He looked down at my legs. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“I think so. My ankle is hurting.” I tried taking another step and I whimpered. The pain was even worse than before. With a loud sigh, Ryan swept me into his strong arms. My breath hitched. “What are you doing?”
“My apartment is right there.” Walking, he jerked his chin ahead. “We’re gonna sit down and see what happened to your foot.”
“No, it’s okay,” I protested. “Just … help me to Rachel’s car. I’ll text her and she’ll take me home.”
“We’re already here,” he said, walking us past his closed garage. He went up the stairs and paused in front of the door. “Hold on to me.”
“W-what?”
“Just hold on to me, please?”
Wary, I wound my arms around his neck. The arm supporting my back dropped, and he fished his keys from his pocket. As if he did this every day, he unlocked the door without looking, and carried me inside. He kicked the door closed and deposited me on the couch.
In the same rhythm, Ryan got an ice pack from his fridge then sat beside me. With gentle hands, he put my foot on his leg. Because I was wearing a dress and didn’t want to flash him, I grabbed a pillow and placed it on my lap. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.
Ryan moved my foot from one side to another, and I hissed.
“It’s swelling,” he said. “But I think you only twisted it, nothing major.” He placed the ice pack on my ankle.
At first, the coldness shocked me, but in seconds, it began soothing the pain.
His eyes met mine, something hard and raw written in them. “What were you thinking?”
“About?”
“Letting Caryn get to you like that. Reacting to the bullshit she said.”
Shrugging, I averted my eyes. “Maybe I can blame the tequila.”
“Even so. You shouldn’t give her the time of day.”
I returned my eyes to his. “You do.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, you don’t get to do that.” He held my foot a couple of inches up and shifted on the couch, turning his torso to face me before depositing my foot back in his lap. “Don’t insinuate something and then shut up. Talk to me, Jess.”
Talk about what? About how Caryn was right? About how it hurt to see them talking and standing close together? About how I was leaving soon, and she would stay here to take care of him? Disgust rolled in my stomach.
“Were you jealous I was talking to Caryn at the bar?”
“W-what? Of course not!”
“We weren’t actually talking, Jess. We were—”
“I don’t want to know.”
“—acting like our usual selves. She bothers me. I try to let her down nicely, but she pushes it until I snap. Still she comes back. I think she’s a masochist.”
It was too good to be true, but how would I know if he was telling me the truth? Besides, it didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. As I kept reminding myself, I was leaving and he was staying.
I slid my leg from his lap and put my foot on the ground. Pain shot up my muscles. Shit. How would I walk away from here? I grabbed my pumps—one had a broken heel, great—in one hand and my cell phone in another.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asked, leaning forward.
“I should go,” I whispered.
His warm hand touched my arm and I shivered. “Stay. Just for a while longer.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Just hear me out,” he said, his tone almost pleading. I looked at him. “I need to say thank you. Thank you for helping at the site, for bringing others who also helped a lot. Thank you for taking me to see Brody. Thank you for calling John.”
“I … You’re welcome.”
“Jess, I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m glad you came back, even for a short while. I’m glad we were able to heal, like you said. To find closure.” He ran his hand through his hair. “There’s one thing you should know before you go.”
“What?”
“When we started flirting, that trip was already scheduled, but I had forgotten about it. You made me forget about it. I … I don’t know how to explain. I had never experienced anything like what I did with you. It was like you could see the good in me, and you also knew my flaws, but you were willing to help me out, to wait for me to come around. I had no idea how much I had fallen for you until that night.”
I scooted to the edge of the couch. “I’m not sure I want to hear this.”
“By then it was time for the trip and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. I even told you that, but you insisted I go.”
“You’re gonna say it’s my fault now?”
“No, not at all. The guys were giving me a hard time, but it was my fault. I went on the trip, dead set on behaving, on having a good time, but I wasn’t going to sleep with anyone. I was just there to have fun with the guys. But it wasn’t fun. It was torture. The guys pushed alcohol on me, and the girls sneaked into my tent at night.”
