Dark cherry wood cabinets and black granite countertops filled his kitchen, begging to be touched. I couldn’t resist running my hands over them. They slid along the polished surfaces without catching on a rough edge. A Viking six-burner gas range with a large copper hood was centered in the long counter and an island workstation stood in the middle of the room. Its surface matched the countertops in the rest of the kitchen and it had a sink, a cutting board and outlets for small appliances. Four stools were tucked under its granite lip. I imagined us sitting there someday, eating breakfast and having coffee. With such a beautiful gourmet kitchen at his disposal, I wondered if he cooked.
Opening the door to his refrigerator, I was curious to explore. It wasn’t stocked with much, only basic items like milk, water, cheese, eggs, and some fruit.
“Do I pass your inspection?” Ryan came up behind me.
“Oh, damn!” I jumped. “You scared me. How long have you been standing there?”
“Oh, Nicky,” he sighed. “Long enough to take you in completely. Watching you go through my apartment . . . I have a vision of you in bare feet wearing a robe with nothing on underneath.”
I feel like I could sink right into his body and disappear.
“I wasn’t expecting." I cleared my throat, keeping my back to him so I wouldn't have to look in his eyes. "Inspecting. I was looking over the design of your place. I like the color scheme. Your furniture and all the matching accessories are nice. Everything is so shiny and clean. I love the feel of the granite. I’ve never seen a place so coordinated. Did you hire an interior designer or . . .” Keep talking fast; change that look you know is on his face. “Do you cook a lot? It doesn’t seem like you have much in your refrigerator, but on the other hand you have a gourmet kitchen . . .” I took a bottle of water. “Here’s what I was looking for. May I have this? I’ll pay you back.”
“Yes, please help yourself," Ryan's laugh was muffled as if trying not to laugh at my nervousness. “As long as you pay me back. I’ll need that money tomorrow morning. Or . . . we can work out a trade tonight.”
Sure easy for you to laugh. I’m a mess.
“I will.” I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “I mean, okay, I’ll get it to you tomorrow.”
“Slow down. You don’t have to protect yourself every second.” He put his hands on my shoulders. I let him rock me back and forth very gently.
God, his hands are big.
His voice sounded different. It was relaxed and comfortable. Now that he was safely surrounded by the comfort of his home, I wondered if a layer of protection had fallen from his body.
“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to stop doing it.” I closed the refrigerator door and had no choice but to turn and look at him.
He wore a pair of gray, drawstring sweatpants. They were tied low on his hips and paired with a white, form fitting T-shirt. It stretched across his chest, hugging his biceps and torso. The man standing in front of me became hard-stamped in my brain. He was a vision I knew I’d remember forever.
As I looked into the cool blue of his eyes I was sure I heard them invite me in for a swim in his carnal waters. A basic and primal part of me answered their call.
I woke up standing right in front of him.
“Wow, Ryan.” I commented out loud.
“What?” His sly grin might as well have translated to, "I know I take your breath away."
You know exactly what I mean. I’m a gooey mess and there’s nothing I can do about it. All I can feel is the aching—God, that feeling again . . . I want . . . I need to have fingers relieve me—Ryan’s fingers.
“Nothing, I’m just . . . oh, man.” I stammered like a fool. The sight of him was beautiful.
“Here you go.” He held on to the clothes he'd brought for me from his bedroom. When I reached for them he wouldn’t let go, as if encouraging me to play tug-of-war.
I struggled to pull them away.
My arms felt heavy and I was weak from his sexy looks and hooded eyes.
Turning away, I grabbed as hard as I could.
He finally let go.
I didn’t notice what kind of clothes he brought for me and I didn’t care. I needed only to catch my breath and get away from his simmering energy.
“Did you took, um, take these pitters? I mean, take pitters?" I stammered. "Damn it—photos is what I’m trying to say. Are you the one who took them?”
Come on. Speak up Nicky. Open your mouth and pronounce the words. My head, my face—everything feels red-hot.
