FORTY

Lexie

Damian was a decent human being. He was an older and more experienced version of the boys I'd dated throughout my time in high school and college. He was a little bit older than I was. Sincere, charitable, and possessing a warm and welcoming demeanor, this man gave off the impression that you could put your faith in anything he had to say. I used to fall for phrases like that all the time. He helped me by holding doors open and carrying my lunch tray. I was very grateful. He told me that he was from the Midwest in the United States. He entertained the notion that he might return there one day. He didn't belong here; it just wasn't his thing. If I hadn't lost my virginity to a forty-year-old just the night before, the age gap between us would have seemed much larger than it actually was. He was thirty-one years old. It appeared to be too young now. And he was entirely too serious. Every kind deed he performed brought back memories of Ryder's brusque manner. The contrast between his harsh public persona and the tenderness that lay beneath, which so few people were ever able to witness. Despite this, I asked Damian if he was interested in getting a drink after we finished working.

I felt guilty. I'd finally located the nicest guy in Los Angeles, and I was taking advantage of him. However, it was functioning properly. I watched as Ryder froze in his tracks when he came into the cafeteria and saw us sitting together. Later, while we were both in his office, his gaze seared right through me. It was obvious that he was jealous. And the fact that he was jealous demonstrated how much he cared.

Damian came to get me at the end of the workday when it was time to clock out. When he saw me coming down the hall from the elevator bank, he smiled at me before turning back to Ryder, who was still seated at his desk. As I got to my feet and grabbed my purse, I dared not turn around to see what Ryder was thinking, but I did notice Damian's smile beginning to waver.

My belly did a happy dance at the sensation. I wished it was because of the appreciative way in which Damian's golden brown eyes settled on mine, but the truth was that it was a direct result of the anger that I sensed simmering in the man who was standing behind me. I didn't understand myself anymore. I wanted to go back to the jerk who had slept with me and then re-homed me like a puppy he'd adopted but decided he didn't have enough time for. Even though the nicest man in Los Angeles was holding out his arm for me to take it, I wanted to go back to the jerk instead.

"In which direction do you wish to travel?" As we waited for the elevator, Damian asked the question.

I was speechless for a split second because I thought he had read my mind. Where was it that I desired to go? Back to Ryder, but how was he able to figure it out? However, before I could embarrass myself further, Damian continued by saying, "If you want to go somewhere that we can grab dinner at after, I know a good place."

Naturally, that was the meaning he had in mind. My stomach churned with both disappointment and relief at the same time. "I'd love dinner," I lied.

We went to a restaurant that served traditional American fare such as burgers, malts, and hot, crinkly, and crispy French fries that brought back memories of being in Ohio. It was completely different from the intimidating steakhouse that Ryder had taken me to for lunch. This place was like another planet. I liked it better. I wish that instead of Damian, it had been Ryder sitting across from me because that would have made my day.

After dinner, Damian escorted me back to the building where I live. I didn't bother to invite him up, so he didn't appear to be anticipating it either. He did not make any mention of going out once again. I wasn't surprised in the least. I had made an effort to keep up my act, but I wasn't able to pull it off successfully. I just didn't have it in me to participate in these games. Not with Damian, who was not deserving of them in the first place. Not even with Ryder, who more than anyone else should have been given the opportunity to play. Not by me, though. I deserved a man who was not interested in playing any games.

As I rode the elevator up to the thirty-first floor, it was a relief to have that thought cross my mind. Empowering. But then I recalled that it didn't matter what I deserved because what I wanted was Ryder, and that was the most important thing. By the time I unlocked Samantha's condo door, my head was already beginning to hurt from the strain of juggling so many competing wants and needs. Even though it was just starting to get dark outside, all I wanted to do was get into bed and sleep.

As I made my way down the narrow hall and past the kitchen, I didn't bother to turn on the lights after dropping my purse near the front door. In fact, I didn't even bother to turn them on. When all of a sudden, the light in the living room turned on, my thoughts immediately went to climbing into bed, sliding between the crisp sheets, and pulling the blanket up to cover my head.