“Please stop.”
“No, hear me out. Whenever they came into my tent, I left. I drank, yes, but I didn’t sleep with anyone.”
My eyes went wide. “W-what?”
“I didn’t sleep with anyone.”
“But Caryn … and the pictures? She showed me a picture of the two of you on a mattress.”
“She sneaked into my tent when I was sleeping and lay beside me. I woke up to the flashes of her camera. She was able to take a few more before I was fully awake and sent her away.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was trying to, but then your father overheard us, and …”
I shut my eyes and shook my head. “I can’t believe you let me think you had slept with Caryn for so long.”
“Like I said before, I tried calling you, but I couldn’t seem to find a way of reaching you. It was like you had disappeared off the face of the Earth.”
“You didn’t sleep with Caryn that weekend,” I whispered, trying to absorb the information.
He shook his head. “I didn’t sleep with Caryn. Not that weekend or after.”
I bit my lip, but the words came out anyway. “But you did before me?”
A knot appeared over his pained eyes. “Yes, but it was months before you.”
I stared at him. That last bit of info hurt, but I tried focusing on what mattered. He hadn’t slept with Caryn that weekend. He hadn’t cheated on me. Oh my God. Everything we went through was because I thought he had cheated on me, because I thought he didn’t care about me.
A sense of longing filled me and I knew this moment was our closure—and we had to make the best of it.
I let the bit of alcohol in my veins take over before I chickened out, and I knelt on the cushion. I placed my hands on his shoulders, pushed him back against the couch, and straddled him. His eyes went wide and his mouth parted, but the shock didn’t stop his hands from closing around my waist. My dress rode up as I adjusted myself, pressing my pelvis against his, all the while staring into his eyes, loving how the surprise in them morphed into lust.
“Jess,” Ryan whispered. “What about your boyfriend?”
I let my hands run over his taut biceps. “There’s no boyfriend.”
His eyes bugged again. “No boyfriend?”
“Nope. There never was one.”
His shocked expression changed back to lust, propelling me. I leaned into him and brushed my lips on his. So soft, so warm. His eyes fluttered closed and he moaned. He slid one of his hands up my back and clasped my nape, holding me close. Then he crashed his mouth against mine, claiming my every breath. His soft lips moved in a sensual, almost frantic rhythm, and his tongue provoked mine, making me moan. His hand on my waist snaked to the small of my back, pressing my breasts against his chest.
Swimming in desire, I rolled my hips, increasing the friction between us. He broke the kiss and drew in a sharp breath.
I took advantage of that pause to tug his sh
irt up. He helped me take it off, and then his hands were around my back, looking for my dress’s zipper, while I skimmed my fingers over the tattoos on his toned pecs and abdomen. Damn, he was ripped, much more than four years ago, and I loved it. Under the tattoos on his chest, I could see the faint scars from the accident. I let my fingertips graze over the long, thin lines—a shiver rolled down Ryan’s body. I stared into his eyes, hoping he could tell I was okay with them. They were a part of him now. They made him even more special to me.
He leaned into me and his mouth found my neck. He grazed his tongue on my skin, making me shiver, while he undid my zipper. He leaned back to pull my dress over my head, and stayed there. Eager to touch him, to taste him, I bent closer, reaching for him, but he grasped my upper arms and held me back.
“Let me look at you,” Ryan said. His husky, thick voice wrapped around me, making me shiver. I was self-conscious and excited by the way his gaze skimmed my body. It was as if he was devouring every inch of me with his eyes. His fingertips traced the cup of my bra from the middle of my chest, up the strand to my shoulder. That simple, fluttering touch ignited my skin, sending waves of want to all my nerve endings, and I shivered again.
I loved the way he looked at me.
Somewhere in my hazy mind, I thanked my good sense for having chosen a matching black lace strapless bra and panties to go with my dress.
