Ryan gripped her wrist and pulled her in, slamming the door behind her. Before she could ask if he was in a pissy mood, his lips planted down hard on hers. His fingers threaded through her hair and held on firmly, but not too roughly.
His kisses, though. They were kind of rough. And totally sexy. She liked Ryan this way. Liked it too much. He kissed the corner of her mouth where her lips opened for him. She pressed her mouth to his and tasted his unique flavor. He was so damn arousing. So damn mysterious.
A shiver tore through her, and he pulled back regarding her with a serious look.
“This is just sex,” she said.
“WHAT ELSE WOULD IT be?” he echoed her reply from their first time.
Gripping on to his shoulders, she jumped up and wrapped her short legs around his waist. Ryan carried them to the chair in the kitchen and sat so she was straddling his lap.
“Tell me if it’s too fast,” he whispered into her ear as he caressed her hips.
“We’re still on first base. In my book, you’re a slow mover. Speed it up, Agent Thorne.” She grabbed the bottom of his shirt and yanked it up over his head. The collar got stuck around his neck, choking him.
“Wait.” He reached for the collar behind his neck and yanked his shirt over his head.
Mia smirked. “That was sexy.”
Her hands were all over his chest, and all he wanted to do was close his eyes and lean back, soaking in her touch. And at the same time, he wanted his hands all over her body. In her hair, touching her lips, her shoulders, her neck.
Damn, her neck had him in knots. He had no idea why. A neck was a neck, but on Mia, it was her Achilles heel. Her sensitive spot. The rest of her body, and even her attitude, was strong and tough.
That small, slender stretch of skin called to him like a beacon on a lighthouse. And like the light on the lighthouse, it warned that trouble lurked around the edges.
Which was exactly what Mia was. Trouble. Not her fault. His.
Her hands dug at the button on his shorts, and her fingers slipped underneath the waistband of his underwear.
“You on an undercover mission here, Agent?”
Ryan kept his face impassive while inside his heart raced like a thoroughbred at the starting gate. She grabbed ahold of him, and he realized she was teasing.
He also realized he was half-undressed, and she was still fully clothed. He moved his hands from her waist and slid them up her sides, across her shoulders, and cupped the back of her neck. Drawing her near, he sipped at her lips, sliding his tongue across them before diving in and soaking up all that was Mia.
From her strawberry scent to her loud opinions to the sweet side of her that wanted to be a children’s author. Her armor protected how fragile she was on the inside, and he worried he’d break through it and hurt her. It was everything he didn’t want to do.
He didn’t want to break through. It needed to be there, keeping him at bay, just as he had his protective shield around him. Around his heart.
With her sitting on his lap, they were eye-to-eye. The hazel in her eyes turned to a dark green as she lifted a brow and narrowed her eyes at him. “You called the shots last time. Today, I’m running the show. Lift your ass.”
Keeping a straight, impassive face was his specialty. His strength. Nothing could break his composure. Except the small sprite on his lap. Complying, he lifted his hips as she tugged his shorts off.
“Better,” she said.
Ryan licked his lips and looked down at his lap. He was butt ass naked, and she had every stitch of clothing on. Better was not the word he’d use.
Untangling his hands from her hair, he dipped them lower, finding the exposed, soft skin above the waistband of her jeans.
So soft.
So perfect.
He could get lost in the satin of her body and never want to get found. Tugging her closer, he found her mouth again and kissed her, but she pulled back.
“My show.” Mia leaned away and took her shirt off, tossing it to the floor by his.
Ryan kept his eyes on hers, not wanting to risk dropping his gaze to her chest. It would be impossible to keep the impassive expression if he got a full view of her breasts peeking out above her pale blue bra.
He could see just enough without dipping his gaze. Focusing on her face, he forced himself to breathe in and out in a slow and steady pace.
Mia stared back just as hard, yet her face was more readable. She was studying him, trying to read him and break him at the same time.
It wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen.
It was just sex, he reminded himself.
Sex with a beautiful, complicated, stubborn, sweet woman.
“If you ever got captured by the enemy, they’d have a hell of a time breaking you.”
Yeah, he’d been told that many times. By his agency. By his wife. Now was not the time to think about Sharon. Or Alex. He lost them because of his job. Another reason to let Mia go.
After today. He’d get her out of his system, make the bust and arrest on Miller and Kaiser’s operation, and head back to New York.
Easy.
Neat.
No complications.
“Unless you’re not interested in making it past first base.” Mia wiggled in his lap and looked down at his crotch. “But something tells me you’re more than ready.”
That was the understatement of the year. It was becoming painful how much he wanted her. Either she made a move soon, or he’d end her little game of control and pin her beneath him on the kitchen floor.
“Waiting for your next move, sweetheart.” The word slipped out, but his tone whispered it in a dare, not as an endearment.
With that, Mia sat up higher on his lap, bringing her chest eye level, and wiggled out of her jeans. He was a man with only so much restraint. Cupping her hips—partly to hold her steady so she didn’t fall off the chair, but mostly because he wanted to touch her—he leaned forward and kissed the swell of her breasts, sliding his tongue across the edge of her bra.