I froze mid-stride. After hearing the click of the rotary switch, my first inclination was to scream, but my heart had already slammed into the back of my throat. The room was filled with a warm, pink light, and there was a throbbing sound there that made it difficult for me to breathe.

There was a man there who was sitting next to it. When compared to the fluffy white chair, he is disproportionately tall, lean, and masculine. He stood up, the expression on his face appearing to be a mask.

"Ryder," I uttered as my heart slowly returned to its normal position. My heart was racing and I was experiencing a plethora of conflicting feelings at the same time as it continued to beat wildly. Fear, relief, and excitement were the predominant feelings at the time. "I was frightened by you."

He gave off an air of indifference, as if it were of no consequence to him that he had brought on the verge of a heart attack in me. "You made a speedy return." He moved around the room, gradually decreasing the distance that separated us.

I retreated a little bit from the situation. It was pretty hilarious how I was constantly discovering new facets of Ryder. I was under the impression that I had witnessed him in a frenzied state on previous occasions, but upon reflection, I realized those were all merely muted examples of his rage. When he got angry, his face would take on this appearance. It wasn't when his eyebrows were furrowed together, when his mouth was set in a straight line, or even when he was letting out a sigh of exasperation while blowing out his breath. In front of me stood a man who exuded an eerie calm and seemed to have complete control of his faculties. This was the source of his rage. I ought to have been terrified, but for some reason, I was only driven to do it. I had the impression that what I was witnessing was something that only an extremely limited number of people had ever had the opportunity to witness. When a tornado touched down in front of them, this was how storm chasers must have felt when it happened. I was more exhilarated than terrified, and I was willing to accept the obvious and obvious danger because the payoff was worth it.

I bumped up against the ledge of the island as I spoke, and said, "It was just dinner. There is nothing else."

Even though Ryder's lips appeared to be smiling, it was impossible to classify this expression as a genuine grin under any circumstances. That expression was the antithesis of a smile. A pitch-black hole that swallowed up all of the visible light.

"Luck was on his side." He moved one step closer to the audience.

I attempted to go in the opposite direction, but there was nowhere else to go. I didn't make any attempt to get away when his arms locked onto the counter on either side of mine, effectively enclosing me in the space. I chose to jut my chin out instead.

"Not that it should concern you in the least," she said.

"You are my concern, Lexie."

His voice had a disembodied quality to it, despite the fact that our faces were in close proximity to one another. The light from the lamp was obscured by the man's broad shoulders. I was able to pick up a whiff of the musk from his cologne. I was able to see his heartbeat beating in the hollow of his throat because he was so close to me. I cocked my head to the side and looked directly into his eyes. It was pitch black and boring inside the mine. I was still reeling from the surprise of him being here, so my head was spinning from his proximity to me. Even though I was experiencing weakness in my knees, I was not going to give in so easily.

I whispered, "Either I'm your business or I'm a mistake," as I pondered our conversation. "I'm not going to do both of those things."

As he clenched his fists around the counter, the bands of muscle in his arms, which were made visible by the fact that his sleeves were rolled up, tensed. He asked me in a harsh tone, "What else could this possibly be?" “You’re–”

"I know all the reasons," I interrupted, trying to deflect the pain that was about to skewer my heart all over again, the way it had this morning. "I know all the reasons." "But it doesn't feel like a mistake to me." I wanted to appear strong, but I was aware that my eyes were taking on a pleading expression. I extended my hand and touched his face, hoping against hope that the hideous mask would break. "Does it really feel like one to you?" is a rhetorical question.

Ryder jerked away as I applied a light pressure with my fingers to the jawline of his face. My eyes immediately filled with tears. I mumbled, "I guess so," as I struggled to free myself from his grasp while he held me captive in his arms. However, his arms were like iron bars, and the more I struggled, the harder he pressed me back against the bar until I was pinned there like a butterfly and unable to escape. His arms were like iron bars. Even though my heart was hurting, my body was still able to register how good it felt when his was against mine. Reacted. It was reacting the same way as his. I could feel his force pressing against my hip, and I could hear the change in his breathing. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and pressed me firmly against him as he attempted to put an end to my attempt to get away from him.

