Can't Touch This (Can't Touch This #1)

His honesty blew my mind. My fingers swirled fast and sure on my clit. I knew how to get myself off quickly and knowing Ryder had already orgasmed while thinking about me was the last catalyst I needed.

My body erupted.

Bands of pleasure quaked my core.

When I could hold my phone again without shuddering with bliss, I typed: My pressing matter has also been taken care of.

Ryder: Goddammit, I wish I’d been there to watch.

Me: An encore could always be arranged.

Ryder. You’ll get a standing ovation.

Me: I’ll hold you to that.

Ryder: When can I see you again? Scar and I miss you.

The fact that Scar was holding on pleased and saddened me. It couldn’t be easy being breathless but between the drugs and Ryder’s care, I had no doubt he would be loving life and I could understand the reluctance to let go just yet.

Me: Day after tomorrow? I have a few surgeries coming up and another online conference to attend.

Ryder: If I didn’t love animals so much I’d hate them for stealing your time.

Me: If I didn’t love animals so much I’d stand them up just to feel you inside me again.

Ryder: Ves?

Me: Yes.

Ryder: I’m so damn lucky you moved to this town.

Me: I’m the lucky one. Goodnight, Ry.

Ryder: Shit, you called me Ry. My pressing problem has just returned. Thanks.

I smirked, snuggling into my pillows as Visa positioned herself in her favourite place on top of my head and swatted my curls.

Me: Maybe postpone that one. I’ll help you out with it next time we see each other. Now, I really do need to sleep. But rest assured, I’ll be dreaming of you.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

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Ryder

“IF YOU EVER DO THAT to me again, I’m going to have to marry you.”

I couldn’t stop the repetition.

The glorious, terrifying, amazing repetition.

Had she meant it? Or was it heat of the moment stupidity? I’d suffered such insanity when I was about to jizz on Vesper’s yellow curtains. The idiocy of Mrs. Lesley thinking I was her cousin, coupled with the desperate desire to climb inside her had had thoughts of marriage sprouting all over the damn place.

Jokes were fine.

Humour was awesome.

But what was that saying? There is no truer thing said than in jest?