“Oh, you were just gonna leave it without saying hello?”
Warmth invaded my cheeks. “Your car…I thought you were gone.”
“There was a car in my driveway when I got home. I parked on the street.”
I turned my head and there it was, right on the street. “Oh, I bet that was my sister’s car. Sorry about that. I guess she thought she’d be gone before you got home.”
“It’s all right. Hey, I feel like I owe you for the whole loud music thing the other night. I ordered a huge pizza. Wanna share it with me?”
I wanted to share more than a pizza. Way more. But I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
I turned to leave and had barely taken a step when he said, “Thanks for bringing my mail over, Angela.”
I spun around at the sound of my name coming from his mouth. It wasn’t that I minded us being on a first name basis, it was the way he said it, the way it floated on that accent of his. And when I looked at him, his eyes made me feel naked.
I dropped my gaze. “You’re welcome.”
“You sure you don’t want some pizza?”
I wasn’t sure of a damn thing. So I just stood there.
“It’s meat lovers, deep dish.” He tilted his head and grinned. “You know you want some.”
Heat swarmed my core as I stared at those delicious-looking lips. Oh, I wanted some. I really, really wanted some. “Yeah, I’ll join you,” rushed from my mouth, and I wondered where those words had come from and how they’d managed to escape from my mouth without my permission.
I followed him inside the familiar living room, where a pizza box sat on his huge marble-topped coffee table. Dropping into an overstuffed leather easy chair, I let my eyes roam the room while he ducked into the kitchen to grab a couple of plates. Clean, but not obsessively neat. Nice, expensive-looking furniture, an open laptop sitting on the sofa, his cell phone lying face down on the table next to the pizza box. The walls were bare, and it smelled of a combination of the pizza and his cologne. I closed my eyes and tried to will the ever-present image of him in his underwear away. When I opened them, I asked myself what I was doing there. It’d literally been years since I was with a man intimately, and sitting there was dangerous. He was attracted to me. I’d felt his attraction before, and I was definitely attracted to him. I needed to leave before my needy body overcame what little common sense I was managing to hold on to. Just as I stood, he walked back in with the plates and a couple of bottles of water.
“Uh, maybe I should go,” I said.
He stopped in his tracks. “Why? I thought you wanted pizza.”
Unable to find a response, I reclaimed my seat in silence. You keep acting like a nut, you won’t have to worry about him wanting to sleep with you. “Uh…is this your furniture? I mean, did you bring it with you from…”
“Houston.”
“Right. Houston?”
“No, it’s leased, just like my vehicle.”
“Oh…you still have a place back there?”
“Yeah.”
I wrung my hands in my lap and focused my attention on the floor, not noticing that he was trying to hand me a plate.
“You okay?” he asked, setting the plate on the coffee table.
I shook my head and scoffed. “Honestly, not at all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just…I don’t know.”
“You look stressed. Been working hard?”
I nodded as I looked up at him. Working hard at trying not to think about you.
He smiled down at me. “Come in the kitchen and let me see if I can help you.”
I frowned but stood and followed him, wondering to myself what he was planning to do. Relax me with food?
He pulled a chair out from the kitchen table. “Have a seat.”
I did, and watched as he moved to the right of the chair I occupied, towering over me. He raised his hands, wiggled his fingers, and said, “I’m good with massages. You mind?”
I shrugged. “Go ahead.”
I closed my eyes, and when his hands rested on my shoulders, warmth penetrating the cloth of my t-shirt, I flinched a little. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Man, you’re really tense.” He kneaded my shoulders, his hands strong and gentle at the same time, causing me to seemingly sink into the wooden chair.
“That’s it. See, you’re relaxing already.”
I let my head loll forward. “Yeah…”
He massaged my shoulders another minute before gently pushing against my back, encouraging me to lean forward, and then used his thumbs to rub circles into my back. I sighed softly. His hands did feel good, very good, so when he lifted my shirt and his warm hands met my flesh, I didn’t protest. I just rested my arms on the table and my head on my arms as he continued rubbing circles into my skin. Then I felt his lips on my back.
I sat up straight, stiffening my posture. Standing from the chair, I turned to face him. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to make you feel good. Don’t you wanna feel good, Angela? Don’t you want me to make you feel good?” he asked in a huskier version of that voice that made me melt. His eyes were glued to mine in an intense stare. I saw the desire there, and once again, felt heat and moisture rush between my legs. I was throbbing down there. It had been so long…
“What are you talking about?” I only said that because I honestly couldn’t think of anything else to say, laced my words with anger because I was mad at myself for absolutely wanting him to make me feel good.
He reached down and pushed the chair away, closing the space between us so that my face was only centimeters from his chest. “You don’t know what I’m talking about? You sure?” He lowered his head so that his lips just barely touched mine. A tiny sound escaped my mouth before I clamped it shut.
It’s been so long.
Too long.
Three years…
“I…I…Mr. Boyé, I don’t think—”
“But you are thinking. That’s the problem.” He cupped my face in his hands and locked his eyes on mine. “You need to stop thinking so damn much.”
