Roughing It With Ryan

by Jill Shalvis

  “A lot?”

  “More than an arm and a leg, let me tell you. But I figure if I sell off the antiques, I can do this, assuming, of course, that I never need to eat or heat the place again.”

  “No problem,” Suzanne said. “This is Southern California, we’ll live without heating. As for the eating part, I have two more catering jobs coming up. A promotion party and a housewarming get-together.”

  “Good for you! You should toss the want ads I see you scanning every day and go for it.”

  “Oh, no. Catering’s just a hobby. But with the few odd jobs here and there, I can keep us fed.” Suzanne leaned over the blue prints, which she had no idea how to read, looking up when she felt Taylor go utterly still. “What’s the matter?”

  Taylor looked stunned. “You…you just said you’d feed me.”

  “Yeah, like your skinny little butt needs much.”

  “But…that’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to me.” Her smile a bit watery now, she held out her spoon in a cheers. “To not needing heating this year.”

  Suzanne toasted her right back. “To a steady job to keep us in ice cream.”

  “To lots of sexy guys working on this place,” Taylor said and grinned. “Might as well get some good scenery out of the deal.”

  “And last but not least…” Suzanne firmly kept her gaze off the window and the sexiest shirtless guy in the entire world as she lifted her spoon in another toast. “To remaining single.”

  “To remaining single,” Taylor agreed. “Which does not preclude having sex when available—under responsible conditions, of course.”

  Of course. And that, unfortunately, was the problem.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about sex, responsible or otherwise.

  THE NEXT EVENING, Suzanne slaved away in her kitchen, cooking like a fiend for the upcoming promotion party.

  As always, she had vanilla candles lit, both for a relaxing aid, and also because she loved the flickering glow and scent.

  Taylor sat on the counter, stuffing her face as fast as Suzanne stuffed the giant mushrooms. “I’m going to need another tenant,” she said around a full bite. “Soon as I get the wall in the loft fixed. And God save us from deadbeats.”

  “I’ll toast to that.” They lifted their lemonade, then each chased it with a stuffed mushroom.

  “Good God, can you cook.” Taylor moaned over another bite. “Where did you learn? Your mom?”

  Suzanne laughed. “My mom’s idea of cooking is pressing a button on the microwave. What I do baffles her. She’s a teacher, and has always wanted me to be noble and do the same.”

  Taylor shuddered. “Deal with kids? Just kill me now.”

  Suzanne stopped stuffing mushrooms and smiled. “That’s what I like most about you. You’d never let someone tell you who and what to be.”

  “You wouldn’t either.”

  “Ah, but you’re wrong there.” Stalling, Suzanne flipped on the kitchen light, as the sun had nearly set. Out her window came the glow of halogen lights from Ryan’s crew, who were still working. “Up until very recently I did exactly that, let people tell me what to do. My mother wanted me to teach, so I taught. Kindergarten. Wiped running noses all day long.”

  Taylor shuddered again.

  “Then my first fiancé wanted me to be a nurse, but I didn’t have the right education, so I became a medical assistant instead.”

  “Ugh.”

  “No kidding. The day a nurse handed me a bed pan, I walked.”

  Taylor laughed, then slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, it gets worse. My next fiancé thought I should be an exotic dancer. And since that horrified my mother, it was actually a bonus for a while—kind of payback for the runny noses.”

  Taylor’s eyes were shining with sympathy and laughter. “You didn’t.”

  “I so did.”

  “Well, you have the body for it.”

  “The men certainly thought so, but dancing on tables wasn’t my thing.” The teaching had given her momentary prestige, the medical profession a sense of purpose. But all the dancing had gotten her was good cash tips. She’d been left feeling…aimless. Until the cooking gig. “My last fiancé—”

  “The crybaby jerk?”

  “Right. The crybaby jerk. He got me started on the chef thing. Which is more than I can say for anyone else in my life.”

  “What happened to them all?”

