“Good!”
“Just so you know, I’m not going to try to take advantage of the situation or anything. If you want to stop or if something makes you uncomfortable, let me know.”
“You’re a gentleman,” I said with a smile.
“I try to be.”
I sat on my bed, patting the spot next to me that was covered with my pink comforter. “Sit down.”
“Okay, what now?”
“How am I supposed to know? This is your plan!”
“Kissing?”
“You want to kiss?”
“It’s either that or strip down to our underwear.”
I gulped and stared at him. Both options sounded like heaven to me. My tongue moistened my lips as I couldn’t help but stare at his mouth. Something in my gut informed me I was going to enjoy kissing Ryan a little too much. Since Mom passed, I’ve kept my heart closely guarded when it came to love. I’d never fallen for someone, never wanted to, but Ryan seemed different. He wasn’t like all the other guys I’d encountered, and the thought was terrifying.
“Underwear it is,” I stated.
“You’re sure?”
“Kissing seems really intimate, don’t you think?”
“Depends on what part of the body is being kissed.” He snickered and pulled his T-shirt over his head.
“Huh?” I was in so much trouble. Because the first body part that came to mind was the damn p-word. I gawked at Ryan as he stripped down to a pair of black boxers. He was lean and muscular in all the right places, and the quick glance I’d gotten of his abs was just the tip of the damn iceberg. The man could give Michelangelo’s David a run for its money.
“Not going to leave me out in the cold, are you?”
His question was a frank reminder that I still had to talk to him and form coherent thoughts. Drooling over him like a brainless zombie wasn’t doing me any favors. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” I wasn’t one to be shy, but my fingers trembled as I removed my tank top. I eased out of my jean shorts until the only articles of clothing I still wore were my matching bra and panties.
“That’s a great color on you.”
Glancing down at the red fabric, I fought the sudden urge to cover myself up. “Thank you.” The sound of a key jiggling in a lock distracted me from Ryan’s ridiculous body. “That’s her!” I whisper-yelled. “Quick!”
All rational thinking flew out the window as I jumped on top of Ryan. Much to my excitement, his strong arms caught me with little effort. And every ounce of anxiety I felt melted away the moment our skin met.
“Hi,” he whispered, grinning like a damn fool.
“Hi.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright, just follow my lead.”
We crashed on my bed, our bodies intertwining like ivy. Before I could even register what was happening, Ryan’s mouth dropped to my abdomen. His tongue met my navel briefly before trailing all the way up between my breasts.
“Oh my God,” I moaned, my back arching off the mattress. This may have been all for show, but there was nothing false about the way I responded to his touch. “Please don’t stop,” I called out loudly.
Why on God’s green earth did I think it was a good idea to take multiple shots of vodka before taking off my clothes with this man?
That same snarky part of my brain was all too eager to reply. ‘Cause you’re an idiot.
Reaching over me, Ryan pulled a small packet out of the pocket of his jeans. He ripped it open with his teeth just as the door flung open. Brooklyn stood in the doorway, her eyes instantly locking on Ryan and me. The entire scene—two lovers in a state of undress spread across a bed as a shocked bystander approached—was like something straight out of my art history textbook.
I’d never brought a single guy to our room all semester, so her shocked response at seeing a half-naked man straddling me was glorious.
“Oh . . . I, I didn’t realize—”
I didn’t even attempt to mask my glee at the wonderful shade of crimson covering Brooklyn’s skin.
“Do you mind giving us some privacy? We’re in the middle of something here,” Ryan announced with the most devious smirk I’d ever seen. “Unless, you’d rather stay and watch, that is.”
“No!” she squeaked. “I’ll just leave and come back later.”
“What do you think, babe?” Ryan asked, bending to kiss my neck. “Three or four hours enough time?”
Rubbing my hands down the length of his chest, I bit my lip as I stared up at him. “Whatever you want.”
“I fucking love it when you say that.” In the blink of an eye, Ryan flipped me over and spanked my ass. I yipped at the gesture, quickly breaking into a grin. The line between fact and fiction, reality and fantasy, was almost non-existent. And I loved every fucking second of it.
The realness of our charade worked in our favor.
“Oh, God! I’m so sorry!” Brooklyn cried, fumbling with her keys. I’d never seen her look so flustered, and I reveled in the sweet taste of revenge.
“Lock the door on your way out,” Ryan ordered with complete authority.
Well, hell. I always liked it when a guy knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it too.
He slid off the bed and reached for his jeans. The moment his hands left my flesh, I sighed. That felt too real, too incredible to be pretend.
But it was pretend, and my body needed to get in line with my brain.
“I think it’s safe to say she bought it,” Ryan stated, spinning to face me.
“Yep. Well played, sir.”
“Believe me, it was my pleasure, dear lady.”
I shimmied into my jean shorts, taking note of the way Ryan watched. “The spanking was a nice touch.”
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“Not at all,” I answered.
“Good. I’m going to remember that.”
“For what?”
He shrugged, the fire in his eyes unmistakable. “For the future . . . you know, just in case.”
My fist collided with the side of his arm. “You would.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Well, when you phrase it like that, I guess not.”
