DON’T STOP

Stealing her innocence 11

Ryder

The shower hadn’t helped. Not really. Water ran hot down my back, steam thick in the small bathroom, but the ache stayed. I was still damn hard. Still throbbing like a reminder I couldn’t ignore. I braced one hand on the tile and let the spray beat against my shoulders, trying to will it away. My own hand had brushed over myself once or twice under the water, slow strokes that only made it worse. No release. No relief. Just more frustration. Grieving, almost. Grieving the years of nothing, grieving the way my body finally woke up for her and still wouldn’t finish what it started.

I shut the water off. Stepped out. Dried roughly with the towel. Dropped it on the floor. I stood naked in front of the mirror, water still dripping from my hair, my c**k heavy and unsatisfied between my legs. I reached for clean boxers on the bed, about to step into them.

The door opened suddenly. No knock, no warning.

I spun around mid-step, still dripping from the shower, with nothing on but a few stray droplets. Lila was standing frozen in the doorway.

Her gaze dropped, then snapped back up to my face in pure shock.

For a split second, neither of us moved.

She just froze in the doorway, eyes wide, taking in the sight of me completely bare. Her cheeks went scarlet in an instant. She spun around so fast her hair fanned out.

“I’m sorry! I forgot to knock,” she stammered, back to me now, hands pressed to her face.

I exhaled slowly. I simply let out a low, rough chuckle. “It’s fine.”

She didn’t turn. “Are you… done?”

I pulled the boxers on quick, then grabbed the black T-shirt from the bed and tugged it over my head. Shorts next. Zipped. Buttoned. “Yes,” I said after a minute. “You can turn around.”

She did, slowly. Her eyes were on the floor at first, then lifted to mine. She still seemed flushed and very nervous. But she stayed.

“Delaney… said dinner’s ready,” she whispered. “She asked me to call you.”

I nodded. “I’ll be down in a second.”

She turned to leave, hand already on the doorknob.

I spoke before I could stop myself. “Lila.”

She paused and looked back over her shoulder.

“I’m still hard,” I said quietly. No shame in it. Just truth. “I think I might have a bigger problem down there than I realized.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. She stepped back inside the room, closing the door softly behind her. The click sounded loud in the quiet.

“I think I’ve made up my mind,” she said, voice small but steady.

I leaned against the dresser, arms crossed loose over my chest. “About?”

She met my eyes. Held them this time. “About us. About the deal. About helping you. About letting you help me.”

The air between us thickened. I stayed where I was, leaning against the dresser, arms still loosely crossed. I didn’t step closer. Didn’t want to crowd her or make her feel trapped. But every word she said landed like a spark on dry grass.

“I’m scared,” she continued. “Guilty. Confused. I…”

I cut in gently before she could finish. “You don’t want to do this?”

Silence fell. It was heavy and sudden. It felt like the room shrank until it was only the two of us—eyes locked, everything else blurring into shadow. The hallway light from the open door cast a soft glow across her face, but the rest of the room darkened, like the world had stepped back to give us this moment.

Then she nodded, quiet and slow. Her eyes never left mine. “Yes.”

One small word. It hit harder than I expected.

I clenched my jaw, trying to swallow the sudden tightness in my throat. My mind went blank. No clever response. No quick fix. Just the sting of disappointment and the quiet understanding that I couldn’t force this. Wouldn’t.

She looked down for a second, then back up. “You should hurry up before dinner gets cold,” she whispered.

Her voice was soft, almost apologetic. She turned, stepped into the hallway, and pulled the door shut behind her with a gentle click.

I stood there alone in the dim room. The sound of her footsteps faded down the stairs. I rubbed a hand over my face, exhaling roughly. Still hard. Still aching. But now the ache felt different—deeper, sharper, less physical.

I took one last slow breath, adjusted my shirt, and opened the door.

Damn it! Even though every part of me wanted to chase after her, pull her back, and ask if “yes” really meant no… or if there was still a chance for maybe.

I took the stairs slowly, one hand trailing the banister. The smell of roasted chicken and garlic hit me before I reached the bottom. Normal. Comforting. A reminder that the world downstairs was still turning the way it always had.

They were already eating when I walked in. Delaney at the head of the table, Lila across from her, plate half-full. The overhead light cast soft shadows on the tablecloth. Everything looked peaceful. Like nothing had changed.

Delaney looked up first. “What took you so long?”

I didn’t answer right away. I just pulled out my chair and sat. “The shower ran long,” I said quietly. It wasn’t a lie.

I started eating. Fork in hand. Eyes on my plate. The food tasted like cardboard. My mind was still upstairs, replaying her “yes,” the way her voice cracked on the word, and the way she’d walked out and shut the door like she was closing something between us.

My leg brushed hers under the table. It was accidental too. Just a graze of her soft skin against mine. But it hit like a spark.

Lila coughed suddenly, sharp and startled. Her hand flew to her mouth.

Delaney turned to her right away. “Are you okay, sweetie?” She reached over and passed her a glass of water. “Here, drink.”

Lila took it with trembling fingers. “I guess,” she managed, sipping quickly. Her cheeks were pink. She kept her eyes down.

I felt it immediately. The touch lingered. Heat rushed south. My c**k twitched, thickening again in my shorts. Hard. Again. Like my body hadn’t gotten the memo that this wasn’t the time or place. I shifted in my seat, trying to adjust without drawing attention. This wasn’t funny anymore. Not even close.

Delaney kept talking, cheerful as ever. “Anyway, how was today at the ranch? Did you show her the new foal? The peaches are coming in early this year, aren’t they?”

I chewed once. Twice. Swallowed without tasting. “It was fine,” I said. “Showed her around. Nothing special.”

I took three more quick bites. I stood up before I’d even half-finished, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“I’ll be in the room,” I said. No explanation. No goodbye.

Delaney blinked. “Well, that’s quick. You sure you’re not hungry?”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Not really.”

I turned away fast. Kept my back to the table as I walked out of the dining room. I hoped neither of them noticed the bulge in my jeans or the way I had to angle my body to hide it. My pulse hammered in my ears. I needed air. Space. Anything to cool this down before I did something stupid.

I took the stairs two at a time. Shut my bedroom door behind me. Locked it.

Leaned against it, breathing hard.

Still hard. Still aching. Still replaying every second of the day.