I hesitate, my hand on the doorknob. Whatever happens next will change things between us permanently. But I’m tired of running. Tired of pretending I don’t want his hands on me again.
I push the door open, expecting to find Riley waiting. Instead, the room appears empty at first glance. It’s a typical guest room—neutral walls, a queen bed with a plain comforter, a nightstand with a lamp casting soft light across the space.
I step inside, confusion making me drop my guard. “Riley?”
The door closes behind me with a soft click. Before I can turn, hands grip my shoulders, spinning me around. My front hits the door as Riley presses against me, his body pinning mine.
“You wanted to talk?” His voice is rough in my ear. “This is your chance.”
He presses close behind me, keeping me plastered against the door. I could break free if I wanted to. But I don’t. For the first time in my life, I want to stay exactly where someone has put me.
14
Riley
My hands grip Jacob’s shoulders as I press him against the door, the solid weight of his body beneath my palms igniting something primal inside me. The rush of power is intoxicating. Me, controlling the man who could break free with minimal effort but chooses not to. His back muscles tense beneath my fingers, but he doesn’t fight me. Instead, he goes still, waiting. This close, I can smell the faint tang of sweat mixed with his cologne, the scent sending blood rushing south.
“You’ve been playing games all night,” I say, my voice low and tight against his ear. “Letting those women touch you. Making sure I was watching.”
Jacob doesn’t deny it. His body shifts, pressing back against mine. “Worked, didn’t it?”
My fingers dig harder into his shoulders. I press closer, my chest flush against his back.
“Talk,” I command. “You wanted to know why I ran. First, tell me what this is to you.”
Jacob turns his head, trying to look at me over his shoulder. His profile is sharp in the dim light—strong jaw, the healing cutabove his eye, lips parted. “I don’t know what it is,” he admits. “I just know I want it.”
“Want what, exactly?”
“Your hands on me. I don’t know why it feels so good when you touch me. It just does.”
My grip loosens, but I don’t pull away. “Jacob—”
“No one’s ever made me feel like that before.” He shifts, and I allow him enough space to turn and face me. Now we’re chest to chest, his back against the door, my hands on either side of his head. “I want you to do it again.”
His admission sends heat surging through me. I search his face for any sign of uncertainty, any indication that he’s less than sure. All I find is raw hunger in his eyes.
“You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking for.” Jacob’s hand comes up, fingers wrapping around my wrist, pulling my palm to rest against his chest. “I’ve been thinking about your fingers inside me for days. How it felt when you—”
“Fuck,” I interrupt, my resolve cracking. My cock hardens fast at his words, and I can’t help pressing forward, letting him feel my arousal against his hip. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
I drop my forehead against his shoulder, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Because it makes me want to do things I shouldn’t.”
“Like what?” Jacob’s voice drops lower, a rumble that vibrates through his chest into my hand. “Tell me what you want to do to me, Riley.”
His use of my first name breaks something loose inside me. I lift my head to meet his gaze. “I want to bend you over that bed and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.”
Jacob’s pupils dilate, his breath catching. “I want you to,” he says, no hesitation.
I press my erection harder against him. “Now? With all those people downstairs?”
“I don’t care.” His hands move to my hips, pulling me tighter against him. “I’ve been thinking about this since that night in my apartment. About what it would feel like to have you inside me.”
“Christ, Jacob.” I close my eyes briefly, trying to hold onto my last shred of rationality. “This is Renata’s guest room. The party’s still going on. Anyone could—”