Nailed Page 15

  I check the time, and curse under my breath—Nate’s bus will be here in less than five minutes and I’m still in my robe. I hustle into my room, lock my door, and get dressed for work in record time. I’ll have to do my makeup in the car on the way, but at least I’m clothed. When I leave my room, Ryder is watching Nate struggle with his shoelaces.

  Eventually Nate gets frustrated, and Ryder kneels down. “Try it this way. Make a loop, wrap the other lace around it, slide the pointy end under the bridge, and pull it tight.”

  Nate tries Ryder’s method and gets it the first time. “That’s a lot easier.”

  “Wanna know a secret? I had Velcro shoes until I was in fourth grade because I couldn’t figure out how to tie my laces. I spent an entire summer trying to figure it out.” He laughs. “And you know, I still hate tying my shoes.” He points down at his feet, which are shoved into pull-on style work boots.

  Damn him—he’s making this really hard for me. I want to take it slow, be cool, make sure this whole thing makes sense, and that I’m not making a mistake with Ryder, but then he does things like this, and proves how great he is with Nate, and my stupid heart melts and melts and melts, and all I want to do is kiss him until neither of us can breathe.

  I check the time, and again have to spring into action. I toss Nate’s lunch into his backpack, snag his hoodie from the hook by the front door, and hand it to him.

  “Bus is going to be here in a second, buddy,” I tell him, shoving the hoodie over his head. “Time to go!”

  Nate pokes his arms through, shrugs into it, and shoulders his backpack on one shoulder; he leans into me for a hug, and then hesitates in front of Ryder.

  Ryder extends his fist, the two tap knuckles. “See later, Nate,” Ryder says. “Be cool.”

  “You too!” He hesitates, and then grins at me shyly. “Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you too.” I kiss his cheek. “Be good. Make good choices.”

  “Okay! The bus is here. Gotta go, bye!”

  He bolts out the door and jogs to the end of the driveway; I follow him out onto the porch, as the bus squeals to a stop. He hops up the first two steps, pauses on the third to wave, and then vanishes inside. I watch as the bus disappears out of sight, before going back inside.

  Ryder is in the kitchen, scrubbing the griddle. He glances at me. “I woke up at five out of habit, ran home, showered, changed, and came back.” He shrugs. “I just…I wasn’t quite ready to leave, but I know you said you didn’t want Nate to wake up with me here like I stayed here, so I pretended like I just showed up randomly—”

  He’s rambling, and I realize he’s nervous, wondering what my reaction to his breakfast surprise will be, now that we’re alone.

  I take the griddle out of his hand and toss it into the sink with a clatter; he has a sponge in one hand, and he’s soapy to his forearms. I tangle my fingers with his wet, soapy ones, splaying his arms out to the sides to keep them away from my clothing.

  And then, with a sly smirk, I lean in and kiss him.

  It starts out slow, but builds quickly. My heart thunders in my chest, and my heart swells at the hunger in his kiss. I can’t help leaning against him, pressing him back against the edge of the sink. Rising on my tiptoes to deepen the kiss, I keep his arms out to the sides.

  He growls, pulling away from the kiss just enough to move his lips against mine. “You better quit kissing me like that or this break of ours will be over before it gets started.”

  “I can’t help it,” I murmur. “You showed up when I needed you, no questions asked. You held me. You let me fall asleep. You got up early and left out of consideration for Nate, and then you came back and cooked us breakfast. You helped Nate get dressed, and tie his shoes…and you made him feel cool doing it. And then I come in here and find you doing the dishes?”

  He grins crookedly. “I was worried I’d overstepped my boundaries.”

  “What boundaries?” I whisper. “I’m so turned on right now, I’m tempted to do something rash.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like screw the break.” I bite my lower lip. “I can be a few minutes late for work.”

  My hand, operating of its own will, descends to his belt, and I fumble with it one-handed.

  Ryder gently takes my wrist. “Laurel…stop.”

  I frown up at him. “Why?”

  “We agreed we’d take a break.”

  “Do you really want that?” I murmur.

  “I don’t want to get carried away. You said you were sore.”

