Question was—did she want to let him back in?
Sighing, she crumpled the silly list she’d been constructing and tossed it on the hardwood floor beside the bed. This was stupid. She wasn’t going to give the list to Bryce. A list of fantasies wouldn’t erase the hurtful words he’d spoken two days ago, and it sure as heck wouldn’t help her figure out what she truly wanted from a relationship.
Rising from the bed, she headed into Christina’s small bathroom and got ready for bed. Brushed her teeth, exfoliated, combed her unruly brown waves, and then slid into bed and settled beneath the covers.
She planned on using this time off to really think about her life and the choices she’d made. Particularly her choice in men.
Did she really love Bryce? His break-up words had upset her, but was that because she was genuinely in love with him, or because the fairytale life her parents had outlined for her since she was a kid had now gone up in flames?
She rolled over, gritting her teeth. Don’t think about it now. Figure it out in the morning. For now…just sleep.
* * *
The upstairs apartment was dark when Ryan let himself in with the spare key Christina had given them. Christina might very well be the coolest chick he’d ever hooked up with. She’d just broken up with her boyfriend when Ryan first met her, and she was so completely comfortable with her sexuality it almost scared him. She hadn’t had any qualms about having a hot threesome with him and Matt the night after they’d met, and she’d teased that if one or both of them didn’t make use of the open invitation she’d extended, she’d be very pissed off.
He crept down the narrow hallway toward the bedroom. He’d texted her with the heads up that he was coming by, and although she hadn’t responded, that didn’t mean anything. Christina didn’t respond to half the messages he sent her.
His dick was already semi-hard as he approached the door. Fuck, this was exactly what he needed. A night of no-strings sex was guaranteed to make him forget about Jane’s announcement. A baby. God. Not that he’d ever really thought there’d be a chance for him and Jane, but this pregnancy pretty much snuffed out even the faintest spark of hope.
Ryan pulled his T-shirt over his head as he entered Christina’s bedroom. His jeans were next, dropping to the weathered hardwood next to his discarded shirt. He could make out Christina’s form in the shadows, curled up on her side under a puffy blue comforter.
He grinned in the darkness. These were his favorite kind of wake-up calls. Hers too.
He moved to the bed and lifted up the edge of the comforter, easing his way under the heavy cover and spooning Christina from behind. Lowering his head to her neck, he breathed in the appealing scent of…orange blossoms? She usually smelled like plain old Ivory soap, but Ryan wasn’t complaining. He liked this new scent. A lot.
“You smell delicious,” he rasped into her ear, one arm reaching around her waist to pull her closer.
She whimpered in her sleep, wiggling her ass against his now-throbbing erection. Wow. He was crazy turned on. Not that Christina didn’t usually turn him on, but this was…different. She felt soft and warm against him, and that scent drove him crazy. He suddenly couldn’t wait to be inside her.
“Open your eyes, baby,” he murmured.
She mumbled something in protest.
He grinned again. “Fine, keep ’em closed. But can you roll over for me?”
She shifted, and he helped her along by cupping her ass cheeks and moving her onto her back. He frowned as he ran his hands over that ass, which was much rounder and sweeter than he remembered. And come to think of it, her hair was longer too. Five days ago, when he’d last seen her, she’d had a short blonde bob. Now her hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves. And the tits beneath her thin tank top seemed bigger—
Clarity sliced through his mind at the same time the woman beneath him blinked her eyes open. A pair of brown—not blue—eyes stared up at him in shock.
Ryan shot up, surprise slamming into his chest. Fuck. Oh, fuck. This was not Christina.
“Oh my God,” came a high, terrified voice.
Nope, definitely not Christina.
He opened his mouth to apologize just as the curvy, curly-haired female bounded to the edge of the bed, shoved the comforter up to her neck, and said, “Please don’t hurt me!”
2
Ryan was off the bed so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. He didn’t get embarrassed easily, but the sight of the terrified woman on the bed brought a wave of mortification to his gut. Shit. He’d fondled a complete stranger. Where the hell was Christina?
