Stay with Me (Strickland Sisters Book 1)

by Alexandria House

  I hopped up and stood on my side of the bed. “What?!”

  “I’m not moving to Arizona as your girlfriend!”

  “Angie, what—” I stopped myself, realizing what was going on. “Ang, you wanna get married? Is that it?”

  She dropped her eyes. “I want security. There’s no security in being your girlfriend, Ryan.”

  “Baby, I don’t think I’m ready for that. This is my first real relationship. I’m not saying I’ll never propose, but I can’t right now.”

  She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I’m not trying to pressure you into anything you don’t wanna do, but I’m thirty, Ryan, and this is my third serious relationship. I spent years as someone’s girlfriend—six with one man, five with another—and each time, I was left alone with nothing to show for it. I can’t keep doing the same stupid stuff and ending up alone. You might not be ready, but I am. I’m more than ready.”

  I stepped around the bed. “So if I don’t propose, that’s it? We’re over?”

  “No! No, I love you Ryan. That hasn’t changed. You’re it for me. I guess we’ll just have to do the long-distance thing for a while.”

  I rested my hand on her cheek. “I don’t understand. If we’ll still be together, why stay here? Just come with me, baby. I’m not going to break up with you or cheat on you. I’m not those other guys.”

  “I know you’re not. But this is what I feel I have to do, Ryan. For me. I’m not going to be someone’s girlfriend for years again. If I go with you, I’m afraid that’s all I’ll ever be to you. I feel like I’m the one who’s making the sacrifice and I’m the one who stands to lose the most if we don’t work out.”

  I didn’t know what to say other than, “But…Angie, I don’t want to leave you. I need you with me.”

  “I know, and I need you, too. I just can’t go. Not like this.”

  I sighed. “Okay. Whatever you want.” I backed into the bed and sat down. “Angela, what did you expect me to do when I said I’d figure something out? There were only two options: me staying here or you coming with me. My job requires that I travel, so you coming with me makes the most sense.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…” Her tears fell then, a steady stream that she tried to wipe away before totally breaking down. “I don’t want to lose you, Ryan. But I just can’t do it.”

  Despite the fact that I was confused, hurt, and shit, even angry, my only thought was to make her feel better, so I pulled her to me, into my lap, and I held her in my arms and whispered in her ear, “You’re not going to lose me, baby. I love you. I’ll always love you. We can visit each other, talk on the phone, Skype, whatever. And when the time is right, we’ll be together again. Permanently.”

  “You promise?” she whimpered.

  “Yeah, baby. I promise.”

  *****

  I kind of dragged through the next couple of weeks in a haze. No matter how I tried to reason with myself that I hadn’t known Angela that long and that I could survive without her, this shit still hurt. The thought of being in Arizona, anywhere, without her, made my chest tighten. I went through the motions at work, went home and spent nearly every second I could holding her, loving her, trying to fill my mind with memories of her scent, her touch, the sound of her voice.

  This was hard, probably the hardest thing I’d ever done. It was easy to leave my dad and brother behind, because that was what I needed. Being around them was bringing me down after all the hard work I’d put in to make myself what I was—educated, successful. I had to get away from them. And yeah, I’d dumped women left and right without a second thought. But this? I didn’t want to do this. This was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted her. I needed her. And I was scared to damn death that once I left, I’d lose her for good.

  I had to wonder if this was my punishment for all the stuff I did to women before. Was this karma? If so, I guessed I deserved it, but that sure didn’t make it hurt any less.

  The day of the hotel’s opening, just three days before I was supposed to fly to Arizona, I stood around and smiled and shook hands as the CEO of Sable Inc., Derek Hill, praised me for a job well done. Mr. Hill was good people, so it was nice to get a compliment from him. Even my boss, Glenn, was in a good mood as I led them on a tour. I had done my job, and I’d done it well. Romey, Tennessee’s Sable Inn was beautiful, a perfect representation of the company, and while an accomplishment like this once would’ve brought me joy, at that moment as I led the gentlemen through the hotel, I felt miserable, like none of this mattered anymore because I was about to lose the only woman I had ever loved.