“Yes, I took them.” He nodded toward the photos. “Does that surprise you?”
“No. I’ve seen your soulful side. I thought it might be a friend or whoever did the artwork in here. I was thinking maybe it was Chris, since he’s an artist type with his music. They’re beautiful. Congratulations, you have a great eye.”
He stepped in close.
“Whelp, I’m going to shower and change.” I tried to avoid his face, eyes, and lips. “I’ll be right back.” I started to leave the kitchen but didn’t get far. “Um, where’s the bathroom?”
Jeez, I must look like a complete idiot.
“Let me show you.” His voice was smooth and slippery. “It’s straight ahead and to the left. Follow me.”
“Where are we going?” I had to look at him to see where I was supposed to follow.
“Through my bedroom.” He held his arm straight. His long finger pointed the way.
It felt like a drizzle of hot rain had slipped down from my belly. Nerves that were hidden inside me, nerves that previously lay dormant now hummed with an electric current. My legs hid the throbbing between them.
“I’m not going in there." I battled my smile. "The guest bathroom is fine.” I didn’t want him to know how I enjoyed his teases. “Where is it?”
“Through the door to the left of the kitchen pantry." His sweet, seductive laugh was hypnotic. I dreaded him knowing that when he used it, I could easily give into whatever he wanted.
Locking the door behind me, I turned on the shower, undressed, and stepped into the warm water. After I dried my hair, I put on Ryan’s clothes—a man’s large-sized, yellow T-shirt, and a pair of black, drawstring shorts. I leaned on the bathroom counter, taking one deep breath after another, trying to calm myself.
As I studied my reflection, I wondered: which woman would look back at me in the morning? One who was strong, in control and still a virgin? Or would it be my Evil Twin—the woman who had recently come to life and encouraged me to give in to the sensual world waiting for my discovery?
And what about you, Nick? What is it you want? Aren’t you finally done with old beliefs that will condemn you to hell if you’re not married when you have sex? Can't you trust this man in front of you, who's promised to help your family, revealed his secrets, and stayed because you asked?
Filling up with one more deep breath, I pursed my lips to slowly let out the air. When I felt brave enough, I opened the door and turned off the light.
Ryan was sitting in the middle of the sofa. He watched me as I sat down.
I scooted as far away from him as I could.
“Thanks for the clothes." I tightened the drawstring on the shorts. “It feels so good to get out of those sweats. They were all wet and sandy.”
“Well, sand does get into warm, moist places. Damn, you look good in anything.” He looked me up and down. “Is my T-shirt too tight on you?”
“Kind of. I'm embarrassed to tell you, it's just . . . this is a large and can you even fit in a large? I would think you're XXL or at least XL, aren't you? Anyway, it's um . . . I think it shrunk, Ryan. You should probably toss it. I don't see how you'd fit in it any longer. Anyway, thanks. Why do you ask if it’s too tight?”
“It looks like your . . . um . . . it stretches across your . . . uh . . . your . . .” His eyes drifted to my breasts and then back to my face. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”
Oh damn! He gave me the shirt on purpose. I can’t answer. I wish he’d
keep some things to himself.
“I’ve got this bottle of water, but if you’re going to make something, I could eat. And tea would be good, too.”
Watching his body move as he poured water into the teapot, put it on to boil and then reach into his kitchen cabinet, was a fantastic show. The way his arms and thighs bulged and then relaxed—I felt like he was a bakery of treats—buns, cakes, and sweet rolls ready to taste. Standing at his kitchen sink, his shoulders and arms flexed as he sliced some cheese and fruit. He plated the food and walked over to the sofa.
I felt hypnotized.
“That looks delicious.” I closed my eyes. Little by little I knew he’d suck every bit of me into his world.
“Mm-hmm.” He sat next to me. “Certainly does look delicious.”
It was easy to see how Ryan enjoyed his dominance and experience with seduction. He had an ability to knock me sideways and seemed to delight in every moment.