He opened his mouth to explain, but the stranger he’d just felt up was suddenly on her feet too. The next thing he knew, she hurled the little lamp on the bed table at his head.
Ryan caught it effortlessly. “Hey, listen!” he shouted. “I’m not here to—”
But the woman wasn’t listening. Instead, she’d started babbling. “Seriously, you don’t want to do this. I have, like, eight different types of STDs, so your health is at risk and really, who wants to be at risk?” Words kept popping out like coins from a slot machine. “I’m actually doing you a favor here, dude. You should go find someone else to rape—wait, that’s not what I meant! Don’t find anyone else! You shouldn’t be doing this to any woman, ever, I’m not encouraging it at all, I’m just saying…” She trailed off, and that spark of fear returned to her face. She looked around wildly, as if scanning the room for another weapon.
Ryan stared at her for a moment, bewildered.
Then he burst out laughing.
A pair of chocolate-brown eyes glared at him. “Seriously? You’re laughing at me?” Her tone hardened, and one slender arm stuck out and fumbled for something on the nightstand. “I’m giving you five seconds to get the hell out of here, you…you predator!” She made a victorious sound as she found what she was looking for—a cell phone. “I’m calling the police, asshole!”
Ryan’s laughter died in his throat. No matter how entertaining he found this woman, he wasn’t in the mood to be dragged off to jail. “Hey now, wait,” he said immediately, setting the lamp she’d thrown at him down on the floor. Then he held up his hands in surrender. “This is just a misunderstanding, babe.”
“Babe? I am not your babe.” Her finger jammed on the phone screen. “Nor will I be your rape victim so—”
“I’m not here to rape you,” he cut in, running a frazzled hand through his hair. “Would you just shut up for a second so I can explain?”
Her eyes flashed, but her mouth promptly closed.
Ryan drew in a calming breath, collecting himself, all the while noticing just how freaking hot this woman was. Along with her vibrant brown eyes and amazing hair, she had delicate features that included a cute upturned nose, high cheekbones and sexy pink lips, the bottom one fuller and poutier than the top. Was she a friend of Christina’s? And if so, why had Christina never introduced them?
“You’re not explaining,” she said, shooting him a dirty look.
Ryan sighed. “Look, I came here to see Christina, okay? I thought you were her when I got into bed with you.”
“Christina?” she echoed.
“Yes. Christina. You know, the woman who lives here.” He frowned. “So who the hell are you and why are you in her bed?”
“Nuh-uh. Who the hell are you and what are you doing in her bed?” she shot back.
Frustration crept up his spine. “Are you always this fucking difficult?”
“Are you?”
Ryan released another breath. He suddenly felt extremely awkward standing there in his blue-and-white-checkered boxers, but he made no move to pick up his clothes. He was scared to turn away from this woman. Who knew what she’d do if he took his eyes off of her.
“Okay. Let’s calm down,” he said quietly. “I’m Ryan, all right? I live downstairs. What about you?”
“I’m Annabelle,” she answered reluctantly. “Christina’s letting me stay here for a few weeks.”<
br />
He rolled his eyes. “See how easy that was? So where exactly did Christina go?”
“Vegas. She eloped with her boyfriend Joe.”
Surprise jolted through him. “She told me they broke up.”
“They did.” Annabelle shrugged. “But then he sent her a bunch of flowers and a super sweet card begging her to take him back, so she did, and then he proposed, so she said yes, and now they’re in Vegas. Anything else you want to know?”
The disappointment he experienced at the news that Christina was back with her boyfriend was almost nonexistent. That was the nice thing about flings. You didn’t get attached, didn’t feel crushed when the other person left. If anything, he was happy for Christina. She’d admitted that she still loved her ex, but the guy had been too much of a selfish jerk to appreciate the good thing they had. Evidently the jerk smartened up.
