Noah looked utterly fuckable, every inch of him a tantalising invitation. It took every ounce of Ryder's self-control to keep from giving in, from pressing Noah down into the mattress and taking what he so desperately wanted.
But he couldn't do that. He knew that this wasn't the real Noah speaking—it was the drugs, twisting his mind and body into a state of insatiable need. Ryder swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly as he gently pried Noah's fingers off his wrist.
"Listen, doll face, I know you're feeling like this right now, but this isn't you talking. It's the drugs. And as much as you think you want this, you don't. Not really," Ryder said softly, his voice filled with an uncharacteristic tenderness. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you, because believe me, I do. But not like this, okay? Not when you're not yourself."
