by MJ Carnal
Completely bald and with a battered body, Ryan took the halls of Beverly Vista Middle school by storm. His first day of school, he met a very outspoken Mark Moretti, a very wild Caleb Allen and very reserved Rich Dickerman and became a permanent fixture of what the teachers called the Dickerman Brothers. He excelled at sports and academics and even at a young age, his focus on healthy living never wavered. His zest for life was matched only by his love of the opposite sex. He made a pact with his friends that they would live the high life together, promising to maintain bachelor status for life. It seemed like such a simple idea to a young mind.
Ryan attended UCLA on a baseball scholarship and set his sites on the major leagues and the Boston Red Sox. His sophomore year began with a health scare that required five rounds of chemotherapy and the end of his college career. Being unable to play baseball, his scholarship was dissolved and Ryan spent the remainder of what would have been his college days, living with Caleb and Mark and studying physical therapy at the local community college. He had made a career out of physical fitness and had become one of the most popular trainers in LA.
Los Angeles Confidential had asked to interview him when they learned of some of his famous clients and the difference Ryan was making through his non profit foundation, Save LA Youth. The reporter had taken one look at him and fallen hard. His pictures scattered the pages of the article and adorned the front page.
The cell phone rang and startled him. “Ryan West.”
Mark’s voice yelled through the phone. “How is my favorite celebrity today? Just picked up my copy of the magazine and walked right off the curb when I saw your ugly mug staring back at me. Why didn’t you tell us you got the cover?”
Ryan laughed. “I hope you twisted your ankle.”
“Is that any way to talk to the man who has four tables reserved at Foxtail for tonight at 8:00? Dinner and drinks on me and Sophie. We will see you there.” Mark hung up without waiting for a response.
“You have plans tonight Kev?” Ryan yelled out into the gym. “Dinner and Drinks at 8. I need a new wingman.”
Tonight, he would get her out of his system. Tonight he would cuddle up to a warm body and remind himself that he was a playboy. It was now or never. Ryan scrubbed his hand down his face. He hoped she wouldn’t be there.
****
Ryan stepped into Foxtail right on time. His jeans hung low on his hips, showing off his narrow waist. His red shirt hugged his shoulders and his muscles rippled underneath. His dark hair stuck up on top, like he had just gotten out of bed and his brown eyes sparkled when he smiled. He turned heads everywhere he went. He spent more nights than he could count bedding his female admirers and had a black book full of midnight calls he could count on.
Spotting his friends in the corner, Ryan waved. He ordered a beer and took a seat next to Mark. Surveying the table, he took in all the smiling faces. When his gaze landed on Layla, he had to swallow around the lump in his throat. This was going to be a long night.
“Congrats brother. We had no idea we were in the company of a VIP.”
“Bite me Moretti.” Ryan took a long pull of his beer. “I have been telling you assholes for years that I am a legend.”
“And he’s humble.” Layla smiled and held up her beer as his friends laughed. “I guess I need a personal trainer since I now live in the land of the beautiful.”
“Lay, you don’t need any help.” Mark put his arm around his soon to be sister in law.
Ryan felt an overwhelming urge to growl. His lips formed a straight line and his eyes narrowed. The green eyed monster had reared its ugly head and had taken a seat in Ryan’s lap. Clearing his throat, Ryan looked at Layla. “I will help you anytime. I’m in the gym until six everyday and then can be wherever you need me, whenever you need me.”
“That almost sounded like a come on. And seriously, Ryan, you cannot get near my sister. I won’t let that happen.” Sophie sipped her water and rubbed her slightly rounded, pregnant belly.
Layla made eye contact with Ryan and blushed. Their secret was safe for now. But he knew they could never make that mistake again. He would never settle down. He lived life to the fullest and that did not include being tied down to one person. And Layla was different. Her love of adventure and family made her the perfect woman, for someone else. She loved children and had dedicated her life to being an interpreter for hearing disabled youth. He would not have children. He had watched his parents go through his illness with heavy hearts and a broken bank account. He would not pass his genes down to another person.
The conversation turned to the article and his dedication to the youth of LA. His program had provided free healthcare to the less fortunate. He worked side by side with the same doctors that had saved his life nearly fifteen years before. Countless people worked tirelessly to make sure the underprivileged had preventative health screenings and if cancer was detected, Ryan made sure he was available as a role model during treatment. Layla had listened and held her breath as she heard the story of his Leukemia. Her face had paled as she heard about the diagnosis and the difficult time his family had during treatment. She had winked at him when he made eye contact and watched him when he wasn’t looking.
After more shots than Ryan could count and a belly full of terrible food, he stood and made his way to the back of the club. His mind had stayed focused on Layla all evening. He had watched her mouth as she spoke and her tongue as she licked her lips. Her dark eyes had met him a few times and held. His temperature had risen and his pants had become tight. When he couldn’t breathe, he excused himself to go splash some cold water on his face. It hadn’t helped. His brain was in overdrive. It had been nearly eight weeks since the encounter in Layla’s room and there had been no one since. His reputation for a new woman every night had gone out the window with one touch of her skin. It was time to move on. He took a deep breath and headed to the door.
As he walked down the dark hallway, gentle hands grabbed his shirt and pressed him against the wall. With total abandon, Layla’s lips crashed against his and her tongue begged for entry. He moaned into her mouth and parted his lips. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and her tongue thrust into his mouth. She pulled his bottom lip with her teeth and when he tried to move, he found himself plastered against the wall once more.
“Layla,” He breathed. His breath was shallow and his heart pounded against his rib cage. “What are you doing?”
“I want you. Right now. No more games.” She pulled him from the wall and into the door marked ‘employees only’. She turned the lock on the door and pulled her shirt over her head. He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She rubbed her body over his jeans and moaned. Unbuttoning his jeans, she whispered. “Let’s do this.”
“Shit yeah,” Ryan moaned.
He lifted her skirt to her waist. He pushed aside her black silk thong and his fingers drove into her with abandon. She gasped and gripped his shoulders. Her mouth crashed to his lips and their tongues tangled in an urgent dance. His fingers pulsed inside her, bending slightly and pushing on the place deep inside her that set her on fire. Her orgasm ripped from her without warning, soaking his fingers and she slumped against him.
“God baby. I don’t think I could ever get enough of that.” Ryan panted against her neck.
“Don’t talk.” Layla handed him a foil packet and he ripped it open. She shoved his jeans down to his thighs and positioned her core over his impossibly hard length. She moaned as she took all of him. Her slick core tingled as he filled her. She bit her bottom lip as he began pounding into her.
As her second orgasm rocked her, she bit his shoulder and he growled. Her body pulsed around him, squeezing him and encouraging him to let go. His breath became ragged as he pumped into her two more times before erupting with his own pleasure. Heat poured between them and his hungry mouth found hers again. He moaned as her tongue slipped into his mouth.
With shaking hands, he set her back on the floor and fixed he
r skirt. “We need to stop doing this, Ryan. I know we do. But I can’t help myself.” Layla smoothed the front of his shirt and sighed. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to take you home. And I have never taken anyone home before.”
On her tip toes, she kissed him softly and purred. “I would like that.”
With his heart in his throat, Ryan watched as she walked away.