Ridge Page 7

  “Shut up, Ridge.” She said it. She said my name and it cracked me wide fucking open. It felt like a vice around my heart crushing it into tiny fragments until they fell out at my feet and landed in the water lapping at the dock beneath me.

  “Are . . . you okay?” I asked, finally dragging my eyes from her creamy olive skin and out to the bright line of the horizon.

  “Fine.”

  “Why are you out here crying, then?”

  “I wasn’t crying.”

  I turned to take her in, calling bullshit on her watery eyes.

  “I have allergies.”

  “In June?”

  “Pollen.”

  “Bullshit, Mia. What's wrong?”

  “You’re in Rock Island; that’s what's wrong.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Christ, I don’t want to fight. I was here for Lane’s bachelor party—”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “I saw you earlier.”

  “Ah . . .” Shit; was that why she was crying? Of course, you fucking tool. You broke her fucking heart.

  We’d been apart for months, though. I hadn’t heard a word, not a thing. Why hadn’t she called?

  You hadn’t wanted her to call.

  “How have you been?” I murmured after a few silent moments.

  “Better.”

  “Did you move home after . . .?”

  “No, Mom’s birthday is this weekend.”

  “Oh.” I paused and watched waves hit the rocks down the shore. “I . . . fuck, I . . .” I didn’t know what to say.

  I miss you.

  I can’t stop thinking about you.

  Can we have a do over?

  I really like my brother, and I wish “we” never had happened. I wish I never had had you once so I could avoid knowing what it’s like to miss you.

  I couldn’t say any of that. I didn’t know what was truth and what wasn’t.

  So instead, I said nothing. We sat on the dock, feet dangling over the edge and I thought back to the first time my lips touched her skin.

  More than a week after I’d first met her, and I hadn’t seen her since. Lane hadn’t called again, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she was still camped out at the hospital, hovering over her mom.

  So I went back.

  It was just an after work drop-in and I half expected her to be gone.

  But she wasn’t.

  She was there, much like she’d been a week ago, chatting with her mom as she picked at her hospital food.

  I tapped lightly and stepped into the room.

  Mia's smile lifted softly.

  “Still here, huh?”

  “Yup.” She nodded before looking back to her mom.

  “I thought I could snag you for dinner if you wanted . . .”

  “Are you okay, Mom? For a few hours?” Mia asked.

  “I'm perfect, honey. Go, and eat something bad for me.” She sneered when she brought the flaccid red jello to her lips.

  I grinned and Mia burst out into a laugh.

  “I'll bring you something back.” Mia turned and shrugged into her coat.

  We walked down the hallway in silence.

  Then we both burst out at the same time.

  “She looks better.”

  “I'm surprised to see you again.”

  We laughed and I ran a hand through my hair. I was surprised to be back. But the truth was I couldn’t get her piercing green eyes out of my mind.

  “Did Lane call again?”

  “No, I just wanted to check in.”

  “Thanks.”

  Without deciding, we walked to the bistro down the street from the hospital. It was small, intimate, homey and had the best Italian food in Portland. A little known gem.

  “Wine?” I asked after we were seated.

  “I would love some.” She tossed her bag on the floor and peeled out of her coat. She left a long scarf draped over her neck and I couldn’t help but think how it would be to tie her arms back, circling the soft fabric from her forearms to her wrists, before I plunged into her.

  I averted my eyes.

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  That I wanted inside of her.

  I just couldn't figure out why I was so drawn to her. Because she was beautiful? Because those eyes? Because she was my brother's girl?

  All very bad reasons to be with her.

  “So why did you really come?”

  “What? Why would you think my actions were anything other than sincere?” I laughed and took a long drink of the red wine.

  She swirled her glass in her hands and pinned me with a gaze. Like she was trying to read me. Like she was playful yet had the ability to bust balls all in one go. Put me in my place, and fuck if that didn’t have my dick jumping in my pants.