“Where did you take these?” I put a piece of cheese and fruit on a napkin and walked over to the entertainment center before he could settle in beside me.
Phew! It’s hot in here.
“They’re from all over.” He took several strides toward me and then stood behind me. His head rested on my shoulder. The evening scruff on his face rubbed against my cheek. All those luscious muscles in his hairy arms wrapped around my waist.
My hands rested on top of them.
It was as if a big bear hugged me.
I could feel the light vibrations of his voice with each spoken word. They were so thick with desire it was as if my shoulder resonated with warm ripples. Every note that kissed my cheek was smooth, even, and relaxed. My resistance—and perhaps the first layers of my defense—peeled away.
“The one with the twin girls was in Atlanta.” He took my arm up with his and brushed against my right breast as he pointed to the photo. “See how sweet they are sharing their cotton candy?" His hips moved a little. “The pink in the spun sugar matches the color in their cheeks. They were so happy. They didn’t fight or bicker, they were just giddy to have their treat.” He slowly turned his head. I could feel his breath fall like a snowflake on my face. His mouth was open, lightly touching one ear and then the other. “Can you see the color? See what I’m trying to capture?”
Yes, I understand completely what you’re trying to capture.
“Uh-huh.” I forced a whimper with the little strength I had left.
My throat felt dry.
It was difficult to catch my breath.
His chest pressed into my back.
I thought I might need CPR just to get through the next few minutes.
Ryan constantly moved and shifted.
Hands, arms, hips, and legs all seemed as if they were trying to feel my body in subtle and not so subtle ways. His right arm stretched across my breasts and his left hand moved to my navel. It flattened against my rounded belly, slowly rubbing it in circles.
“Oh baby . . . God, you’re . . .” He let out a moan.
Sometimes it was all I could do just to look at him when he talked. But when that voice of his deepened and he groaned?
My body squirmed as if my sensual core was trying to come out.
My natural reaction to his hand on my stomach was to step backward into his hips. When I did, I pushed against his erection.
A breathy sigh escaped his lips.
My bottom felt his hips move.
I closed my eyes as I listened to the sounds of his lust and tuned into the language from his body. Like a lasso of invisible magnets, he pulled me in. His grip tightened. I was helpless, caught in his masterful seduction. He held me firmly against his chest and stomach. Although I couldn’t see behind me, his masculine body was obvious—hard and plain against my back.
Chapter 28
A Child’s Innocence
“The picture of the little boy and his rabbit was taken in Colorado." Although he was describing his photo, Ryan's brooding sensuality moved all over me. "We were playing in Denver. I drove to the country to relax and there he was on the roadside at the end of a long driveway with his box of rabbits. I’ll never forget when he started talking. He broke into a big grin. Both his front teeth were missing. Do you see how wide and beautiful his smile is?”
That’s because you hypnotized him just like the rest of us.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Do you think I captured the essence of the moment?” he whispered.
I wonder if I have high blood pressure.
“Nicky?”
“Hmm?”
“What do you think of the photo?” he asked softly. “Do you like children?”
Once again, he turned his head so that his cheek lay against mine. Instead of whispering in my ear, he kissed it. His lips moved purposefully and with a light touch.
I wonder if skin has ever melted off of anyone's body. I could slip into the grooves of his hardwood floor and no one would ever know what happened to me.
“Yeah,” I swallowed.
I can’t talk right now, so don’t ask me any more questions.
I could feel his feathery eyelashes tickling me, delicate as a spider’s web. His cheek, studded with evening whiskers, snuggled against mine. When his head moved, I was sure his mouth was searching for my lips. I turned to receive his kiss. It was simple, yet profoundly intimate; far more complicated than any discussion we’d had so far.
Could he sense my heart was opening?
Is this what being vulnerable feels like?
“Nicky?” he whispered.
“Yeah.”
“What do you think about them?” His throat was against my neck. The vibration of his voice made me feel like I was at the start of the Indy 500; engines roaring through me, ready to take off, pedal to the metal, open and ready to go full throttle.