Picking up the unused condom, Ryan pulled a few more foil packets from his back pocket. “Got any lotion?”
“For what?” I questioned, staring at the unrolled condoms suspiciously.
“To plant evidence.”
“Huh?”
I handed off my vanilla-scented lotion and watched as he squirted a little in each condom. Then he added a few drops of water, mixing the solution together. “Looks pretty convincing, doesn’t it?”
“Holy crap. You’re like an evil genius.”
Grinning from ear to ear, he planted our “evidence” in various locations on the floor.
“There. Not only did she get kicked out of her room and get a taste of her own medicine, but she’ll have to do something with those too.”
“Hell yes!” I gave him a high five and finished tucking in my tank top. “Wren and I are keeping you.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“So, what should we do for the next three to four hours?” I asked, nudging him with my elbow.
“Liked that, did you?”
“Don’t get full of yourself.”
Leaning in until we were practically plastered to one another, he whispered, “Come on, you know I was good.”
Breathing in his cologne, I willed myself to speak. “Never said you weren’t.”
Ryan broke away and collapsed on my bed, his arms stretching behind his head. “So, you wanna watch a few movies and then grab some food?”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” I handed off the remote and positioned myself next to him. “You pick the flick this time.”
“Alright.” Ryan accepted the remote, his eyes glued to the television sitting on a dresser near my bed. “Can I see some of your artwork?”
“What?”
“You’re an artist, and really good too, from what I saw of the sketch you were working on the other day. I just want to see some of your drawings or paintings.”
“Oh . . .” My attention shifted to the sketchpads littering my side of the room. “I have a few projects I’ve worked on this semester, but nothing really stellar. I’ve sort of lacked the inspiration to create lately.”
“I can inspire you if you want.”
It was an innocent suggestion, but my skin flushed to match my panties anyway. “Huh?”
“Your drawing from class yesterday. I mean, those were my eyes, right?”
Damn. Wren hadn’t stopped me soon enough, it seemed. “They’re a very nice, complex shade of blue. What was I supposed to do?”
“I wasn’t exactly complaining, Ter.”
“Oh, so I’m Ter now?”
“Just a few minutes ago, I spanked your ass like you were a naughty schoolgirl. I think pet names are only appropriate.”
“Whatever you say, Ry.” Sighing heavily, I wondered what the heck I was supposed to do if Ryan kept calling me out on my shit. He knew I’d been drawing his eyes, and if I wasn’t careful, he’d find out that my hand had been set on rendering his entire face. “Here,” I said, snagging a sketch pad and placing it in his hands. “If you really want to see some of my art, I guess you can look at that.”
Ryan sat up, his fingers turning to the first page. “Wow.” He traced a couple lines of my sketch. “This is amazing.”
I chuckled slightly. “It’s just a flower.”
His gaze locked on to mine. “It’s beautiful.”
“You can have it if you want.”
“Really?”
I motioned around the room. “It’s not like I don’t have plenty of drawings. Besides, you can consider it payment for helping me get some revenge on Brooklyn.”
“You don’t owe me anything for that. I was happy to help.”
“Even still,” I replied, leaning over to tear the sketch out of the pad. As I removed the drawing, my shoulder brushed against his chest. Such a miniscule gesture shouldn’t have been capable of eliciting such a heavy response. His breath poured over my flesh, amplifying our close proximity. Every hair on my body seemed to stand on end, and it felt like I was hurtling right for the danger zone at a speed that would’ve made Kenny Loggins proud. “I want you to have it.”
“Thanks.”
“So . . . what did you want to eat?” I asked, steering our conversation to safer grounds. What the hell was I thinking? I’d known this guy for a single day and I was acting as if he’d gotten under my skin. I didn’t let anything with a penis dictate my happiness. It was the only way to live. Just look at everything Wren had been put through in the last month. Was I completely coldhearted? No. I believed in love, believed it was a gift to some and toxic to others. And I had no hesitations about which group I fit in to. Love and loss were mere breaths apart from one another. Caring for someone on that level was simply toxic to my well-being.
And it always would be.
“Ter?” Ryan’s voice sounded from far away. “Does that sound okay to you?”
“Huh?”
“I asked if you were okay with ordering a pizza.”
“Oh! That sounds fine.”
“Is everything okay?” he questioned, leaning toward me.
“Everything is perfect.”
My heart hammered inside my chest like a freaking woodpecker as he continued to study me. “Your face got a really serious look for a second.”
“I was just trying to decide what kind of pizza toppings I wanted.”
He wasn’t buying my reply for a second. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll still be here . . . trying to figure out what the hell you want on your pizza.”
Unable to help myself, I rolled my eyes. “Pepperoni and banana peppers.”
Ryan grinned and whipped out his phone. “I can make that happen.”
“RUN, RUN, RUN!” I shouted at the television.
“It’s too late.” Ryan snagged a slice of pizza from the box I held on my lap. “She’s done for.”
“Why is it that the women in these movies always go back to the house? I mean, logistically speaking, that is the last place you should go.”
“I suppose because without a helpless victim or two, the plot would really drag.”
I considered his comment for a moment before replying. “I never thought of that before.”