  Calm the fuck down, man.

  “I don’t think you’re a guy that’s nice to be nice. I sense you expect something in return.”

  “I’m offended.” I ran my thumb along the rim of the wine glass as I took in her creamy skin, the dark slashes of eyebrows and heavy lashes that accentuated her bright green eyes.

  “So your mom seems better.”

  “Yeah, she is. Her last treatment is tomorrow, and then she goes home for a while.”

  “That’s good.”

  “That’s great.” She took another long drink.

  “So why do you look so sad?”

  She licked her lips as she looked up at me.

  “I’m glad she’s going home, but sometimes I think . . . maybe I’d like to stay. That town is so small, stifling . . .”

  “Is Lane willing to move?”

  “Not ever.” She laughed and took another long pull of her drink, the muscles of her neck working as she swallowed, and suddenly I wanted my tongue following that line.

  My dick was so fucking hard I could pound nails. I shifted in my seat as my eyes took in the soft dip of her shoulders, a small waist that I imagined flared into curvy hips that would be perfect to hang on to with every thrust.

  Fuck.

  Our entrées came and Mia swirled the pasta on her fork and took a bite.

  She smiled and laughed and always looked me directly in the eye when she talked throughout the rest of the meal. And those eyes fucking got me.

  “Dinner was great.” She stumbled against me as we walked out the door.

  “Are you okay? Too much to drink?” I thrust an arm around her shoulders and she ducked into it and curled one arm around my waist to steady herself.

  “I’m perfect. I’m so relieved my mom is done with treatments, but, is it weird that I don’t want to go home?”

  Back to this again. I wondered what she was hiding, what had her detesting Rock Island as much as me?

  “Not weird if that’s how you feel.”

  “I can’t put my finger on why exactly, it just doesn’t feel right. Portland feels so much better.” She purred and the soft noise sent a thunderbolt straight to my dick.

  “Portland is a good place to be. Don’t you have a job to go back to?” We shuffled past the hospital without words, and continued to the small park with a light dusting of snow covering the grass. A small pond lay stretched in front of us, snow white swans floating in the cold, icy water.

  “I work in interior design, my days are flexible, and I end up driving down here a lot for consultations anyway.”

  “Ahh. Maybe if you told Lane you wanted to stay . . .”

  “Nah, he would never go for it. He loves it . . . there’s just so much history there. Sort of haunting, ya know?”

  “I know exactly what you mean.” I swallowed as I tried to avoid the honeysuckle smell that floated up into my nostrils. How did she smell like a perfect summer day in the dead of winter?

  “So, Ridge Wild, how come I’ve never seen you around town?” She pulled away and walked along the edge of the pond.

  “I don’t go back, same reasons you talked about. Surpris
ed you haven’t heard.”

  “Oh, I didn’t say I hadn’t heard.” She turned and flipped me a flirty grin. Her hair spun in a whirl of dark chocolate around her shoulders. Soft snowflakes fanning around her.

  “Well, there it is then.” Couldn’t escape my past.

  “Just surprised I hadn’t seen you. And Lane doesn't . . .”

  “He doesn’t say much?”

  “Not really.” She walked slowly along the water's edge.

  “I suppose he wouldn’t.”

  “So what’s the story?”

  “Too long to tell here.” I stopped beside her.

  “No story's ever too long to tell. I like stories, makes people who they are, lets me read them.”

  “You like doing that? Reading people?”

  “Sure.”

  “So then what’s your story, Mia Bennett?” I crooked a grin and hoped she’d take the bait, lay off me, and turn the topic to her.

  “Nuh uh.” She waved a finger at me and her pink lips turned up in a heart-stopping smile. “I asked first. And how did you know my last name?” She murmured just as she stumbled on a slippery rock.

  My arm shot out and I pulled her against my body.

  “Your mom’s last name is on the welcome board in her hospital room. And . . . I like the story unfolding right here,” I murmured, inches from her face.