  “The fiancés?” Suzanne lifted a shoulder. “I destroyed whatever they felt for me. One by one.”

  “I doubt that you did that single-handedly.”

  “I’m bad at love, Taylor. Just ask any of them. I’m aimless and not serious enough. I hurt each of them and it didn’t take that long either.”

  “Love sucks,” Taylor said with a finality that told Suzanne she knew of what she spoke. Suzanne opened her mouth to ask about it but glanced at a movement by the door.

  Ryan stood there, his big body filling the doorway. Given his intense eyes and the lack of his usual smile, she’d guess he’d heard everything. Despite that, his physical presence captured her gaze and wouldn’t let it go.

  Just looking at him made her feel a little weak, a little needy, when she hated both. Could he understand, really understand, that no matter how they nearly exploded every time they simply got within touching distance, she couldn’t give in?

  She wouldn’t hurt another soul.

  “I don’t intend to ruin another man,” she said to Taylor, never taking her eyes off Ryan.

  “Well, who needs men anyway?” Taylor turned to Ryan and bit her lower lip, a mischievous smile slowly curving her lips. “Though I have to say, they do have their occasional uses. The recreational sport of sex, for instance. What do you think, Suzanne?”

  Ryan, the tall, big, sexy jerk, simply smiled. “Yes, Suzanne,” he said ever so politely while his eyes smoldered. “What do you think?”

  “That I’ve given you enough stuffed mushrooms,” Suzanne muttered, grabbing the tray from Taylor. On second thought, she snatched the tall glass of lemonade from her as well.

  Taylor only laughed, then hopped off the counter. Tossing back her mane of blond hair, she kissed Suzanne on the cheek. “Don’t get all snippy now. I was just trying to prove a point.”

  “Which would be?”

  “That having wild monkey sex with a man is not the same thing as giving up your life for one.” Leaning forward she said in a mock whisper, “In other words, go for it.” Straightening, she winked at Ryan. “See you later.” Waving perfectly manicured fingernails, she walked right out of the kitchen.

  Leaving Ryan alone with the woman he couldn’t seem to get enough of.

  “I meant what I said,” Suzanne said to him, turning her back, busying her hands with something in a bowl. “I don’t need a man.”

  Only a few weeks ago, Ryan would have said he didn’t need a woman, either. But there was a churning in his gut when he looked at her that he’d never experienced before, a need. An insatiable hunger.

  Oh yeah, he needed a woman. He needed her.

  “I don’t need anyone,” she added into the silence.

  “So you’ve said.” Moving in close, he put his hands on her hips. He liked putting his hands on her, and it was time she knew it. He peeked over her shoulder into the bowl, and his poor, neglected stomach growled. “What’s cooking?”

  She sighed, but didn’t move away.

  Progress, he decided.

  “You’re hungry,” she said with another sigh. “Of course you are, you worked like a dog today. Have a seat and I’ll—”

  The lights flickered once and went out.

  Suzanne gasped, and Ryan gently squeezed his fingers on her hips, touched beyond belief that she’d noticed him working so hard, that in spite of whatever complicated feelings she had, she’d stop everything to see him fed. “You actually made me forget what I came to tell you,” he said. “The electricity is going off for a bit, just while Rafe cuts dow
n a branch too close to the electrical lines. We’d do it tomorrow, but there’s supposed to be a Santa Ana wind coming through. It’s dangerous to wait.”

  She whirled to face him, and he caught her scent, the sweet, clean scent that tickled him in his dreams. A strand of her hair clung to his jaw and he held still so that it stayed there.

  “But I have to finish cooking. I need electricity to finish.”

  “It won’t be long. You still have the candlelight.” Which was meager at best, since there were only three little ones left burning. He’d left his hands on her hips, and fought the urge to glide them over her entire body.

  “W-what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

  Hell if that wasn’t a loaded question. “We could talk.”

  “It was just a dance,” she said defensively, referring to the party.

  “Like the kiss was just a kiss?”

  “Yes.” But her breath caught, and in the glow of the candlelight, he looked into her unsure face.

