“Or my mother might come to the window.”
“And?” He circled the small bud. Her breath hitched in her throat.
She pulled her dress up, exposing her thighs. Ryder eased his hand higher and inched around the leg band of her panties. He kissed her lips as he slid a finger into her heat. She squirmed, moaning and grasped his wrist, but she didn’t want him to stop. Already, her come flowed, and her clit swelled. She arched into his touch as he pushed deeper.
“Mmm, angel, you’re so wet.”
“Ryder.”
His thumb circled over her clit with no barrier now, and her pussy throbbed. An orgasm loomed, and the mere fact that someone could walk up on the car at any second heightened her desire. She rode his fingers, pressing his hand deeper. Her core muscles contracted, and the next instant her orgasm descended. She bit down on a cry of pleasure, humping his fingers until the sensations passed.
When she was done, Ryder pulled out of her and sat back in his seat. “That’s better.”
“How can you tell?”
He grinned. “I can.” He reached into the compartment between them and removed tissue. She used it to clean up, and he wiped his hand. Then they walked together to her parents’ front door.
She tugged on her dress. “Why do I feel like the entire neighborhood knows you just got me off in the car?”
He cast her an innocent expression and rang the doorbell. Melanie felt the stirrings of nerves but much less intense than earlier. Ryder might have no shame, but he’d been helpful. She could deal with the dinner better than if she’d gone straight in. Just before her mother opened the door, Melanie noticed the tent in Ryder’s pants and pointed it out. He had just enough time to tame his erection and straighten when the door opened.
“Melanie,” her mother chirped and dragged her into a hug and kissed her cheek. “Come in. Come in.”
Ryder let Melanie step ahead of him, and they moved into the entryway. From habit, Melanie bent to remove her heels and nabbed a pair of slippers from the shelf by the door. She was about to instruct Ryder to do the same, but he’d already removed his shoes and set them together facing the door. She gaped at him and he winked. Of course he must have met with Chinese businessmen in his line of work. She was an idiot for lecturing him, and he hadn’t complained.
Melanie’s dad stepped into the room, and her mother moved to the side. Her smile remained in place, but she quieted and let him speak. When he did, he spoke in Mandarin rather than English. “Song, you finally remember your parents are not dead?”
She bowed her head briefly to him but spoke in English for Ryder’s benefit. “Bà ba, it’s good to see you. This is my friend, Ryder Neyland.”
Ryder bowed as well. “Hěn gāoxìng rènshì nĭ.”
Her mother clapped. “Perfect pronunciation. It’s good to meet you too, Ryder. Come inside, please.”
They headed into the living room, and Melanie sighed in relief. The first hurdle had been passed. As her father and Ryder moved ahead, her mother hooked her arm with Melanie’s. “He’s cute, sweetheart. Is he your boyfriend?”
Melanie didn’t get a chance to answer because a small sound from her father sent her mother scurrying off to get tea. She returned a few minutes later, and Melanie poured for everyone. Ryder accepted his. He waited for Melanie’s father to encourage him to drink and took a sip. A second later, the questions began.
“How old are you, Mr. Neyland?” her father asked.
Melanie suppressed a groan.
“Thirty-five, Mr. Cai, and please call me Ryder.”
“And how much money do you make?”
“Bà ba!” Melanie squeaked.
Somehow, Ryder deflected her father’s innate curiosity and penchant for asking whatever popped into his head. Ryder impressed her by offering the fruit basket to her parents using both hands and in complimenting them on the house and her mother’s outfit. Soon they sat around the table on their knees, and Melanie peeked over at Ryder to see him deftly using chopsticks without a problem.
“Báijiŭ,” her dad called, and her mother brought in the alcohol. She set the small ceramic container next to Melanie’s dad and added four shot glasses. Her dad poured for each of them, and Melanie, her mother, and Ryder waited for her father to offer a toast. He raised his glass, and they imitated him. “Suíyì!”
Melanie wondered if her dad used this toast because he thought Ryder might not like the alcohol so he didn’t need to drink all of it in one gulp. Ryder did anyway. Her dad poured more, and this time Ryder raised his glass. His eyes twinkled as he glanced at Melanie and then back at her dad. “Wàn shòu wú jiāng.”