The Replacement (21 page)

“That’s when things ended?” My voice comes out weakly.

Ryder wipes at his jaw, closing his eyes. When he opens them, he stares hard at the carpet, folding his hands in front of him. “She never let me finish. She was so hell bent on hearing what she wanted to hear, she never heard me out.”

“What did you want to say?”

“That she was wrong. I knew exactly what I wanted, and it wasn’t to screw other girls or be rid of her. I wanted her by my side. I wanted to be young and stupid
with
her. I wasn’t afraid of that commitment, she was. She wanted a way out.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell her that? I mean, after…everything?”

His head lifts and his gaze holds steady on the crackling flames. “I gave her what she wanted. It turns out that was the right choice.”

I follow his line of sight, watching the flames as they dance over the logs, chewing on the off-beaten path our conversation has taken. I take another sip of wine and wait.

“We all have a past, Elise. Sometimes we don’t like where the road takes us; sometimes it leads us exactly where we need to be. I don’t regret my past, and I don’t give a damn about yours. All I care about is this.” He flicks his brown eyes to mine, and they smolder with the heat of the fire. “Where I’m sitting right now, and where you’re sitting right now. That’s all I give a shit about. You’re not up for any sort of relationship? I can accept that, but it doesn’t mean you won’t change your mind. And when you do, I’ll be sitting right here, saying I told you so.”

A short huff escapes me. “What makes you so confident?”

He slowly shifts and turns his body toward me, lifting the ice cream bowl. “Once you eat this with me, you won’t be able to resist my charm.” His sullen expression disintegrates and a sheepish grin takes its place.

My eyes drop to the bowl of dense, glistening mounds. “That life changing, huh?”

He tilts his head and lifts a shoulder, digging a scoop of chocolate ice cream from the bowl. He moves the spoon to feed me, but swings it away at the last second and shoves it between his lips instead.

“Hey!” I nudge him and watch him laugh.

“What’d I say?” He mumbles with his mouth full. “I’m not always a gentleman.”

“Tease.”

His chest continues to shake with light laughter as he spoons another scoop to my lips, this time letting the confection hit my mouth. Just as I’m about to open for the remainder, he moves in and kisses me, slipping me his tongue instead. Pleasure shoots straight down my spine and I accept him, the thick layer of cold cream making me shiver as it glides between our lips.

“You’re rich like chocolate, baby,” he replies, tracing the tip of his tongue along my bottom lip. “Bold and beautiful, and so fucking delicious.” He nips softly at the corner and goes for a scoop of strawberry next. He feeds me some and dips his finger into the remainder on the spoon, sucking at it before trailing it along my jaw bone. “Now, strawberry’s different. It’s loyal. You always know what you’re getting with strawberry—sweet and tangy every time. Unlike chocolate and vanilla, which can vary depending on the type. You’re strawberry, too.”

“I am?” I ask, my voice breathy. Loyal would be the last adjective I’d use to describe myself.

“Yup.” He tilts his head and blows softly along my collarbone, running his chilled finger downward, tugging the blanket away as he goes. “That move at the grocery store back there? That was strawberry.” The blanket rests at my waist and his mouth grazes the neckline of my shirt, eliciting a delicate moan from my lips.

“I like strawberry.”

“Yeah?” He thumbs my collar aside and brings his mouth down on my breast, rolling his tongue over my nipple. My breath hitches at the contact. It’s cold and warm at the same time. “I can give you more strawberry. All you have to do is ask.”

“More, please.”

The delectable sensation eases up as he disappears to retrieve another spoon of pink cream, but it’s back again the second he places a drop on his tongue. He blows over my nipple and watches it harden, smiling as he licks at the pink swirl he’s created. “I like strawberry, too.”

“Oh?”

“It’s my new favorite.” He tugs at the other side of my collar and pulls my bra cups farther down, giving the other breast the same treatment. He’s right. This is divine enough to have me second guessing my strict code against relationships. Well, it’s more like a necessity, not a code, but whatever it is, my mind is frazzled enough to question it. In a flash, he’s discarded my shirt and bra and has pulled me down to the floor with him, placing his back against the edge of the couch. Positioning me in front of him, he props up his legs and wedges me between them, pulling my back flush to his chest so we’re both facing the fire. “Lean your head back, baby.”

I do as he says and exhale, letting my head roll back against his chest. “Whatever your game is here, you’re winning.”

“So soon?” His hands wrap around my waist and move upward, cupping my breasts. My nipples are still cool and hardened from his tongue, and all I can think about is his hands warming them up.

“I’m easy.”

Ryder presses his erection against my back and lets one hand drift beneath my skirt. He rubs softly over my panties as he nibbles on my ear. “I’d say you’re pretty challenging. Speaking of a challenge, I want to play a game.”

“A game?” I give him a little wiggle, hoping to affect him just as much as he’s affecting me. I hear a soft intake of breath over my shoulder, but his voice is steady as ever.

“
Mmhhmm
. It’s called Truth and Bare.”

“I’m intrigued.”

“I ask you something, you tell me the truth. Each time you answer honestly, the reward is one less article of clothing.”

My hand glides down to meet his, but he nudges me away, continuing the slow torment over my lace panties. “I only have two things on.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“Three. Your shoes.”

“They don’t count.”

“Do you want to play or not?”

“Will I get more strawberry?”

“You’ll get a whole fucking banana split if you just play the game, Elise.”

“And if I don’t?” I swivel in his arms, just enough so I can see him over my shoulder. “What if I just take what I want?”

“Nothing’s stopping you. But don’t you want the crème de la crème?”

“I want more strawberry.”