  “Can’t wait to see you work your magic in Arizona,” Glenn said. “You’ll have a lot more on your shoulders there. Are you ready?”

  I looked at him and nodded. “I’m always ready.”

  I thanked the ticket agent as I clutched my boarding pass in my hand and slung my carry-on bag over my shoulder. Angela was waiting for me off to the side with a look on her face that made my heart ache. She looked so…sad.

  I walked over to her, grasping her hand and kissing her on the cheek. “You okay?” I asked, as we walked toward the TSA checkpoint.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “You could still come with me.”

  A tear trickled down her cheek. “I know, but—”

  I looked away from her. “I know, baby. I wish I could stay. I…” I shook my head and stopped talking, because my grown-man-ass was tearing up. I wasn’t going out like that.

  I spotted a row of seats just to the right of the TSA area and led her to them. We both sat and kind of just stared at each other. Finally, I said, “Two weeks. Remember? It’ll take that long for me to get everything going. Then I can come back to see you. But I need to concentrate on the job for those two weeks.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  “And if you want, you can fly back with me for a few days.”

  “Okay.” She was sobbing now, so I pulled her to me and held her for as long as time would allow me.

  Then I pulled away. “I gotta go, Angie.”

  She sniffled, wiped her eyes, and said, “All right. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I said, wiping away the remnant of her tears.

  She walked me to the security checkpoint line and waved. I waved back, and turned away from her, felt like I couldn’t breathe for a second, and turned back around. When I saw her walking away, I panicked. Took off running behind her, yelling, “Angela! Wait!”

  She stopped, spun around, and waited for me. Once I reached her, I dropped my bag and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly to me, kissing her. At that moment, I realized just how much I loved her and knew I wouldn’t be any good without her.

  Thirty minutes later, I was on a plane to Arizona.

  Alone.

  42

  Ryan left on a Sunday. Nine days had passed since then, and I’d found it hard to do little more than lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling. It was hard to breathe without him, my heart literally ached, and I fully realized just how bad of a mistake I’d made by not going with him. At the time I made the decision to stay, it made perfect sense. I was standing up for myself, ensuring that I wouldn’t be used or taken advantage of like my mother and Renee. But in hindsight, that didn’t even make any sense. I was asking for marriage. They were both married, and being married hadn’t kept them from being hurt. Benny or Khalil marrying me most likely wouldn’t have changed the outcomes of our relationships. Because married or not, they still would’ve been Benny and Khalil. And neither of them had loved me, or if they had, they hadn’t loved me like Ryan did. Because he loved me from my heart to the depths of my soul, made me feel things I’d never felt. Took care of me emotionally. Was there for me in every way.

  Benny and Khalil never did any of that.

  Ever.

  And my ass just let Ryan go. I just let him go. Watched him get in that TSA line and didn’t stop him. Didn’t buy a ticket and go with him. And
as I sat in my bedroom preparing to have dinner with my mother and sisters that Tuesday night, the gravity of my decision had never been clearer.

  I had fucked up.

  I had totally and completely fucked up.

  And I wasn’t going to be able to last much longer without him.

  He had called me that morning before work, and we’d had a good conversation. Light, mostly carried by him talking about how nice his hotel room was in Arizona. He’d opted to stay in a residential inn rather than rent a place, because he said it just wouldn’t be the same without me.

  Shit.

  That made me want to cry, but I was able to keep it together until he informed me that he wouldn’t be coming to visit that weekend, the two-week mark of him being gone, because of work. He was swamped, sounded stressed, and apologized profusely, adding that it might be another week before he could visit, if not longer.

  If not longer.

