The Mating Game: Big Bad Wolf(32)

“This hussy just announced her engagement to another man.” Harriet put her hands on her hips and sniffed in disgust. “I was completely justified. She’s been two-timing you all along.”

“She’s a two-timer,” Marge agreed, nodding. “And she has our pie recipe.” She glared at Daisy. “Give it back!”

“Hey!” Daisy yelled. “I am not engaged to anybody! Frasier was my ex-fiancé, and I have told him a million times that I’m never taking him back. Why would I move in with Ryker if I was engaged? I am one hundred percent sure that my mother ran that announcement.”

Harriet’s eyes went round and she quickly took a step back. “Oops?” she said.

Marge quickly dodged behind Harriet. “I told you this was a bad idea,” she said to her sister.

“Traitor,” Harriet growled at her.

“You’re lucky you are my immediate family or I swear to God I’d…” Ryker’s face turned red with anger. “Off my property. Now!” he roared at them.

They turned and scurried off.

Ryker followed as she stomped a trail of light-blue painty footprints towards the bathroom, muttering under her breath – something about “crazy” and “overprotective” and “boundaries”. Occasionally the tracks were punctuated by a discarded piece of clothing – a dripping shirt, spattered jeans and - his breath caught and his dick hardened – a pristine pair of pale pink cotton panties.

He hesitated before breaking his stride to scoop them up and hold them against his face. He inhaled deeply. Her unique, intimate scent pervaded his senses, setting his heart tripping in his chest as he quickened his steps.

He was just in time to catch a quick flash of her smooth, rounded bottom as she disappeared into the bathroom, still using some very unladylike phrases. Well, that was fine. If he got his way and she didn’t throw him out of the bathroom on his butt, he had absolutely no intention of acting like a gentleman.

The glass walls of the shower stall were already steamed up, and Daisy was a voluptuous blue-streaked blur, but Ryker watched greedily as she raised her arms to run her hands through her red hair. Her full breasts lifted, mouth-wateringly plump, and he almost groaned out loud, his cock an aching length in his jeans.

He hastily toed off his shoes, and as Daisy turned under the spray, he wrenched open the cubicle door and, fully clothed and not caring, he stepped under the water and kissed her, hard.

Her mouth parted on a gasp of outrage, and Ryker took advantage of the moment to slip his tongue inside, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her hard and thoroughly.

He was shaking with need. Within moments his shirt was soaking wet and sticking to his skin, and his jeans were waterlogged. As Daisy kissed him back, she tasted of French vanilla coffee and clean, warm shower water. She wrapped her arms around his neck, going up on tiptoe to press her wet, naked body against his. Their tongues tangled as they clutched each other desperately, before breaking apart and breathing hard.

Ryker’s hands were on the dip of her waist, and warm, faintly blue-tinted water ran over his knuckles. His gaze went lower, to the neat triangle of gingery curls between her thighs, and he shuddered with desire, then looked up at her through lashes beaded with water.

* * * * *

The look Ryker gave her from underneath long, sooty eyelashes set a pulse throbbing low in her body and made the petals of her pussy moisten with something slicker than the warm water that ran over them both. As she trailed her hand down Ryker’s chest, she left faint pale-blue trails on the sodden, clinging white cotton of his T-shirt. The fabric clung to his pecs, outlining the defined muscles, and through the semi-transparent fabric she could see the shadow of the narrow trail of dark hair that led tantalizingly down under the waistband of his jeans. Her mouth went dry as she took in the hard ridge of his erection trapped beneath the drenched denim.

Then without words, they came together again, kissing, touching, clutching at each other with eager hands. Desperate to run her fingers over his smooth, hot skin, Daisy tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, and he paused in his kisses to pull it over his head and toss it onto the floor outside the shower stall. His jeans and underwear followed. He almost overbalanced as he stood on one foot and struggled to peel down the wet denim, and Daisy gave a little yelp and reached out for him. She ended up encircled by his arms, leaning against his broad, muscular chest as he steadied himself with his back against the cold tiled wall. The length of his cock was hot and hard against her soft, rounded belly, and she couldn’t help wriggling against him. The friction made him hiss in a sharp breath between his teeth, and before she knew what was happening, he ran his hands down the backs of her thighs, hooked his palms behind her knees, and effortlessly lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at the small of his back as he turned and pressed her back against the tiles. The surface was cold against her skin, in contrast to the heat of his chest against her breasts, and she shivered a little in his arms even as her nipples hardened and peaked against him. With her arms around his strong neck, she clutched generous handfuls of his thick hair, gasping as she felt the head of his cock at her slick entrance.