Текст книги "Chasing Mr. Wrong"

Автор книги: Joya Ryan

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

Sparks flew across her skin, and she didn’t even feel her orgasm creep up, it simply hit like a bolt of energy, snapped across her body like lightning hitting a dry tree, splintering it down the middle. An internal storm surged, raining heat and power through her veins.

She moaned and writhed, but Ryder just kept eating at her like the dessert he’d described.

“I’m with you, sweetness,” he said. “I’m going to come…but I don’t want to. Not yet…” He kissed her once more, then pulled away, leaving her gasping for breath and trembling from aftershocks.

She barely registered him grabbing a condom from his discarded pants and putting it on. He moved her to the middle of the bed and was between her still-shaking thighs in record time.

“Climbing high,” he said, repeating his earlier words. She really made him feel like that? He made her feel crazed.

He sank inside of her with one long thrust. She spread her legs wider, trying to give him better access, but he gripped her knees and pulled them around his middle. “Cling to me. I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

She dug her heels into the backs of his thighs as he fucked her hard. Deep. Over and over, banging his hips against hers, looking for every last inch he could take. And she gave it to him.

“If I can’t hold on to you, you’ll hold on to me,” he rasped in her ear. He gripped her wrist and brought it to his shoulder. She clung to him. Like he wanted. Like she wanted. But she couldn’t admit that now. Because while Ryder might think she was the breeze blowing wherever she pleased, he was the clap of thunder that boomed down, taking over her whole world and leaving her with nothing but shivers and the vibrating aftershocks of all his power.

And she was starting to fear that he was the kind of storm she wouldn’t be able to escape.

So she would cling to him until it passed. Wrap both arms around his back and sink in her nails. And that’s what she did—gripped tighter than she’d ever gripped anything, while he moved inside her.

She arched her back and let him take her over the edge. A slow burn moved along her entire body, starting at her toes and stretching to her neck, pulling and warming everything in between until all her skin was sensitized and buzzing with his raw lust.

Her release was intense, hot, and unending.

“I feel you,” he said, thrusting deep and staying right there. His body tightened and shook. His cock inside her hardened further and shot with his own pleasure. Every inch of his skin flushed with heat, and she felt him turn on like a furnace as he spent himself.

And she was there, clinging to him, catching every last ounce he’d give her, and praying to God she didn’t have to let him go just yet.

Chapter Twelve

Ryder’s eyes creaked open, and he was greeted with a glaring light. It took several moments to realize he wasn’t in his bed, he was in Whitney’s. And she was gone. The pillow next to him was cold. His hat rested on the pillow, and a single note propped on it read:

Had to work early. Didn’t want to wake you. Have a good day, cowboy.

He grinned…until he caught sight of the clock.

“Shit!” He was late. Davenport would be at the job site today, and Ryder was fucking late meeting with him.

He hustled to get dressed, and on his way out, he fastened his hat on top of his head and looked in the mirror. He almost didn’t recognize himself. He looked brighter. Rested, maybe? He’d slept better last night than he had in years, but it would be a hell of a price to pay for a good night’s sleep if he didn’t get his ass in gear.

Speeding from the lodge to Davenport Hall on Main took only ten minutes, and thankfully he had a button-down on and a Stetson to hide his bedhead. With any luck, Davenport was running a few minutes late himself. But when Ryder pulled up, he saw Davenport’s car already parked out front.

Ryder went in the main entrance, which smelled of fresh paint. At least the walls in the foyer were done.

Davenport was coming down the staircase. “Glad you showed up. I was just getting ready to leave.” His expression was blank except for a touch of tension at the corner of his mouth. Davenport’s reputation for “leaving” was legendary. If he left, he never came back. And neither did his business.

This was bad. Really bad.

Of all the days to be late—which Ryder never, ever was—it had to be today.

He’d gotten caught up. Once again. Worst of all, this time he’d let himself get distracted despite knowing the consequences. He’d known what spending time with Whitney would do to him, and he’d done it anyway, because more than knowing he’d enjoy it, he’d needed it. Needed her.

“The Hall looks great,” Davenport said. “Ready for the grand opening on Saturday?”

“All that’s left if for the paint to dry.”

“Yes.” Davenport looked out the front door. “I know you run a tight ship. Stay within budget and get work done promptly. I’ll admit, I had my doubts.” He glanced at the cabinet, which now had a perfectly fit piece of granite resting atop of it. “I want someone I can count on. Not just for the Hall, but for future contracts. I’m looking to build a business park over at the edge of Diamond County.”