“That’s hot,” he said. The corners of his lips curled up as he reached behind me and undid the clasp of my bra. He drew in a breath as his eyes scanned my body. “Fuck, Jess, you’re so beautiful.”
Finally, he reached for me, hooking an arm around my waist and clasping one of my breasts with his free hand. He lowered his face to my chest and fitted his mouth on my other breast. His tongue lapped one nipple while he pinched the other, making me cry out. Heat rushed through my body, settling between my thighs.
Oh, he was making me crazy, but I would make him crazy too.
With some jiggling, I undid the button and zipper of his jeans and slid my hand under his boxers. He groaned, nipping at my breast. I closed my hand around his length and squeezed, moving my hand up and down.
“Oh shit,” Ryan muttered against my skin.
Before I knew what was happening, Ryan had laid me on his couch. With his eyes on mine, he slipped off his boots and jeans, and then covered me with his body. I moaned, loving how warm his skin felt, how wonderful his weight on me was. But it didn’t last. His mouth found my neck, and slowly, his lips and tongue tortured my skin from my collarbone, down my breasts and belly, to my thighs, leaving a trace of heat and desire.
He slid off my panties before parting my legs. Anticipation clutched my stomach, and I felt like I would explode before he even touched me. He lowered his face to me and I held my breath. His tongue teased my inner thigh, making me jump with each lash.
“Ryan, please,” I whispered. How could he tease me now? “Please.”
Finally, his tongue flickered over my clit. I cried, arching my back. He swirled his tongue around my sensitive spot, and his finger teased my entrance. Tension built inside me. I wouldn’t last long like this. Neither did I want to. I knotted my fingers in his hair as he sucked my clit and slid a finger inside me.
“Oh, God,” I cried.
Ryan slipped a second finger inside me and thrust them deep before curling them, hitting the perfect spot. He repeated the movement a few more times, and when he increased the pressure of his tongue on my clit, I stilled for a brief second.
“Ryan,” I cried. The ecstasy hit me hard and I trembled, completely undone.
Slowly, I came down from cloud nine. Ryan stood beside me, watching me. Desire burned in his eyes. It was unbelievable how much I enjoyed seeing him like this. Almost as undone as I was. It was delicious. Exciting.
He caught me in his arms and carried me to his bed. Without taking his heated eyes from mine, he laid me in the center of his mattress. He took off his boxers and I swallowed, admiring his ripped, hard body. I wanted to ask him to stand there for a minute so I could admire him too, but I also didn’t want to wait. I needed him. Now.
As if hearing my thoughts, Ryan didn’t waste time. He grabbed a condom from the nightstand and crawled over me. His mouth found mine, and he kissed me. His lips molded to mine, fitting perfectly. God, it was so good, I could kiss him forever.
He pulled back and ripped the foil package. Feeling bold, I caught the condom from him—he arched a brow at me—and I rolled it over him, drawing a sharp inhale from him.
His lips tugged up and he lay over me again, his eyes never leaving mine. Slowly, he slid inside me and I gasped, shocked and amazed at how much he filled me, how good it was. And he hadn’t even started moving yet.
Ryan lowering his head to my neck, and then buried himself deep inside me before he stopped. With a grunt, he nipped my neck. This stillness, this fullness, this heat, all of it was killing me. I couldn’t take it anymore. I rolled my hips. With another grunt, Ryan took the hint and started moving.
He dragged his lips up my neck and jaw, until they were back to my mouth. He kissed me as slowly and deeply as he moved, and it felt like hell and heaven rolled into one. Torture and pleasure, and a sense that I would explode and die at any second.
But I wanted more. I wanted so much more. I wanted everything from him.
I bit his lower lip and dug my nails into his hard ass, pushing him against me.
He pulled back and raised an eyebrow at me, a wicked glint in his hazel eyes. “What do you want?” he rasped, his voice heavy.