  Snagged by that, and the way she felt in his hands, he shifted closer, and when she let out a little murmur of helpless pleasure at the feel of him, he pressed closer still. “Suzanne.” She thought herself some kind of man destroyer, but the truth as he saw it was, she’d been hurt. She didn’t trust easily. She wasn’t someone to toy with. He knew this, just as he knew he should walk away. But he’d already decided he wouldn’t do that.

  Instead, he glided his hands up her arms, over her soft throat, to her face, which he cupped, wishing he could see her more clearly. “Suzanne…what’s happening here?”

  “I…don’t know what you mean.”

  His hips bumped hers, she let out that helpless hum again, and this time he groaned. “You feel it. I know you do.”

  “It’s just…” Her breathing quickened, and she put her hands on his shoulders, gripping hard, as if she needed the balance. “It’s just what Taylor said. A healthy need for recreational sex.”

  “So if we had sex, right here, right now, you’re saying the need between us would vanish?”

  He didn’t need any light to know she stood there with her mouth open, and he let out a groaning laugh, putting his forehead to hers. “Okay, let’s find you a flashlight or more candles so I can get the hell out of here before I take advantage of your unbelievably arousing silence.”

  “No one takes advantage of me.” As if to prove that statement, she slid her hands into his hair and fisted them, tugging him closer. Her warm breath brushed his cheek, her long, loose hair slid over his arm.

  He nearly inhaled her. God, he could eat her up.

  “Come to think of it,” she murmured. “I’ve never taken advantage of anyone either. Funny, because I’ve always wanted to.” She rocked against him. “Think I could take advantage of you, Ryan?”

  He went instantly hard, and he opened his mouth to offer himself as a sacrifice when she covered his mouth with hers.

  Just like before, instantaneous combustion, and oh man, the feel of her in his hands, against him, letting out that rough little sound in the back of her throat…

  Her fingers tightened in his hair, as if she was afraid he’d pull away. Not a chance, he would have told her, if her tongue hadn’t been dancing with his. He wouldn’t have pulled away even if he was suffocating.

  Suzanne wasn’t suffocating, she was drowning, in pleasure. She had the cold counter at her back and a hard Ryan at her front, and yet she’d never felt so hot in her life. The lack of light only lent to the intimacy somehow, and that brought her back enough to break away to say on a gasping breath, “This is just what we said, no more, no less.”

  “Sex.”

  “Just sex. And when we’re done…”

  “We’re done,” he finished.

  Was she imagining things or did he sound sceptical, as though he didn’t believe it?

  “Right.” She was practically panting now, and so was he. “Itch scratched,” she added.

  “Right.”

  “Promise?” She held his head, squinted through the dark to see his gaze.

  “Suzanne…”

  “No, you have to promise. You have to because…” She hesitated, then said on a shaky breath, “because I’ve never had ‘just sex’ before.”

  He looked shocked, Suzanne thought, very shocked.

  “Never?”

  “Never,” she admitted. “I want to have sex without getting engaged, Ryan.”

  He hesitated, damn him. “No,” she said fiercely. “Don’t hesitate.”

  “I feel something for you, Suzanne, something I don’t understand yet and I won’t make a promise I can’t be sure I can keep.”

  “You have to,” she said, and heard her own desperation.

  “What if more than just sex is better?”

  “No. Promise, Ryan. Please.”

  For the longest moment, he just looked at her, her dark and beautiful tree man.

  “Ryan? Promise me.”

  Night had fallen around them, so that without the electricity, there was little but candlelight and the faint glow from the building across the street. The sound of the wind outside the window felt rhythmic, hypnotic, and so did the feel of Ryan engulfing her in his embrace.

  When he groaned and pulled her even closer, she melted against him. And some of the odd emptiness she’d been feeling faded. They could do this and be done with it. Get on with their lives. And afterwards, this inexplicable need for each other would just go away.

  No entanglements.

  No broken hearts.