His mouth covered mine before I could utter another word, his tongue sliding across my lips. I responded by opening my mouth and welcoming it inside. His tongue caressed mine, my face still in his strong hands. Then he moved his hands to my shoulders and my arms before they left my body for a moment and then found my back, where he eased them under my shirt and rubbed them up and down my warm flesh, sending ripples of deep yearning through me, moaning into my mouth and making my mind race almost as wildly as my heart.
His hands slid down to my ass, gripping it as he turned his head and deepened the kiss. A moment later, his lips left mine, and he whispered, “You taste so sweet.”
My answer was to close my eyes, lean in, and kiss him, wrapping my arms around him, expecting him to wrap his around me. Instead, I felt him grasp both sides of my waist and lift me onto the table, our mouths still connected. My eyes popped open, but closed again as he continued to kiss my breath away. Then one of his hands returned to my body, sliding into the front of my jogging pants, into my panties…to my naked core.
I gasped as he began to caress my clit with expert precision. Our tongues were still intermingled as I grabbed his shirt and screamed into his mouth. Two long-term relationships equaling a combined total of eleven years, and I had never, ever felt anything so intense, so terrifyingly, uncontrollably good. With every stroke of his finger, it felt as if he was unraveling a strand of my sanity and I feared when he was finished with me, I’d be completely undone.
But I couldn’t stop him.
I didn’t want to.
I wanted to ride this wave of ecstasy to the end. I wanted the swell of pressure inside of me to be released. But conversely, I wanted the tension to continue building forever, because it felt so unbelievably good.
He slid a finger inside of me. This time I managed to reclaim my mouth and screamed out loud. I looked up at the
intensity in his gaze and buried my face in his chest. “Ryan...Ryan...Ryan,” I muttered. Then finally, I exploded, shuddering as I held onto him for dear life. I leaned into him, breathing heaving breaths, heard him say, “I’m sorry.”
I looked up and into his eyes to see that the expression on his face had transformed from one shadowed with lust to one covered in embarrassment, as if he hadn’t meant for things to go this far. Relief flooded me. I wanted him, but knew we were headed somewhere I wasn’t quite ready to go just yet. Not yet. Not with him or anyone else. But the relief didn’t temper the heat and desire that coated every part of my body.
I was sated and satisfied, thanks to him. I didn’t need him, but I damn sure wanted him.
“I-I’m sorry. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry,” he said.
I shook my head and began sliding down from the table. As he grabbed my hand to help me, I said, “It’s okay. I’ll…I’ll just go.”
He gave me a look that told me he wanted me to go almost as much as he wanted me to stay. “I really don’t want you to go,” he said, as he reached up and dragged his hand over his face. He looked downright confused, like he wasn’t quite sure what to say or how to feel.
“It’s all right, really. Rain check on the pizza?” I offered him a smile.
He nodded, said, “Okay,” and then walked me to my door. I made my way to my bedroom on weak legs and collapsed into bed, not giving a second thought to the fact that I’d had no dinner.
11
Something was seriously wrong with me.
It was like my mind was slipping away from me, and I couldn’t figure out how to get it back to normal. I just didn’t do shit like the stuff I’d been doing. Shit like, blasting music and putting my own mail in her mailbox. Crazy, stalker, high school, stupid-ass kid shit, but I needed to get her attention even if I had no idea why. The thing is, I was desperate that night I blasted the music. Hell, I didn’t even like the damn song. I had sat on my couch all night thinking about her, got turned on, and after I knew she was home, couldn’t think of anything but getting her to come over. My plan was to convince her to come in, but she was mad as hell and rightfully so. That, plus the fact that some of my common sense kicked in made me make up that story and let her go.
The mail thing? I don’t even know where that came from other than it was a convenient way to get her over to my place again, but that almost didn’t work, wouldn’t have worked if I hadn’t been watching for her. And once I got her right where I wanted her, my damn conscience, a part of me that I didn’t even know existed, started knocking me upside my head, telling me it was wrong to play with her. Well, actually, playing with her, or rather pleasing her, felt good and right. It was her reaction to it that messed my head up—the way she gasped, screamed, hid her face in my chest. It all turned me on, but it also told me she’d never been pleased like that before and that it would’ve been wrong to take things further under those pretenses. As much as it pained me to admit it, I fully realized that Angela Strickland wasn’t someone to be used. She deserved more. I wanted to give her more. I wanted to get to know her, court her. I wanted her to get to know me, too. And then, I could have her, really have her.
Shit, none of this made any sense and I had no idea where these thoughts and feelings were coming from.
I was seriously losing it.
I adjusted in my seat at the table as I recalled her sticky heat, how good my fingers felt inside of her. I was looking at the franchisee sitting across the table from me, but not focused on her words. This business lunch was being preempted by Angela Strickland, and she wasn’t even there in the flesh, but the sights, sounds, scents, and sensations associated with her were present in force, taking over the meeting.
“What do you think, Ryan?” the franchisee asked.
I stared at her for a second before saying, “Audrey, will you excuse me for a moment?”