That would be huge. Something like that would bring in jobs for the town and get new business into the community for years to come.

Ryder ran his hand over the rim of his Stetson. “Who do you think could handle the job?”

“I was thinking of Diamond Construction,” Davenport said, never one to miss a hint, but the long exhale that went with it made Ryder pause. “But I must say your absence this morning, tied up with a few things I’ve heard around town, makes me wonder if you’re really the man for the job.”

“This morning was not normal for me.” Ryder didn’t want to go into details. Hell, he couldn’t go into the details. Wasn’t that the point? “But I assure you that if you’re considering my crew, we’ll deliver as always.”

“So you’re not up and taking off?”

Ryder frowned. “Why would I do that? Diamond is my home.”

“Yes, but rumor is, you’ve been slipping. Seen with some out-of-towner and talking of running off with her.”

What the fuck?

When had he been seen with Whitney? Aside from the BBQ, they’d been careful not to let anyone find them doing anything that wouldn’t be seen as anything other than platonic.

Except they hadn’t, had they? That day he’d run into her at the paint shop. He’d thought they were being careful stealing a kiss in the back of the store, but all it would have taken was one passing person to see them.

And now he would pay the price for trying to satisfy his own impulses, his own desires. It was the cost of losing judgment and control.

Whatever he liked about Whitney, whatever he needed or wanted from her, couldn’t last. And it sure as hell was affecting his judgment and his lifestyle.

He’d realized last night that no matter how tightly he clung to Whitney, he couldn’t keep her within the boundaries he needed to function. He’d messed up this morning. And now, that mistake was messing with his job, his company, his future. Because showing up late to a meeting with a major hitter in town was not the best way to renew his confidence in Ryder.

He couldn’t blame Davenport for questioning his work ethic, just like he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for getting caught up and not setting a damn alarm. He had to stop kidding himself and go cold turkey on Whitney. Because having a hit of her only made the addiction grow.

I want what’s bad for me…

“I can assure you, I’m here to stay, as is my crew, and we’d seriously appreciate the opportunity to earn your business again.”

Davenport nodded once. “Good. Then I’ll seriously consider it.” Ryder didn’t miss the threat in his tone. “If all goes well on Saturday, we’ll chat more then.” He turned to leave, and Ryder glanced at the sunshine beaming down outside the doorway. “By the way, Clara mentioned you might save a dance for her at the event.”

“Of course I’ll save a dance for her,” Ryder said.

Davenport smiled, but that tension remained at the edges of his mouth. “I think that’s wonderful. It could be the first step toward what I’ve always imagined as a full partnership between our families.”

A single dance didn’t matter if it helped him maintain this contract and any future business from Davenport, but Jesus, the man was being about as subtle as an earthquake. Ryder couldn’t turn him down outright, but he was playing a very dangerous game. He’d have to do what was necessary to keep this contract, and then figure out the rest as it came.

The first step to holding this all together? He needed to get a grip. For real this time. Because Whitney would never be tied down, and Ryder couldn’t keep chasing her while his own future went up in flames from the fire she left behind.

Chapter Thirteen

“What is this for?” Whitney asked, opening the envelope Penny handed her. It was filled with cash.

“It’s a bonus,” Penny said. “Or an incentive, depending on how you look at it.”

“Incentive?”

“I’m catering the event at the Davenport Hall,” Penny clarified, and Whitney remembered Ryder mentioning the reopening of the facility. “Would you be interested in helping me? There’s so much food to make, but I really need help setting it all up at the event, making sure the tables and trays stay full.”

Whitney glanced at the envelope in her hand. It wasn’t about the money. She’d help Penny for free. Which was why she handed her back the envelope.

“Of course I’ll help.”

Penny smiled. “Thank you so much. But you keep that.” She pushed the envelope back. “I hated to ask you because of the event itself. You’ll still have plenty of time to enjoy it, though.”

“I wasn’t invited,” Whitney said. “So I’m happy to be on food detail.”

Penny frowned. “Ryder didn’t invite you?”

“It’s cool.” She shrugged it off but didn’t feel any lighter. It didn’t fit into their arrangement, going to the reopening together. But still… “What I have with Ryder isn’t a public thing.”

“Do you want it to be?” Penny asked.

That single question stopped her breath short. Did she? Sure, she’d gotten weird feelings seeing him interact with Clara. She also saw how the town respected him, and while he was never fake, he never allowed himself to be real, either. The real kind of man she knew behind closed doors, at least.

“I don’t know if he would really want that,” Whitney said. From day one, Ryder had tried putting her into a box, like he did with everyone else. Did she want him? Yes. In public? Yes. But if that meant she’d have to take him as the closed off guy he presented to everyone else, she wasn’t interested.

