Ryan searches my face for some clue as to what I am thinking. His breath is hot on my face, and his scent overtakes all my senses. I know where this is leading. I don’t want to be another cliché at the office. I don’t want to be another notch in his belt. Can I even handle this? Do I even have the power to stop him? Do I want to stop him? Too many questions.
Ryan leans in and presses his lips to mine, and my hands instantly go into his hair, reciprocating his desire. He reacts by pulling me into a tight embrace.
I protest and pull back from his tender kiss. “Ryan, please don’t,” I whisper. “I can’t risk my job. I can’t go back to Georgia.”
He looks at me cautiously. “Whitney, don’t make this complicated.”
“Complicated?” I laugh. “I think we trumped complicated thirty minutes ago.”
He nervously says, “True story.”
“But technically, you are my boss, remember?” I plead with him, hoping he will stop so I don’t have to make this decision.
Ryan huffs, “Last time I checked, you were bossing me around!”
I laugh. “No, I’m just your fucking babysitter, remember!” I say sarcastically.
Ryan shakes his head while a look of deep regret washes over his face. What is that about? His mood swings are making me nuts.
Then suddenly our light moment turns serious again as Ryan pleads with me, “I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you. You are not like any of the others.”
I shake my head at the thought of “others,” celebrities and supermodels. I definitely don’t fit that bill. So, why me? I look down, fighting back more tears. His words are sincere. I believe him, but I am torn because I know this is wrong. And I know it has a high probability of ending badly. My entire life has been spent making the best choices to make everyone else happy, but right now, I couldn’t give a shit less what is right. I am lost in this moment. It feels so right, and all I want right now is… for Ryan to make love to me.
Ryan can tell by my actions that I am in deep thought. He softly says, “Don’t overthink this.”
With my tears successfully fought, I look at him with anticipation and don’t offer another protest. With that, he pulls me in close to him, wraps my legs around his back, and gently lifts me off my kitchen counter. I am breathless from his dramatic, intimate gesture. For once in my life, I want to enjoy whatever is about to happen. I don’t know if Ryan wants one hour or one night from me. I don’t care, and to hell with the aftermath. I will deal with the consequences later. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his shoulder as he carries me down the hall to my bedroom.
Ryan enters my bedroom and attempts to lay me down on top of the bed, not bothering with the duvet. I keep my legs wrapped around him tightly, which forces him down onto the bed with me, letting him know that I want him too. I run my hands through his hair, and the dam breaks. Ryan kisses me with intense passion that leads to a desperate need. He is right. There is something about us. I felt it from that moment he jumped into the elevator with me. I was attracted to him then, but this desperate need for another person is different for me too. Suddenly, I want to be as close to him as I can be.
Our clothes fly off, and our bodies began to move together. I no longer want to stop him. I want this passion to swallow me up, then drown me in the pleasure that I feel with Ryan. I want to totally experience this intense connection and not think about the repercussions of my actions for once in my life.
Ryan rises up, pulls back slowly, and looks me in the eye. “Are you sure, Whitney?”
I nod.
“I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do. I want you so bad, but I will wait if I have to.”
I nod again, pained by his confession. Then I whisper, “Stop talking. I want you. I need you.” I flush with embarrassment at my words. This is so unlike me to be direct, especially in this setting.
With those words, Ryan gently enters my body, wrapping my legs around his back. “God almighty!” he exclaims with raw emotion as he starts to move.
Our bodies pick up an enticing and strangely choreographed rhythm, like they were made for each other. I am lost. There is no first-time awkwardness. I feel my body building and escalating until it explodes gloriously into a million pieces. My body convulses with pleasure as he releases into me and buries his head in my neck.
We lay together, sticky and sweaty. I am wrapped tightly around his body, not wanting there to be an inch that separates us. What’s done is done. I know whatever the aftermath is, I will deal with it, but I am not going to think about that now. Ryan shifts under me, and I raise my head to him.
“Am I hurting you?”
He smiles shyly back at me and whispers, “No,” then pulls me in closer so that I am lying across his body, tightly in his arms. I fight and fight, but I am overwhelmed by these events. I reluctantly drift off to sleep draped over the Ryan Carter.
* * *
I am awakened by Ryan’s movements. He shifts slightly and gently rolls me over to the side, and I feel him leave the bed. I look up, struggling for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, and watch as he moves slowly to gather his clothes and begins to dress. Dread pools in my stomach and makes me nauseous. He got what he came for, and now he is leaving. Oh God! This is so awkward!
I sit up in the bed quickly and unexpectedly, taking him by surprise. I grasp the sheet around my naked body even though the room is dark.
He smiles. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I am going to get something to eat.”
“You’re leaving?” I ask sleepily.
He moves swiftly back to my side and smiles that beautiful, glorious smile. “What I meant to say was…I am going to get us something to eat.” I feel a thousand pounds of relief release from stomach. He leans in and kisses me tenderly. “I will be right back,” Ryan whispers against my lips.
