Breaking Ryann

by Alyssa Rae Taylor

  Wringing out my hair, I move toward him, watching droplets of water drip from his long, thick lashes, down his face, and onto his lips. His golden eyes blaze down on me with a spark of curiosity in their depths. I stand on the tips of my toes, lightly brushing my breasts against his chest on the way up. My nipples harden from the contact.

  “You’re gonna pay for that,” I tell him. My voice is husky.

  His eyes are instantly hooded. He angles his head closer, but doesn’t dare close the space between us. I lift my chin, so our mouths are just a breath away from each other. He smirks, reading my face, knowing I’m playing his game. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, but neither of us move an inch, and he says, “Looking forward to it.”

  Trying on her fifth pair of sunglasses, Gia turns to me. “What do you think?” She poses the same way she’d done with all the others. They’re black with large, square lenses. The sides have a studded, quilted pattern, and the shape is flattering on her face.

  “So far, those are my favorite.”

  “I think so too.” She checks out her profile. “Should I get them or keep looking?” Her stomach growls so loudly her eyes slide toward the young salesman—probably checking to see if he’d heard, which, based on his smirk, he most definitely did. “You know what, I’ll take these,” she tells him, turning to me. “I’m starving. You ready to eat?”

  Thank God! Although Luke had ordered me breakfast, I’d barely eaten. My stomach had been in knots, so I’d barely had an appetite. “At this point I could eat anything.”

  “You should’ve told me.”

  “I didn’t realize it’d take you this long.”

  “Can you tell us where we might be able to find some good greasy food, preferably inside the mall?” she asks the salesman after she finishes paying for the new glasses.

  He points us in the opposite direction from which we came. “There’s a sports bar a few stores down from here. My friends and I eat there all the time. Plenty of greasy food for you to pick from.”

  “Perfect, thanks!”

  As we make our way toward the restaurant, Gia inhales. “Do you smell that?” We give each other a look, then hurry to the hostess station, relieved when we’re seated without having to wait.

  We order our food, along with a couple Diet Cokes, both steering away from alcohol, needing a bit of a break.

  “You think the boys are gambling?” I ask Gia.

  “Definitely. Logan seemed pretty drunk when we left the pool. I hope he isn’t stupid with his money.”

  “I’ve only seen Luke that way once.”

  “What, drunk?”

  I nod.

  “It’s sort of comical. Those two.”

  I agree. “They’re so different, yet so much alike.”

  Our waitress comes out with our Philly on two separate plates, setting them down in front of us. “Here you go. Can I get you anything else?”

  We shake our heads, declining, wasting no time scarfing it down. Minutes later, when there’s barely anything left, Gia pops a fry into her mouth, leaning back in her chair. “So … now that we’ve got food off the brain, I want to hear about you and Luke.”

  I take a sip of my drink and blow out a long breath. Geesh, where do I start? “You have no idea. So much has changed in the last few days. I could go on and on.”

  “So, tell me already!”

  “I was wrong about him. Wrong about everything.”

  She pushes her glass to the edge of the table, signaling our waitress for another refill. “Go on.”

  I run her through the details of all that Luke had confessed to me. She doesn’t seem as surprised as I’d expected. There are parts where I talk about my father, and we both cry. Our server walks by and drops off a stack of napkins, probably noticing our tears.

  “I need to say something, but when I do, please don’t hate me. I feel terrible for this.” She sniffs.

  The look on her face makes me nervous. “What is it?”

  Her lip trembles. “I knew about Luke. I wanted to tell you, but he begged me to give him time to do it on his own. I hated keeping it from you. I swear. There were so many times I almost told you.”

  I don’t even know what to say. I’m … I’m just shocked. “How long have you known?”

  “About a week.” She blows her nose, then uses another napkin to dab her eyes again. Judging by the remorse she’s showing, you’d think she’d been hiding it for months. “It was right before we met up at Heartlands that night. Logan and I had been fighting. He’d gone over to Luke’s place to vent—telling him that you and I had this crazy idea, that he’d gone off and gotten married.” She chokes out a laugh, and I can’t help but laugh with her. Yeah … we were way off on that one. “Anyway, Luke wanted to talk to me and set the record straight. That’s when he told me everything.”

