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Are they crazy? My personality isn’t suited for leadership. I’m not here to hold hands and love everybody. I’m the man who wants to be left the fuck alone.
What a fucking mood
“There’s no unclustering this fuck.”
“You host a show with Jake Connelly, the most beautiful man in the world. Trust me, you’re going to get the views.” “Nope, nope, nope,” he groans. “You know how I feel when you talk about Connelly’s stupid looks. It triggers my crippling inferiority.” I snort out a laugh. “What is it with you and your mother thinking that guy is handsome? He’s average, at best.” “Oh, he’s definitely not average.” “Agree to disagree.”
That dude’s got the personality of a cactus.”
HELP. WHAT
I don’t love change, personally. I prefer stability. Once I feel comfortable with something—a place, a person, a routine—I want it to last forever. I hate that it never does.
“Tell me something, Gigi.” He slants his head. “Are you an organ harvester? Because you’ve stolen my heart.” Dead silence crashes over the room. Then I keel over with laughter.
“If I was Colson.” “Yes.” “And you were my girl.” “Yes.” Ryder leans in, his warm breath on my ear, sending a tiny shiver through my body. “We would have been behind this curtain five minutes after we got here.” “Doing what?” I regret the question the moment I voice it. “Getting you primed.” My throat closes up with arousal. I struggle to swallow. “Primed,” I echo weakly. “Primed for what?” “For me.”
“I’d use my fingers probably. Yeah. I’d press my fingers inside you. Get you close. But I wouldn’t let you come. Just close enough that your entire body hurts, and then I’d force you to go back out there. Watch you squirm while you talk to all those irrelevant people, until finally you’re begging me to leave so I can take you home and make you come.”
“So then you’re playing the field now?” “I mean, I wouldn’t phrase it that way, but sure.” Dean’s features crease with resignation. “Damn it. I really didn’t want it to come to this.”
“Here,” he says. I almost spit out my coffee when he places a box of condoms on the table. No, not just a box. A very large value pack containing a staggering fifty condoms.
The bag tumbles to the shiny floor, its contents spilling out on the way down. A giant box of condoms lands at my feet. Beckett and I stare at it, then exchange an amused look. Gigi’s cheeks turn a shade of red that doesn’t exist in nature. She quickly kneels to collect the fallen items, shoving everything back in her purse. “You didn’t see that,” she orders. I raise a brow. “Value pack, huh? Big plans this weekend?” “They’re not mine,” she says through gritted teeth. “You’re a bad liar, Gisele.” “Okay, fine, they’re mine. But I acquired them against my will.” “Out of curiosity, how many
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“I mean, a box of fifty, huh? Let’s be ambitious and say we go three or four rounds a night. That’s three or four condoms. Although I guess if it’s a group thing…you know, like the three of us here—” “Oh my God. Would you stop?” “—then we’re talking two condoms at once, three or four rounds. That means you could hypothetically go through six to eight condoms per night. Damn. We’re knocking that whole box out in less than a week.”
I’m six-five.
GODDAMN BITCH. I'LL CLIMB THAT MAN LIKE A DAMN TREE.
She skates over to me, removing her helmet to wipe sweat off her forehead. It’s inexplicably hot seeing her do that. And the sight of her braid hanging over one shoulder triggers a strange primal urge to tug on it and pull her toward me so I can slide my tongue through her frowning lips.
simp
Hearing her heavy breathing makes me think about how she’d sound while I’m fucking her.
keep it in ya pants, Ryder
“You fed me the lines. How excited can I really be about them when they’re not my own?” “Fine. Then give me your own.” He looks at me. Hot gaze raking over my body before his dark-blue eyes return to my face. “I like that top.” I don’t expect the compliment, so I’m genuinely startled. “Oh,” I squeak. “Thanks.”
“So,” Shane pipes up, and I realize I’ve completely forgotten his presence. “This is…” His head moves between us. “Fascinating.” “What is?” I’m puzzled. Shane nods toward Ryder. “I’ve never heard him speak so many words at one time. And then to punctuate it with a compliment? Did you drug him?” “Fuck off,” Ryder grumbles.
“Use me for sex,” he clarifies.
“All I’m saying is, just because I need…” “To get fucked,” he supplies.
“You think I’m throwing you a pity fuck?” “You’re not?” “No.” There’s a pause. “I need what I need too.” Another pause. “And I want it from you.”
“I came to kiss you.” My mouth falls open. I stare at him for a moment. “You…drove all the way here to kiss me.” “Yes.” “I…You…” I’m at a genuine loss for words. Ryder shrugs. “You won’t fuck someone you haven’t kissed. Isn’t that what you said?” “I…” I honestly can’t think straight enough to speak. “So.” Those mesmerizing blue eyes focus on my face “Are you going to let me kiss you, Gigi?”
