Authors: Macy Beckett
“Not so fast.” Joy rolled them aside until he was flat on his back, then she straddled his hips. She used a fingertip to trace his viper tattoo, starting with its head, winding over his bunching chest and abdomen, and ending at the inside of his hip. She still intended to lick every decadent inch. “It’s my turn.”
Quirking a crooked grin, Ryan folded one muscled arm behind his head. “I’m at your mercy, Cupcake.”
Joy matched his smile and leaned over his chest. Right before flicking her tongue over his nipple, she said, “That’s
Mistress Cupcake
to you.”
She wasn’t vanilla anymore.
“Happy two-month anniversary.” Joy reached into her grocery bag and produced a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a pair of plastic spoons. “I figured we could celebrate now, since I’ll be stuck at the rally all night.”
A slow warmth spread through Ryan’s chest as he watched Joy peel back the lid and dig in. He’d never been the type to commemorate month-a-versaries, but Joy brought out his inner romantic. Every day with her felt like a cause for celebration.
Besides, who could say no to cookies and cream?
“Let me lock up real quick.” After securing the front door and closing the blinds, he rejoined her near the cash register, where Joy hitched up her skirt, hopped onto the counter, and wrapped her legs loosely around his hips. “Looks delicious,” he said, leaning down to kiss the base of her neck. The floral scent of her skin gave him naughty thoughts. “And the ice cream doesn’t sound bad, either.”
She laughed and batted him away. “No playtime. I have to go soon.”
Ryan groaned in disappointment. Tonight Joy was playing the part of senator’s daughter, dressed to impress the media in a businesslike suit, pearls, and the kind of shoes that reminded him of someone’s grandma. To complete the look, Joy had removed her eyebrow hoops and gathered her hair in a twist.
“You shouldn’t take out your piercings,” he said. “Not if you want to keep them long-term.”
Reflexively, she touched her brow. “It’s just for tonight.”
“What about next time? Didn’t you say there’s a debate soon?”
She blew out a breath. “The election’s in five months. After that my public image won’t matter so much.”
“You sure about that?” It seemed to Ryan that if Judge McMasterson won the race, image would be more important than ever. “There’s always going to be another election.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said with a firm shake of her head. “I promised myself I’d support him until November. After that, I’m reclaiming my life.”
“You can support him by being yourself,” Ryan said. “It might even make him more relatable. Nobody’s family is this—” he searched for the right word “—sterile.”
Instead of answering, she tucked another bite into her mouth.
It disheartened him to see her hide the real Joy—the one whose sixty-watt smile brightened the blackest days. The one who yelled at the television and kissed without holding back and made him feel like a superhero in bed.
The one he was quickly falling in love with.
“Or you could stay here tonight.” Ryan unfastened her suit jacket and slid both palms around her waist. “I recorded
2-Headed Shark Attack
. It looks even worse than
Sharktopus
.”
She frowned around a chunk of cookie. “I wish I could. But I missed the last rally, and Dad took it kind of hard.”
“Want some company? I can come with you.”
He studied Joy’s expression while he undid the first few buttons of her blouse. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered to attend a public event with her, but she always had an excuse to say no. Two months had passed, and she hadn’t introduced him to her family or friends. Ryan told himself it was because he didn’t agree with her father’s politics.
But it felt like a lie.
She dropped her gaze, which told him everything he needed to know—she wasn’t ready for their worlds to collide. Ryan tried not to take it personally. He didn’t give a shit what anyone thought about him, and it wasn’t like he was ready to put a ring on her finger.
“I couldn’t do that to you,” she said. “These things are torture.”
“Right. Torture.”
A slow burn grew inside him. He’d resolved to act cool about this, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. If Joy didn’t want him at the rally tonight, he would make damn sure she remembered what she was missing.
He started by dipping his finger in a pool of melted ice cream and spreading it across her lower lip. Before she could insist there wasn’t time to play, he skimmed his tongue along the trail and delivered an erotic kiss that had her groaning into his mouth. When she broke contact to catch her breath, he made love to the top of her shoulder.
That was all it took to weaken her resolve.
He quickly unbuttoned her blouse, then pushed down both bra cups. As soon as he palmed her breasts, she bowed back for him. Again, he dipped a finger in melted cream, but this time he spread it in circles over her tight pink nipples. He didn’t tease her for long. After a gentle graze of his teeth, he sucked her hard and fast, simply because he loved the sound of her moans.
But he wanted more from her—he wanted complete surrender.
He slid a hand up her skirt, stopping at the satin-covered juncture of her thighs. She shifted on the counter to open for him, and he used a thumbnail to draw circles around her delicate bud, taunting her until it grew swollen and stiff.
“Should I stop?” he whispered against her nipple. “I don’t want to make you late.”
“No.” Her breathing hitched. “What’s a few more minutes?”
