Runaway Puck by Wynter Ryan

Author:Wynter Ryan [Ryan, Wynter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wynter Wonderland Publishing
Published: 2024-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

Rose

I let out the breath I was holding ever since I thought Dylan was going to kiss me. Instead, the pizza arrived, and I'm left standing in the middle of the hallway with a racing heart and damp thighs. My one and only pair of panties have been washed out in the sink and are now drying in the guest bathroom.

And with no bra, the girls are left to bounce free of any constraints. The look in Dylan's eyes when he let his gaze run down my body indicates he's not too upset by my lack of undergarments.

The front door slams, snapping me out of my lust-filled thoughts of Dylan, and I hurry into the living room, grabbing a blanket off the couch to wrap my body in. A girl has got to eat, and I let anyone or anything distract me from that. Besides, if the night goes as planned, I'm going to need all the energy I can.

"So, about the wedding," Dylan asks halfway through our first pizza. You've got to love a guy who orders more than just one pizza.

"I realized I agreed to marry Gavin for all the wrong reasons. I know Iris has told you all about the DNA kit I bought her for her birthday and how it destroyed our family." Dylan frowns at my words. "But I'm glad it happened." I set my slice of pizza down and take his hand in mine, "But I'm glad it happened. I'm glad Iris found you. I'm glad I met you."

Dylan sets his slice of pizza down next to mine, "I'm glad I met you too, Rose. And I'm really glad you didn't marry Gavin." He jokes, making us both laugh.

Dylan stops laughing, his lips turned down in a frown, "What do you want to do now that you're not marrying Gavin?"

"Well, actually, I write romance novels." I duck my head, embarrassed at telling him what I do for a living now.

"Wow, that's really cool, Rose. I've never met an author before."

I drink in his praise. He's the first person I've told about my writing career, "I write under a pen name." I find myself elaborating.

"What is it? I'd like to read some of your books."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for anyone I know to read my books." I cringe thinking about the sex scenes in my books.

"Why? I bet you're a great writer. Come on, tell me." He moves closer to me, taking up all the space around me.

"I can't." I continue to protest.

"That's not good enough. Come on, you can tell me," he coaxes.

"Fine." I lean forward so our bodies are touching, "Because I'm a virgin who writes about sex."

He inhales sharply, and before I know it, he's on top of me, his hands running through my hair, "Do you need lessons?" His lips touch my throat. "I might be a virgin too, but we can learn together," his lips find mine, and he swallows my reply.

My arms snake around Dylan's neck, pulling him closer.

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