“Don’t you think you should leave that up to him?” Penny offered. “I can tell you from personal experience, sometimes you have to stop being afraid of what someone might feel and just ask them to tell you.” She closed Whitney’s hand around the envelope of money. “Besides, I know you’re looking to move on sooner or later. This money will help. Unless you’re thinking of staying longer.” She smiled, making no secret of which option she hoped Whitney would take. “And then the money could definitely help, don’t you think?” The look on Penny’s face turned from happy to mischievous.

“Staying longer?” Whitney asked.

Penny just shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe there’s something you might like sticking around for.”

“Like…” Whitney prompted, even though she could tell Penny had the same idea Whitney was trying to deny.

“Like a tall guy with impeccable manners, who needs a good ass kicking from a hot chick like yourself every now and again so he can lighten up and have fun.”

“Oh that!” Whitney said, and tapped her jaw. “I thought you were talking about me staying for all the awesome food you make.”

“Well, that too, naturally.”

Whitney laughed, then did one thing she hadn’t done in a long time. She reached out for a hug. Penny reached back, wrapped her up, and pulled her in. When Whitney squeezed her eyes shut, a stray tear slipped out, and it caught her off guard.

Penny had treated her well from the beginning. She’d been supportive and took life by the balls. She was kind and vibrant. Ryder was lucky to have her for a sister, because Whitney saw so much of her own sister in her. And it both broke and healed her heart at the same time.

“Thank you,” Whitney said and finally released Penny.

But Penny just cupped her shoulders. “You’re welcome.” She gave a little squeeze, then said, “Now, what are you going to do about the big pain in the ass Diamond boy?”

Whitney smiled. “Well, last I saw him, I left him sleeping in my bed the other day. I haven’t heard from him since. I didn’t think anything of it.” Even though she had. “I know he needs his space.” Even though she’d wished he would call her. Or come by the BBQ. Or…anything.

“Please.” Penny rolled her eyes. “Ryder is excited about you. It’s obvious. Now the question is, what are you excited about?”

The truth hit Whitney hard. “Him,” she said.

She was excited about the idea of staying in Diamond. Of getting to spend her nights with a specific Diamond, and maybe even her days with the same one. They were family. And that made Whitney feel like she just might belong here. She’d spent the year after Kacey’s death on the run, and this was the first place that felt like home.

But Ryder’s admission from the other night still plagued her thoughts.

“Ryder told me about his past, and the woman he eloped with.”

Penny nodded and looked around, as though gauging who was within earshot. This had to be a tightly kept secret. “Shh,” Penny said.

Whitney lowered her voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. I’m surprised he told you. No one knows except our closest friends. He was heartbroken. That woman crushed a part of him.”

Wow. Ryder hadn’t gone into those kinds of details, like how he’d felt crushed. He had told her more about how he regretted dragging his family into the mess.

“She really hurt him?”

“Yeah. He’d left everything and everyone and followed her to the city. He plays it off that he was young, which he was. But he was lost to her. Once the knot was tied, the ink wasn’t dry on the license before she left him and wanted a settlement. It broke something in him. Ever since, he hasn’t really let go of his control.” Penny looked at Whitney and smiled. “But since he met you, I’ve seen some of that spark come back in him.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing, if he’s worried about it.”

“He doesn’t know how to deal with that kind of passion. For a while, I didn’t, either. But eventually I let it take me down, and it’s a hell of a ride.” Penny smiled, like she was recalling a happy memory. “Ryder just keeps things at arm’s length.”

Like coffee dates and manners. It was his shield.

“I’m not after anything of his, or your family’s,” Whitney said.

“Oh, I know that!” Penny assured her quickly. “If I thought you were, I wouldn’t be pushing you to continue making my brother’s life difficult.”

Difficult. Yep, that was what she was doing. He’d been honest, and Whitney now knew what he was fighting. She didn’t want to make it harder for him. She just wanted him. Ryder had tried to date her, to keep his boundaries in place, to even be her friend, and now it was Whitney’s turn to step up and compromise.

“I’m officially taking sex off the table,” she said, and Penny’s brows rose.

“Ah…I think you lost me.”

“I mean, it’s not just about sex anymore. I want…” She swallowed back the lump in her throat. “More.”

“Oh, honey! We can definitely work with more! I’m all about getting that!”