“A few minutes?” he asked with a lifted brow.
“Or half an hour.”
“That’s more like it.” He dipped two fingers beneath her panties and played at her entrance, spreading moisture over her folds before delving deeper. “Do you want this?” Then he took her palm and pressed it to the bulge straining the front of his Levi’s. “Or
this
?”
Her answer was clear. She curled her hand around his erection and stroked him to the rhythm of his own pumping fingers. “I want everything.”
“Then come down here.”
After helping Joy slide off the display case, he turned her facing away from him and bent her over the counter. He hiked up her skirt and unzipped his jeans. Leaving her panties on, he hooked aside the fabric and inched into her from behind. She was slick and ready for him, but he kept his strokes shallow, just giving her a taste.
“Ryan,” she pleaded.
He met her gaze in the reflection from the front window. “Ask me.”
Nodding, she gripped the counter ledge and begged, “Go all the way in.” When he refused, she added, “Please.”
With one smooth thrust, he drove upward until their bodies clapped together. He closed his eyes to savor the liquid heat of her body. They’d stopped using condoms more than a week ago, but the unencumbered pleasure still shook him every time.
Once he regained control, he rocked in and out of her slowly while touching her where they joined. She whimpered and chanted his name, already nearing orgasm. But when he felt her inner muscles tense, he brought her back down, repeating the pattern again and again until she was openly pleading for release.
“Look at me,” he said. When she met his gaze in the window, he told her, “When I let you come, we’ll finish together. But you won’t clean up. I want you to feel me in your panties tonight.” He gyrated his hips and made her gasp. “Do you understand?”
She nodded frantically.
“Say it,” he commanded.
“Yes,” she breathed. “I promise.”
Bending over her body, he braced himself on one elbow and rode her hard while using his fingers to massage between her legs. It didn’t take long before she cried out and contracted around his shaft. He followed her over the edge and thrust deep, spilling himself in pulsating waves of pleasure. He held there and swallowed a curse. Nothing in the world felt better than the inside of Joy.
Nothing.
Once they recovered, she pulled down her skirt and buttoned her blouse. Ryan hoped she’d stay a little bit longer, but she shrugged into her jacket and strode to the front entrance while tidying her hair. It felt like a hit and run—something he’d never minded before. Now sex with Joy felt incomplete without taking her to bed and holding her while she slept.
“Happy two-month,” she said. “I wish I could stay and celebrate some more.”
Ryan unlocked the front door and tried to hide his disappointment. “See you tomorrow?”
Joy shook her head. “Before then.” He shot her a questioning glance, and she whispered, “If it’s like any other night, I’ll see you in my dreams.” Then she gave him a soft, sweet kiss that melted his heart like the pint of Ben & Jerry’s
on his counter.
Just like that, she was forgiven. When Joy walked away, she left him with a smile.
It didn’t take long for the effects of gravity to kick in, and just as Ryan had wanted, Joy felt him between her thighs during the rally. The experience was oddly titillating. She shook hands and posed for photographs, all the while remembering the way he’d bent her over the sales counter and made her beg.
Her pulse rushed just thinking about it.
“What are you smiling at?” Mom snapped her fingers in Joy’s face. “The podium is over there.” She turned a critical gaze to Joy’s outfit and began brushing the lapels of her blouse. “And why are you all wrinkled?”
Because an hour ago, my boyfriend was sucking ice cream off my nipples
. “Must’ve happened in the car.”
“You missed a button.” Mom fastened the gap while shaking her head in exasperation. “Honestly, princess, you’re a mess lately. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were—” She cut off with a gasp, her wide gaze fixed on the base of Joy’s neck. “Oh, my God.”
Joy touched her throat, probing for the source of the problem. “What’s wrong?”
“Hurry!” Without another word, Mom took her by the hand and towed her to the nearest restroom. She made sure each toilet stall was vacant before settling Joy in front of the mirror and pointing to a purple mark on the skin directly below her pearl choker. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”
Joy tipped aside her head and leaned toward the mirror, then froze while her stomach dropped to the floor. The granddaddy of all hickeys stood in stark contrast to her skin like a flashing neon sign that screamed
I just got laid!
Oh, God. How many people had noticed?
Mom was obviously thinking the same thing. “Your father’s promoting strong moral values and abstinence-only education and you show up with”—she wrinkled her nose—“a
love bite
on your neck and your shirt half unbuttoned!”
“I’ll take care of it.” Joy dug inside her purse for a concealer stick.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” Mom went on. “You miss events, you show up late, you refuse to entertain our guests, and now this. Are you
trying
to cost your father the election?”
Joy tried covering the bruise, but the makeup wouldn’t hold because she’d begun to sweat. “Look, I’m sorry about the hickey, but I’m done whoring myself out to Daddy’s campaign contributors.”