“Oh,” she moaned, still wiggling. She pressed her chest closer and moved again. Then her bra was off, leaving her topless and fully exposed.
“Beautiful,” escaped his lips. He didn’t zero in on her breasts like she so obviously wanted, moving her body to guide him. Instead, he worked his hands and mouth in a big circle, kissing her sides and running his tongue down her cleavage.
“Ryan,” she begged.
“Mmm.” Leaving her sensitive areas alone, he made a trail with his lips up to her throat again, cupping the back of her neck. Her breasts were soft and tempting as they pressed against his naked chest.
If he only had this one time with her, he wanted to make it last. She wanted to be in control, and he’d let her be, for the most part, but he wasn’t going to rush making love to Mia. Not like the last time.
He needed to hold on to her for as long as he could.
Which was only for today.
“How do you do that?” Her body moved on top of his, her hands constantly fluttering between stroking his chest and squeezing his biceps.
“Hmm?”
“You make me ... and not even touching...” Her words were throaty, he could only make out a few of them, and she was becoming breathless, just how he liked her.
Lie. He liked her anyway he could have her.
He wanted to touch her breasts, to dip his hand under her jeans that she still hadn’t managed to fully wiggle out of, but he feared the intimacy would be too much. That he’d never be able to stamp the memory of Mia out of his mind.
Keeping his kisses and touches to her nonsexual parts kept her at a distance. It kept the sex less personal. Or that was what he’d been telling himself.
He held her shoulders—so soft—and rubbed them, absorbing all that he could of her before kissing her again. Her moans were becoming too much.
He needed to be inside her, but she wasn’t ready. She wanted to call the shots. Maybe she was having second thoughts.
Good. It
would be less complicated that way.
Bad. He needed her too much. Which was bad, really bad.
“Ryan.”
Damn, he loved how his name sounded on her tongue. She crawled off his lap and stood in front of him, wrangling herself out of her jeans and underwear. “Please, God, tell me you have a condom handy.”
The part of him that was hell-bent on making stupid decisions had picked up a box after they’d had sex a few weeks ago. He stood and kissed her, giving her naked butt a squeeze before jogging upstairs to his bedroom.
She didn’t follow him, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Good. Sex in his bed would be too ... too much.
Bad. He really wanted to see her naked in his bad, her hair sprawled out across his sheets. He wanted to wake up and smell her on his pillow.
Taking two condoms from the box—just in case—he hurried back downstairs to Mia. She hadn’t moved from her position, standing naked in the middle of his kitchen. Damn. She was beautiful. Not because she was rosy and naked. It was her eyes, smart and sassy. Her hair, long and tempting. Her smile, snarky and a tad insecure.
Coming closer, Ryan cupped her cheeks in his palms, drawing her face to his and kissing her again. He couldn’t get enough of her lips. Her taste.
“No.” She released her mouth from his. “My lead. Remember? Sit.” She pointed to the chair.
Obeying, he resumed his earlier position, and she climbed onto his lap, straddling him.
“Now, where were we?” She trailed her finger down his chest, stopping right before she came in contact with his erection.
Ryan closed his eyes and pushed his head against the wall. This was killing him in so many ways.
“No fun, is it?” she asked. He opened his eyes and looked at her in confusion. “Not being touched where you so want to be.”
Mia leaned forward, her words kissed across his chin, her fingers scraping along his waist and thighs but not quite touching.
“Where do you want me to touch you?” He pinned her with his question. She wanted control, she could tell him what to do. And he’d do it.
In a New York minute.
“Everywhere. I want you to touch me everywhere.”
And he did.
And she did.
And he was freaking doomed.
Forever.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mia collapsed her head on Ryan’s shoulder in an effort to get her breath back. She still straddled him, and her legs were going numb, but she didn’t want to move.
Ever.
By the panting in her ear, it sounded like Ryan was having just as much difficulty getting back to ... normal. He caressed her back with gentle strokes, and she did the same, toying with the short hair at the nape of his neck.
Chair sex was even better than bent over the counter sex. This time she was facing him and could read him. Not that he revealed too much. During their banter and foreplay, his eyes and facial expressions were passive. She’d think him cold and uninterested if his touches and kisses didn’t make her melt into a puddle.
When she finally stripped her bra, she’d expected his eyes to zero in on her chest. She wasn’t stacked, but she wasn’t completely flat chested either. Once again Ryan surprised her by keeping his gaze locked on her eyes.
Those chocolate browns of his darkened, and his breath had quickened, telling her he was having a hard time keeping his cool. That was when his touch turned from gentle caresses to something a bit more. Not harsh. Not gripping, but more.
She wanted to be in control and break his control at the same time. Breaking Ryan Thorne was an erotic dream come true. When she covered him with the condom and then with her body, she finally saw a glint of tension in his face.
He’d clenched his jaw and stared at her, not breaking the spell as she controlled their pace. His hands had finally moved from her hips to under her breasts, and then down south where she most wanted him.
There were fireworks and champagne bottles uncorking and rainbows and unicorns exploding behind her eyes as she’d called out his name. When she’d come down from her euphoric high, she’d opened her eyes to find him watching her again.