Ryder bites my earlobe and turns me back around, nudging my head so I’m looking back at the fire. His fingers continue to stroke me, so lightly I could cry. “What’s your favorite childhood memory?”

“Pass. Next question.” His stroking ceases and his fingers lift from my skin, sending me into immediate withdrawal. “Ryder,” I groan, arching my back and lifting my hips in protest.

“Answer the question.”

A frustrated breath explodes from my lips and my head falls back onto his chest. “Favorite memory? I don’t know, watching
I Love Lucy
with my mom, I guess.”

“
I Love Lucy
?”

“Yeah, you know, the classic TV show?”

“Why is it your favorite memory?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug, lifting my left shoulder, then the right. What kind of question is that, anyway? And when can he finish this game so I can feel him inside of me? “My mom was always into those old TV shows. Movies, too. She loved James Dean and Marilyn Monroe.”

“
Rebel Without a Cause
?”

“Especially
Rebel Without a Cause
. I don’t know, she was always fascinated with the old Hollywood glamour and all that. When my dad was out working, we’d watch that stuff together and I liked it. It made me feel…safe, or something.”

“What about it made you feel safe?”

“Hey, that’s a lot more than three questions. We both should be naked by now.”

Ryder’s soft laughter rocks my back. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

“Gah! You’re so stubborn. I’ve never worked so hard for an orgasm.”

His head glides forward and his mouth hovers over my ear. “It’ll be worth it,” he whispers. “Come on, tell me.”

I cross my arms and squirm. “I don’t know…maybe because those times were simpler or something? It was comforting getting to live in that world for a while. Especially with my mom. When my dad was gone, things were—” I stop and bite down on my lip, but Ryder doesn’t let up.

“When he was gone, things were what?”

“More peaceful.”

“How so?”

“It was like…my mom and I could live in those simpler times together, back before things became so messed up. Like we were right there, in the movies we were watching.”

“You mean before the cancer?”

“No.” I think, and for a second, I’m actually distracted from the heat of Ryder’s fingers. My gaze settles on the fire’s flames and Ryder is silent. “Before I knew who my father really was.”

“Who was he?”

“A bastard.” I bite down on the inside of my lip until I taste blood.

“I’m sorry,” Ryder says, his voice dry.

“Whatever.” I roll a shoulder. “Typical daddy issues. Nothing you want to hear about, I assure you.”

“And your least favorite childhood memory?”

“Damn, Jacobson. Just go straight for the jugular, why don’t you?” I release a dry laugh but swallow back the discomfort, wanting to play his game. Maybe because this means I’ll get to ask him some questions.

“I wanna know.” He nuzzles his nose into my hair.

“Watching my dad drive away,” I say flatly. “When he moved out.” I don’t mention my hair being brutally chopped off against my will or the names he called my mother. I don’t speak of the insults he hurled at my best friend or the fact that he left me and Mom when she was dying of cancer. All I can think of is that final image—that last glimpse of him as he backed out of the driveway. How there was no goodbye hug or kiss. No explanation or assurance that everything was going to be okay.

Only a slam of the front door and the soft purr of an engine, followed by my mother’s heavy sobs down the hall.

“He left her when she was dying,” I say, bitterness in my voice. “Left me to take care of her. He just…drove away.”

Ryder’s fingers slide out from underneath my skirt and I’m swiftly turned around in his lap, my bare breasts brushing up against his chest. My face is blank and my limbs are numb, the blood slowing in my veins. I don’t like this game.

I want more strawberry.

“That’s shitty, Elise. Really shitty. I’m sorry.”

“Can I have a turn?” I am more than ready to ditch the direction of this conversation.

“Okay. Shoot.”

“If you had a million dollars and could do anything in the world, what would you do?”

He furrows his brow, shaking his head as he scans the room. “Damn, I don’t know. That’s a tough question. I hate that question.” He keeps one hand firmly around my waist and runs the other over his head, rumpling his dark brown hair. “Donate a shit ton of money to causes I care about, read all day, live out in the middle of the woods and become a recluse…I don’t know, go to Europe, I guess.”

I study him as I digest his response, and instantly want to know more. “What’s your favorite book?” He huffs and lets his head fall back on the edge of the couch. I take advantage of his position and lean in to kiss his exposed throat. His Adam’s apple bobs beneath my lips.

“These are not valid questions for Truth and Bare,” he groans playfully.

“Says who?”

“Says me, that’s who.”

“How are your questions any more valid than mine?”

“
What’s your favorite book?
” he mocks, lifting his head back up. “Asking a bibliophile that question is pure evil. There’s no way I can choose only one, and if you make me choose one, you’re forcing me to betray the hundreds of other books that have knocked me on my ass and shaped my soul. If you ask me that, you’re the devil.”

“Okay, then. I’m the devil. Get over it. Answer the question.”

His eyes narrow and his lips swish to the side with a smile. He plants a hand on his chest like I’ve just shot him. “How can you be so cold hearted?”

“It just comes naturally, I guess.” I look down and begin playing with the hem of his shirt. An unwelcome cloud of gloom drifts over me.

His fingers find my chin and he pulls my gaze back to his. “Hey.” Smoothing a thumb along my jawline, he pauses then lets his hand fall back to my hip. “I’ll answer the question.”

“Forget it.” I smile and square my shoulders, lifting my chin. “I have another one.”

“Okay…” he regards me curiously, a trace of mirth still glimmering in his gaze.

“Have you ever hurt someone?”

The fleck of humor disintegrates and the muscles in his neck flex. His light is gone, but he works hard to keep his gaze on mine. “I’m sure I have.”

“Intentionally?”

“Not intentionally. No.”