  That made this okay, didn’t it? She wouldn’t hurt him, because this was all they’d have.

  She wanted to believe that, oh, how she wanted to believe, because his mouth was so firm, and so deliciously demanding, she couldn’t help but sink back into the mindlessness of it, needing the mindlessness of it.

  “Suzanne…” Just beneath her ear, he sucked on a patch of skin, and made her knees weak. “I love the way you hold onto me when I touch you.”

  She was. She was clinging to him as if he were her entire life, and instead of jerking away at the knowledge, she wrapped her arms around his neck and arched to him.

  “Oh yeah, like that,” he said on a low growl. “Yeah, like that.” He kissed her again—longer, wetter, deeper. He had a wonderful mouth, a make-her-forget-everything mouth, and he knew just what to do with it to make her wild.

  “Suzanne?”

  No. No talking. Trying to tell him, she arched her body to his. Had Tim said she needed a sexual therapist? Was he insane? She needed a hose to put out the fire!

  “Stop me now if you’re going to,” Ryan said in a low growl as he ran openmouthed kisses down her throat.

  Not a chance. Instead she leaned in and bit his lower lip, making him groan, making him lift her against him so that her feet dangled as he devoured her mouth with his.

  While they gobbled each other up, she took her hands on a tour over his amazing arms, his wide shoulders, feeling her insides rev up because he turned her on so much. Thank God his hesitation had pretty much walked. It might return in the light of day but she didn’t want to face that now, she didn’t want to face anything but this. And now that her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she could really see him, the way he was looking at her, and for the first time she understood true lust and the power of it.

  He sat her on the counter, then held her head for a long, hungry kiss before making his way down her neck, all the while sliding his hands over her thighs to her knees, urging them open so he could step between them, press up against her.

  He was hard, so gloriously hard, her breath caught.

  “Mmm, love that sound,” he murmured, making her sigh again, against his throat, a sigh that bubbled up into her throat, changing into a moan when he cupped her breasts. Her sundress had buttons down the front to her belly, four of them. She knew this because, catching her gaze in his hot one, he popped them open. One. At. A. Time.

  Then he looked down at her, and slowly pushed the material off h
er shoulders. With one finger he traced the edging of her bra, from one side to the other. Her nipples had long ago beaded to two tight little tips, but she couldn’t believe how erotic it was to sit there, spread open for him, and watch him watch her while he touched her.

  He opened the front hook on her bra and peeled that material away, too, letting out a deep heartfelt groan at the sight revealed. Cupping her in his hands, he used his thumbs to trace the underside of the heavy curves, lightly, so lightly.

  Her nipples went even harder. Her hips involuntarily thrust upward.

  Then he danced his fingers over her nipples, making her let out a horribly needy sound from deep in her throat. “Ryan…”

  “I know.” Bending his head, he pulled a hard tip into his mouth, using first his tongue, then his teeth on her, until she made the sound again.

  By the time he drew her in deep and sucked, she was practically sobbing his name. Barely remembering she’d started this, that she was supposedly taking advantage of him, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed against that most interesting hard bulge there.

  He answered by popping her breast free, then staring down at the wet nipple while tracing it with his thumb. “You’re so soft. So perfect.” While he said this, he bunched up her dress to her waist, not difficult since it was lightweight and loose and gauzy.

  It gave her a bad moment, wondering if he preferred skinny women, and she tried to suck in her stomach, but he let out such a genuine sigh at the sight of her, she instantly forgot about her imperfections.

  His hands slid inside the back of her panties, cupping her bottom, pressing her even closer so that she could feel exactly what this little interlude had done to him.

  Just thinking about it, feeling him rock against the neediest part of her body, made her weak and trembly. She was close, so very unbelievably close, and he’d hardly touched her. But her toes were already curling, and she had to, had to have more. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she bit his lower lip and said in a shaky voice she hardly recognized as her own. “Please, Ryan.”

  “Whatever you want,” he promised hoarsely.

  And then the lights came on.