Mom recoiled as if she’d been slapped. “We never asked that of you!”
“The fact that I never slept with them is irrelevant,” Joy said. “I felt like a commodity.”
“Here, give me that.” Mom took the concealer and dabbed at Joy’s neck, alternately blowing on her skin to dry the perspiration. “At least one thing makes sense. You haven’t been coming around because you’re seeing someone. Who is he?”
Joy pressed her lips together, unsure of what to say. Mom would never understand that Ryan was a wonderful man. She wouldn’t be impressed that he’d made his own way—built a successful life out of practically nothing. She’d hear “tattoo artist” and “orphaned son of two alcoholics,” and then the lectures would
really
begin.
No, thanks.
“He’s nobody you know,” Joy said.
Mom narrowed her gaze as if trying to peer inside Joy’s head. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“You don’t have to like it,” Joy told her mother. It felt good to find her backbone—and use it. The spirits of her ancestors were probably smiling down at her. “You’re not the one dating him.”
Surprisingly, Mom didn’t bat an eye. “What does he do for a living?”
“He owns a business.”
“What kind of business?”
“That’s not important.”
“Of course it is,” Mom said. “In some states, selling marijuana is a legal business. That doesn’t mean I want my daughter mixed up in it.”
Joy rolled her eyes. “He’s not a drug dealer.”
“Well, there’s something you’re not telling me.” Mom inspected the bruise one last time before handing back Joy’s concealer. “Which means there’s something wrong with him.” She pressed a hand to her heart while her mouth dropped into an oval. “Oh, heavens. He’s not . . . a
democrat
, is he?”
Joy couldn’t help bursting into laughter. From the sharp pitch of Mom’s voice, you’d think she was describing a serial killer who moonlighted as a porn star. “No. Actually, he’s a libertarian.”
Mom made a sour face. “That’s no better.” She straightened Joy’s pearl choker and announced, “I want to meet him.”
“No. It’s too soon.” Not only would her parents birth a cow when they caught a glimpse of Ryan’s full-sleeve tattoos, but they wouldn’t hide their distaste. Ryan deserved better. She refused to subject him to their scrutiny. “Maybe after the election, when things calm down.”
Mom seemed to process that for a while. When she finally spoke, her voice was gentle in a way Joy hadn’t heard since she was a little girl. It reminded her of the time Mom had caught her secretly harboring a stray kitten in the attic . . . only it wasn’t a cat. It was a possum. And when the animal had turned on Joy, Daddy came to the rescue, chasing it all over the attic until he trapped it beneath a blanket. After a round of rabies shots for the whole family, her parents had said they were proud of her compassion, but that wild animals belonged outside. Then Daddy had surprised her the next day with a puppy from the shelter.
“Just remember something,” Mom said. “Your father has wanted this for as long as I’ve known him. It’s his passion to shape the future of this country. But he’s only up in the polls by two points, and it won’t take much to knock him out of the race.”
Joy glanced down at the tips of her shoes. She didn’t need another reminder that her actions could cost Daddy his dream. “I know.”
“I don’t think you do,” Mom said. “Last month one of his opponents posted a picture of me online. I was coming out of the grocery store with two bottles of chardonnay for Bunco night, but he spun it like I was some kind of pampered lush.”
“I’m sure nobody believed that.” Joy understood the harsh reality of mudslinging, but she had faith that the majority of voters were intelligent enough to recognize propaganda when they saw it.
“Oh, no?” Mom delivered a serious look. “Until then, your father was up
five
points in the polls.” She tucked a stray hair behind Joy’s ear. “When I married into politics, I knew what I was getting into. Unlike me, you never had a choice. It’s not fair, princess. And I know it’s not easy. But every little thing we do—or don’t do—matters.”
Joy dropped her gaze. Her cheeks burned every bit as hot as the day she’d watched animal control remove her “cat.” She couldn’t believe she’d been so careless as to show up at the rally sporting a visible hickey. She had no intention of breaking up with Ryan, but for Daddy’s sake, she needed to show some discretion.
“I love your father,” Mom said. “And I want him to succeed.”
“I do, too.”
“So we have an understanding?”
Joy nodded.
“Good,” Mom said. “Now let’s go out there and support your daddy.”
“You go ahead.” Joy hooked a thumb at the bathroom stall. Suddenly the wetness between her thighs wasn’t so titillating anymore. “I need to freshen up a little, then I’ll be right out.”
• • •
“Did anyone see you?” Joy darted a glance into the hall while ushering Ryan inside her apartment. In her haste to shut the door, she accidentally pinched his backside.
“Ouch.” Ryan rubbed his butt while handing her a bag of Chinese takeout. “This cloak and dagger stuff is getting dangerous.”
“Sorry, babe,” she said. “I’ll kiss it later—and any other body parts you want.”
