Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 100441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you back here at nine.”
I hold up the keys to his car. “Thanks again for this.”
“You should look at getting a car of your own now that you have income.”
“I’ve been thinking about it.”
“Well, until then, if you ever need one …”
My chest warms. Damn him. “You might need to stop being so nice.”
“Why?”
“Because that professional distance thing? So not gonna happen if you keep this up.”
I walk away from him before we do something we’ll both regret.
Only, as soon as I’m in the car, I regret not doing something even more.
I can’t help wondering what he tastes like.
If he’s sweet and tender or rough and take-charge.
I shiver at the thought. At either of those scenarios.
I should’ve kissed him.
Ideally, he’d kiss with all tongue and bad breath, and then I’d be so turned off by him I’d be satisfied with ending my curiosity.
Instead, I spend the whole drive home thinking of his big, pouty lips and the smell of his spicy cologne.
I fantasize about how hard he’d kiss. If he’d back me up against a wall or throw me down face-first.
Stop it, Lyric.
I need to forget about Ryder Kennedy.
These blurred lines aren’t good for either of us.
And speaking of blurred lines, my dick didn’t get the memo about Ryder being off-limits. No, it keeps sending messages to my brain. Clear images of Ryder in his bed right now. Maybe staring up at the ceiling and having the exact same thoughts I am.
Even though it’s a fantasy, I can’t help wishing it were real. And even though I know I should stop, I don’t.
By the time I pull into my brother’s driveway and kill the engine, I’m hard as fuck and begging for relief.
My hand unzips my jeans and takes my cock out.
This feels wrong, doing this in Ryder’s car, but it also feels so hot.
Images of Ryder tossing and turning, unable to sleep because his thoughts are full of me, my songs, my voice, keep filling my head.
He’d imagine what it would be like to kiss me. Maybe bend me over his control desk in the sound room.
Comically, while he’d be pounding into me, I’d reach out to hold on to something—anything—and accidentally mess with all the settings. Then the next time he uses the studio and one of his artists sounds like a chipmunk, he’d remember how he’d fucked me and be distracted for the rest of his session.
He’d come find me afterward and would tell Kaylee to keep watching TV or to go play by herself, and unlike real life where we know that wouldn’t last long, she’d do it no questions asked while Ryder pulled me into the bathroom and got down on his knees for me.
His mouth would move over my hard cock, slowly and teasingly, because this is my fantasy world, and we have no possibility of being interrupted by a tiny human and could take as long as we wanted.
He’d want to take his time, go slow, but with him sucking on my hot skin and my cock nudging the back of his throat, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fucking into his mouth over and over again until—
My eyes fly open, and shit. I got so lost in my fantasy, I came all over my hand.
So professional, Lyric.
Really.
About my boss, no less.
Not that he has ever felt that way to me. It feels more like we’re a team than boss and employee. We clicked instantly that day we met.
It’s why I made all the best-friend jokes.
For once in my grown-up life, making friends was as easy as picking a fight and then playing nice.
But essentially, what it comes down to is he’s my employer. I work for him. It doesn’t matter how comfortable I am around him.
Situations like this rarely work out, and legally, it could be a nightmare for him.
When Chord and Brenna started dating, they worked for the same law firm. They had to disclose they were seeing each other to HR so that it could be all tied in a neat, little legal bow and they wouldn’t sue the company if shit went down.
Ryder and I can’t do that. Our contract is between the two of us.
Being with me—even contemplating being with me—would bring a lot of legal hurt on Ryder, and that’s the last thing I want for him.
As the thrill of orgasm fades, it’s replaced with guilt and shame.
Because thinking about Ryder this way is wrong. Jerking off in his car is definitely wrong.
I might need to do the only other thing I can to ensure we keep our distance.
I shouldn’t let Ryder produce my demo, but there’s a lot of stuff about Ryder I shouldn’t do.
Hasn’t stopped me yet.
Chapter Thirteen
Ryder
After a long night of restless sleep, and not because of Kaylee this time, I’m convinced Lyric and I have screwed everything up even though nothing happened.