  He sounded overwhelmed and tired, so I tried to sound upbeat, told him it was okay and that I understood, but he heard the subtle quiver in my voice and apologized again. Then I started full-on crying, hysterical, uncontrollable crying, and he tried to make me feel better, told me he loved me over and over again, reassured me that we’d see each other again soon.

  Soon.

  All I could think was how uncertain the word soon was, and my mind traveled back to when I was a little girl and would ask my mom when we would get to go to this place or that place and she would always say, “Soon.” More often than not, soon never came. His sincere, reassuring words didn’t even put a dent in my sorrow, but I eventually pulled myself together before an uncomfortable silence fell between us and we ended the call. Since he was working long hours in Arizona, I knew I probably wouldn’t hear from him again until the next morning. And that just felt too long.

  I was a mess after we hung up. Lay in bed crying, recalling how I had sat in my bed and watched him get dressed the day he left. That was something I did every morning after he basically began living with me. I’d sit in bed with a cup of something in my hand and watch him get dressed, wishing all the while he could just stay there with me, but the day he left for Arizona was different with a finality to it that nearly suffocated me. That feeling returned to me after our phone call ended, and I cried myself to sleep only to wake up cloaked in the same heavy despair. That weekend visit wasn’t going to be enough and I knew it. It was a temporary fix for a long-term problem—us being apart—but it was…something, something I had been looking forward to. Something that at least kept me from falling completely apart. And now that something had been delayed possibly indefinitely, and I felt like shit.

  I thought about hopping on a plane, going to him, and relieving both our miseries, but he was already under a lot of pressure and I knew the last thing he needed was me there distracting him.

  A text came through just as I was pumping myself up to put on my shoes and leave.

  Nicky: U on ur way? It’s like a funeral up in here with Mama and Nay. Hurry up!

  I sighed. I knew what she meant. Renee was still upset about being separated from Robert, although she knew it was what was best for her, and Mama had broken up with Lamar a few days earlier and hadn’t been in the best of moods since. This little dinner was Nicky’s idea, a way to lift their spirits. But she had no idea I’d been in seclusion since Ryan left or that my presence would probably only make things worse, because I was totally and completely miserable.

  Letting my hand hover over the screen of the phone for a moment, I replied: OMW

  I pulled on my shoes, grabbed a jacket, and headed toward the door. Dinner was to start at six. It was six-thirty, but at least I was managing to leave the house. That was a huge accomplishment for me considering my state of mind.

  I opened the door, digging in my oversized purse to be sure I had my phone, and when I looked up, standing before me was Ryan Boyé with his key in his hand and a smile on his face. “Hey, baby.”

  43

  I grabbed him and pulled him into my home, slammed the door shut and slammed him against the door.

  “Baby…” he said, his surprised eyes on me.

  I didn’t respond, just grabbed his royal blue Oxford shirt and pulled it out of his khakis, lifting it and rubbing my hands over his hard stomach, feeling it tremble a bit beneath my touch.

  “Baby, what are you doing?” he asked huskily, reaching for me, sinking a hand into my hair.

  My eyes met his as my hands slid up to his chest. “Trying to see if you’re real.”

  His eyes softened as he rested his hand on my cheek. “Yeah, baby. I’m real.”

  “And you’re here?”

  He lowered his head and brushed a gentle kiss against my lips. “I’m here.”

  I returned his kiss with a passionate one of my own, tasting his tongue as I reached down and grasped him through his pants. He moaned into my mouth and broke away from me, quickly spinning me around, pinning me to the door with his body. He buried his face in the back of my neck while gripping my ass, inching his hand under my butt and between the legs that I instantly spread for him, rubbing my yoni through the cloth of my pants.

  I moaned and slapped my hands against the door as he moved to the side of my neck and began sucking on my flesh. Reaching behind me, I grabbed the back of his head as his teeth grazed my skin with him rubbing me harder and harder between my legs. And then he moved his hand and pressed his erection against me, shifting his head to the other side of my neck, sucking on it. I reached behind myself again, this time resting my hand on his crotch, rubbing him through his pants.