“I think”— I took a deep breath, tried to expand my chest and say something that made sense—“all your photos, they show . . . well they show that you have a soft spot; like your soft belly. I really like it, you know.”
When Ryan laughed, I laughed, too.
My comment finally carved our bodies from the thick, sexually charged air. It seemed to be glowing.
“The tea and fruit sure sound good.” I patted his hand. It rested on my stomach. "I'm ready for more." I wanted to move before I caved into my desires. Yet, I wanted to stay right there with him.
Ryan held my body against his, perhaps savoring how it felt to have me tucked into his maleness. When I turned to walk back to the sofa, his hand dragged across my tummy. I felt so off balance I thought I might fall. Somehow, I managed to sit down.
He went into the kitchen to get the mugs of tea.
“Here you go.” He placed each on a coaster that protected the polished glass table and pushed the plate of fruit and cheese toward me. “You still hungry?”
“Yeah, from all that riding on the sand. The ocean just . . . well, we already talked about that. Something in the air, I guess. I mean, dinner though—it was delicious! Just because I'm hungry, it doesn't mean that it wasn’t filling, it was awesome. It’s just time for little something. Do you sleep better when you’ve had a little snack before bedtime? The time really flew by, don’t you think?”
“Mm-hmm,” he agreed. “I counted down the minutes until we could be alone together. Aren’t you glad it’s just you and me now?”
I nodded and then nibbled on a piece of melon.
“I love being alone with you, Nicky. It lets me see more of who you are. You had fun at Pismo?”
“Oh, yeah, so much fun. It was like we were kids. I haven't felt that carefree in a long time. You have no idea the gift you gave me today. To play and have fun was . . . thank you."
"I'm glad. Hey, what did the bandleader say to you last night? I never did get around to asking you.” He had one eyebrow raised. “He seemed uh . . . friendly."
“Auditioning for a backup singer,” I shared. “He gave me his manager’s card, but I told him there was no way I could do
it with college on the horizon. Plus, he needs someone who's at least twenty-one.”
“I thought I was the one you accused of spilling gold dust on people,” he teased.
“He must be desperate,” I giggled. “In fact he told me he was.”
“Uh-huh,” he kidded. “Desperate for what?”
I shrugged my shoulders and quickly stuffed six crackers, a piece of cheese and three pieces of pineapple into my mouth, and washed it down with several gulps of the tea I followed with two more pieces of cheese and two crackers.
“Easy there,” he directed. “I don’t want you to get sick. Not tonight.”
“I know." My mouth was full and I let out an awkward laugh. "I won’t.” I chewed some more. Laughed again. I finally swallowed. “I’m a noisy eater. I chomp instead of chew. You have to help me with snacking, okay? I love snacks, but I realize now they were substitutes for love. Old habits, you know . . .” I tried to break the moments that were flying by me at lightning speed into small, manageable bits. “The photo of the two children with the man and woman—is that you and your family?”
“Yes.”
“It must be hard being so far away,” I supposed. “Living on the opposite coast and all."
"It is." He fiddled with a few pieces of cheese and wrapped them around a piece of melon. “Although sometimes I’m glad to have the space between us. Probably keeps Chris and I from killing each other.”
“So . . . here we are." I shifted nervously.
"Here we are," he chuckled. "Something on your mind?"
"Well, you were insistent I come here and I was just wondering what it was you wanted to tell me. You need to talk about something serious? That was my impression."
“Oh, I'm very serious." He scooted closer. "I need to spend an entire evening with you.”
Oh God. I wonder if I’ll really go to hell. That’s got to be bullshit, right, Evil Twin? Is that why you came to life inside me?
“For one night I want—actually I need—to have you to myself. I’m leaving tomorrow. Already I miss you,” he said sweetly. “Do you miss me when I’m on the road?”
Jagged Heart (Broken Bottles Series Book 3) Page 19