by Nicole Casey
But as I opened the door and took a step out into the hall, I ran right into Ryan at full force. Colliding hard against his chest, my breath whooshed from my lungs and I stared dazedly up at him for one dumbfounded moment.
Caught off guard, I couldn’t think. All I could focus on was the desire blazing in his eyes and the heat of his body so close to mine. I had no idea what to do when his arms wrapped around me and pulled me even harder against his body. And my mind was still reeling when his lips swooped in and covered mine.
His kiss wasn’t gentle, but it made every nerve ending in my body tingle in anticipation. This wasn’t like the few, hopeful kisses I’d experienced before. There was no hesitancy in it, no question. He was a man who knew what he wanted, and right then he wanted me.
I realized at some point in the past few seconds, I’d wrapped my arms around him, and my fingers were grazing through the short hair at the base of his neck. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, but damn it, I wanted it like I’d never wanted anything before.
He pulled his lips away after a moment, and I almost whimpered at the loss, but he was back quickly, and this time his lips started a blazing trail of frantic kisses along my jaw, down my neck. By the time he reached my collarbone I was holding onto his neck in fear my knees would give out.
“I’ve wanted to touch you all day, Emma,” he said in between kisses. “You have no idea how difficult it’s been to keep my hands to myself.” As if to emphasize his point, his hands began to wander, grazing over my hips and up my ribs. When his hands moved higher and cupped my breasts, I couldn’t stop the quiet moan that slipped from my lips.
It was as if his hands knew exactly how to make my body respond, grazing back and forth across my nipples with just enough pressure to draw them into hard peaks instantly.
I slid my hands across his shoulders, feeling his muscles flex beneath my fingers as his mouth moved lower, kissing across the upper swells of my breasts. The thin fabric of my chenille sweater hampered any further descent, but it didn’t hinder him. He continued on, kissing my breasts through the fabric and toying with one nipple and then the other with his tongue.
“Ryan, I…” I didn’t know what to say, I only knew I never wanted him to stop. And I wanted him naked; I wanted to feel the bare flesh of his back, and his biceps, and everywhere else on his chiseled body.
“I know, Emma. I want it too. I want to strip you naked and kiss every inch of your body. I want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name,” he whispered ruggedly as a violent jolt of arousal surged through my body.
Abby’s scream sounded suddenly from down the hall and Ryan’s lips froze.
In a flash, we were both racing down toward her. He dashed into her room and I lingered back in the hall, not certain if I should go in as well, and happy to stay where I was to try to get the heat in my veins to cool to a low simmer.
“There was a monster, and it had humongous toes, daddy, and they were going to step on me!” Abby cried as Ryan gathered her up in his arms. I did my damnedest to focus on the situation at hand, and not think about how his arms had encircled me just a moment ago; how his lips had been blazing a fiery trail down my body.
“It’s OK, honey. I’m the only thing with big toes here, and I promise I won’t step on you,” Ryan soothed, stroking his daughter’s hair.
“Can I sleep in your bed tonight, daddy?” Abby asked, and I heard the heavy exhale of his breath as what had started in the hall just a few moments ago had been conclusively put on hold indefinitely.
“Of course you can,” he replied as he stood up, carrying the small child in his arms. He walked toward the door and smiled ruefully to me as he started down the hall to his bedroom.
I stayed where I was, still trying to get my pulse to slow to something that resembled normal. My heart beat so loudly I could hear blood whooshing past my ears, and everywhere he’d kissed still tingled as if it were humming with the anticipation of more.
But there would be no more. There wasn’t supposed to be any at all. I’d been all set to explain who I was—not for the first time today—and once again I’d been thwarted by my own irrational response to a man who I was now quite certain had been put on this earth to be a living, breathing advertisement for sex.
I breathed a heavy sigh, promising myself once again to set things to right come morning, and walked back to my room. I flopped back on my bed and proceeded to toss and turn, hour after hour. I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, about what could have happened if Abby hadn’t come to the rescue and put an abrupt halt to a horrendous mistake. And it was a mistake. Ryan was way out of my league; he was more than just experienced, he was an expert. He’d known exactly how to make my body respond, and that kind of knowledge could only have come from plenty of practice.
Groaning inwardly, I tried to force my mind to go blank, willing sleep to drag me under.
I awoke incrementally the next morning, at first only vaguely aware that the scene playing out in my mind was nothing more than a dream. But as I pulled myself upward toward consciousness, I was aware of another presence in close proximity. I could hear the quiet inhale and exhale of breath not far from me, and the slight movement that lightly jostled the mattress made me wonder if I was merely pulling myself from one dream into another.
“Wake up, Emma,” a little girl’s voice spoke, breaking the last remnants of the dream.
“Hey, kiddo,” I smiled sleepily, trying to pry my eyes open. “I don’t suppose I can talk you into crawling into bed with me and going back to sleep?”
A quick glance out the window told me Abby was either an early riser or else I’d slept through an entire day. The sky was a blue-black shroud of darkness, just the slightest hint of color peeking up over the horizon. It would be another hour still before the sky lightened enough that I’d consider calling it morning.