His breathing had become unsteady, his jaw tight, and his eyes narrower as if focusing incredibly hard on something.
Her.
She could feel him coming to his end, and he’d roughly pulled her face to his and smothered her in a deep, deep kiss as he had his own unicorns and leprechauns and rainbow firework show.
If she’d had enough energy, she would have teased him about losing control, even for a brief moment, but she was so spent she’d collapsed on him, enjoying the feel of his heartbeat against her chest.
Now, in post-coital bliss, his hands came up and pushed her hair aside, and his lips found her earlobe, then that sensitive spot behind her ear. She moaned against his neck as his mouth found its way around to hers.
This was different. Kissing after sex. Kissing before—normal. Kissing during—only sometimes. Kissing after—never. Yet with Ryan, it was kissing before, during, and after. It clouded their it’s just sex rule.
Mia didn’t know how she felt about that. More sex with Ryan would be amazing, but he was leaving soon, and she didn’t do long distance relationships. Heck, she didn’t do any relationships, but the ones of the long distance nature were a definite no. She’d get bored. He’d get bored. They’d cheat. She’d get hurt.
Totally not worth it. Not even for the amazing sex.
Ryan’s kisses were gentle and soothing, making her forget about the future and falling under his spell. The one that made her fall for him and possibly change her rules.
Nope. Couldn’t happen. No matter how amazing he tasted and smelled. No matter how much his touches made her feel ... special.
She broke away from the kiss and leaned back on her heels. Dang, her legs were numb. She was going to have a hard time walking.
“Thanks for the ride, cowboy.” She patted his naked chest. His hard, sweaty chest. “The sex was fab. I’m going to get cleaned up and will be out of your way.”
Best to distance herself now before she did something stupid, like ask which way to his bedroom. She lifted herself from him, immediately missing their connection and thoroughly enjoying the gasp from Ryan’s lips.
Her legs were rubbery, but she found her balance and scooped up her clothes. “Which way to the bathroom?”
Damn, he was a sight sitting naked and sexy on a wooden chair in the middle of his sparse kitchen. The couch would have been better, had there been one in his living room.
“Top of the stairs.”
Resisting the temptation to jump back on his lap and lick him from head to toe, she spun on her heel and dashed up the stairs.
She took care of business, got dressed, and then noticed her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a giant mess, and her cheeks still red from the wild ride. Who needed Botox when there was Ryan? Her lips were full and pink from all the kissing.
So much kissing. Too much kissing for it’s just sex. Not that she’d call him on it. If sex meant his lips on her, and not just her mouth but her neck and chin and ear and ... oh, the possibilities.
Mia turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. She couldn’t leave the bathroom all hot and bothered. Finger-combing her hair, she pulled it back and wrapped a hair elastic around her ponytail.
It would have to do.
She opened the bathroom door and jumped. “Hey.” Ryan stood in the hallway, his hands in his pockets, and his eyes a new shade of brown.
Not dark chocolate like when they were having sex. Not cool brown when he was all standoffish. They were a creamy chocolate. Soft. Kind.
His gaze dipped to her chest, down her legs, and then back up to her face. Funny how he didn’t do that when she was naked, but now that she was fully clothed he was checking her out.
“I’m going to make dinner.”
She waited for him to continue. With a point.
&
nbsp; Radio silence.
“That’s nice.” She patted his shoulder as she moved past him and down the stairs. Her keys were somewhere. When she’d walked through the door an hour ago—or twenty minutes, she had no concept of time—Ryan had accosted her—in a good way, a wonderful way—and she paid no attention to what happened to her keys.
Spotting them on the floor under the heater, she bent down to scoop them up.
“If you’re hungry, you can stay.”
Mia stood and speculated. Ryan leaned against the front door, not exactly blocking it, but not holding it open for her either. The invite crossed the line, giving her a ray of hope to something that could never be.
Because she was known for making stupid decisions, she agreed. “It’s just dinner.”
“What else would it be?” He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Grilled chicken.”
“I like grilled chicken.” She watched him take a package out and set it on a cutting board. “People need to eat.”
He looked up at her, and she swore there was a trace of a grin on his lips. A small one, but one nonetheless.
“Can you cook?” he asked.
“Can I, or do I? Two very different questions.”
Ryan paused, then returned to filleting the chicken. “Can.”
“Yes. You?”
“Can.”
They were back to fragments and one-word responses. She wanted smoldering, sexy Ryan back. Or James who would talk her ear off about marine life. Ah! That was it.
“So, I finally settled on a name for my mother-son sea otter family.”
Silence. She watched him cut the chicken then toss it in a bowl. He washed his hands at the sink and took a bottle of salad dressing from the cabinet. He shook it then poured a healthy dose on the chicken.
If he didn’t care about her books, fine. If he didn’t want to have a conversation with her, fine. She’d sit there and eat his food then leave.
Figuring it was going to be a long, awkward half hour before dinner was ready, she went outside and walked down to the water. Might as well make herself comfortable in a chair by the water instead of standing around like an idiot in Ryan’s kitchen.
Something More (A Well Paired Novel) Page 13