That seemed to put some pep in his step when he strode into the living room to load the Blu-Ray player. Joy smiled to herself. For an easygoing guy like Ryan, there wasn’t a problem in the world that couldn’t be fixed with a little extra lovin’ between the sheets. Or on the sofa. He wasn’t picky.
And she owed him some serious gratitude nookie.
Ever since the rally two weeks ago, he’d bent over backward to keep their sleepovers a secret, even going so far as to circle the block and park in front of a different building each night. She hated asking him to sneak around, but after what happened to Mom, an open affair wasn’t worth the risk.
“What are we watching?” she asked.
Ryan joined her in sitting cross-legged on the rug, then helped unpack their dinner onto the coffee table. “
Frankenfish
.”
“Excellent choice.” This story was set in the bayou, so the familiar sights and sounds made it seem more real than the others. “But it’s the scariest one.”
“I know.” After pressing
play
, he leaned back against the base of the sofa and extended an arm. “Assume the position.”
Joy snuggled against him, and when the first fisherman became a meal, she hid her face in Ryan’s shoulder. He chuckled with obvious male pride, wrapping both arms around her until the gory part was over.
“I’m beginning to think you enjoy my distress,” she said, teasingly poking him in the ribs. “Now I know why we never watch chick flicks.”
“You busted me, Cupcake.” He tightened his embrace. “This is my second favorite thing to do when I’m with you.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asked. “What’s your favorite?”
A crooked grin curved his lips. “Enjoying your sparkling conversation, of course.”
“Of course.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, and before long, they quit caring about
Frankenfish
—or their dinner. Untouched cartons of pork fried rice grew cold as they peeled off each other’s clothes and made love right there on the floor.
Three earth-quaking orgasms later, Joy collapsed atop Ryan’s chest, still straddling his hips as she panted for air. “Have you noticed we can never make it through a whole movie anymore?”
He trailed his fingertips over her naked back, bringing chills to the surface of her skin. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Definitely not a bad thing.”
They rolled onto their sides like spoons and resumed watching
Frankenfish
, but several minutes passed between them in silence. Ryan didn’t laugh at the absurdity of an air-breathing fish or crack jokes about who was next to die.
That wasn’t like him.
Joy squeezed their linked fingers. “Where’d you go?”
“Sorry. Just thinking.”
“About?”
He hesitated for so long that Joy began replaying their conversation to make sure she hadn’t said anything to upset him. Finally, Ryan asked, “Remember when you said I should buy tickets to that band we like?”
She nodded.
“They sold out. But I wanted to surprise you for our next month-a-versary, so I got us tickets for a sunset dinner cruise on the
Belle
.”
Joy turned to face him, a smile already forming on her lips. “That’s great!”
“Is it?” Ryan didn’t sound convinced. He propped on one elbow and looked her directly in the eyes. “Because you’ll have to be seen with me. In public. Can you handle that?”
The edge of resentment in his voice caught her off guard. Clearly she’d hurt him. Her heart broke at the notion that Ryan believed she was ashamed of him. Nothing could be farther from the truth. “Do you think I’m afraid to be seen with you? Because I promise that’s not it.”
“You say that, but your words don’t match your actions.”
“What actions?”
He cocked his head at her. “You practically slammed my ass in the door when I got here.”
“Okay, so I’m a little paranoid after what happened to my mom,” she conceded. “But that has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”
“I don’t mind keeping our sex life private. That makes sense. But we haven’t gone out to dinner—or anywhere else—for weeks.” Ryan jutted his chin at their neglected supper. “We hole up in your apartment and eat takeout every single night. What am I supposed to think?”
Joy opened her mouth to defend herself, but found that she couldn’t summon any words to refute his argument. Because he’d made an excellent point. By hiding from her father’s opponents, she’d let the enemy win. And she’d wounded Ryan in the process. She cared deeply for her father and for Ryan, but pleasing them both seemed impossible. There had to be a middle ground.
“You’re right.” She rose onto one elbow to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
His brows shot up. “Really?”
“I was overreacting.” Joy cupped his cheek. “If anything,
you
should be afraid to be seen with
me
. Not the other way around.”
He flashed a hopeful grin. “So we can go?”
“You’re too good to me.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Of course we will—I can’t wait. This is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.” She glanced at their untouched pork fried rice. “Feel like going out right now? You’re not the only one who’s getting sick of Chinese. I’ll spring for a proper dinner.”
Ryan shook his head, and before she had a chance to say another word, he rotated her beneath him. His smile was delightfully wicked when he dipped his lips to hers. “Might as well stay in since we’re already naked. And if I’m not mistaken, you promised to kiss me wherever I want.”
“I sure did.” It would take a lot of kisses to undo the damage she’d done. Fortunately, she loved making Ryan feel better. She slid her arms around his waist and pulled him close. “Just show me where it hurts.”