Penny did a little dance, and Whitney felt truly happy. She had a friend, maybe even a couple of friends. With Ryder, with Penny, with their friends, she felt like she had a small part of her sister back. Like she just might get a chance to hang onto the one man she…

“Oh, fuckin’ A!” Whitney whispered and ran a hand along her forehead, where an instant phantom headache hit.

“What? Are you okay?” Penny asked.

She looked at her and shook her head. “I don’t know. I think it’s…side effects or something. Oh God…oh God…” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Side effects? Are you on medication? Should I call Lily?”

Whitney shook her head. “I love him,” she muttered. “Somehow I fell in love with a guy who’s killing me with good manners. It’s not my fault, though. He tempted me with naughtiness until I gave in.”

“That sounds like Ryder.”

Yes, it did. Now it was her turn to retaliate.

Ryder was doing touch ups to the paint with a single light on. It was well past dark, and he was the only one at the Hall. He was trying to convince himself he was doing what he should be doing. Seeing to the small details. Proving to the client that he was on top of everything. He was the first one to the site and the last one to leave. Except for that one morning…

He continued the small brush strokes along the baseboard, making sure all the paint was even and no spatter was left behind. The event was in two days. This was the final stretch, and he would be ready. Ready to discuss the future with Davenport. Ready to face Whitney and really let her go.

His chest punched at the last part.

And like God himself had read his mind, Whitney appeared, standing in the doorway of the foyer, holding a small paper bag.

“Hi,” she said softly. There was a stark vulnerability in her eyes. He set the brush in the paint tin and rose from his hunkered down position.

She stepped toward him. Those toned leg muscles flexed beneath olive skin, and his mouth dried out with the need to drink down her sweet taste. Her shirt was tied at the side. He’d learned that she liked her wordy tees. The one she was wearing tonight read:

Welcome to the big apple. Bite me.

He grinned. He loved her sass. In was in every move, every breath, and every word.

Wild.

It was just her.

“I brought you dinner,” she said and held up the brown bag.

He took it. “Thank you.”

He opened it and struggled not to laugh when he saw what was inside: an assortment of candy. He raised a brow and looked at her. “I’ve never had candy for dinner.”

“Well, I’ve never asked a man on a date, so I figured candy was a starting point.”

Ryder’s blood stopped pumping, and his chest stilled like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

Had he heard her right? Surely not. This was their game. The “I’ve Never” part of it was never meant to be serious. She’d said so herself from the beginning.

She took another step toward him, and her delicate throat worked on a hard swallow. She glanced down, her fingers fumbling in front of her. My God, the woman was…nervous.

The smart-mouthed, rise-to-the-challenge, no-dates-allowed woman was actually nervous.

“I was wondering if, ah, maybe you wanted to get coffee sometime?” she asked.

Ryder’s mouth slackened, and he stared at the small female before him. She was larger than life, her presence so much bigger than her actual frame, yet right now, she looked so innocent. Lost even. And she was coming to him to find herself?

“Coffee?” he asked.

She nodded. “I promise to be on my best behavior.” When she tossed him a little grin, his ribs almost split open from the racing rhythm of his heart beating like crazy.

“I kind of like it when you’re on your worst behavior though,” he rasped, then closed the distance between them. That fog was settling in his brain again. The one he should be fighting. The one he knew better than to be blind to. But she was changing the rules.

“I was thinking of maybe staying around Diamond for a while. And having you for a friend or…maybe more…could be nice.”

His brows sliced down. “Nice?”

That single word cut him faster and sharper than a blade. Whitney didn’t do “nice.” She didn’t do “more.” She didn’t do dates. And she knew neither of them did “public.”

He’d been on the other end of this conversation a few weeks ago. Just the idea of a date and friendship and nice had pissed Whitney off. Now she wanted that from him. Why now? How had the tables turned so drastically?

“Why?” he asked. “Why this change of heart?” His body went cold. He didn’t know what she was ultimately looking to gain by coming here, but he knew it would destroy him if she asked for something he had to deny. “Come out and say what it is you’re really after.”

She frowned at him. “I’m after you,” she admitted, and part of him shut down at the admission. She was the freest, wildest woman he’d ever met, and suddenly she was sticking around and wanted him.

He didn’t buy it. Couldn’t. Because it went against everything she was. So was her aim to set him up? String him along?

He dropped the candy bag and closed the last inches between them. He threaded a hand in her hair, maneuvered her against the wall, and pressed hard into her body.

“Where’s the mouthy woman I’ve come to know? Where is she?”

“I’m right here,” she said. Her thighs spread enough so Ryder could wedge himself farther between them. The woman had him instantly hard. All the damn time. Now she was pulling a one-eighty, and he was so lost. Had no idea what to think or how to react other than what he knew, which was to resist the impulse to throw caution to the wind and simply be with the woman his heart desired.