Ryan shoved the pizza in his mouth, practically consuming the entire slice in a single bite. “Think about Halloween for a second. If you take away all the killing, all you have is a whack job Peeping Tom lurking about in a discount mask.”
“Geez, that would be more boring than sitting through statistics class.”
“Statistics class is fun.”
“Yeah, for you and your math-oriented brain.”
“Okay, so what kinds of classes are fun to you?”
“I enjoyed my drawing class. They brought in live models and let us study the human form so we could properly sketch it.”
“That sounds awesome. How do I volunteer to be one of these models?”
“Huh?” I asked, panic shooting through my throat. I coughed and reached for the cup of soda sitting nearby.
“Come on. It will be fun. You can have your sketch pad and pencils, and I’ll sprawl out on a couch with the heart of the ocean hanging around my neck.”
As a southern woman, I was well versed on the topic of manners. But my grandmother would have shuddered in shame if she had witnessed the act of me spraying my drink all over Ryan.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry.” Setting down my cup and the pizza, I rushed to find a towel. “Fuck. I can’t believe I just spit all over you.”
“It’s fine, Ter.”
I dabbed Ryan’s face and chest with a towel, but his shirt was soaked. Jesus, I just had to spaz out and spew my drink all over him. Apparently, Ryan and my nerves mixed about as well as baking soda and vinegar.
Been there, done that. And let’s just say Mrs. Harper never let me do another science experiment in her class ever again. My so-called volcano erupted worse than Mt. Vesuvius. All right, so maybe I put a little extra stuff in there that the internet recipe didn’t call for, but I blame Sean for giving me some of his firecrackers. And Wren for encouraging me to use them.
“Let me grab my hair dryer really quick.”
“It’s just a shirt.” Ryan stood and pulled the garment in question over his head. “I’ll just hang it up for a bit and let it air-dry.”
Don’t look at his body. Don’t look at his body. I repeated the mantra in my head over and over again, but the second my eyelids parted, my attention fell to his abs. Personally, I blamed all the pheromones we woke up during our little charade. My body wasn’t quite on the uptake like my brain.
“Do you want to wear something of mine?” I inquired. “I have a few old sweatshirts that might fit you.”
“I don’t know if you’ve realized this about me or not, but I am a guy. It’s normal for us to go without shirts.”
“Well . . .”
“Also, I tend to run warm, so it’s not like I’m going to get cold or anything.”
“Such a smartass.” I huffed louder than I intended.
“Why?” he questioned with a grin. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“I’m perfectly comfortable.”
“Right.”
“Shut up.”
“Level with me for a second, Ter.” The feel of Ryan’s fingers against my arm almost made me jump out of my skin. “Do I make you nervous?”
“That’s ridiculous. Why would you make me nervous?”
“I mean, I understand why you were nervous before because of all that stuff with Brooklyn, but now, you seem just as nervous.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not nervous,” I countered, feigning confidence and flipping my hair for good
measure. I sent a silent prayer to the big man upstairs in the hope that Ryan would buy the front I was putting on.
“Come here.” When that damn finger of his curled forward, I all but snapped to attention.
“Absolutely not.”
My defiance only reaffirmed his determination. “I’ve got a theory I want to test.”
“Well, too bad.”
Ryan grinned at me in a way that informed me I was in serious trouble. The dorm was nothing more than a twenty-by-twenty-foot concrete block, so there wasn’t exactly a means of escape. “You’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Ry. I’m not making you do anything.” My words may have been as sweet as sugar, but my tone indicated pure venom.
My first instinct had me sprinting to my left and seeking shelter on top of Brooklyn’s bed. I would brave the inevitable DNA samples coating her mattress in order to escape the half-naked, p-word slinging hottie in front of me.
But Ryan could see right through my ploy. He followed suit, and before I knew it, both of those chiseled arms were wrapped around my waist.
“Ter, Ter, Ter,” he said with a heavy sigh. “You just had to make me work for this.”
“You can let go of me now.” I squirmed like a greased pig as I tried to free myself.
“You grinding against me like that isn’t helping your situation.”
My gasp was filled with as much shock as a pastor hearing someone drop an f-bomb in the middle of Sunday morning service. I didn’t know what I was expecting though. I’d set him up for the perfect response, and Ryan delivered.
“You are crude and nasty!”
“I thought we already established that yesterday,” he whispered in my ear.
“Ugh, do you always have to be so superior all the time? Really, Ry, it’s not becoming at all.” If I had expected his arms to loosen, I was sorely disappointed. Instead, Ryan’s arms squeezed tighter and pushed my boobs toward my chin. “Umm . . .” I began before losing my courage.
“What’s wrong?”
“If you squeeze me any tighter, I’m going to be able to use my tits as a pillow.”
Over my shoulder, I could sense Ryan’s gaze dropping. His attention slid over my skin like velvet. Warmth from his body seeped through my thin tank top, and just as I was beginning to get used to the embrace, he apologized and backed away. Like me, Ryan seemed to be impossible to embarrass. But much to my surprise, the apples of his cheeks flushed with a color equal to that of my panties.
Not Without You Page 5