  “What story's that? she whispered, her eyes trained on my lips.

  Jesus did she want me to kiss her? 'Cause I really fucking wanted to kiss her.

  Fuck it.

  “The story of Ridge and Mia.” I swooped in and pulled her lips to mine. I fisted her long locks in my fingers and tightened, pulling her to me, pressing our lips together in a painful kiss.

  She tugged at my hair and groaned in her throat as she pushed harder against me. Fuck . . . how was she giving it back to me as well as I was dishing it?

  I took long strides and pushed her back against a tree overhanging the pond. She slipped her fingers underneath my collar and dug her little fingertips into my skin as she thrust her body into mine.

  “Fuck, you’re hot. I can’t stop thinking about you,” I growled. The wine pulsed through my veins, went straight to my head along with the image of those bright green eyes peering up at me, all flirty and tempting.

  “You’re leaving tomorrow?” I ground my dick against her pelvis.

  “Mhmm,” she murmured and nipped at my lips painfully. Really fucking painfully. So painfully that my dick hardened further and begged to get inside her.

  “Come back to my place. I want inside you.”

  She pulled away, her head tipped to one side. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “I don’t care.” I ducked and grabbed her bottom lip between my teeth.

  She groaned and tugged at my hair as she returned the fury in my kiss.

  “You think you’ve got it, Ridge. You think anything you say has women coming in their panties. You don’t know what you’re in for.” She turned away and walked straight across the street and into the hospital entrance without turning back.

  How did she not turn back? How could she kiss me like that, leave me aching fucking hard, and not waste a single glance back?

  I was fucked. So fucked.

  I leaned back, my elbows locked behind me on the dock, legs swaying, as I watched the moonlight cast a silvery hue on her nearly jet black hair. I willed her to turn and see me, see my eyes. See everything that I wanted her to know but couldn't say, but she didn’t. She just stared straight ahead, as if the reminder of me, the guy who'd kicked her out after sinking his dick in her one last time, was too painful to articulate.

  I pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and smoked beside her as the sun came up. We must have been sitting there for a few hours, mostly silent, words not even necessary. That was how it’d always been between us. I’m not sure if she got what I was saying, or wasn't saying. What I was feeling, but I hoped she did.

  Seeing her hadn’t changed my mind. She was beautiful, and the ache in my chest widened, the reminder of her face, so much better than it was in my dreams, but it didn't change the fact that we couldn't be together.

  I had my brother back. I couldn't let him go again. Not when shit was starting to get good, for fucking once.

  After the sun fully crested the horizon and the birds started singing and swooping in the bay, she finally stood, cut-off jeans frayed and dusting around her thighs.

  She turned, wrenched her fists together, watching me, her eyes searching my face. I looked up at her, waiting for her to say something. I’d take anything from her, anything she was willing to give.

  I miss you. I hate you. Anything.

  But instead, her eyes finally flickered closed, and she walked straight off the dock without a word.

  And just like that, she disappeared again.

  “Be ready, I’m taking you out tonight.”

  “Mm, and what’s the special occasion?” she purred in the phone.

  “You being you. Can’t a guy take his girl out?”

  “Okay, can't wait.”

  An hour later I was walking down the hall of my apartment building, a bundle of flowers in hand. I let myself in and found Amy ready in a tight pair of jeans and shirt that hugged her curves. She looked hot.

  I was trying to give Amy and me the best I could. I was taking her out. Giving her what I could, while trying to push out Mia and the memory of her sad face on the dock from this past weekend.

  I planted a kiss on Amy's lips and thrust the flowers at her.

  She grinned before setting them up in a vase and wrapping her arms round my waist, nipping at my earlobe.

  “So where are we going?”

  “Dinner and a movie, a real, true-blue date.”

  “Sounds so vanilla.” She grinned.

  “Shh, vanilla can be sweet. Once in a great while.”