He said this while his hands were tangled in my hair at the base of my neck. "Perhaps you're not my mistake," he said. He yanked my head back, his dark eyes devouring every inch of my face, my throat, and lingering at the place where my breasts were pressed against his tough chest. "But I'm yours. I'm not the right age for you. Not good for you. I am unable to guarantee you a bright future.

I hushed, "I don't care," as I spoke.

It appeared as though my words caused something dormant in him to emerge. They put an end to his resistance. Before I could even finish swallowing the last one, he had already started crushing down on mine. I felt a wave of relief wash over me. It felt like I had been holding my breath for hours, and my lungs were on the verge of exploding, but now pleasant oxygen was filling my lungs. I felt like I needed more and more of him. I desired to feel him all over, to have his skin rub against mine and his hair entwine itself in my fingers. I required him to satisfy me in the same manner as he did the night before. He intensified the kiss by pressing his tongue against mine, and I could taste the desperation in his mouth as a result. Was aware that he shared the same sentiments.

I dug my nails into the buttons of his shirt until he pushed my feeble hands away and undid the buttons himself. I was unable to succeed. Then he broke our kiss to reach down and grab the hem of my black dress, yanking it up to my waist, and then over my head. He did this while we were still kissing. The embroidered black bra with strategically sheer lace that I was wearing had cost me a small fortune, but he didn't even seem to notice it. I was also wearing a matching v-string, but he didn't even seem to notice that. As he stood there naked and bare before me, his eyes were blazing hot as they stared into mine. He had taken off the rest of his clothes. A sculpted figure illuminated by the light of the lamp. I had to force my breath out. Even though I had just seen him in this form this morning, the sheer magnitude of his presence unnerved me. The heat rushed in and pooled in the space between my legs, as if my body wanted to reassure me that I could handle his.

I could feel my heart racing as I reached behind me to undo the clasps on my bra. Hesitated. Despite the fact that he had seen me in this state just this morning, my nerves still hummed with activity.

"Take it off," he instructed in a hushed voice. When he saw my breasts without the embroidered cups on, the darkness in his eyes deepened even more. They climbed to the top of mine. He said it in a way that was half a warning and half a promise, "I don't think I can be gentle tonight."

In response, I rolled the ridiculously tiny scrap of black fabric that was the pair of pants down over my hips and kicked them to the side.

Ryder drew me closer to him, and as his hands skimmed over my bare back and down to my buttocks, I could feel the tension in his grip on me. He exerted a lot of pressure while maintaining his restraint. I eagerly pressed myself against him, wrapping my arms around his neck and rubbing against his cock as I prepared to be satisfied by it once more. However, he shook his head and led me around to the couch in the living room.

"Take a seat."

I sat down and extended my hand toward him, but he shook his head once more and let out a peculiar laugh.

"No, if I feel your lips on my cock, then it's over," you replied. "It's over." We are going to experiment with something completely new."

To my astonishment, he got down on one knee in front of me and separated my knees so that he could squeeze in between them.

"I take it that you've never attempted something like this before, right?" He inquired as he brought his mouth closer to the inside of my thigh.

I just shook my head without saying anything.

His expression was one of contentment as his eyes sparkled. “Good. I want to be the first of everything that you do.

Everything? He reached up with one hand to squeeze my breasts while flicking his tongue into me, but I only had a moment to wonder what else everything consisted of before he reached up with the other hand to squeeze my breasts. I was struck by sensation like a Mack truck. I groaned as I tangled one of my fists in his hair and grabbed the edge of the couch with the other.

