The Right Move (Windy City, #2)

by Liz Tomforde

“What’s up? Tired of Zanders already? You ready to move back in?” “Ha-ha,” my sister says dryly. “Not a chance. I’m obsessed with that guy.”

And now I’m left grieving a version of my life that no longer exists.

Every kind of motivational or self-help book you could imagine lines the shelves and they’re organized by…Are you kidding me? Alphabetical order of the author’s last name. This guy is a monster who probably runs marathons for fun and passes out nutrition bars on Halloween.

I’ve met Ryan twice. Once he was shirtless and the other time, he was in casual clothes at a bar. But right now? In a fitted suit? Jesus Christ, I can’t live here.

I’m not easily distracted, but if I could manifest my perfect distraction, it’d look a lot like her.

Stevie Well, at least that’ll keep you from wanting to sleep with him! When did I say that? I’m a romance reader. I have a thing for assholes.

Tears are burning and for no good reason. I’m just exhausted, and admittedly, really lonely.

“Shay, you are the luckiest man alive. Please tell me you’re hitting that.” My head whips around to my teammate. “Watch your fucking mouth.” “Well, if you don’t try, I will.” “Dom,” Ethan warns, trying to hold back his laughter. “Ryan is about to combust, so I’d tone it back there, buddy.”

“Stop looking at her,” I warn. “Go hit the showers or get to the airport or just about anything other than look at her. She’s not available.” “So, you are hitting that.” Dom nods in approval. “No, I’m not hitting that. And neither are any of you. Stop looking at her or she’ll be the last thing you ever fucking see.” “Ooooh. Protective Shay is here, and his sister is nowhere to be found. Someone write this date down. History is being made, people. Ryan Shay gives a fuck about someone other than Stevie and something other than basketball.”

“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg or something?” “Now that you say it.” She cocks her head to the side, eyes roaming my length. “I wouldn’t mind knowing what you look like on your knees, Shay.”

What she’s going through resonates with me, and if Indy having some flowers in my apartment will make her happy, well then, I guess I’m growing a green fucking thumb.

“For someone who likes to have control, it does sound awfully nice when you beg.”

Do you know how to flare your nostrils in anger?” My breakfast almost comes back up. “What?” “If you see me across the room, talking to another man, I need you to stare intently then flare your nostrils. Or grind your molars together and tic your jaw.” “Blue—” “Do you know how to growl?” “What?” “Yeah, I don’t really know what that’s supposed to sound like, but every one of my book boyfriends is big into growling. Oh! And can you darken your eyes?” “Darken my eyes?” “Yeah. When you pretend to get angry or act really turned on, can you darken your eyes?” “No, I can’t fucking darken my eyes. What the hell are you reading?”

“Daily update for you, Vee.” “No thank you.” “Your brother is hot as hell, and I'd happily let him bend me over this bar top.” I pull my drink to my lips, keeping my attention on him.

“This one is on me,” he says to Stevie, with a grin that can only be described as “panty-melting.” A tattooed hand slides around Stevie’s waist from behind. “Absolutely not.” Zanders’ venomous glare is focused on the soon-to-be dead bartender. “Abso-fucking-lutely not.” The bartender’s face pales. “Sorry, man.” He holds up his hands in surrender before taking off to serve another patron. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Zanders keeps his attention on his back before leaning down and dotting kisses down Stevie’s neck. “I can’t take you anywhere,” he murmurs against her skin.

“No. That’s not how this is going to go. When you’re with me, I want you exactly as you are. That includes letting people know just how fucking smart you are. You’re not going to cater to anyone’s toxic masculinity bullshit. You’re not going to be quiet and appeasing when you’re with me. If Ron, or anyone else for that matter, has an issue with you being smarter than him, then we’re going to have a far bigger problem than him thinking I’m not a good leader.” “Ryan, it’s fine. I’ve done it for years.” “Yeah, that’s another thing. How fucking small was Alex’s dick that he let you do this? Or should I say, asked you to do this. That shit is manipulative and controlling because, let me guess, he didn’t like that you were smarter than him, possibly more successful. Did he ask you to tone it down in front of his friends? Did he want you to stay quiet and look pretty so his colleagues wouldn’t think less of him?” What the hell? There’s a strong prick in my eyes, a quick burn of my nose because Ryan is right. He’s never met him, and yet, he knows everything I tried to ignore.

“It’s a nice ass.” I shrug unapologetically. His chest rumbles, his voice lowering. “Trying to distract me tonight? With those heels and those lips? Because you look fucking stunning.”

“Daily update—I hope your brother wears his jersey when he fucks me.” I pop my shoulders. “Or I could wear it.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a little possessive, Shay?” His chest rumbles against my back in a silent laugh. “Never. But then again, no one else has ever made me feel quite as greedy as you do.”

