Ridge Read online

  “No.” Her breath fell out in a rush but her eyes were dilated in the dim light, her lips slightly parted as she watched me while I fingered her through the denim of her jeans.

  “Mmm, something has caught your interest, huh sweet Amy?” I ran my palm up her torso and pinched at one of her pert nipples.

  “I need a drink.”

  “Sure. But there’s a limit here. No drinking if you’re playing. Are you . . . playing tonight?”

  “No, not without a drink.”

  “Okay.” I chuckled and led her to the bar where she ordered a whiskey sour. I ordered before we started off again. Surprisingly, she headed back down the hallway.

  We stood in front of a window, one man sucking another man’s dick. She paused, looking uncomfortable but riveted.

  “Does that turn you on?”

  She licked her lips as she pondered my words. “Is your pussy wet?” I murmured at her earlobe, my teeth scraping along the flesh. A small groan fell off her lips.

  “Ah, you want to see me with another man?”

  “Fuck, that would be . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “Hot.”

  I laughed out loud as she polished off the rest of her drink.

  “I need another.” She looked up at me, her eyes dancing with whiskey and excitement. Maybe there was hope for us after all. Just when I was beginning to think we weren’t sexually compatible, weren’t meant to be anything more than friends, the little kinky vixen came out to play.

  An hour later and she was giggling alongside me as we walked back to my apartment. We’d both drank and watched various scenes at LUST. Scenes that had my mind running away with me. Had me wanting to unleash. Let it all out. Try things. With her.

  I was itching to fuck.

  We tumbled into my apartment and she shrugged out of her shirt and began undoing her jeans.

  “You said you had one of those . . .?”

  I arched an eyebrow at her.

  “Don’t make me say it.” She erupted into a fit of giggles.

  “Mmm, not sure what you mean.” I grinned deliciously as I lit a smoke.

  “The thing . . . with the tail.”

  “Ahh, the plug.”

  “Plug.” Her lips popped on the “p” in a way that had my dick jumping to life. I palmed my semi-rigid cock, cigarette hanging out of my mouth as she watched me.

  “Undress,” I nodded, before I plucked the button on my jeans and pulled the zipper down.

  She shimmied out of her pants, kicked them off at her ankles and ran her hands up her body, kneading at the flesh, plucking at her nipples.

  I groaned as I pulled my dick out of my pants and gripped it in my palm. “Put your fingers in your pussy.” I ran a hand slowly up the hardened flesh of my cock, flicking my thumb over the tip before trailing back down again. “Lay back on the couch.”

  She did as I asked, while I stood in the moonlight, smoking my cigarette, and running my palm up and down my dick.

  “Legs, spread them and shove your fingers in that hot cunt.”

  Her eyes flashed as she fell back on the couch and spread her legs wide before trailing two fingers down her body and plunging them inside herself.

  “Fuck yourself. Hard. Do it like you want me to do it.”

  She sucked in ragged breaths as she pumped her fingers in and out of her body, her thumb swirling the juices up to massage her clit.

  “Don’t stop.” I stubbed out my cigarette and walked to my bedroom.

  A moment later I was back and admiring her writhing on the couch under her own hand.

  “Stop,” I gritted through my teeth before gripping her waist and twisting her over. “Ass high. Come on.” I smacked at the flesh, felt it quiver beneath my hand, as she jumped.

  “Higher, Amy. You want this in your ass? Position for me.” I dragged the new butt plug between her cheeks.

  She sucked in a quick breath and shrunk away.

  “Nuh uh, Amy. Bring that round ass back here.” I yanked her toward the end of the couch and squirted a load of lube between her cheeks. I watched it drip before I swirled it with my fingertips, worked it in, playing as she got used to my hands back there.

  “Ass virgin, hey baby?”

  Just as she nodded I pushed a finger in up to the knuckle. I let her body relax before easing a second in. She moaned and squirmed before her body finally accepted the intrusion.

  “Almost there, sweet Amy.” I leaned over her body, bit at the soft flesh of her waist, nipping hard enough to leave a mark. She squeaked before I pulled my fingers out and replaced them with the tip of the plug.

