Page 33 of The Bodyguard
“Meeting us there,” I say, dabbing the delicate silk.
“How did you sleep?” Ryder asks, and I clench my eyes closed.
He absolutely knows I was pleasuring myself like a horny creep while on the phone with him last night. Damn him.
I glance over my shoulder, well aware I’m standing in my kitchen wearing only a bra and short pink skirt, and find him facing me.
His eyes drift lazily down my body.
I wring the top out and then curse as I realize I left the tea towel on the marble counter behind me. Well, he’s now going to get a good eyeful of my white lacy bra and tits.
If he’s seen my movies, he’s seen them wrapped in lingerie before. As millions have.
So why am I stalling?
Because I touched myself thinking about him. I crave him. We have this unspoken chemistry, and I’ve just ripped my top off.
That’s why.
And why is he still here? He could have left.
I spin around and Ryder’s eyes dart straight to my breasts, then up to my face. For a long second we stare at one another, the air supercharged around us as sparks sizzle.
I know then it’s not just me.
He feels this too.
The water from the top drips down onto my leg and snaps me out of it.
“I need to put this in the wash.” I lift it in the air and head through a door which leads to the laundry room.
I find the stain remover and spray the coffee mark, then drop it into the washer, filling it with laundry powder and turning it on.
When I turn to leave, Ryder is in the doorway.
I swallow.
Deep in his eyes, I see all the desire he’s been hiding. His smirks are gone, and all that’s left is a dominant man forcing himself not to touch me.
He takes a couple of steps and I tug my bottom lip between my teeth.
“We need to talk,” he says roughly.
“Why did you phone last night?” I ask. Those steel blue eyes roam around my face, and this time, I take a step closer to him.
“Why did you answer?” he rasps.
Because I wanted to hear your voice and have you in my bed with me.
“I shouldn’t have.”
He pulls in a sharp breath and dips his eyes to my breasts. I feel my nipples harden.
“Fuck.” Ryder wipes a hand over his face.
Suddenly, I need him to touch me. Badly. My body is still a thrumming pool of need despite coming last night.
But I wasn’t fulfilled. Not like I could be. Not like this man could make me feel.