To tease me, he slowed even more. I groaned.
“Say it,” he commanded.
Then he stopped moving all together.
“What the hell?” I cried.
He chuckled. “Tell me what you want.”
Oh, I wouldn’t tell him; I would show him.
With a wicked grin, I pushed him back and flipped us around. His back hit the mattress and I straddled him, lowering myself to take him in as deep as humanly possible.
He hissed, his eyes traveling up my body. “I think I like this view.”
“This is what I want,” I whispered.
Then I started moving, up and down, up and down, as hard and fast as I could. His hands clutched my waist and he held on to me, cursing under his breath. After a few moments, he lifted his hips, joining me in this sweet torture.
I leaned over him, changing the friction a little, and Ryan reached up, cupping my breasts. He squeezed, pinched, and teased. Too many feelings and emotions swirled in my chest, in my stomach, in my legs … everywhere. My blood was boiling, and I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. By the way Ryan clutched me, his concentration at every stroke and touch, I knew it wouldn’t be long for him too.
God, this was something else. Our first time had been awkward, at least for me. And a little painful. I remembered feeling sore the next morning, knowing it would pass when Ryan and I had sex again. But that never happened.
After him, I had two one-night stands, then Gavin—but it wasn’t the same. The feeling wasn’t there. I didn’t really like them. I had just been looking for a quick release and nothing else.
This—here with Ryan, in his bed, with his hands all over me and his eyes filled with desire—was different. This was perfect. This was too much.
I was about to let go when Ryan withdrew his hands from my body and knotted them behind his head. “Time to admire the view again,” he said.
I wanted to enjoy the view too. My eyes traveled his taut arms, the muscles even more prominent in this position—damn, he was so, so hot—until I spotted a tattoo on the underside of his triceps. My mouth fell open and I stopped moving.
It was a “J” surrounded by roses forming a stylized heart.
Could it—? Was it—?
Before I could process what I saw and ask him about it, Ryan sat up, circled his arms around me, and rolled us over again.
He pressed his body to mine. “My turn again.”
This time
, though, he didn’t go slowly. Oh no. He thrust into me even harder and faster than when I was on top, and to torture me more, he slid a hand between us and rolled my clit between his fingers.
This was it. Ryan was the one I always wanted, and the one I could—would—never have.
Yet, here we were.
Surrendering. Relishing. Possessing. Drowning in each other. One last time.
The perfect closure.
Stars burst behind my eyelids, and my body shook uncontrollably. Six seconds later, Ryan’s quavering body lay limp over mine.
As our aftershocks withered, he kissed me again. Slow and deep this time. And maybe it was just me, but I could feel it through his lips, through his tongue, and in his gentle touch. The caring. The longing. The satisfaction.
With a smile, Ryan broke the kiss. “Be right back,” he said.
He rolled off me and I instantly grew cold, missing the contact of his warm skin. He stood and marched to the bathroom. I couldn’t help but gawk at his exuberant form, my body instantly heating up again, even though my mind was on the verge of a freak out.
I tried compartmentalizing what had happened, but it was too much. My mind wanted to analyze it instead. It was as if my brain had downloaded too much information and couldn’t process it all at once. Although, instead of information, it was emotion. Pure emotion.
Satisfaction. Shock. Lust. Sadness. Happiness. Longing. Love.
Love.
My throat closed up and I fought back tears.
Rachel was right. I still loved him.
In less than thirty seconds, Ryan exited the bathroom, and I closed my eyes, pretending I was sleeping.
It was easier than facing him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ryan
Jessica’s scent enveloped me and I smiled, still half-asleep. I rolled to my side, reaching for her, but found her side of the bed empty.
“Jess?” I called, propping myself on my elbows and looking around my loft. She was nowhere to be seen. I glanced at the bathroom door; it was open. I sat up and looked around, where I remembered I tossed her shoes, her dress, and her panties. There was nothing of hers in my apartment. “Shit.”
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