  “This is bigger than my fingers, baby. Think your ass is ready for it?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  No?” I slid my hands down her crack to finger at the swollen lips of her pussy.

  “I don’t think I’m ready, Ridge.”

  “You were turned on tonight. You liked what you saw.”

  “Yes.”

  “It won’t hurt. Just a quick stretching. Did you like my fingers inside you?” I asked as I massaged my thumb at her rear entrance.

  She nodded fiercely before pushing her ass back against my palm to encourage me further.

  “This is the next step, baby. Ready?” I pushed the tip of the toy against her entrance. “Amy, you gotta tell me.”

  She moaned but didn't answer.

  “If this is going to work you got to be kinky with me, baby.”

  She finally nodded. I smoothed one palm along her ass, my dick throbbing hard and bouncing against her ass cheeks.

  “Just relax. Relax.” I swirled, added more lube, fingered her hard clit, ran my digits through her swollen lips before slowly easing the larger than average butt plug into her tight hole. She sucked in deep breaths as her body tensed.

  “Relax, sweet Amy. Let go; let your body accept me. It’ll feel so good. I promise.” I repeated the reassurances as I eased the plug into her ass.

  A feral groan fell over her lips when I finally had the plug fully seated inside her.

  “That’s it, beautiful girl. Ahh, you look fucking perfect.” I pulled away, admiring the view with the deep purple butt plug sticking out her ass. “Such a good girl.” I landed a swift crack on her ass. “Turn around.”

  She grunted before turning, tears shimmering in her eyes.

  “Suck my dick.” I fisted a hand in her hair. She drew in deep breaths before leaning up to grip my erection. She fisted and then pushed it past her lips. I twisted my hands in her hair and my eyes fluttered closed as she deep-throated me.

  Christ, no one could deep throat my cock like Mia could.

  Fuck Mia.

  I hadn’t done this kind of thing with anyone but Mia. Mia and her dark eyes swirling up at me, challenging me as she ran my cock past her lips. That look in her eyes, there was always the smallest part of me that wondered if she’d chomp those teeth down and bite.

  Fuck I think that thought got me harder.

  “Jesus Christ,” I grunted and thrust, holding onto the back of Amy’s head and forcing my balls to her lips. My release teased at the base of my spine, so close, but not close enough. I needed something. I needed more.

  Mia’s beautiful face flashed before me, her cheeky smile when we played, the challenge that danced in the green pools, the feral anger, hunger. That's what it was, hunger. Hunger for me. For what we did.

  I wondered if she’d played like this with anyone since we’d broken up.

  The air left my lungs, as if I’d been socked in the gut. Dear fuck, I hoped not. The thought physically hurt.

  “Fuck,” I roared and tightened my fingers in Amy's hair as I ran my dick past her lips, desperate to get off.

  Amy. Amy. Amy.

  Mia. Mia. Mia.

  So close. So far. So near. Not near enough.

  “Ready to turn this up a notch?” I gritted through my teeth and before she knew what I was doing, I leaned over her small form and pushed the button at the end of the butt plug
. It vibrated to life and Amy jumped, her lips tightened around my cock, the hint of a pinch from her teeth.

  That was it.

  “Yesss,” I groaned as I thrust in and out of her. She grunted and squirmed and fisted her hand at the base of my cock as she squeezed and sucked before my orgasm finally shot through me. Tensed every muscle in my body and left my cock pulsing and pumping semen down her throat.

  I panted and threw my arm over my head as my chest heaved while I recovered.

  She licked me clean and then backed away on the couch.

  I looked down at her. Big brown eyes gazed up at me with tears. Tears from deep throating, from the intensity of the scene, I wasn’t sure.

  “Lay back,” I murmured as I pushed her back on the couch and spread her legs, positioned my face between her thighs, preparing to lick her to climax.

  “No.” She pulled at the hair on my head and kept me from making contact.

  My eyes shot up to meet hers. They were clenched closed, soft tears falling from her cheeks.

  “Can you take it out,” she whispered.

