by Sykes, V. K.
Ryan obviously liked her answer. “Maybe I could show you how grateful I am for offering to help me with the apartment,” he said with a sly smile that jacked her heart rate up even higher. “My room is only two floors down from here. Nobody would have to see us.”
He was clearly dead serious, his dark eyes so slumberous and sexy that they took her breath away. Her hands trembled, and she didn’t dare pick up her glass even though she needed a drink now as badly as she’d ever needed one in her life. The man could unnerve her in a heartbeat.
She swallowed past her tight throat. Every ounce of her intelligence and common sense told her to laugh, say nice try, and leave. Alone. Though desire and need had always been overruled by her good sense in the past, not with Ryan Locke. What had happened that night in Apollo Beach was happening all over again. She knew she should jump off the crazy train before it was too late, but her shoes seemed to be metaphorically stuck to the floor, leaving her gaping at the platform as the doors closed tight in front of her.
The vortex was sucking her down again, and her half-baked resolve was no match for it.
“Nobody had better,” she said in a voice she barely recognized.
18
WHILE RYAN PAID the bill for their drinks, Taylor slipped out into the hallway, too jittery to wait in the lounge. And though it was unlikely that anyone from the party downstairs would come up and stumble across them, she loathed risking even the slightest chance.
The part of her brain not completely swamped by the need to be in Ryan’s arms was knocking hard on the inside of her skull, telling her to run, not walk, to the nearest elevator and flee the hotel. But with all the will in the world, she couldn’t. As she watched Ryan through the glass doors of the bar, taking in his easy and unconscious masculine grace as he exchanged a few words with the waitress, she knew she wanted him as much as she’d ever wanted anything in life—including her job with the Patriots. Nothing had ever come close to that before, and the idea that a potential relationship with Ryan did come that close filled her with reckless exhilaration.
It also scared the pants off of her. Well, her panties were definitely coming off tonight, but not as the result of fear.
She retreated down the hallway and lurked by the door leading to the stairwell. Taylor knew she was acting like a crazy person, but since Ryan’s room was only two floors down there was no point in risking an elevator run-in with someone they knew. She wished she wasn’t such a coward, but just saying yes to this and then actually following through was using up her current store of courage, and then some.
Ryan pushed open the glass doors of the bar and strode into the hallway. He glanced toward the elevators, frowned, and then quickly scanned the corridor. When his gaze lighted on her, he smiled. He came to her with a quick, long-legged stride that told her how eager he was to be with her. That set off a lovely glow of warmth inside, and eased the tension that spiraled through her like a corkscrew.
“So, we’re doing our best to evade detection, I take it,” he said as he came up to her. He glanced at the high-tech security camera placed high on the wall on the opposite side of the stairwell. “Do you want me to disable the camera?”
She mentally winced even as she let out a reluctant laugh. “I know it’s stupid, but I think it makes sense to be extra careful, don’t you?”
He took her by the elbow and steered her through the heavy metal door into the stairwell. “I love the idea of sneaking around with a beautiful woman.”
As the door clanged shut behind them, he surprised her by pushing her up against the hard concrete wall at the top of the landing. Deliberately, he covered every inch of the front of her body with his, pressing his already impressively hard erection into her belly as he captured her face between his big hands.
“Sneaking around makes everything so much dirtier, don’t you think?” he murmured as he feathered kisses along her cheekbone and down to the corner of her mouth. “And way hotter. Already I can’t wait to be inside you, babe.”
God help her, but Taylor loved how he took charge. Given the current state of her nerves, it was just what she needed.
She answered him with a satisfied sigh, sliding her hands around his neck. Angling her head, she felt her tensions unspooling as his lips moved from her jaw line to the sensitive flesh below her ear. But when he nipped her earlobe, the resulting shock jolted her back to her senses.
“Jeez,” she exclaimed, giving him a smack on the shoulder. “What are you, a vampire?”
His low, husky laugh made her go weak behind the knees. “Come on, Taylor. I think you liked it.”
Damn it, she had liked it. In fact, the thought of him making little love bites all over her body was a surprisingly exciting thought. Not that she intended to admit that to him.
“Well, maybe a bit,” she admitted in a grudging voice. “But there’s no need to go caveman on me.”
He braced his forearms on either side of her head while still keeping his pelvis plastered against her. Almost unconsciously she couldn’t help giving a little wriggle, and his eyes rewarded her with a flare of sexual heat.
“One second I’m a vampire and the next I’m a caveman,” he answered with mock complaint. “If I didn’t know better, I would guess you had a thing for alpha males.”
She snorted. “Trust me. I have more than enough alpha males in my life without having to resort to fantasies about vampires or cavemen.”
He appraised her with a smoldering, narrow-eyed gaze that made her just a wee bit nervous and more than a little hot.
“Um, Ryan, what are you—”
“Caveman,” he said with a nod, cutting her off.
And before she even had a chance to catch her breath, he quickly stooped and then tipped her over his brawny shoulder. When he stood, she found herself hanging over his back in a classic fireman’s carry, with his hand on her butt and her purse dangling down around his knees.
“What the hell are you doing?” she forced out with a strangled cry.