  I have his belt undone, and then his jeans—and now I have him in my hand, all of him, thick and hard and hot. “Ryder…” I keep my eyes on his. “Are you really going to tell me no?”

  He hisses, his eyes ripping away from mine to watch my hand as I glide it up and down his erection. His jeans sag open, and I push them down around his ankles. “Shit…Laurel—you know I can’t say no.”

  “Can’t?”

  He shakes his head. “Can’t. Incapable.” He dips at the knees as I caress him. “Shit, honey. What’s your plan, here?”

  I shrug. “I dunno. I just know I want you.”

  He tilts his head backward. “I left my bag at home—I don’t have any protection with me.”

  I frown. “You don’t keep a condom in your wallet?”

  He laughs. “God, no. What am I, nineteen and desperate?”

  “I don’t have any here either,” I murmur, not slowing my touch. “Come to think of it, I’ve never done anything in this house. I moved in here with Nate a year and a half ago, and you’re the only man to ever be alone here with me.”

  His jaw flexes. “I’m—I’m honored, honey. For real. But we don’t have any condoms.”

  I grin up at him. “That’s quite a conundrum, isn’t it?” I watch him struggle to maintain his balance, locking his knees even as they dip helplessly as his hips quest forward into my touch. “Whatever shall we do? It seems you’re losing the battle to hold out, Ryder.”

  He throws his head forward, his eyes narrow, jaw grinding. He speaks through gritted teeth. “Laurel…seriously.”

  I drop to my knees and grin up at him. “You do things like you did this morning, and I just can’t help myself.”

  “Not—not why I did it, Laurel.”

  “I know,” I murmur, stroking him. “Part of why I’m doing this.”

  He groans. “God, Laurel. I do not fucking deserve you, babe. For real.”

  I sink my mouth around him, stroking him with my fists, and then, when I feel him losing the effort to hold back, I palm the hard, tensed globes of his ass and pull him toward me. My hair is loose, draping in front of my face, tangling in front of my eyes and sticking to my lips and to him—he pulls it back, holding it away as he clutches my head with shaking fingers.

  “Laurel…fuck.”

  It’s mere moments, and then he’s growling through his release, and I taste him, take everything he has to give and more. When he’s done, his legs are shaking and he’s gasping. I stand up, wipe my lips, and tug his underwear and jeans up, zip and buckle him, and back away.

  He blinks at me. “Where—where are you going?”

  I smirk. “Well, I need to brush my teeth again.”

  He seems a little stunned, and it’s cute. I go into my bathroom, smear a dab of toothpaste on my toothbrush, and start brushing. I’m only a few seconds in when I see Ryder in the mirror, entering the bathroom. The look on his face is predatory.

  “You really think you can do that and get away with it?” he murmurs.

  “Geh away wi’ih?” I say around the toothbrush and foam.

  He palms my hips and spins me around. “Keep brushing.”

  I go back to scrubbing my teeth, and he stands in front of me, gathering the skirt of my dress in his hands—it’s a loose, flowing cotton dress, snug around my chest, a line of small buttons marching down between my breasts. He lifts the dress up around my hips, hooks his fingers into my underwear and drags them down, going to his k
nees as he does so.

  I spit toothpaste.

  “Ryder…” I breathe.

  “No arguments from you, huh?”

  “Hell no.” I widen my stance, taking the bunched material of my dress from him and hold it in one hand.

  My electric toothbrush buzzes in my hand, vibrating against my teeth as he laps my core. I remember I’m supposed to be brushing, and give my teeth a few desultory swipes, before forgetting again as his tongue drives against me.

  I gasp, bucking against him. “God, Ryder—”

  He laughs. “So eager. You’re already almost there.” He slips two fingers inside me, and then, when his lips suction and his fingers curl inside me, I come apart, gasping.

  My toothbrush rattles against the sink.

  I have toothpaste dribbling down my chin.

  My legs won’t work.

  When my climax subsides, Ryder moves to his feet, sees the state I’m in, and chuckles. He takes a washcloth and wipes at my mouth, reaches into the sink and turns off my toothbrush, rinsing it and putting it back on the charger.

