Bound (23 page)

“Well, I can’t afford anything fancy. M
y boss is a cheap bastard and it costs a lot to live in the city.”

He ignored my
phony jab. “Yeah, but you could just wait a while.”

“It’s time, Ryke. I’m a grown woman and I don’t want to live with my mom anymore.”

“Is that it? You just don’t want to live with her? Or do you want to be alone?”

I wrinkled my brows as I considered. “I don’t know. Isn’t it the same thing?”

“Not really. Why don’t you move in here?”

I laughed so hard I had to hold the phone away to catch my breath. “In your building? I’d have to live in a broom closet to afford that. Literally, I’d live in a closet and sleep standing up.”

“No, my apartment. Move in with me.”

My mouth dropped open and I sat up in bed. “What? No, you don’t have to do that.”

“I never said I have to. Why not? I have plenty of room. You’re back and forth from here and there every day. You’d like it here.”

“Yeah, but . . .”

“But what?”

“I just . . . you wouldn’t have any privacy. What if you wanted to bring a woman home or something?”

“Don’t play that bullshit game with me, Kate. You know that’s not happening.”

“No, I don’t.”

“It’s not happening. The only woman I wish was beside me in bed right now is you.”

I swallowed so hard he probably heard it. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m laying here in my boxers getting hard just listening to your voice.”

His low tone
sent a jolt of confidence and arousal through me.

“I wish I could see you,
” I said.

“Me too. What are you wearing?”

His question conjured an image of a phone sex operator, who shook her nonexistent head at me disdainfully. “Uh, to be honest, I’m wearing gray sweats and a volleyball t-shirt from high school. Sorry.”

A deep, single note of laugher sounded. “Don’t be. Just take that stuff off.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Off?”

“Yeah. Take it off. I’ll wait.”

Holy shit, he’d just gotten me hot in less than five seconds – with no hands. I responded to his commanding tone, tossing my phone on the bed and pulling my t-shirt over my head. Picking up the phone, I laid down on the bed and slid my sweats down past my hips, talking as I worked them off.

“Okay,” I said.

“So, now what are you wearing?”

I wanted to lie. Tell him I had on something black and lacy, or at least something that matched. But it was against my nature. “I have on a pink bra and panties with cherries on them.”

“Cherries?”

“Yeah.”
I wanted to explain my unsexiness. I needed to do laundry, and no one but me saw my undergarments anyway. But he didn’t give me a chance.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his tone warm and – God
help me – sexy. He could read from a cookbook right now and turn me on.

“Yes.”

“Send me a picture.”

I gasped into the phone. “A picture? Of . . .?”

“The panties. Show me your cherries.”

My heart pounded furiously. Could I be that bold? I squirmed at just the thought.

“Come on, Kate. Live a little.” There was a rustling sound on the phone and Ryke spoke again after a few seconds. “There, I went first.”

“You mean . . . you’re wearing
cherry panties too and you sent me a pic?” I teased, a tingle of nervousness prickling my skin.

There was that low laugh again. “Only one way to find out.”

Damn right. I pulled the phone away from my ear and clicked on the photo he’d sent. My lips parted when I saw it. The fabric of his dark boxers was being strained by his very large erection.

I put the phone back to my ear, searching for something to say. “Ah . . . That’s . . .”

“Your turn.” The desire in his tone gave me the courage I needed. I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut, snapping a photo between my legs quickly. Before I could change my mind, I sent it.

“Okay,” I said softly. There was a pause and a deep rumble that sounded like satisfaction.

“That’s fucking hot,” he said. “Your cherries are sexy.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” I cautioned.

“I’m not. I love how sweet and unpretentious you are. You should be glad you’re not here right now, Kate, because if you were . . .” He sighed, sounding frustrated.

“What? If I was, what?”

“I don’t think I could keep my hands off you. I’d slide down your sweet cherry panties and finally get a taste of you.”

I closed my eyes, only able to think about the sound of his voice. This was safe, since we couldn’t have actual sex over the phone. I could let go.

“God, Ryke, I want you to,” I said.

“I know you do. And I’d need a lot more than just a taste. I want to feel you come in my mouth. I’ve fantasized about getting you off so many times, baby. Pretty much every night.
”

His breath was coming quicker, and I knew he was as turned on as I was. “Are you . . . touching yourself?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve had my hand wrapped around my cock since I saw that picture.”

I didn’t think, I just spoke. “I wish it was my mouth.”

“Oh, fuck.” His voice strained and I waited a few seconds. There was a note of disappointment in his deep exhale. “Damn.”

“Did you just . . .?”

“Hell yeah, I did. Jesus, woman. Those words, out of your sweet little mouth? I couldn’t help it.”

“I’m not sweet all the time,” I said. It wasn’t true, but I wanted it to be.
For the first time, I felt sexy, and it was a heady sensation.

“Is that true?” Ryke asked. “Are you really a dirty girl?”

God, how I wanted to say yes. Closet vixen here, Ryke. But once again my inability to lie ruined my fun.

“No,” I said, sighing. “I mean, this conversation is the dirtiest I’ve ever been.”

He blew out a breath. “That’s good.”

“Why?”

“Because I like being the only one you’ve been dirty with. Let’s keep it that way. Now, I’m gonna need you to slide your hand into those sexy panties you’ve got on.”

I had to hold in a sound of amusement. “Ryke, I can’t. I mean, if you want me to . . . see, I can’t even say it, let alone do it.”

“But—”

“This was fun,” I said, interrupting him. “I liked it a lot. But I have to work my way up to that.”