"Does it feel good, baby?" Ryder inquired, his tone bordering on that of a taunt. It was necessary for him to observe that both of my eyes were rolled back into my head. I had such a hard time talking. In any case, he did not afford me the opportunity. He was making figure eights with his tongue, and each swipe against my clit brought me one step closer to having an orgasmic experience.

I was able to groan out a "yes." "But I want you inside me."

"What did you think I was going to teach you last night?" He inserted two fingers and continued to pump with great force.

You may experience more than one orgasm. It is incumbent upon me to maintain a steady pace."

Simply by using his mouth and fingers, he coaxed me into submission twice. Then he stood up, as rigid as a rock, with his entire body trembling from the tension of holding himself back to concentrate on my enjoyment.

Despite the fact that only a few moments ago I had the sensation of being completely satiated and boneless, I felt a surge of desire coming on.

I mumbled, "My turn," as I slid down onto my knees in front of him and touched my forehead to the ground.

The moment Ryder's hands wrapped around my shoulders, he started to lift me up. "No," he sputtered out. "I absolutely have to fuck you right now."

After giving me a rough kiss that left me with bruises, he twisted my body around and pushed me over to the side of the couch. "Bend over."

My nerves were starting to come back, so I stooped down and grabbed the arm of the couch for support.

Ryder pressed into me, stretching me nearly to the point of pain from behind his cock. He wrapped his large hands around my waist, and I got the impression that he was trying to restrain himself. Letting me adjust. I gave him a gentle push against me to let him know that I was prepared. That I had a desire for more.

His hands became increasingly fist-like, and he then started rocking his hips back and forth. I had to force myself to keep my eyes closed because the pleasure was so intense. I was making keening noises I'd never heard myself make before. In the meantime, I was pleading with him for more.

He asked as he pressed himself even further into my body, "Do you like it like this?"

I tried very hard to give him the satisfaction of a yes, but my head was already spinning from the force of his thrusts. I responded with an almost pleading "Yes, yes."

I never in my wildest dreams thought sex could be like this. Animalistic in its ferocity but secure in some way despite this. If Ryder had asked me to do anything, I would have enthusiastically complied with his request.

He said it almost to himself, but out loud he said, "I can't believe I'm the only man who has gotten to see you like this."

You are the "the. One and only. I finally got the words out, "I've ever wanted something like this." I was being driven toward another orgasm by the intensifying pleasure as well as the pressure. "Ryder, let me tell you what I'm going to do..."

When I was unable to bring myself to say it, he laughed in a sardonic manner. Proceed, but I'm not finished with this yet. I still have more that I would like to do to you. Show you."

That night I orgasmed so frequently that I lost track of how many times I did it. The lamp that was sitting on the side table was knocked over at some point, which caused the room to become completely dark. After what seemed like an eternity, Ryder gave in and allowed himself to be pulled in. We were both so drenched in sweat that we were on the verge of falling off each other. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him firmly while he jerked and spasmed inside of me. I could feel him moving around.

"Fuck," he muttered as he collapsed onto me, completely spent and exhausted at this point. "Lexie, you are going to put an end to my life."

“Me?” I poked him in the shoulder and laughed at the same time.

"You are the one who knows all of the secrets."

After redistributing his weight so that he was sitting completely on the couch, he pulled me against him. We were both sweating heavily and breathing heavily at the same time. Even though there was a blanket on the ground, neither one of us went to pick it up.

“Ryder.” I leaned back on his shoulder and cocked my head to the side so that I could see his face. "There was no error made here."

He did not open his eyes, but he also did not deny what had just happened.

"And if you ever try to exile me once more –"

Now that his eyes had opened, he was holding on to me even more tightly. "Lexie, you are not going anywhere," the voice said.

Relief filled me.

"And if I ever see Damian's fucking face in the office again, which I highly doubt,"

I gave a vigorous head shake. "He's a genuinely nice person."

Ryder's hold became increasingly firm and threatening.

I finally admitted it to her and said, "But I was only using him to make you jealous."

"It was successful."

I gave him a grin that went into his shoulder. "I know."