He’d been through this once before, and it had been too good to be true then.

He pulled her to him, hating that he couldn’t let her go without at least one more touch. His mouth against hers, he said, “You come in to my town, make me lose my mind since day one… Now you’re changing everything you said you wanted because you think there’s more to gain?”

She nodded. “I didn’t ask to feel this, but I can’t deny it if I do. I’ve never told a man I love him before. This is new for me.”

Ryder leaned away and looked her dead on. That was the heaviest “I’ve Never” he’d heard, and his mind spun out trying to piece her motives together. Trying to wrap his brain around what to do with her declaration of love. Trying to figure out what this tug in his stomach meant.

He needed space. Needed to gain control. Because Whitney once again was throwing him for a loop.

He backed away, his hands falling from her, and he put several feet between them.

“Ryder,” she whispered his name, and he frowned at the floor.

“Shit,” he said. The paint he’d just touched up on the trim was now smudged against the wall where he’d held Whitney.

She looked down, seeing the paint marks on the back of her sandals and the smudges on the wall.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to mess that up.”

Ryder just shook his head. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

It was paint, it could be fixed, but it was also more than that. It was his work and his mind suffering because he wasn’t fucking thinking. With her, he just acted. Just gave in to his instinct. And that had been to hold her. Challenge her.

He had to stay away from her. Despite his efforts to have it all—both Whitney and his control—it wasn’t working. He was losing. His will, his mind, everything he valued and worked hard to keep locked up was threatening to burst free and be consumed by chaos.

She just looked at him, those big chocolate eyes wide, waiting for him to say something.

Whitney tried to inhale, but her lungs somehow didn’t register that concept. She could only take short, quick breaths, and it was hurting her chest. Or maybe it was the silence passing between her and Ryder.

The look in his eyes was one she’d never seen. Confusion? Anger? Loss? She didn’t know what was rolling through his head. But she had a feeling she was on the brink of something bad. She’d just admitted she loved him, and he looked like she’d kicked him in the face.

“Knock, knock!” Clara’s voice rang out, and her heels clacked against the marble floors. “Oh, hello,” she said with surprise when she came across Ryder staring down Whitney.

“I was just finishing up,” Ryder said to Clara, then turned his gaze back on her. “Whitney was just leaving.”

Whitney’s mouth dropped at the harshness in his tone. That was all he had to say to her? After all these weeks, and all his manners, she got a brush off?

“Is that what you want?” Whitney asked, not giving a shit if Clara was present to hear this or not. “You want me to go?” They both knew she meant for longer than tonight. She’d come to him with the desire to stay, and now he fastened those gray eyes on her and held her fate in his hands.

“Yes,” he said.

She saw a flash of regret in his eyes, but it didn’t matter. That single word struck her spine like shrapnel, slicing all the way to the bone. Turned out, Mr. Diamond with his good polite manners didn’t want her for long after all. She’d been kidding herself to think that his “in the meantime” attitude could ever translate to more.

“I don’t want to interrupt, but I wanted to talk more about the event,” Clara said. “And my daddy said you were looking like the prime candidate to take on the development project for the county.”

Ryder just nodded at Clara, and Whitney put the last piece together. Ryder was up for a big job with the same man whose last name was on the building they stood in. A package deal it would seem, since Clara was the one “coming to chat” about all the details.

If Whitney could ever have a wish, it would have been the ability to teleport far away instead of having to walk past Ryder and Clara and out the door. She’d been discarded. The worst part? She should have seen this coming.

She didn’t fit in his world, just like he didn’t fit in hers. She wanted to experience life and joy, to live for Kacey and try to find some kind of adventure. Ryder was looking to stay right where he was, wielding control over his world with an iron fist.

The problem was that she loved him.

And she’d lost him. The one thing she’d never wanted to experience again.

Every step she took away from him was tearing open her chest. Because she knew what it was like to lose something she loved and be left with only memories of the good times. It hurt worse than any pain she’d ever encountered, and she’d just set herself up for it.

“I knew better,” she whispered as she passed Ryder. Using every ounce of strength she had, she lifted her chin and tried to mask her grief. When she met his stare, her disguise faltered only for a moment, but she had to say one thing. “I knew you were a risk, and I took it anyway. But you have your distance now.”

With that, she walked out and into the summer night. When Kacey had died, Whitney had cried until she couldn’t cry any more. And now that she’d lost Ryder, too, she found she had no tears left, only a bitter, aching emptiness.