  I’m still holding my dress up near my navel, and my underwear is still around my ankles, but I’m still too weak and limp and racked with aftershocks to do anything about it just yet.

  Ryder to the rescue.

  He slides my underwear into place, and I force my hand to release my dress; he fills the cup I keep by my sink and hands it to me. “Rinse, honey.”

  I shake myself, and take the cup, grinning at him. “Yum—cum and toothpaste.”

  He licks his lips. “I’ll be tasting you all day.”

  I bend to rifle through a container I keep under my sink, and find an unopened toothbrush. “Here.”

  I rinse my mouth a few times, and then rinse it again with mouthwash while he brushes his teeth—and even this feels strangely comfortable and familiar. Like getting ready for bed together—except it’s almost nine and I’m going to be late for work.

  Ryder rinses and swishes mouthwash, and then grins at me in the mirror. “We’re hopeless, Laurel, you do realize that, right?”

  “I’m not sure I was this horny as a teenager.”

  He laughs. “Oh, I know I was. Not that I got anywhere near this much sex.” He wipes at his beard, making sure it’s clean. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure you’ve given me more blowjobs in the last three days than I’ve gotten in the last ten years combined.”

  “Funny, because I’ve given you more blowjobs in the last three days than I’ve given…well…ever, actually.”

  He makes a face. “Really?”

  I nod. “Until you, it wasn’t really my thing.”

  “It doesn’t show—you’re amazing at it.”

  “Well, that’s good…I think?” I laugh. “Is there such a thing as a bad blowjob?”

  He nods. “Too much teeth.” He fakes a shudder. “No good.”

  “Ah. Well, I’ll be sure to keep my teeth off the goods. Don’t want to damage anything.” I lean against his chest, sighing as his arms go around him. “I have to go to work now.”

  “Same.”

  I twist my head to grin up at him. “I’ll stop and get some condoms to keep here.” He opens his mouth, and I say what I know he’s about to say. “Yes, Ryder, I know—you love the way I think.”

  He leans down and kisses me. “Let’s go.” He pats my bottom. “We both have to get to work.”

  I head for the door to the garage, Ryder behind me. He opens my garage door for me, and then my car door. I sigh as I slide into my car. “I really could get used to this.”

  “Used to what?” Ryder asks.

  I grin mischievously. “Sucking your big hard cock…followed by you eating me out. I’m not gonna say it’s better than actual sex, but it’s close.” I laugh. “Or, alternatively, you cooking breakfast and opening doors for me.”

  “How about you get used to both?” he suggests. “Sucking my cock, getting eaten out, breakfast, me opening doors, taking Nate on fun afternoons out, weekends away together, surprise dates. All of it.”

  “Surprise dates?”

  “I’ve got an idea.”

  “Does it involve us getting naked?”

  He laughs. “You are insatiable, woman.”

  I start my car. “I told you, Ryder. You’ve woken the beast.”

  “Can’t say I’m sorry,” he says, laughing. “Starting the day with your mouth around me is pretty much my favorite thing in the world.”

  “I take back what I said about it being creepy if you were to sneak into my house and eat me out,” I mumble. “You totally have my permission.”

  He growls. “Don’t tease me, woman.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “I wasn’t kidding. I have a spare key hidden.”

  “So I can sneak in in the middle of the night and go down on you?”

  “So we can have ninja sex,” I say. “Among other things.”

  “Ninja sex?”

  “Super quiet, so as to not alert the child down the hall,” I clarify.

  “Isn’t it a little soon to be giving me a key?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Maybe. But I don’t care. I know what I want, and I want you, as often as possible. Eventually, I’ll let you stay the night, once I’m sure Nate will be okay with it.”

  “So I’ll have to sneak out until then?”

  “I don’t want you to think I’m hiding you or ashamed of us, I just—”

  He leans down and kisses me. “I totally get it.” He grins. “Besides, it’ll make it kinda fun, sneaking around like I’m sixteen with a girlfriend I’m not supposed to have.”

  “I’m too old and not flexible enough for car sex,” I tell him.

  He shudders. “God, me either.” His laugh is lecherous. “Although, the bed of my old pickup is big enough to fit a mattress in it. Sex outside under the stars sounds pretty amazing.”