Still holding the phone in her hand, Annabelle took a couple of steps toward him, her bare feet slapping the hardwood floor. Her pink tank top did nothing to contain the soft jiggling of her tits. And those little boxer shorts she wore hugged her firm thighs, revealing smooth, shapely legs and tiny feet with red painted toenails.
Despite himself, Ryan’s cock twitched inside his boxers. He was ridiculously turned on, and in his state of undress, he couldn’t really hide it either. His dick poked against the front of his boxers, providing a tent that could accommodate an entire campsite.
Annabelle’s brown eyes widened slightly as her gaze dropped south. “Seriously?” she blurted out. “Can’t you keep that thing under control?”
Another laugh bubbled out of his throat. “You should take it as a compliment.”
Her cheeks turned bright red. “Look, as fun as this is,” she said, sarcasm ringing in her voice, “could you please leave? I was trying to sleep before you burst in here like you own the place.” Her eyes narrowed. “Were you involved with Christina?”
“Kind of. Nothing serious, though.” He offered a dry smile. “Actually, not serious at all, considering she eloped to Vegas with another man.”
“You don’t look too beat up about it.”
Ryan shrugged. “I’m not. Like I said, it wasn’t serious.”
“Good. Great. Now that we’ve cleared that up, could you please go?”
She was making a very good point. He should go. Now that his plans for a night of wild sex had shot up in smoke, he had no reason to stick around and chat with Christina’s weird houseguest. On the other hand, Annabelle was super hot, and he was super horny, so…
As if reading his mind, Annabelle held up the phone and said, “Don’t even think about it, pal. Touch me and I’ll call nine-one-one.”
He grinned. “Come on, you know you’re tempted.”
Her cheeks grew redder. “Tempted to do what?”
“To get back in bed. With me.” He cocked one brow. “And I can assure you, we’d have a really good time…”
She stared at him for a moment. Then she let out a laugh. “Oh God. Do women actually fall for that stuff?”
He frowned. “Yes.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t.” She rested one hand on a curvy hip and nodded at the pile of clothes next to the bed. “Okay, time for you to go, Robert.”
“Ryan.”
“Whatever.”
He found himself grinning again. Damn, he liked her. It was rare to come across a woman who was immune to his charm, and even rarer to find one who managed to keep his interest for more than five minutes. He had no idea where Annabelle had come from or how long she planned on staying in the building, but he hoped she stuck around for a while. Or at least long enough for him to get his hands on those delectable curves again.
“Why are you still here?” she grumbled. “I’d like to get some sleep sometime this century.”
His lips twitched. He wondered if she brought that sexy sarcasm to bed with her. “I’ll get right out of your way,” he said graciously.
He strode to the side of the bed, making sure his bare arm rubbed against her bare arm as he walked by. He heard a soft intake of breath, but when he glanced over, she just looked annoyed.
Bending down, he collected his jeans and T-shirt from the floor and tucked the pile of clothes under his arm. Somehow he doubted she would grant him the time to get dressed.
“Do you have a key or did you break in?” she asked sternly.
“Spare key. I left it in the living room.” Impulsively, he cast a devilish grin. “What do you say I keep the key and come by tomorrow night?”
Annabelle laughed.
He pursed his lips. “Was that a yes?”
Another laugh, this time with the words, “Hell, no” mingled in there.
“Your loss,” he said with a sigh.
Those liquid brown eyes glimmered with amusement. “Yeah, I’m sure it is.”
He found it difficult to walk to the door, particularly since his cock was still rock-hard and refusing to go down. But monster erection aside, he found it difficult to walk away from her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun with a woman who wasn’t Jane. Unfortunately, the fun was one-sided. Annabelle was now tapping her foot all sexy-like, eager to see him go.
She trailed after him down the dark hallway toward the front door. “G’night now, it was awesome meeting you.”
“Sweet. It was nice meeting you too.”