  And then he was gone.

  His hands, his mouth, no longer touching me. The warmth of his body, missing. I spun around, frantic, afraid that it had really been a fantasy or my mind playing a trick on me. Maybe being thrust back into the loneliness that had been my existence before him, had fractured my mind and driven me insane.

  But there he was, stepping out of his pants, unbuttoning his shirt, and then…naked, reaching for me. I started unfastening my pants, but he moved closer to me, grabbing my hand and shaking his head. He gently pulled my plum-colored blouse from my pants, his eyes glued to mine as he ripped it open, sending buttons flying to the floor. Then, as roughly as he’d ripped it open, he tenderly slid the blouse down my arms, letting it fall to the floor as he leaned in and slid his tongue across my lips. He reached behind me and unfastened my bra with one hand, pulling it off me and freeing my breasts, then grabbed the front of my pants and pulled me closer, easing his hand into the back of them and grabbing a handful of my ass as he kissed me again, this time slipping his tongue into my mouth, hungrily devouring mine. I wrapped my arms around him, gripped his ass, and moaned when he snatched my pants open, breaking the closure and yanking them and my panties down over my butt. I kicked out of them as he backed away from me again.

  “Turn around,” he commanded.

  I did, standing there as he dragged his hand down my back, and said, “Bend over.”

  I looked around and was turning toward the couch when he said, “No, right there.”

  Desperately wanting to feel him inside me, I placed my hands on the floor and spread my legs, barely steadying myself before I felt him behind me, entering me swiftly. “Shit!” I screamed.

  He rubbed his hand across my ass as he slowly slid out of my wetness and quickly plunged back inside of me, repeating his thrusts at the same rhythm, eliciting whimpers from me as I braced myself, digging my fingernails into the carpet.

  “Angie, baby,” he murmured, his hands tightly gripping my hips as he drove into me.

  “Ryan!” I shouted.

  He stopped, wrapping an arm around my waist and lifting me from the floor while still inside me, backing both of us up to the couch. Sitting down, he held me in his lap and planted gentle kisses up and down my back as he reached around, his fingers finding my treasure. Spreading my legs for him, I leaned back against him, breathing heavily. “I missed you,” I muttered.

&
nbsp; “I missed you, too,” he mumbled against my back, using his free hand to grasp my breast. I wiggled my ass a little, and he moved his hands, allowing me to turn around and straddle him, using my hand to guide him inside of me as I flicked my tongue out of my mouth to meet his. I grinded slowly as he snaked his arms around me and pulled me closer to him, squeezing my breasts against his chest as he closed his eyes and threw his head back.

  “Damn, baby!” he shouted.

  I gyrated in his lap faster and faster, until I reached my peak, convulsing and releasing a moan as he held me to him, still inside of me. He lifted me from his body, lying me on the sofa and stretching his body over mine, consuming my mouth for a brief moment before kissing his way down my body, to my slippery core, dipping his tongue inside me to taste me before sliding it over my pearl, making me shudder and my weak legs tremble.

  “Ryan…” I whispered.

  He palmed my breast as he rolled his tongue over my clit, making me feel frenzied and out of control. I writhed beneath him, wondered if my heart could endure another orgasm so soon, and when I did climax, I screamed his name as his face met mine again and he glided inside of me while staring into my eyes. He buried himself deeper and deeper inside of me, his eyes fluttering open and closed as if he was in ecstasy.

  “Ryan…I love you so much.”

  He gazed down at me, those eyes of his peering into my soul as they often did. “Tell me again,” he said without missing a beat of lovemaking.

  “I love you, Ryan Boyé.”

  “Again…”

  “I love you.”

  “Again…”

  “I love you. I love you…”

  He smiled. “I love you, too, baby. More than I can ever show you.” He kissed me again, thrusting until he released, taking me with him and gifting me with a third orgasm.

  44

  Eight hours earlier…