  I widen my eyes excitedly. “With a picnic? And champagne, and strawberries, and cheese, and chocolate?”

  He kisses me again. “Hell, yes, baby. That sounds perfect. Consider it done.”

  I sigh, happily. “I like it when you call me baby.”

  He backs away. “Go. Before I drag you inside and neither of us makes it to work.”

  “Sure thing…baby.” I grin at him as I close my door and back out.

  I drive to work basically floating on a cloud of joy.

  Have I ever been so happy?

  No, I don’t think I have.

  Chapter 11

  A week later, on Monday afternoon, I pull into Nate’s school’s parking lot; I normally pull through the pick-up line to get Nate after school, but today I park in the visitor lot in front of the entrance and go in to walk him out. He’s a little perplexed when he sees me waiting in the hallway outside his classroom.

  “Hi, Mom.” He frowns. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, everything’s great.”

  “Then…why are you inside? You normally just get me in the pick-up line.”

  “I know, but today things are happening a little differently.”

  He’s immediately wary. “Different how?”

  I take his hand and walk outside with him. “You’ll see.”

  “I don’t have to go anywhere with Dad, do I? I just saw him last weekend.”

  I feel sad that he looks at it as something he “has” to do. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. “No, buddy.”

  “Then what?”

  I scan the visitor lot and see Ryder pulling into a spot next to my car, driving his big antique Chevy truck. I glance down at Nate, grinning. “Look who’s here to see you.”

  Nate’s eyes light up. “Ryder’s here? Awesome!”

  Hooooo boy. I know exactly how you feel. We haven’t seen each other since last week; he had to get caught up on work, and I was swamped myself with a new rescue center opening in Vernon Hills. We’ve texted a lot, and FaceTimed a few times, and once we actually talked on the phone until we were falling asleep, as if we were infatuated teenagers all over aga
in. I’ve talked to him, I’ve seen his face, heard his voice, flirted with him, sexted with him, but none of that even remotely assuages my desire to see him in person.

  So yeah, I’m just as excited to see Ryder today as Nate is, if not more.

  Ryder climbs down from the driver’s seat, waving at Nate as we approach. “Yo, buddy. You ready for an adventure?”

  Nate glances at me, curious now. “What’s going on?”

  Pulling him aside, I kneel in front of him. “Ryder wants to take you out for some fun. Just you and him for a couple hours.” I examine Nate’s face, watching his reactions carefully. “Is that okay with you?”

  Nate glances up at Ryder, then back to me. “Just me and Ryder?”

  I nod. “Yup. Just you and him.”

  He frowns. “You never let Derek take me anywhere.”

  “I never trusted him, I guess—which should have been a major hint that he was a slimy poophead.” I smile at my son. “I feel differently about Ryder. I trust him in a way I never did Derek.”

  Nate is clearly thinking hard. “Do I have to?”

  I hold my expression in neutral. “No, you don’t.”

  He looks at Ryder again, briefly. “Why?”

  “Why what, buddy?”

  “Why do you want to take me wherever you’re taking me?” This is addressed to Ryder.

  Ryder takes a knee, and I move aside for him. “Because I think you’re cool.” He holds up a hand to forestall Nate’s protest. “I wouldn’t BS you, kid.”

  “BS?” Nate asks; Ryder just arches an eyebrow, and Nate giggles. “Oh. Bull-crap, but the S word.”

  “Right-o.”

  Nate’s eyes narrow. “Adults like to tell kids things they’d don’t really mean, but when an adult does it and says it’s for the kid’s own good, it’s not really lying. Is that what this is?”

  Ryder snorts. “News flash, buckeroo, that’s still lying. I don’t make a lot of promises, but the one promise I can make, right now, is that I’ll never lie to you, not even that kind of lie.”

  “Okay, so…for real. What’s this about?”

  Ryder takes a moment before answering, and when he does, he looks Nate in the eyes, a hand on his shoulder. “The real, honest truth…I want to take you out for two reasons. One, because I really do think you’re cool, and I want to have some fun with you. I’m a boring old adult, and I don’t get a chance to have very much fun.”