“Yes or no,” he says softly. I lick my bottom lip and meet his eyes. Then I say, “Yes.”
I’m only half paying attention to it, but it goes something like, It’s alright, it’s okay, a stick’s coming your way, hey-hey.
“Hey, champ,” Dad calls over the railing of the stone deck. “Despite what the song says, it doesn’t look like a stick is coming their way, hey-hey.” “Don’t lie to the dogs, Wyatt,” Mom pipes up.
“Was that a joke? Oh my God. You made a joke.” “Shut up.”
“You love it,” he taunts. “You love it too,” I taunt back. “Yes, I do,” he growls before our mouths collide.
“That’s sweet of you to say.” “Aw, you used the word sweet in a sentence.” I start stroking him, bringing a flash of heat to his eyes. “I think maybe you need to put that smart mouth to better use,” he suggests. “Really. Because I like using it to make fun of you.”
“You know, this might be the most talkative you’ve ever been.” “Yeah. This part’s easy,” he says with a shrug. “What part?” “Telling you how good I want to make you feel. Telling you how good you make me feel. That’s the kind of talking I’m decent at.” “Then I guess we have to do this a lot more often,” I say softly. “If I want to keep you talking.”
“Use me,” I order.
“There are so many reasons this is bad idea,” he tells me. “I know.”
Jensen turns around. “What? What else do you want? Do you want me to do a little dance for you?” “I, personally, would love that,” Tristan Yoo says.
RYDER: I can’t stop thinking about you.
Shane’s voice addresses the closed door. “Better come now, Gisele. They’re starting to talk.”
“All right, I accept. I do love dessert.” I offer an overly lascivious grin. “Seems like you do too.” “I mean, when the dessert is your pussy, I’ll eat it any day of the month.”
“So what’s next? Should we go back to being people who don’t do naked things together?” “I just went down on you, Gisele.”
“My dick belongs to you.”
“You should hook up.” Gigi coughs into her hand. “Yeah, not going to happen,” she replies, and I smirk at her when Beck’s not looking. “Seriously, why not?” he insists. “Now that you’ve decided not to ride the Dunne train—” “Don’t refer to yourself as that,” she orders. “—this guy’s the next best thing. Plus you’d have good-looking children.” Beckett pauses in thought. “Colson would shit a brick, though, so… Probably a good call not to drink from that well.”
“Man, you really hate talking.” “Thank you for noticing.” “Sweetie. That wasn’t a compliment. You know who else doesn’t talk? Serial killers.” “I disagree… Seems like a lot of those crazy fuckers love to hear themselves talk.”
“Is that such a bad thing, knowing where we stand? I mean, I know we only had sex once—” “Does it count as once when the first night involved about a hundred rounds?” I ask, genuinely curious. “You’re right. It’s like a dog years thing. One night was the equivalent of two years of dating.”
“Look at it. Have you ever seen anything prettier?” I glance over to find his blue eyes, vivid in their own right, fixated on my face. “What?” I say self-consciously. He clears his throat. “Nothing. You’re right. It’s nice here.”
“Aw look, you have a new friend,” I say in delight. Ryder cranks his neck to squint at the blue butterfly that just landed on his shoulder. “Poor guy,” I tsk. “He doesn’t know you well enough yet to figure out you’re an asshole.”
“A deep slate gray. Stormy, like your eyes.”
“PS Jealous Gigi is hot.”
Then he says, “I’m not usually such a dick.” “Oh.” I pause. “I usually am.”
“So I was looking up butterfly mating habits the other day and I discovered—” “I’m sorry, no,” Gigi interrupts. “You can’t just gloss over that. You were looking up butterfly mating habits?”
Maybe it’s not true. Maybe I can be a boyfriend. I mean, why not?
“Oh my God. You’re taking me to the opera?” Ryder shrugs. “You said it’s the only date you’re interested in going on.” “I was lying.” “Yeah, I know.” His eyes gleam. “And now you’re being punished for it.” “You are such an asshole,” I say, but I’m laughing.
“What? I’m not the one who’s dripping all over the seat.” “I am not,” I say weakly. “I’m wearing underwear.” “Yeah, speaking of those. They’re a problem. Take them off.”
“I’ve never met anyone I felt comfortable sharing all that with.” I peer into his bottomless blue eyes, always floored by how vivid they are. “I don’t feel like you judge me. About anything. Ever.” “I don’t.” “Do you feel like I judge you?” “Never,” he says simply.