“You can’t go back to sleep Emma. We have too much to do today,” Abby said matter-of-factly.
“Oh? What’s on the agenda today, sweetheart?” I asked, giving up all hope of sleeping past five in the morning and sitting up slowly.
“It’s Tuesday. And that’s the day mommy always took me to the park. She called it ‘girl’ time,” she said more quietly than I’d heard her speak before. She was fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, making it clear she was uncertain—not something I’d seen often in Abby. “I don’t know why mommy called it ‘girl’ time though, ‘cause there were boys at the park too. But that’s ok. I didn’t mind them too much. So, I thought…I mean…if it’s OK with you Emma,” she stumbled over her words, eventually letting the thought trail off unfinished.
It wasn’t often Abby was without words. It reminded me that as well-adjusted as she seemed, that didn’t mean there were no underlying issues that would work their way to the surface over time.
“I would love to go with you to the park today, Abby. Thank you for inviting me.”
She beamed brightly, her normal exuberance breaking through, and she bounced off the bed. She came around the bed and started pulling on my arm. As much as I wanted to bury myself back underneath the covers, I couldn’t help but smile and I swung my legs over the side of the bed.
Before I’d stood up, she’d skipped across the room and was hurrying down the hall, no doubt to inform her father of today’s agenda.
Right, her father. Ryan. The walking advertisement for sex. After last night, facing Ryan was not how I wanted to start my day. It wasn’t like much had ended up happening, but it would have. I knew that. Though I’d decided against it, the moment I felt his arms close around me, I’d wanted it more than I could remember wanting anything in my life. But now, with time and distance between us, it was just as much a bad idea as it had been before it had started.
I dragged myself out of bed and somehow managed to pull myself together enough to make it through breakfast without making an utter fool of myself. Ryan didn’t say a word about last night, but every time I looked at him I could feel th
e heat in his gaze, and my traitorous body couldn’t help butrespond.
It was a relief when we left the house a half hour later, bound for a park a few blocks away. Although all three of us were in the vehicle, it was as if there was some unspoken agreement that nothing could happen so long as Abby was with us. I slowly began to relax as we followed her from one piece of equipment to the next, and I was almost feeling calm when Abby through the both of us for a loop.
“You’re not doing it right!” Abby shrieked at Ryan as he started to push her lightly on the swing. She leaped off the swing, running across the park and crouching beneath the slide.
Ryan stared after her, a stunned expression on his handsome face. It didn’t take me long to figure out what was going on. I knew I was about to overstep the line by a mile, but even though I’d been twenty years old when I lost my mother, I could relate to how Abby was feeling more than Ryan could.
He started forward, the expression on his face making it clear he was diving into unfamiliar territory, but I placed my hand against his chest.
“Ryan…let me,” I whispered, and I thought for a moment he might push right past me, but his shoulders slumped just a little then and he nodded.
I hurried after Abby, trying to make my step look as calm as possible, and I sat down on the grass next to the huddling little body. She wasn’t crying, but I could see the tears glistening in her eyes.
“Would you like to talk about your mother, Abby? It’s OK if you want to,” I tried to coach, without pushing.
“Me and mommy went to the park on Tuesdays,” she said in between sniffles, and then she was silent as if that was the end of the conversation.
“And what else, sweetheart?”
“Mommy was really busy. Mrs. Chester took care of me most of the time. But she was old, and she smelled like cheese. Mommy didn’t smell like cheese.”
I tried to ignore the fist that seemed to clench around my heart. Sadly, what Abby was saying helped to explain why she hadn’t appeared as traumatized by the loss of her mother as other children might seem. It sounded like the woman had spent little time with her daughter. And that made my heart ache doubly so for the child who had lost someone who should have been so prominent in her life…but wasn’t.
“My mommy smelled like lilacs,” I told her, smiling at the memory.
“Did your mommy die, too?” she asked.
“Yes. She died last year. I was away at college when she died so I hadn’t seen her very much, but I was very sad. Even when we don’t get to see our mommies much, it’s still sad when they’re gone, isn’t it?”
She sniffled and nodded, and then crawled out from beneath the slide and plopped down in my lap. I heard Ryan’s footsteps approach from behind seconds later, but he stopped a few feet away. I looked up at him and smiled, trying to let him know the crisis was over—at least for the moment.
5
Emma
The rest of the day passed without a hitch. Abby seemed to recover quickly, and before long she was back to her rambunctious and happy self.
It took a little longer for Ryan to recover from the ordeal, but that wasn’t surprising since this was all new to him. But by the time we returned to his car and he’d buckled Abby into her seat, I could feel the heat in his gaze when he turned back to me. I was so distracted by the sudden change that I wasn’t prepared for what came out of his mouth next.
“How did you know how to handle that?” he asked. It wasn’t suspicion in his tone, precisely, but I could tell by whatever it was that he knew there was a story behind it.
And this is what I’d wanted, wasn’t it? So, before I could get caught up in his piercing gaze, I blurted it out fast, “Ryan, I need to talk to you about something. It’s important, but I think we should wait until Abby’s in bed tonight.” There, I’d said it. Well, I’d said enough to commit myself to the conversation I should have had two days ago, and that would have to do for now.