He began jogging down the stairs, bouncing her stomach against his shoulder and forcing most of the air out of her lungs.
“From my intimate knowledge of you, I’ve decided that you’re more the caveman type,” he said. “I just can’t see you as a Twilight kind of gal, to tell you the truth.”
“I’m not the anything type,” she said in a breathless pant. “And this is insane.”
He was moving down the stairs with effortless motion, one hand skimming lightly over the railing and the other planted firmly on her cheeks. Predictably, her skirt had hiked up when he’d thrown her over his shoulder, and part of his hand was resting on her naked flesh. Today of all days had to be the one when she wore a thong. That wasn’t her normal choice of underwear, but her little black skirt was so tight that anything else created panty lines. So to say that she felt virtually naked and exposed was something of an understatement.
She was also beginning to get incredibly excited at the thought of what Caveman Ryan was going to do her, and that kind of instinctive response was bringing the blood rushing to her face.
Of course, that probably had more to do with the fact that she was hanging upside down. Oh, well, at least she had a nice view of his very fine ass underneath the soft leather of his jacket. And it was only two floors down, so she supposed she could let him have his little fantasy.
But when he pushed open the door to his floor without putting her down, Taylor let out a startled yelp. “Ryan, put me down! What if someone sees us?”
He gave her ass a little squeeze. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I looked first. There’s nobody around.”
She craned around, peering along the softly lit hallway in the direction of the elevator. The corridor was empty, and the only sound was the tread of his shoes on the thick, burgundy colored carpet.
“And here we are at my door,” he said in a smugly cheerful voice. “Just one second more and—”
When the door next to Ryan’s room opened, Taylor almost had a h
eart attack. From her upside down position she could see an older couple emerge, the man dressed in a tuxedo and the woman in an evening gown, fur stole, and pearls. Even hanging off Ryan’s back she could see the consternation written all over their well-bred faces.
“Good gracious,” exclaimed the woman in a horrified voice.
“Oh, hi,” Ryan said, as friendly as anything. “My wife was feeling a little tipsy, so I’m just helping her back to the room. We’re celebrating our anniversary and she got a little carried away.”
Taylor had to repress the impulse to dig her nails hard into Ryan’s butt. Instead, she just managed a weak wave in the couple’s direction.
“Well, I never,” huffed the woman, dragging her husband down the hall toward the elevators. But even as she hustled him along the man turned back toward Taylor and Ryan and, grinning, gave them the thumbs up sign.
Taylor groaned, letting her head thunk down against the middle of Ryan’s back as he carried her into his room. He bent at the knees and gently set her on her feet, holding her by the shoulders for a few seconds until her blood settled back where it belonged.
“I’m going to kill you,” she promised as he got busy with her blouse.
“Nah, no you won’t.”
She propped her hands on her hips and glared at him, impeding his determination to get the starched cotton shirt off her body. “What if someone had seen us? Someone from the team, even?”
He yanked her blouse from her shoulders, pulling it down her arms until she finally gave in and let him draw it over her hands.
“I’m not an idiot, Taylor,” he said. “There’s nobody else from the team staying on this floor.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, some of the wind going out of her sails. Feeling a bit embarrassed, she avoided looking at him, letting her gaze drift around the room as he pulled off his jacket and went to work on his shirt.
It was a spacious and well-appointed junior suite, typical of the high end hotels where the players stayed. The bed was huge, of course, and there was also a comfortable seating area with a sofa and two chairs by the big picture window. A desk was on the other side of the room, with a computer and a bunch of files stacked beside it. Despite the somewhat sterile decorating scheme, he’d clearly made himself at home, with items of clothing tossed onto the couch and newspapers and several books stacked in haphazard piles around the room.
“Still…you never know,” she said, unable to completely let go of her anxiety. “It wouldn’t be good for people to see us.”
Ryan had just finished unbuttoning his shirt, giving her a welcome and distracting glimpse of his gorgeous chest and six-pack abs. But rather than pulling the shirt off the rest of the way, he placed his hands on her shoulders and crouched down a bit, gazing right into her eyes.
“I know,” he said in a quiet voice. “And I would never try to force this out into the open or do anything to make you feel truly uncomfortable.” His dark gaze held steady and sincere, and Taylor felt the tight little knot in her gut ease off a bit.
“Whatever this is,” he added, as one side of his mouth quirked up in a self-deprecating smile.
It was exactly the right thing to say, signaling that she would decide what happened next, along with defining the nature of their budding relationship. The knot unraveled another turn.
“Thanks,” she whispered, letting one hand slip inside his shirt to settle on his chest. His skin was smooth and hot under her fingertips, the muscles underneath as hard as stone.
“You’re welcome,” he said. His voice was solemn but his eyes sparked with an utterly sexy gleam. “And now that we’re finished with the business portion of the meeting, let’s get on to the entertainment.”
She laughed, and suddenly her heart felt lighter than it had in a very long time. “What do you have in mind?”
“When I had you over my shoulder—and can I just say how much I enjoyed that—I thought I felt a decided lack of anything resembling underwear under your skirt.”
