“I guess I do.” He sparks the joint, passing it to me after killing a few hits. “Still, she throws me off a little something every now and again.”
“You and me both.” I swipe the joint from him and take a long pull. Potent as hell, it instantly works its magic, wiping away every speck of guilt over leaving Amber behind.
“So what’s been up with her this week?” Ryder drops his feet from the dash, curiosity moving over his face. “Other than just now, she’s been . . . off. I know last weekend fucked with her, but there’s more. Are you two all right?”
Sinking into the mother of all highs, I glance at Ryder, debating whether or not to tell him what I asked Amber to do with us. I haven’t yet explained to him how far shit went that night.
How far I went that night.
After fucking around, we talked more about my request, how it’d benefit us all in a multitude of ways. With some heavy coaxing on my part, she eventually admitted to having fantasized about being with me and Ryder, but she ultimately decided it’s something she’s not ready for yet.
Figuring I’d give her time to sit on it, I haven’t tapped the subject since last weekend. Born with the gift of persuasion, I know if I wanted to, I could easily get her to give in now. As tempted as I am to do just that, it wouldn’t be right. Pressuring her into making a decision that’s not truly her own isn’t something I can bring myself to do. I love the girl too much to put her in that predicament.
Besides, I’ve already done enough harm.
Still, her curiosity’s piqued. Sexual wheels spinning, Amber’s brought it up several times, asking questions about how we’d all get through something so intimate without someone getting hurt. It’s obvious she’s worried about not only her heart, but also mine and Ryder’s.
I’ve tried my best to assure her we’d all ease into it, taking our time to adjust to whatever bullshit might come along with the scenario. As twisted as I am, I know I’ll be able to decompartmentalize. It sounds sick, but that’s just the way my brain works. Knowing she uses sex as an escape from reality, I’m more than positive Amber will be able to separate the two, tossing aside any feelings she may cross. That’s just the way her brain works.
“You two good or what?” Ryder’s question snaps me from my thoughts.
I kick him another glance, wondering how the fuck I should go about telling him.
“This is some of the finest Gold Culiacan available, and you haven’t answered me yet. You’re not starting to bug out, are ya?”
“Nah. I’m cool.” Deciding I’m gonna need more to get through this conversation, I take another few pulls from the joint and hand it back to him. “I gotta talk to you about something serious.”
If I thought he looked curious before, I was wrong. Jesus, now he looks all-out disturbed. Ryder nods, his face peeled over in anxiety as he waits for me to continue.
I take a deep breath, knowing I just have to come out and fucking say it. “I told Amber I wanted to . . . share her with you.”
The confusion in his eyes tells me this is gonna be an interesting ride at best.
CHAPTER 16
Ryder
I STILL, SHOCK FREEZING my muscles. “You’re . . . fucking with me, right?”
“No, man, I’m not,” Brock admits, his tone devoid of humor. “I know you two’ve got something going on. You have for a while, and I’m cool with it. No shit, I really am.” He looks at the road then back at me. “I want to show her the highest level of pleasure possible. That’s where you come in. We’d know how to work her, how to give her what she needs. Only the two of us can do that. She’s undecided right now, but I know she wants it. Wants . . . us.”
Tripped the fuck up, images rush through my mind of me exploring every inch of Amber’s body the way I’ve repeatedly imagined I would if given the chance. My pulse speeds, thwacking like a drum as I try to digest his words. I take one last hit from the joint as I look out the window. Just thinking about Amber makes me hard, makes my balls throb. Still, my feelings for her go far beyond physical. Something close to a compulsion, my need for her has deepened.
When she talks, I want nothing more than to cover her lips with mine.
When she’s upset, the ache to hold and comfort her is close to unbearable.
When I make her smile—Christ—I feel like a man, my heart bursting at the seams.
Though she’s Brock’s, the girl’s supposed to be mine. From the second I saw her, something in my gut, a premonition of some sort, told me that. Fuck. I don’t know what the hell it was—what the hell it is—but it happened and it hasn’t let up, its claws digging into the hollow of my chest more with each passing day. Yeah. Way past physical.
Convinced Brock’s playing a sick joke on me, I kill all thoughts of Amber, demolishing them as fast as possible. I know the asshole’s trying to trap me by getting me to admit how much I crave his girl.
How much I need to make her a part of my life in whatever way I can.
Stubbing out the joint on the bottom of my boot, I swing my attention back to Brock. Blood drains from my face, pooling a clump of nervousness in my throat as I realize this isn’t a joke. The skeptical look in his eyes, rigid set in his shoulders, and uncertainty dousing his face say it all.
He’s dead . . . fucking . . . serious.
Brock shifts in his seat, casting me a sidelong glance. “Did you hear what I said? She’s not sure what she wants right now, but if she decides she’s cool with it—and I’m pretty positive she will—I want to share Amber with you.”