  “That’s why Logan invited him to dinner.” I gasp at the realization. It all makes sense.

  She nods sadly. “Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

  “Of course … I mean, sure I’m a little mad that you kept it from me, but I’ll forgive you,” I say reassuringly. “I know how convincing Luke can be. Besides, you’d only known for a week. I think if he’d waited much longer, you wouldn’t have been able to keep it in.”

  “I wouldn’t have. And I feel terrible for judging him so harshly. He was only trying to protect you.”

  “Trying to protect all of us,” I add, and she gives me a confused look.

  “What do you mean all of us?”

  Leaning forward, I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Luke said that Glenn had threatened the people he loved. That’s why he’d gotten involved in this whole thing.”

  “No. That’s not what I heard. I was told that it was your life that was being threatened. Not anybody else’s. That’s the reason he called your father.” She puts her tongue in her cheek.

  Could she be right? Was it all just for me? It would explain why my father was so eager to help. My eyes lift to hers. “He’s still protecting me. Isn’t he? He doesn’t want me feeling responsible … for what happened to my father. ”

  “But you don’t, right?” She looks worried. “You know it’s not your fault, Reese.”

  “I know … I just … what else did he tell you? What did he say about the night it all ended—the night of the shootout? Maybe there’s more he hasn’t told me. I … I need to know.”

  She fidgets in her chair. “Okay, um … well, most importantly … he’d said that Glenn is the one who shot Andrew, which you know already.”

  I nod, remembering how hard it was for him to tell me. I’d never blame him for the sins of his father. They’re nothing alike—not even close. “What else?”

  “Umm, he’d said he tried to save him, but was too late. The last thing he remembers is pulling the trigger, but then someone shot him and everything faded to black.”

  “Wait, pulled the trigger? Who pulled the trigger?”

  “He didn’t tell you?” Her eyes are sorrowful.

  “He never said anything about pulling a trigger. Who pulled the trigger?”

  “Luke did.” She sniffs. “He killed his father, trying to save yours. Shot him in the head. He died instantly.”

  Hot tears roll down my face. I grab a napkin, wiping them away, but they keep on coming. Luke did this for me—risked his life for me. How could I have been so blind? And look how I’ve repaid him.

  “Oh my God! I have to go to him.” I dig through my purse, and finally toss my debit card on the table, staring Gia in the eyes. “How will he ever be able to forgive me? I’ve completely betrayed him—after everything!” I picture the look in his eyes last night when he thought I was still talking to Sean.

  She shakes her head. “Part of this is my fault.”

  “How?”

  “I should’ve trusted your instincts, instead of pushing you to be with Sean.”

  “I made that choice on my own Gia. I should’ve trusted my instincts. Luke’s been nothing but good to
me, since the day I met him. Saved me repeatedly! I have to find him.”

  “Take your card. I don’t need it.”

  “I’ll get it back from you at the hotel,” I reply over my shoulder, getting the attention of the other customers.

  “I love you! Go get him and good luck!”

  Yeah, I’m gonna need it.

  My sole mission is getting him alone, where I can talk to him and tell him how I feel. I don’t care about my pride anymore. No man has ever done something so selfless because of his love for me. He could’ve left for Brazil and trained to fight. He could’ve stayed in Phoenix and taken his chances. Instead, he put his life on hold in order to protect me, just like he’d done when I was a little girl. I swallow the lump in my throat, then press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, keeping the tears at bay. How will he ever be able to forgive me? My relationship with Sean had been rubbed in his face, and the jealousy he’d shown last night was warranted. He has every right to be angry, after going through hell and back for me, only to come home and find me with someone else. I can’t imagine what that has been like for him.

  The elevator opens and people start to shuffle out. I do a double take, finding Luke and Logan filling the small space in the very back—both grinning lazily when they see me. My heart swells at the way Luke’s face lights up.

  “Stay there,” I tell him directly.

