19
Ryker
The f**k was wrong with me? I wanted her touch. Wanted her arms wrapped around me while I sped back southward toward Boston. I wanted her cheek pressed against my cut, her hands creeping up under my shirt, warm palms on my abs.
My d**k even jerked thinking about it. So, why the goddamn cold shiver down my spine?
She invited me in once we pulled up to her apartment. I followed her in like a lost dog, wanting to beg for scraps, beg for f*****g affection I didn’t know how to handle.
We went straight to the kitchen where she offered me a beer. Having no intention of staying the night, I turned the offer down.
She poured herself a glass of wine and ambled into the living room, me once more on her heels.
My throat felt tight as f**k, and I didn’t know what to do with my hands.
P
