Chapter 61: Come Earn It**
Sophie stood in the doorway like she’d dressed for war.
The dark trousers hugged her hips and thighs so tight they looked painted on, the kind of fit that made it impossible not to notice the long, smooth line of her legs and the way her ass curved just right when she shifted her weight.
The top was black, low-cut, and doing work that turned a regular Monday morning into something dangerous – thin straps, a neckline that dipped low enough to show the swell of her tits, and fabric that clung to every breath she took.
She’d done her hair loose and a little messy, like she’d run her fingers through it on purpose, and the heels she wore made her legs look even longer.
This was definitely not work Sophie. This was an attempt to remind him exactly what he had at home.
Ryan leaned against the doorframe, coffee still in his hand, and let his eyes drag over her slowly. "Well, damn," he said, voice low. "You trying to start a fight or end one?"
Sophie didn’t smile. She folded her arms under her chest, which only pushed her tits higher. "You didn’t answer my question," she said, the words clipped and bratty, "the last time we went on a date has been ages."
There it was.
Ryan took a slow sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim.
She was jealous.
More than just in a cute way – more sharp, outspoken way she got when she felt like she was losing ground. But she was still here, dressed like this, knocking on his door first thing Monday morning.
He set the mug down on the little entry table and stepped into her space, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to keep glaring at him.
"I haven’t forgotten anything," he said, calm and even, the way he knew made her bratty energy short-circuit. "You’re standing right here in my apartment, looking like you spent an hour picking that outfit just to come yell at me. So let’s not pretend you’re some afterthought, Sophie."
Her mouth opened, ready with another pouty retort, but he didn’t let her get it out.
He reached up, cupped the side of her face with one hand, thumb brushing her bottom lip. "You want my attention? Fine. You’ve got it. But you don’t walk in here acting like I owe you an apology for living my life. Zara’s part of it. You’re part of it. And right now?" He leaned in until his mouth was right at her ear, voice dropping. "You’re the one who showed up dressed like you want to be reminded who you belong to."
Sophie’s breath hitched. The bratty fire in her eyes flickered, but she still tried to hold onto it. "I’m not – "
He shut her up with a kiss.
It wasn’t gentle.
He pulled her in by the waist, mouth crashing against hers, and she melted almost instantly – arms going around his neck, body pressing into him like she’d been waiting for exactly this.
Her lips parted and he took advantage, tongue sliding in, tasting the faint mint from her toothpaste and the heat she couldn’t hide.
She made a soft, needy sound against his mouth, fingers tightening in his hair, and Ryan smiled into the kiss because yeah, there she was. How the usually composed sophie turned into putty the second he decided to take control.
He walked her backward without breaking the kiss, hands sliding down her sides, feeling the way the tight trousers hugged her hips.
His fingers traced the waistband, then dipped lower, palming the curve of her ass before sliding between her thighs from the front.
The fabric was so thin he could feel the heat of her through it, the way she was already getting wet. He rubbed slow and firm, right over her clit, and Sophie whimpered into his mouth, hips rolling against his hand like she couldn’t help it.
"See?" he murmured against her lips, not stopping the slow tease. "This is what you really came for. Not a fight. You came here because you wanted me to shut you up and remind you."
She tried to argue, but it came out as a shaky breath when he pressed harder, two fingers stroking her through the trousers until the seam of the fabric was damp.
Her knees wobbled.
Ryan caught her, spun her toward the kitchen counter, and lifted her onto it in one smooth motion.
The granite was cold under her thighs; he could tell by the little gasp she made. He stepped between her legs, spreading them wider, and kissed her again – deeper, hungrier – while his hands roamed.
One hand stayed between her thighs, rubbing slow circles that had her squirming, the other slid up under her top, cupping one of her tits through the thin fabric.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. He could feel her nipple harden against his palm as he squeezed, thumb brushing back and forth until she arched into him, pushing her chest against his hand desperately.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, trying to pull him closer even though there was no space left.
"Ryan..." she breathed, voice wrecked already, forehead pressed to his. "Please – "
He kissed her neck, sucking lightly, then harder, one hand still working between her thighs while the other kneaded her tit, rolling the nipple just the way he knew made her crazy.
Her breathing was ragged now, little moans slipping out every time he rubbed her clit through the fabric.
The tight clothes made everything more intense – the way the trousers trapped his hand right where she needed it, the way her top rode up so he could see the soft skin of her stomach.
She was crumbling, exactly like he wanted, bratty pout long gone, replaced by that needy, desperate look she got when he had her right on the edge.
He could feel how close she was getting, the way her thighs started to tremble around him, how she kept grinding against his fingers like she’d die if he stopped.
So he stopped.
Ryan pulled his hands away completely, stepped back, and left her sitting there on the counter – legs spread, chest heaving, lips swollen, top askew, a visible wet spot darkening the front of her trousers.
She looked wrecked. Beautiful and ready.
Sophie blinked at him, dazed, mouth open like she couldn’t believe he’d actually pulled away. "What the – Ryan, you can’t just – "
He walked over to the couch, dropped down into it, and leaned back, one arm stretched along the back like he had all the time in the world.
His eyes never left her. She was still perched on the counter, breathing hard, thighs pressed together now like she was trying to chase the friction he’d taken away.
Ryan smirked, slow and cocky.
"You want my attention?" he said, voice low and steady. "Come over here and earn it."
Sophie stared at him for a long second, cheeks flushed, eyes dark with frustration and want. Then the corner of her mouth twitched – just the tiniest hint of that bratty smile fighting to come back.
But she slid off the counter anyway.
Hips swaying in those thight trousers as she walked.