  My eyes widened. Fuck, she didn’t like this. I’d broken her. Sexually, anyway. Shown her my kinkier side, not even my depraved side, the side that likes to bite, leave marks and bruises, draw blood, and she was already scared shitless.

  My heart fell in my chest as I blew out a puff of air.

  The vibrating had done her in.

  Goddammit if I wanted this to work between her and me, I'd need to keep this reigned in. If I had any chance at a normal relationship, I couldn't ask her to go there again.

  I pushed the button to stop the vibrating and then slowly eased it out and tossed it on the floor.

  She sucked in a deep breath, her hands planted over her eyes as she lay silently beneath me on the couch.

  I licked my lips, unsure of what to say. A mixture of embarrassment, pain, shame, and guilt, melted over me until I finally stood. I padded to the bathroom and tossed the plug into the sink before stepping into the shower and cleansing myself of the sweat and sex that dripped off me.

  What remained was the guilt.

  Amy didn’t do kinky. She’d fucking tried, I knew she had, but it wasn’t her deal.

  And that wasn’t a good thing for us.

  Fuck, I couldn’t just have a normal date with my girl, could I?

  If she couldn't deal with a harmless butt plug in her ass then there was no way she would take to being tied up as I bit and nipped at her skin, leaving angry welts all over her body.

  I leaned my forehead against the tile wall as hot water streamed over my body. Mia’s smiling face, her lusty moans heaving her chest as I had her trussed up in my bedroom, filtered through my brain.

  I missed her so goddamn much.

  A month went by. A month since I’d seen Mia on the dock. A month since I’d had beers with my brother and laughed like I’d never laughed before.

  A month since I’d gone back to Portland.

  Back to my house.

  My life.

  Back to Amy.

  When I came home, she’d looked at me with unbridled happiness. Contentment.

  I wondered how it felt.

  Because it was the last goddamn thing I’d been feeling.

  In the last thirty days, my emotions had taken a nosedive. That night on the boardwalk, when hardly a word had been exchanged between us, changed my life forever. Cemented it. I couldn’t have with anyone else what I had with Mia, and I’d need to come to terms with that.

  I was back to exercising obsessively. Fucking obsessively. Dropping by Amy’s office at lunch for a quick fuck.

  I was smoking two packs a day, walking around like a fucking chimney. And when I was home, alone, it was the fucking worst. At night, after Amy left, after we'd fucked and I politely encouraged her to leave, I ran the treadmill obsessively, then lay in bed, fresh from my shower, cold, wet, and so fucking alone.

  Most nights, I padded out to the balcony with my smokes and a bottle of bourbon.

  It was all I had. It felt like an old friend. I listened to the sounds of the nearly silent city, watched shadows cast by the buildings and streetlights, the moon trailing across the sky. I saw it all without taking it in. I was a goddamn basket case, my mind running through the memories.

  Memories of her.

  Memories of us.

  Memories of our time together.

  The bright smile, the way she ran her tongue along her bottom lip when she was deep in thought.

  The nerdy glasses that she wore after she took out her contacts. I never failed to tease her about them, but the truth was she looked adorable. The way she tossed her hair into a lopsided bun, her knees bent underneath her when she read a book, thumb pressed to the seam of her lips, as if she was riveted, taking it in, unwilling to miss a single word.

  Because every word meant everything. Every moment was beautiful to her.

  And then she’d catch me staring. Her eyes would dart up and a smile so fucking big would cross her face before her cheeks would flush and she would throw a pillow to distract me from staring.

  Those moments were the ones I fucking lived for. They replayed in my mind like a broken fucking record.

  I chain-smoked Dunhills and thought about my Mia. I knew down deep in the pit of my stomach that I would never get over her.

  I'd never get beyond the person that had taken root in my soul.

  When I met her that day, when Lane had called to tell me his fiancée was in town with her sick mother and needed help, it was like a piece of her had lodged inside me and grown, and there was no exorcising it.

  I sucked in one last long inhale of my cigarette and then stubbed it out in the ashtray before thrusting my hands in my pockets.