The man who loves nothing more than to spoil her wraps her up from behind, endlessly proud that he pulled off this surprise and gets to show off his girl in the process.

“Do we need to add this to our deal? Put it on the fridge? Because as far as I’m concerned no one else gets to touch you.” “Does that mean you’ll touch me?” Jesus. No filter tonight apparently.

Ryan doesn’t make me feel like a burden. He doesn’t make me feel like I’m too much. I’ve offered him absolutely nothing other than exactly who I am, and he’s embraced every part of me, good and bad.

Tears leak from my closed eyes, partly because I’m sick and partly because I’ve never had someone take care of me like this, body and soul. Today’s realizations are overwhelming me, and in true Indy fashion, crying is my favorite outlet. “No one has ever taken care of me,” I squeak past the lump in my throat. “Thank you, Ryan.”

“I’m not allowed to mess up. I’m not allowed to step out of line. I’m not allowed to get injured and take a month off. I’m not allowed to turn it all back on. The amount of pressure on me,”—he sucks in a sharp, shaky breath—“feels suffocating. I feel suffocated.”

It’s unexpectedly liberating. For years, I’ve been emotionally numb and, in a way, refusing to feel anything— joy, sadness, love, or in this case, fear— felt like a death sentence. I don’t want to be numb anymore.

Every emotion good or bad and for that reason alone she’s a breath of fresh air in my life. She’s living and I both admire her for it and am envious beyond belief.

Ocean eyes drop to my mouth. “But I spend a lot of your money.” “Someone needs to.” “And I’m messy. You don’t like messy.” “I like your mess.” “And I’m needy. I have no idea how to be alone.” “Good. I don’t want you to be alone. I want you to be with me.” His eyes fall to my throat, watching it work its way through a swallow. “Come home with me, Blue.” Apparently, half a second is too long to hesitate because Ryan continues. “And let me make this perfectly clear, even if you say no, I will throw you over my shoulder and take you with me. But I’m working with a knee injury here and would rather you come on your own free will.”

He’s smiling. Smiling while going down on me. I’ve never felt something so all-consuming as Ryan Shay’s tongue on my body.

“Goddamn,” he exhales in admiration. “You should see the picture you painted in my head. You’re going to look so pretty on your knees for me.” He pulls his fingers from my mouth. “But first, lie down and come on my tongue like the obedient girl I know you are.”

“Tell me what you want, Ind.” I run a palm over him, through his pants. “Use your words, Blue.” “I want it.” “Where?” “In my mouth.” “Mmm,” he hums a satisfied noise, pushing my hair out of the way. “Then take it out and show me what you can do.”

“There you go,” he praises. “That’s my girl.” I preen at the phrase. Melt under it. I love this kind of control. He’s a strong man, but weak for me.

“Ryan, it’s too much.” “You can take it,” I reassure, but at the same time, I halt my movements, letting her adjust. When she’s ready, she braces the headboard behind me, lowering herself the final inches, until she’s fully seated and stretched around me. “There you go. Such a good girl for me, Ind.”

“That you were meant for me. Do you feel how perfectly we fit together?”

“I didn’t know Ryan knew sign language,” Caroline says next to me. “He doesn’t. He didn’t, I mean. I didn’t know he was learning.” My stare is locked on him. “I offered to teach him, but we hadn’t gotten around to starting yet.” I take a sharp inhale, attempting to compose myself. “My dad is deaf.” “Oh, Indy.” She places her hand on top of mine, the both of us watching Ryan and Sarah. “That man loves you. That right there is quiet love.”

I’ve gone twenty-seven years without being loved the way Ryan Shay loves me. And now I have the privilege to be loved so selflessly, so attentively.

I will put her first. I will give her the life she’s always dreamed of. I will make sure she knows how special she is, that she doesn’t need to put on the show for everyone else. I like her chaotic and emotional. I like her messy.

You brought me back to life, Ind, and I will love you as long as you’ll let me.”

“Because there’s nothing in this world I’d love more than hearing you beg, and trust me, baby, I won’t stop until I hear it.”

“Dear God,” I exhale, watching him taste me. “Who are you praying to?” “I’m not sure.” He moans at the taste of me. “Well, just be sure to use my real name when I make you scream.”

“Ryan, will you please make me come?” He drives into me over and over again, and though he doesn’t say a word, when he circles my clit with the pad of his finger, I know that’s his silent permission. “That’s my girl,” he praises. “There you go.”

“Why do you like reading fiction so much?” he asks without a hint of judgment. “How else would you get to live a thousand lives in the span of only one?

“But that was back in December. Even then?” He knew even then? “Even then.”

Slowly, I pull out and watch as my cum drips out and down her body. With a single finger, I collect it, pushing it back in, and loving the way it looks to have me inside of her. I’m fairly certain I growl or some shit. I don’t know. Some possessive caveman noise comes out of my throat at the sight in front of me.