“Hmm, I see,” she said, crossing her arms under her breasts and deliberately plumping them up over the top of her white bra. It was plain, but made from soft satin with a lovely sheen, and Ryan’s hot gaze dipped appreciatively downward to take in the view. “What, sir, do you intend to do about that?”
“I intend to find exactly what’s inside that neat little package,” he said, his voice dropping to a sexy rumble. “Now turn around.”
He followed up his instructions by placing his hands on her hips and spinning her to face the bed. She teetered on her heels, but Ryan kept her upright with one hand while the other went to the zipper at the back of her skirt.
“Have I told you lately what a very sweet ass you have?” he asked as he eased down her zipper.
Taylor’s heart thumped with an excited, erratic beat. “Come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever commented on my ass.”
“Shocking oversight on my part,” he murmured as he eased the material down over her hips. Taylor wriggled a bit to help him.
Sweet mother of God,” he breathed in a reverent voice as he slipped the fabric down her legs. Taylor put one hand on the bed as she stepped out of the skirt and nudged it to the side with her foot.
You like?” she asked.
But when she started to turn around, her held her in place. “I love it,” he said, tracing his finger the length of the simple white thong, up to the waistband. “I never figured you to wear a thong, but I can’t say that I’m sorry you did.”
She glanced over her shoulder, her stomach jumping a bit at the taut, almost predatory look on his handsome features. “It’s the skirt,” she said. “Too tight to wear regular underwear.”
“Tight is good,” he muttered.
He finally let her turn around, moving back a step to take a good look at her. Taylor forced herself to relax, letting her hands hang loosely by her side. But it wasn’t easy being casual when dressed only in a white bra, an itty-bitty matching thong, and high heels, especially when a big, horny guy was looking you over with the obvious intention of keeping you in bed for a very long time.
It was the kind of look that made a girl go soft and wet between the thighs, and weak behind the knees.
“You’re a goddess, Taylor,” Ryan growled as he slowly pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. He didn’t bother taking off his pants, but instead prowled up to her, crowding her until her legs hit the bed and she sat down with a little thump. But when she raised her arms to him, he lifted her up and tossed her a little further onto the bed. She giggled, bouncing on the luxurious mattress and bedding, expecting him to come down on her.
Instead, he startled her by placing his big hands on her hips and flipping her over, so that she was sprawled on her stomach. She felt the mattress bounce a bit as he climbed on, then his hands were back on her body, pulling her onto her knees.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a puzzled laugh as she tried to look over her shoulder at him.
His dark gaze gleamed wickedly back at her. “I’m not done with your ass yet, babe. Not by a long shot.”
That sounded rather alarming but, after all, she was wearing a thong. That was pretty much an open-ended invitation to go wild, she guessed. Taylor didn’t really do wild. Not until Ryan had come along, anyway.
“Well, okay then,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound like an idiot.
A low laugh was his only answer, although a few seconds later he whispered that she should rest on her elbows. She complied, scrunching the soft down pillows under her arms while he arranged her bottom, tilting up and deliciously exposed. Taylor shivered with barely suppressed excitement, and suddenly she couldn’t wait for him to do whatever it was he was going to do.
Then Ryan began to play, one big hand stroking and squeezing her bottom while the other slipped between her thighs, over the silky fabric of the thong and hitting her sweet spot in just the right place. Taylor moaned and turned her head, resting her cheek against the cool pillowcase, easing in
to the luxurious building of tension in her core.
She’d never thought of herself as the passive type, either in or out of bed, but right now she was more than content to let Ryan take charge. She let him arrange her body as he saw fit, drifting along in a sensual daze, not worrying about how it would end or whether her partner would be pleased. Besides, it was clear Ryan was getting a whole lot of pleasure out of the present scenario, as his heavy breath and darkly murmured words of sexual appreciation told her.
Just when she didn’t think she could take any more of his teasing, his fingers flicking and rubbing oh-so-gently over her clit, he pulled her up even higher then moved her legs farther apart. Her ass was tilted up and her legs spread wide, her flesh throbbing with the urgent need for him to touch her.
“Ryan,” she moaned, twisting back to try and look at him. “Please…”
“I’m getting there, gorgeous,” he rasped. Then he braced one hand on her ass, holding her still, while the other finally slipped under her thong. Two long fingers pushed into her wet flesh, then a third, spreading her open as he slowly pumped in and out. The other hand kneaded her cheeks in the most sensual massage she had ever experienced.
She squirmed underneath him, trapped but unable to keep still. But he held her in place, controlling her movements with a rough assurance that excited the hell out of her. Taylor didn’t think she’d ever been more aroused, but she still needed more. She needed something a little bit extra that in her pleasure-drugged state she couldn’t quite articulate.
Clenching her teeth, she pushed back against his teasing hands. Ryan pulled his fingers from inside her and pressed the heel of his hand against her clit. She moaned and strained against him, poised on the edge. The sweet pull of desire clawed at her, rushing through her veins. Ryan’s brawny body blanketed her with heat. She rocked into his hand, so close, so wanting it and needing it, but instinctively holding back. Taylor had never felt anything so primal and erotic in her life and the deepest part of her resisted, wanting to hold onto the delirious pleasure of the moment for as long as possible.