  She grinned before grabbing her purse off the counter.

  “But don’t get used to it.” I swatted her on the ass before we headed out of my apartment.

  A few minutes later and we were speeding up the highway, north to a small restaurant up the coast.

  “So what are we seeing?” She titled her head as we took in the marquee two hours later.

  We debated back and forth. Action, horror, romance, comedy. We couldn’t agree on a single thing.

  I frowned, apparently I hadn't thought this official date thing out very well. “Okay . . . so this movie thing isn’t working out. How about I take you for a drink? I know the perfect place.”

  We dropped my car at my place, as it was only a few blocks away, and made our way down a few side streets.

  Amy squinted her eyes as I pulled an old warehouse door open.

  “What the hell is this place?”

  “Ahh, surprise.” I winked at her and pushed her inside, my hands around her hips.

  I nodded at the bouncer who gave me a stiff nod back. I came here a lot. Not many knew of its existence, but that was the charm. Its ability to be discreet.

  We turned down a long hallway, dark and seemingly empty, until we made our way onto a mezzanine that looked out over a club full of semi-clad bodies.

  “What is this?” Her jaw hung open, eyes wide.

  “A sex club.”

  “I had no idea there was a sex club in Portland.”

  “Just one of the things I’m teaching you I guess, huh?”

  “Right.” She rolled her eyes in the dim light. “Do you like to . . . do this stuff?” She tilted her head to one side as she took in two women hovering over a man, one with her legs spread over his face on a couch, and the other sucking his dick.

  “Wouldn't be a member if I didn't.” I wrapped and arm around her and tucked her close. “Wanna go check it out?”

  “Sure.”

  Score. Maybe she would be into this a little more than I thought.

  LUST wasn’t a BDSM club per se, though there was some light bondage equipment, but more a club for people who liked to add a
little kink in the bedroom. Lots of public sex, rooms even for different scenes that others could watch.

  Mostly housewives and businessmen were the up-class clientele.

  “Have you done that with anyone?” She took in a woman kneeling over a bench, strapped at her ankles and wrists, a man in jeans smacking her with a cat 'o nine tails.

  “Not that exactly, but I’ve used a whip before. Does that turn you on?” I nipped at her earlobe.

  “I don’t know if I’m one for pain . . .” Her eyes shifted as the woman moaned when another crack hit her bottom.

  “Don’t knock it 'til you try it. There’s a very fine line between pain and pleasure.” I ran a hand down the crease of her ass to press into her hot center between her legs.

  “Ridge.” She swiveled away. “There are people around.”

  “That’s the point. They’re not paying attention to us. All eyes are on her. See her face? The way her cheeks are all flushed, how's she’s grinding her pussy against the soft cushion of the bench? She loves it. That’s pleasure written all over her face, not pain.”

  “But look how hard he—” A crack of the whip interrupted her words.

  “And she moans louder.”

  “She has tears in her eyes.”

  “Fine line, Amy.” I ran my palm down her ass and squeezed tightly. “Come on, there’s more.” We walked down the hallway to the rooms available for scenes.

  “I can’t even imagine—oh my God.”

  “That got your attention?” A small group stood around a pane of glass that looked in on a woman sucking a man off on her hands and knees, a butt plug with a fox tail shoved up her ass, a riding crop in her master’s hand as he tapped and ran along the flesh between her legs.

  “That’s degrading.”

  “It’s kind of hot.” I appreciated the eroticism before me.

  “You like that?”

  “I like getting my dick sucked,” I murmured in her ear, my eyes riveted on the scene.

  “You would want to . . . with the tail, and the crop?”

  “If I said I had one of those at home, would that scare you?”

  “Really?” Her eyes flashed to mine. A devilish grin crossing my face.

  “With the tail and everything?”

  “The tail no, but the thing it’s attached to. Have you ever . . .?” I pressed my fingertips between the cheeks of her ass to indicate what I meant.