  The day was here. My brother's wedding. Lane's happily ever after. People were beginning to arrive. I was back in Rock Island, the cause of so much pain. But the pain felt good somehow. As if I was stewing in the misery, feeling something. Feeling the guilt and shame that had piled up, but I’d come a long way, because my brother had invited me to his wedding, and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

  “How are you doing, baby?” Amy stepped up behind me and wrapped her arms around my torso, resting her chin on my shoulder.

  “Fine.” One-word answers; that was what I’d been reduced to. I was pulling away. Amy sensed it, but she was too fucking good to acknowledge it. She wasn’t willing to fight with me about it and was trying to love me through it.

  Because, yeah, she’d told me she loved me.

  I hadn’t said it back; the word felt so foreign on my lips, an emotion I wasn’t possibly capable of. I hadn’t even said the words to Mia; there was no way they were worthy of anyone else.

  But Amy thought I was worthy. She thought I was the man she loved.

  What a joke. I was incapable of love and so undeserving. If she only knew what I’d done. The blood on my hands. The pain I’d caused.

  Her small hands slid into my pockets and nestled with mine. A sweet gesture, but it made me shudder.

  “You gettin’ tired?” I turned as a way to break the space between us. Her touch, anyone’s touch, was making my skin crawl. I couldn’t stand the thought of affection from anyone right now.

  “Yeah. Are you ready?”

  The wedding guests had just watched the fireworks over the water, and the party was winding down.

  “Yeah, I’m going to meet up with Lane for a minute.”

  “Okay. Can I meet you at the hotel? I need to get out of these shoes.” She grimaced as she tugged at the strap on her heel.

  “Sure.” I wrapped her in a one-armed hug, the best I could give her in my current state. She lifted on her toes and pecked me on the cheek before turning and sauntering across the lawn to the hotel where we were staying, across the courtyard. I watched her leave. Her curvy form, wrapped in a slinky, emerald green dress. It showcased all her curves in the best way, but it made me feel dirty. Disgusting. Like I was cheating. On Mia.

/>   How was it that I was okay to fuck my brother’s fiancée, yet leaving her—being with someone else—I felt so fucking dirty? That was how twisted up my head was. That was how fucked over Mia made me.

  I gritted my teeth as my eyes scanned the crowd, before they landed on my brother, his arm wrapped round his new wife. Her palm caressing her belly and the new life they’d just announced they were expecting.

  I was so happy for him.

  And so fucking disgusted with myself.

  After speaking to Lane for a few minutes, I sauntered off through the courtyard where they’d exchanged their vows, the opposite way of my hotel. I couldn’t go back to that room yet, where Amy would curl around me, want to make love, because isn’t that what women always wanted after a wedding?

  A connection?

  Some feeling they were worthy and would get their own happily ever after someday?

  Yeah, well, that guy wasn’t me. The sooner she learned that, the better. I kicked rocks in the new leather loafers I'd bought just for the wedding and followed the edge of the harbor before cutting across a part of the park that was more secluded. I came to the edge, where houses lined the trees.

  Beautiful perfect Rock Island houses. Widow’s walks and wraparound porches. I kept wandering, making my way down side streets, lost in thought until I finally looked up at the end of a cul-de-sac, and found myself standing at Mia’s parents’ house.

  My subconscious had surely brought me here. How fucked up that fucker was. I blame him for my issues over the years. I think I was born with a broken conscience. He fucked me over all the time.

  I stood across the street, my eyes trailing up the windows, looking for a sign of life. A light on, a curtain open. What a sick fuck; I’d been reduced to a peeping Tom.

  I pulled the flask out of my pocket and took the last draw of whiskey I’d been nursing through the wedding.

  Just as I capped it, I saw a figure come around the corner of the house. Two of them, actually.

  “Fuck,” I growled under my breath as I watched Mia press her chest into some douchebag, his arms wrapped around her, cupping her ass as they kissed. “Fuck,” I said a little louder without even thinking, and pitched the flask as hard as I could down the street. It landed with a tinny clank and Mia and her friend pulled apart. He stood in front of her, one arm holding her behind him as if he could protect her.