“Okay, next time, then.”

“And Ryke? Please don’t show that picture to anyone.”

He made a low sound of amusement. “Baby, I’d never show this to anyone. It’s only for me.”

“Okay. So I’m going to sleep then. See you in the morning?”

“Do you want to move in tomorrow?” He said it like the decision had been made and only the details had to be worked out, making me smile.

“Um . . .”

“Please, Kate. I want you here. I’ll call some movers and you won’t have to do anything.”

I knew I shouldn’t move in with him. I couldn’t be that close to him and resist sex forever. And I couldn’t
go there. If I did, I’d regret it. My body wanted to have sex, but my heart wasn’t ready.

I didn’t know if my defenses were down or my state of arousal was withholding oxygen from my brain, but for some reason, I didn’t even protest.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll move in.”

Chapter 11

When I walked into the apartment, Ryke was sitting at the kitchen table as usual, a dark coffee mug in front of him and my Ryan Gosling one waiting for me on the other side of the table. But today, between the mugs, there was a box.

“Happy birthday,” he said, closing the case of his ta
blet. I was 23 today. How did he know? I was sure we’d never discussed it. I’d been so worried the whole way over here that things would be awkward after last night that I hadn’t even thought about my birthday.

“Thanks,” I said,
giving him a grin that surely looked goofy. I’d never gotten a birthday present from a man. I had to remind myself this wasn’t necessarily from Ryke, the man. It was likely from Ryke, my boss. Mimi had told me Ryke gave her season tickets for his team and a Christmas bonus every year.

I
slid out of my jacket and approached the box. It was nearly a foot wide, but not very deep, and my curiosity was piqued. It was wrapped in thick, matte silver paper with a shiny silver ribbon tied in an elaborate bow.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I said, my fingers brushing the expensive paper.

“I wanted to. Open it.” He fidgeted impatiently, and I wondered if he needed to go, so I pulled the ribbon off and tore into the paper. My heart pounded with excitement as I pulled the lid away from the cream-colored box and burrowed through the tissue paper.

A quilted sandy brown leather wallet was nestled inside, and my fingers flew up to my mouth as I looked at it. I knew the brand, and had never expected to own something so lavish.

“Ryke,” I said softly. “This is beautiful, but—”

“But what?” His face fell. “Is it the wrong color?”

“No, it’s just . . . These are so expensive.”

His brows furrowed as he looked at me across the table. “This is what I wanted to get you, though.”

The fresh leathery smell was a reminder that he was everything I wasn’t. Successful, grounded and secure. And I was about to let him support me by moving in here when we weren’t even together. It was desperate and a little pathetic. I folded the tissue back over the wallet and put the lid back on the box. A glance toward the kitchen told me Mimi had stolen away somewhere to give us privacy.

“You don’t like it,” he said, sighing.

I met his eyes and saw an ache there that tore at me. “It’s not that. It’s beautiful. ”

“Then what?”

“I just don’t know why you’d buy me something so nice when you already pay me so well,” I said. “To me, a birthday gift is a book or a shirt, not . . .”

“Jesus, Kate,” he muttered
, pacing away from me. “I spent more than an hour in a goddamn department store shopping for that because I wanted to find something perfect for you. I saw that your wallet was broken when I carried it that night and I thought you’d be . . . I don’t know,” he threw his hands in the air, “
impressed
that I remembered! Why do I always have to be the rich guy trying to seduce the broke girl?”

I lowered my eyes to the floor, unable to answer. His questions made me realize what I’d been doing. I wanted to push him away. It was easy to flirt with him, but this felt so intimate. He’d gone to a store specifically to buy me a birthday present.
I should’ve been thrilled, but Jason Ryker scared the hell out of me. What if I could get past my fear of sex for him? I’d fall completely in love, without a doubt. But would he want something long term with me and my faulty uterus?

“I don’t want to be one of your groupies,” I said in a small voice. I figured that would do i
t; he’d be so pissed he’d storm out.

Go
osebumps broke out on my arms when he got up from his chair and walked over to mine, leaning against the kitchen table. I couldn’t look up because I knew I’d see fury or disappointment.

“How have I treated you like a groupie?”

“Ryke . . .” I met his eyes, and the storm of emotions there made me want to throw myself into his arms. “I’ve got issues. And you . . . you’re hot and successful and women throw themselves at you.”

“So what? That doesn’t mean I want any of them. It goes with the job, Kate. They don’t give a shit about me, it’s just an image. Answer my question. How have I treated you like a groupie?”

“Have you kissed anyone else since you first kissed me?” I felt weak for asking, but I needed to know. I wasn’t the jealous type, but I was dying to know if I was special to him.

“No.”

I could actually feel the relief washing over me. “Why not?”

“Haven’t wanted to. Answer me.”

“You’re supposed to be mad at me!” He had me off-balance, and I didn’t know how to answer his question.

“I’m not. I see what you’re doing.”

I looked away, frustrated. He probably did see. He was always the smooth one, with all the answers and unlimited confidence. I was always the one flailing.

“I’m taking you out to dinner tonight.” His tone was firm, and I couldn’t bring myself to argue. I tried to look back at the floor, but his thumb tipped my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Take my credit card, put it in the wallet I got you, and go buy a dress so expensive it offends you. I’ll pick you up here at seven.”

I nodded. Gone was the self-sufficient scrapper. His insistence had me feeling flushed all over; eager to please him.

“And after I take you out, you’re spending the night with me.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers. “Now I’m going to practice, so I’ll see you tonight?”