He was silent for a moment, assessing me with eyes that seemed like they could see right inside my head. But then he nodded and opened the car door for me.
Unfortunately, since it was only nine in the morning by the time we’d finished with the park, I still had the entire day to keep playing the upcoming conversation in my head over and over again. I kept trying to figure out how he’d respond…what he’d say. In the end, though, it came back to one simple truth: it had been a little misunderstanding. How angry could he possibly be? And if I was wrong, and he was going to be angry about it, it was better that he decided to throw me out now. It would be worse later if Abby grew more attached to me. She would be the one to pay the price then.
But as I stood outside his office door, the task seemed substantially more daunting than it had during the umpteen times I’d reasoned and rationalized the little white lie. Of course, the task seemed more daunting at the moment primarily because of what had happened between us the night before. I was worried that I’d take one look at him and everything else would fall away, that the only thing I’d be able to think about was his mouth and his hands, and the way his lips had felt on my body.
I was stalling. I knew it. I’d been standing outside his door for nearly five minutes. Eventually, he was going to open the door, and I was either going to look like a fool or an eavesdropper.
So, mustering every bit of self-control in my possession, I knocked on the door, ignoring the way my hand was trembling, and I pushed it open when I heard his voice on the other side.
He was sitting at his desk and his eyes grazed over me from head to toe in a slow sweep. His gaze seemed to burn hotter with every inch, and if I hadn’t been trying desperately to avoid a repeat of the night before, I would have smiled to myself, relishing the ego boost.
He’d stood up without saying a word and came around the desk. It seemed increasingly difficult to find my voice the closer he came.
He didn’t stop until he was right in front of me, and even then, he didn’t pause for more than a second. And then his arms were around my waist, pulling me hard against his body. I opened my mouth to protest but no words came out. I knew this was a bad idea, but just like last night, I didn’t want to resist.
He swooped down then and captured my lips beneath his, surprising me with the ferocity of his kiss, even more, potent than it had been the night before. His tongue delved into my mouth, gliding against my own and I couldn’t help but abandon all rational thought. I moaned quietly at the sensation his kiss had sent coursing through my body, and I wrapped my hands behind his neck, once again twining my fingers in the short hair there.
No more debate. No more backing down. I wanted this. I wanted Ryan Cade and he was right here for the taking.
I tried not to focus on what I was doing, letting my hands wander at will rather than trying to figure out what they should be doing. But just like last night, his hands seemed to know exactly what they were doing, grazing down my back and up again before coming round to slip between us. He cupped my breasts in his hands, squeezing more firmly than he had the night before, but it felt just as good. In fact, it felt even better.
My hands were kneading the firm muscle of his back when he stopped suddenly, and I couldn’t help but wonder briefly if I’d done something wrong.
“I want you naked, Emma,” he said then, dispelling my worry, but what he wanted registered seconds later.
I tamped down the nerves that fluttered through my stomach as he grabbed the hem of my dress and yanked it off over my head. I was naked except for a skimpy bra and thong set, more naked than I’d ever been in front of a man.
He stared at my body for a moment, his eyes grazing over every inch and leaving a tingling trail in its wake, but he seemed restless, impatient.
Before I knew what he was doing, his hands were back and he tore off my bra in one, swift movement. The lacy fabric fell to the floor in a now-useless little heap.
He leaned down and sucked a nipple into his mouth and I couldn’t stifle the small cry of pleasure that e
scaped my lips. He sucked harder, and the sensations seemed to ripple straight down between my thighs. And then harder, and the exquisite mix of pleasure and discomfort threatened to drive me insane.
I grabbed for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. He released my nipple just long enough to let me tug the shirt upward and off. I ran my hands over the flesh I’d exposed, grazing over the hard planes of his chest.
He stood up straight and his lips covered mine once again, and I felt a swift tug on my hips as he tore off my thong. I was naked. I’d only walked into his office minutes ago, and already I was completely naked, half my clothes in shambles on the floor, and I wanted more.
I’d always imagined my first time would be slow, maybe even gentle. I’d never in my wildest dreams imagined this passionate frenzy. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I pressed my breasts against his bare chest, relishing the feel of his skin against mine, but he grabbed my hips then and pulled me hard against him. I froze, stifling a gasp. I could feel the hard length of him through his pants and he was…massive.
He chuckled against my lips. “You’re good for a man’s ego,” he whispered. And then he took a small step back, just enough it seemed to reach between us. I would have wondered what he was doing, but I didn’t have to. His fingers found my clit, and then he slipped lower, parting my lips and sliding along my slit.
“God damn it, Emma, you’re soaking wet,” he said and a thrill shot through me at the heavy desire in his voice.
And then he was lifting me off the ground like I weighed no more than a grocery bag of feathers, and he spun around and laid me down on the edge of his desk, swiping off everything on its surface behind me.
He unzipped his fly and his cock sprung free, and I tried to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor. It was…well, it made my mouth water and my pussy ache at the same time just looking at him. I watched, fascinated, as he sheathed himself in a condom faster than I could have gotten the damn package open, and then he was pushing my thighs apart and stepping between them, pausing for only a brief moment to look down at me.