  Judging by their bloodshot, watery eyes they continued their drinking after the pool.

  “Looks like you’re wanted,” Logan grumbles.

  Luke’s dimples make an appearance. “Just got your text,” he says, looking like the most adorable, yet sexiest man I’ve ever seen. And to think, he loves me. Something comes over me in that moment. I lose all control and jump into his arms, slamming our mouths together. He kisses me back—warm and sweet—and a groan escapes him. He tastes like alcohol and mint and everything that I’ve missed. My hands are all over him, before a snicker behind me interrupts us.

  Releasing his lips, I try to catch my breath, throwing a dirty look over my shoulder. “Get out of here, Logan!”

  “Wait. Where the hell’s my woman?”

  “On her way. She’s fine.”

  “Why aren’t you two together?” He frowns.

  It’s a logical question, but if I had to explain, it’d probably take me all day. “Look, I really need to talk to Luke. Can you give us some privacy, please? She’ll be here any minute. I promise.”

  “Looks like talking isn’t the only thing you need from him,” he snorts, glancing at Luke, who tips his head toward the lobby, gesturing for him to go. “All right, all right. I’m out!” He steps out of the elevator. “Only because I owe you one.” He points to Luke.

  Luke presses our floor number, and I give him some room as the door slides closed. He eyes me curiously, then rubs the back of his neck. “You drunk?”

  “I stopped drinking hours ago.”

  He tilts his head. “You gonna tell me why you kissed me?”

  “Gia told me everything.”

  His brows bunch together.

  “I know why you left. I know what happened with your father—why you were shot. Why did you keep that from me?”

  His eyes roam over my face, and it takes a few seconds for him to answer. “Because, I know you. You’d blame yourself.”

  “You can’t protect me from everything! You could’ve been killed; I don’t deserve you putting your life on the line for me. The way I’ve treated you … since you’ve been back—the things you’ve had to see—I’m sorry!” I frame his face with my hands. “God, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, desperate to take his pain away. Standing on my toes, I bring our faces closer together, and our noses slightly brush. I can feel him holding back. “Luke please, I need you.” It comes out as a cry, then he finally claims my mouth.

  I drape my arms around his neck, fisting his hair. He kisses me with passion, leaving no part of my mouth untouched. Picking me up, he wraps my legs around him, and his erection presses against my panties. We moan in unison, and I throw my head back. He traces his tongue along my jawline, down my neck. My fingers have a mind of their own, bringing his shirt up and over his head. I run my hands over the bulging muscles of his tattooed arms, shoulders, and chest, then he devours my mouth again, changing angles, while our tongues twirl together. I hear the elevator ding in the background, and the door slides open.

  He stiffens, pulling away, and I slide down his body. He looks as if a bucket of cold water has been poured over him.

  “I guess we’ve reached our floor,” I say awkwardly. He nods without replying. Turning, I stride out of the elevator, down the hall, with him following me. I stop in front of my room, grabbing the key card, feeling his breath hot on my neck.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” his voice is gravelly. “My head is messed up. I’ve had a lot to drink.”

  The door unlatches, and I glance over my shoulder, forgetting I’d taken off his shirt in the heat of passion. “Please, I want you to stay,” I say to his bare chest. He follows me inside, shutting the door behind him, then tosses his shirt over a chair. I’m pretty sure he’s angry.

  “Do you know what it was like seeing that prick put his hands all over you? Watching him kiss you day after day?” His nostrils flare, and I feel sick to my stomach. “It ripped my fucking heart out!”

  “I’d give anything to take it back! I can’t stand that I’ve hurt you; you didn’t deserve it.”

  He steps toward me, ‘til I’m backed against the wall, with his palms flat on either side of me. “Why are you yelling at me?”

  Lowering the volume of my voice, I say, “I’m not yelling at you … I’m yelling at myself!” My lip quivers. “I should’ve trusted you!”

  “You never answered my question.”

  “About what?”

  “Did you love him?”

  I shake my head. “I’ve only ever loved you.”

  “You tell him you love him?”