“Uh, no. I was being fake nice.” She huffed. “Honestly, Roger—”
“Ryan—”
“—I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m exhausted. I want to go to bed—” She raised a hand before he could open his mouth. “Alone. I want to go to bed alone, and fall asleep alone, and wake up in the morning, alone. Okay?”
“Like I said, your loss.”
The corners of her pouty mouth lifted, just a little. Oh yeah. She liked him. He could always tell when a girl liked him, and this one, no matter how grumpy and off-putting she was trying to be, totally liked him.
“How long are you staying here?” he asked, pausing in the doorway before she could boot him out.
She eyed him suspiciously. “Why do you want to know? Are you planning on sliding into bed with me tomorrow night?”
“Will you be here tomorrow night?” he countered.
Annabelle hesitated. “Yes. I’m here for three weeks.”
Ryan gave himself a mental high-five. Oh yeah. Three weeks. He could definitely work his magic on her in three weeks. Hell, he’d probably only need three days, maybe less, to win over this chick. Why he wanted to win her over so badly eluded him, but who cared why? As long as it distracted him from the fact that Jane was having a baby with Becker, he was cool.
“Well, I look forward to seeing you again, then,” Ryan said, letting his gaze sweep from her face down to her cleavage and then back up.
She rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to see each other again. I plan to diligently avoid you.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Good night, Rick.”
“Ryan.”
With a sweet smile, she gave his butt a little shove and pushed him out the door. “Good night,” she said again, and then the door closed in his face.
Ryan’s mouth stretched out in a grin as he listened to the sound of the lock clicking into place. “’Night, Annabelle,” he called.
Still holding onto his clothes, he climbed down the stairs to his own apartment. Matt had left hours ago, and the apartment was dark and quiet as he locked up and headed for his bedroom. He was too keyed up to sleep—meeting Annabelle had been way too much fun, and his erection refused to subside.
Sighing, he dropped his clothes on the chair near the bed. As he was debating whether to jerk off or watch TV, a flash of yellow caught his eye. Furrowing his eyebrows, he stepped toward the chair and picked up his jeans, then watched as a piece of yellow legal paper fluttered to the hardwood floor.
He bent to pick it up. Feminine handwriting was scrawled across the page. Unable to fight his curiosity, he smoothed o
ut the sheet and read the first line.
His jaw promptly fell open. It wasn’t only the intriguing heading that caught his attention—I’m Up For This. Are You?—but the dirty little items that followed. He read each one. Twice.
Ryan broke out in a slow smile. Well…damn.
Hot fucking damn.
* * *
No matter how hard she tried, Annabelle couldn’t get her late-night visitor out of her mind.
She spent the morning answering emails and trying to not think about Ryan, but every five seconds, the memory of his gorgeous face and drool-worthy body floated into her mind like a piece of driftwood. Hands down, he was the hottest guy she’d ever met. When she’d woken up to find those playful blue eyes on her and that lean, muscular body pressed against her, she’d thought she was dreaming.
During their entire exchange, she’d been fighting little sparks of desire. Her breasts had felt so heavy and tingly she’d had to cross her arms over her chest. If he’d stayed for even five more minutes, she probably would’ve jumped him.
So why did you throw him out?
Uh, Bryce? she reminded the voice in her head.
You mean the guy who dumped you?
She ignored the taunting reply and headed for the bathroom to get a towel. Fine, so maybe she didn’t owe anything to her as-of-two-days-ago ex, but she wasn’t the type of girl to hop into bed with a stranger. She was Annabelle Holmes. Her parents had raised her to be a perfect lady, and ladies didn’t have sex with random men, no matter how appealing they might be.
She found a towel and slung it over her shoulder, then left the apartment and walked downstairs. The courtyard was empty when she stepped outside, and the pool looked so inviting she had her shorts and tank off before she even reached the deck. Tilting her head, she let the sun’s rays heat her face. Beads of sweat formed between her breasts, but she welcomed the heat. She was happy to finally get a chance to wear this teeny yellow string bikini. It never got this hot in San Francisco, and the change of scenery was refreshing.
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 30