It must be at least midnight, if not later. I have no idea where he has gone to get food, but I suspect it is the late-night deli located in the apartment village. While he is gone, I shower again. I emerge from the shower minus the sweat and stickiness, but am amazed that I can still smell his scent on my skin. I find some suitable pajamas and steal a glance in my bathroom mirror. My hair is now even wilder than before! Gah!
Luckily, my straightening iron is still on and is smoking hot. I position myself on the counter in between the double vanity sinks and set out to tame my hair. I separate it into sections and begin to straighten each strand into submission. With every strand, I remember a different moment: his sincerity, his words, his hands all over my body, his breath on my neck.
I am lost in what I am doing dreaming about what just happened. I never knew I could have that type of physical connection with another person, especially one I despised up until a few hours ago. The electricity and the rush of being with Ryan is something I have never experienced.
Then my thoughts drift wayward to the consequences of what I have done. It was so worth it. I bat the negative thoughts away. I am rather enjoying my sexual instant replay, thank you very much!
I am almost done with my hair when I spy Ryan standing in the doorway of the bathroom watching me intently. I smile nervously, relieved to see him. How long has he been there? I wonder.
He walks into the bathroom and softly says, “You are so beautiful.” He turns me around on the counter so that I am facing him. “Every single inch of you.”
I am stunned at his statement. Mr. Pompous Ass has a romantic side. I lean in and kiss him affectionately.
Ryan pulls back from my kiss, leaving me bereft. “Come on. I’m starving.” He lifts me off my perch and into his arms. “What is it with you and counters?” he asks jokingly.
I laugh, “What is it with your need to carry me everywhere?”
Ryan rolls his eyes at me and automatically sets me down to the floor. We walk hand in hand to the living room, where he has set up a small pseudo picnic on my coffee table. Suddenly, I realize I am starving, too.
R
yan has, in fact, gone down to the deli, which is one of my favorite places to eat. He has brought back a variety of things like chicken salad, cheeses, and fresh-baked croissants. It all tastes heavenly.
While we eat, we talk. Ryan incessantly quizzes me about Georgia. I know what he wants to know about, but I delay on that subject. He continues to ask me questions about my family and my life growing up as if he is desperate to know me better. It’s heartwarming but confusing still. My head is swimming from what has transpired in the last few hours.
“Tell me…” Ryan trails off.
I shake my head. “Why? Why can’t you just let it go?”
Ryan shrugs at me. “I want to understand you, is all. You seem so strong. I mean no one has ever spoken to me the way you did that day in the boardroom, not even my own mother. But at the same time, or at times, I mean, you seem troubled. And that is hard for me to take.”
Hard for you? Ha! I lived it.
I sigh, “A mystery…there’s that word again.”
“No!” Ryan immediately cuts me off. “That is your word, not mine! Isn’t obvious to you by now that I care?”
I snort. “I have never been one to confuse sex with care or concern.”
Ryan rolls his eyes at my statement, but I can tell he is losing his patience with me.
“OK.” I acquiesce. “Look…it really isn’t a big deal. I’m trying to move past it all. That is why I don’t like to discuss it. But…I was engaged.”
Ryan’s eyes light up, surprised.
“Yes…and about two weeks before the wedding, I caught the bastard with the bitch formerly known as my best friend.”
“Damn!” Ryan exclaims as he whistles through his teeth. I raise my eyebrows at his outburst and open my mouth to speak, but he stops me before I can say another word. “Whatever you are going to say, don’t! I will be damned if you are going to compare me to him. I mean, you don’t even know me!”
I laugh out loud. “I know enough!”
The look on Ryan’s face begs me to continue, although I know I have already said too much. Conflicted, I begin again, “I just didn’t see it coming, you know? And what makes me the maddest is that I am smarter than that. All the signs were there. Brooke even tried to warn me, but I refused to believe it. I was angry at myself for being so…so stupid!”
Ryan watches me intently as I go on. I can now see the strain of concern on his face. It makes my confession easier.
“I mean, I let this asshole drag me around for years. I put my own career on hold, waiting on him to finish college and get his shit straight.” I point an aggravated stare to Ryan. “And then I find about them.”
My face burns as anger wells up inside my body, an emotion that I refuse to relive again. And I quickly remember myself.
“Why am I telling you all this?” It makes my stomach roll with nausea to think that I have divulged this information. I push my croissant back in disgust.
“I think you are being way too hard on yourself, Whitney.”
I laugh in mock abhorrence. “You don’t get it. I am from a small town, very small. And I would say, oh…about seventy-five percent of the people in the area knew what was going on, even my freaking wedding planner. The best part about it was I just ran away. I blocked their cell numbers from my phone and didn’t look back. I didn’t have the energy or the courage to deal with it.”
Ryan’s eyes widen in shock either at my outburst or confession, but I am not sure which. I put my head down in my hands.
“I was completely and utterly humiliated. I don’t take well to those emotions, as you already know. But here I am spilling my guts to you, and embarrassment is setting in all over again.” I pause. I can tell Ryan is conflicted because he sits still but doesn’t say a word, no doubt at a loss.
“How long ago did this happen?” he finally says after a brief but too long pause.
I sigh deeply. “Let’s see, about…five weeks ago.”