  I take a long, slow blink. “Yes … but I was confused,” I say, struggling to keep my gaze above his neck. “It’s why I couldn’t take the next step with him,” I continue. “He couldn’t stand that I was still in love with you—that you were all I could see—that I wouldn’t touch him the way that I’ve touched you!”

  “Yeah, why didn’t you? ‘Cause you sure let him touch you.”

  “It only feels right when I’m with you!”

  Bringing his face inches from mine, he asks, “And why do you think that is?” His gaze is fierce.

  “Because you belong to me, and I belong to you!” I grab his face, our mouths colliding, and then one of his hands is in my hair, the other is rubbing down my back, and squeezing my ass. “I’ve been yours since the very first day I met you.” I reach for his waistband and unbutton his jeans, and his breathing increases. Our movement becomes frantic, and I slip my hand inside his boxer briefs, stroking him like he’d once shown me. Kissing him deep, I move my grip up and down his long, thick shaft.

  He hangs his head to watch what I’m doing. “You don’t play fair,” he groans.

  “Neither do you,” I reply, zoning in on the sexy V that flexes, while he lightly thrusts in my hand. I can feel myself getting wetter at the sight. Teasing my lips, he swoops me up, carrying me toward the couch. My dress is off within seconds, and my bra comes next. I shiver at his gaze, as he stares at my naked breasts.

  He senses my nervousness. “This okay?”

  I nod, biting my lip, before his eyes return to my breasts. My skin tingles in anticipation. After taking me in, he greedily cups my breasts together, bringing my peaked nipple into his warm mouth. I moan, pulling him closer, and he swirls his tongue, lapping at my nipple. Using his finger and thumb, he stimulates the other one. A current jolts between my legs, and I cry out, arching toward the ceiling. He feasts on my breasts, as if he is starving—nibbling and licking—with his arousal pressing against my thigh.

  My legs shake. “Luke, please!” I whimper, needing him inside me
.

  “Told you, you would beg.” Meeting my eyes, he continues his assault on me.

  I reach for his jeans. “You’re torturing me!” I try to get them over his hips, but he doesn’t budge. “Please, help me take these off.” If he wants me to beg, I’ll beg.

  Groaning, he shoves them down his legs, and I kick them off his feet. Shifting with just our underwear between us, he holds himself above me. I take my time, exploring the ridges in his back, over his shoulders, down the front of him. His body trembles when I trace the lines of his stomach, then his teeth graze his bottom lip.

  Angling his head, he takes my mouth with his. Our tongues tangle, then he rocks against me, squeezing my breast. We moan together, and he circles his hips, pressing his hardness exactly where I need him. I arch into him, increasing the friction, then claw at his back. He releases my lips and slides his nose down my cheek. “If I take you now, I’ll hurt you.” He pulls back to look at me. “And the fucked up thing about it is, part of me wants to.” He swallows.

  My heart is breaking all over again. I put that hurt on his face. “Do it. I want you to hurt me.”

  His head drops to the crook of my neck, and he presses his lips there.

  “Don’t … don’t say that.” Gripping my panties, he rips them off in one quick movement, shocking me. “You’re soaked,” he growls. He brushes the hair off my face, before his fingers trickle along my flesh. I squirm beneath him. Seconds later, one long finger slips inside me, and he swallows my moans. I grip his smooth, hard length, pumping him in my hand. He hisses through his teeth, adding another finger, and I can’t stop the noises coming from my mouth. My body rises, and I follow his movements, wanting him to teach me.

  “Feels so good,” he whispers, licking the shell of my ear. “Does this feel good?”

  “It feels amazing,” I breathe.

  “Damn, I should’ve left your panties on.” Lifting my hips, he thrusts against me. “Ahh, it’d be so easy to just—”

  “It’s okay,” I pant. “I’m ready.”

  He curls his fingers, stroking me deep. “Want it to be special,” he says, barely able to speak. Both of us are dripping with sweat. I bite his shoulder to keep from screaming. “I’m not gonna last,” he chokes, flicking his tongue back and forth over my nipple.