She frowned slightly, nodded, and said, “Sure.”
I first headed to the restroom, then changed my mind and stepped outside the restaurant where I scrolled through my phone until I found her number.
“Hello?”
I held the phone for a second as my heart jumped at the sound of her voice. That never happened. What was she doing to me?
“Hello? Mr. Boyé?”
“You know you can call me Ryan. You did last night.”
Silence.
Shit, wrong approach.
“Um…yeah, I did, didn’t I?” she admitted.
“Yeah, look…I wanted to apologize again for the way I acted last night. I’m, uh, I like you.” I was losing more and more player points by the second!
“It’s all right, really. I…enjoyed it.”
There went my dick. Hard as a damn rock. “Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Angela—It’s okay to call you Angela?”
“Sure, since you’ve already called me that several times.”
“Sorry about that, too.”
“No worries.”
“Angela, would you like to go out with me, like on a date? I’d like to get to know you, really get to know you.”
After a few seconds of silence, she said, “I’d love to, but I don’t think we should do that.”
What?
“I like to keep business separate from my social life, and since you’re my tenant, you’re business to me.”
The fuck?!
She was curving me? ME? That shit never happened. NEVER!
“I’m sorry I let things go so far last night, but I am attracted to you. I can’t deny that,” she continued.
I finally found my voice, and said, “Wow, okay. I guess I’ll see you around then.”
“I’m sorry…”
“No need to apologize. You’re right. Mixing business and pleasure never works out. So, I’ll let you go. Won’t bother you again.”
“Ryan—”
I hung up. I wasn’t trying to hear another damn word. I headed back to the table, and this time, gave the middle-aged woman my full attention. “You were saying?”
12
I wasn’t looking forward to pretending we were one big happy family or acting like my parents’ marriage was something to celebrate, but it was what it was. I’d cooked up all this food, even made a German chocolate cake as an added bonus that morning, and I wasn’t going to let it all go to waste. I’d just do what I always did, paste on a smile and pretend I was happy to be there. I’d pretend we were the damn Huxtables to make my mom happy. She deserved to be happy.
Staring at the foil pans crowding my kitchen counter, I sighed and tried to erase the images of Ryan Boyé’s intense stare from my mind along with the intense pleasure he gave my body. I didn’t get what Nicky had said at first, but there was definitely a distinct difference between pleasing one’s self, and being touched in that way by a man, especially a man as magnetic and beautiful as Ryan. Just the realization that it was his hand touching me had nearly driven me insane. The men of my past had touched me before, but not like that.
Not like that.
I fell into one of my kitchen chairs, fanned myself with my hand, and thought about how hard it had been to reject him, but it was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Of course it was. We wouldn’t work out. We couldn’t, could we? He seemed nice and everything, but there was that I-only-fall-for-assholes thing. Plus, he was only in town temporarily, and besides, I was supposed to be having fun, not even thinking about relationships. But the way I felt about him, the way he made me feel, a relationship would happen, because once we got together, I already knew I wouldn’t be able to let him go. There was no way I would.
My doorbell rang, quickly pulling me from thoughts of Ryan, and when I answered the door, a huge smile sprung onto my face. “Damon!”
He grinned, leaning over to hug me. “Hey, Angie!”
He followed me into my apartment, and we both sat down. Damon Davis had basically grown up with me and Nicky. He and Nicky were classmates and bes
t friends, and he hung around our house so much, he became like a little brother to me. He was so sweet and shy, I first thought he might’ve been gay, but it didn’t take long for me to see that he had a crush on Nicky. I’m not sure if she ever realized it, though. Back then, he was lanky and awkward, but the person before me was muscular, tall, and had matured into a strikingly handsome man. Ten years had passed since I’d last seen him, and boy had they done him good!
“What a nice surprise! I haven’t seen you in…forever!”
He nodded as he scooted to the edge of my accent chair, rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “Yeah, not since I went off to the Navy.”
“You still in service?”
He shook his head. “Nah, been out for a couple of years now. Been living in South Korea, teaching English.”
“Wow! I remember how into Asian culture you always were.”
“Yeah, I love living over there.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You married yet, or are you still waiting on my sister?”
He chuckled. “I’m actually living with a girl from here in the states. She’s a YouTuber like you. Ever heard of Missy Mae?”
“Yeah! I catch her videos from time to time. She’s so cute and funny.”
“She is. She’s how I found out about your videos. She was watching one and I was like, ‘Hey, that’s my big sister!’ And then I had to explain that we’re not really related.”
“But you’re still my brother.”
“Yeah…”
“Man, you caught me just as I was getting ready to head to my parents’ house. It’s their anniversary and guess who’s providing the food?”
“I know it’s you, because if I recall correctly, you were always the best cook in the house, hands down!”
I laughed. “Yeah. I’ve got a ton of food to load into my car.”
“Let me help.”
“Okay. Hey, you should drop by tonight. I know my mom would love to see you. We’re pretty much just having holiday food.”
“Man! I just might do that!”
Stay with Me (Strickland Sisters Book 1) Page 6