I watch Ryan intently for his response. His face falls as he says quietly, “Oh wow.”
“I would have run away in the middle of the night if it hadn’t been for my parents.”
Ryan nods as if he understands. Then, he shakes his head. “I didn’t realize…”
I shrug my shoulders. “We don’t exactly ‘talk.’ Besides, I wouldn’t have discussed it, ever, had you not dragged it out of me.”
Ryan eyes me warily like he has crossed some arbitrary line into Reboundsville. I continue to explain.
“The funny thing is that I was so over it, you know. I guess I had been over him, over our relationship, for a while now. I just didn’t know it. Because when I found out, my internal light bulb went off, and I was done.”
Ryan continues to sit in silence. It makes my skin crawl. What is he thinking?
“What’s that old saying? Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me? Well…I have let one asshole run me over, and I will be damned if I am ever going to let that happen again,” I exclaim as I stand up in defense.
“What do you mean by that?” Ryan snaps in reference to the asshole comment.
“You know full well what I mean, Ryan,” I retort.
I can see a look of hurt flash across his face as he says in a gritted whisper, “Stop it, Whitney. That is not fair.”
I sigh. “It’s six of one, and a half dozen of the other.” I add quickly, “Although, I am starting to alter my opinion of you, especially after the last few hours.” I smile wryly as I take the last bite of chicken salad from the plastic container. “Please don’t make me regret it.”
Ryan looks at me intently, like he is trying to figure me out while processing all the information I have just dumped on him. Then, he abruptly stands up and begins to clear our makeshift picnic. Before I can stand to help him, he is by my side again. He leans down and picks me up off the floor.
“Where are we going?” I question him even though I already know the answer.
“I am going to work on completely changing your opinion of me!”
I throw my head back and laugh as he carries me back into the bedroom.
Chapter 17
Ibound through airport security and step into my gate at Charlotte Douglas International Airport just as the attendant is giving the last boarding call for Louisville, Kentucky. I am getting good at this. I settle into my seat on the US Airways Express jet and think to myself, what a difference a few weeks make. I have never been far from the Georgia coastline, but within the last few weeks, I have become a seasoned traveler.
And then there’s Ryan. The same statement applies to him too. We have gone from wanting to strangle each other to making sweet love in my apartment. Well, all over my apartment is a better assessment. I smile as I remember our last round in my kitchen this morning as Ryan attempted to leave to make his own flight. It all happened so fast that now, sitting here on this plane bound for Kentucky, it doesn’t seem real. I shake my head at my thoughts because I still am mystified about the details.
I am broken from my reverie as the flight attendant goes through safety checks. As the plane begins to taxi down the runway, a pool of dread falls like lead into my stomach, and the graveness of my situation rolls over me like a black cloud. A lump wells up in my throat. What have I done?
Well, let’s see…Number one, I have violated company policy. Violated? No, I am sure there is a far worse term than “violated” to describe what Ryan and I did last night. My job is toast if anyone finds out. Number two, I have slept with the boss’s son, which directly coincides with number one, I know. It also qualifies for direct disappointment with Jerri. I don’t want to let her down. And number three, I am completely and utterly mortified at my behavior. This is so unlike me. I cannot believe I have crossed so many lines. This is bad.
A series of chills run down my spine as the plane ascends into the sky. I can’t think about all this now. I take my iPod out and secure my earbuds. Maybe some good music will drown out all these thoughts. I select songs on my iPod touch, the
n press shuffle. This should be good. She always has a sense of humor. The prelude begins as Sade sultrily warbles the jazzy words to “No Ordinary Love.” Yeah, well, no shit, Sade. I make a mental note to download some new music onto my iPod. I lay my head back and continue to listen as she sings to me the words that directly apply to my tryst with Ryan.
Shortly before noon, my plane touches down in Louisville. The track this week is actually in Sparta, Kentucky, which is only about an hour away from my present location. A courier is waiting for me in the airport arrivals, and we take off on Interstate 71 North with minimal chitchat. Instantly, I love Kentucky. The scenery is breathtaking as we journey into the little town of Sparta. Since the track is in a somewhat remote area, I am staying in a little bed-and-breakfast right across the state line of Indiana, but I won’t get to check in until Ryan’s qualifying and press events are over tonight.
My nerves start to build as we approach the track. I can see it looming in the distance. I realize that after last night, I don’t know how to do this job professionally anymore. I mean, we definitely crossed that line last night. How in the heck am I supposed to act with him? Professional, Whitney. That is how you act. But will the new feelings I have for Ryan show on my face? What if it is something I cannot hide? I know I can’t them hide from Brooke at all. She will be on to me in a flash. I am tormenting myself with this internal dialogue, and it is making me nauseous.
When we arrive to the infield area of the track, I take a deep breath to steel myself. I can do this. I will do this. I am dressed casually today in khaki pants and a Team GCR polo shirt and comfortable tennis shoes. My hair is down and loosely flowing over my shoulders, though I have secured a hair band around my wrist just in case it gets unmanageable. I set out to find Ryan’s hauler in the mass of vehicles in the infield area.
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