Love Unrehearsed

by Tina Reber

  The music swirled and the lights danced around us, sending my blood into hyperdrive. Ryan’s finger drifted, seductively snaking down my neck, over the hollow of my throat, down to the crest of my cleavage. I envisioned his tongue snaking the same path.

  He sighed, almost saddened, resigned. “The hardest part is knowing that underneath this incredibly sexy dress is a totally hot lace bustier and sheer panties that you put on when you thought I wasn’t looking. But I have to confess . . . I was so looking.”

  I nudged him lightly. “That was supposed to be a surprise!”

  All playfulness was gone, replaced by determination and hunger. His lips came down on mine, taking ownership of my mouth, of my senses. One touch of his tongue was all I needed to open and let him in.

  “Don’t be mad,” he murmured, reminding me that he still possessed total control of my body. “I’m an actor, remember? I can play surprised.”

  My mind drifted, picturing his long, hard body holding me fast to the bed. He wants to pretend to be surprised? I’ll give him surprised.

  “You’re obviously not a very good Peeping Tom, since you failed to mention that I’m wearing your favorite item.”

  He glanced down at the floor. “The stilettos?”

  I shook my head.

  As if I’d just told him Santa Claus was truly real, his eyes opened wide, all glistening and hopeful. His hand flew to my thigh, seeking confirmation. A deep, feral groan rolled up this throat when he found the top band of my nylons.

  I bit his earlobe tenderly. “I’d much rather you played evil doctor with me.”

  That was apparently all he could take.

  “I am going to fuck you in those shoes. That and the nylons. When we get back to the room, they stay on.” Ryan grabbed my hand and quickly led us through the crowd. There was no stopping him. He was a man on a mission.

  Chapter 5

  Oui

  Through my blissfully heavy eyes, I barely took in the sights of another opulent hotel suite, dimly lit from the soft glow of a table lamp. The last eleven days had blurred into one continuous streak of hurried travel, decadent meals, paparazzi chases, limo rides, blinding camera flashes, and screaming fans to the point that I was dizzy from it all.

  Ryan’s mouth tenderly caressed the base of my neck as he panted heavily from physical exertion. My lungs ached as if they were at risk of collapse from dragging in so many repeated shallow breaths.

  His muscular back arched, allowing refreshing air to channel between our sweat-soaked bodies. His hips rolled and pushed in one more time, sending another ripple through me as his hands pinned my wrists to the bed. I felt the bristly brush of his stubbly chin rasp over my cheek as he lifted his eyes to meet mine.

  “Welcome to Paris,” he said softly, rolling the tip of his tongue up the length of my neck, tasting me before covering my lips with his own again.

  Considering our plane from Heathrow just landed two and a half hours ago and we were driven straight from the airport to this magnificent hotel, I had barely seen Paris. The first order of business, after spending a few hours salaciously flirting on the airplane, was to strip each other bare and make mad passionate love in this pristine bed.

  Responding to his little tease, knowing that he was totally proud of his abilities to ruin me, would have to wait. Most of the pillows had been pushed to the floor, the sheets were in complete disarray, and powerful aftershocks from my mind-blowing orgasm were still jolting my body.

  I took the momentary reprieve of my lips to exhale out the one French word I knew. “Oui.”

  Even making that one little sound felt like a monumental feat.

  Ryan’s gaze was thoughtful and intense, silently telling me everything that mere words alone could not define nor express. Desire to devour him overwhelmed me and I grazed my teeth over his muscular bicep before tugging his hair so I could suck that tasty little lobe of his ear into my mouth. Ryan let out a growl of pleasure before reuniting our lips for more passion.

  Anticipation for what was to come, knowing that he was far from finished with me, heightened the sensations even further. He was being a considerate lover, pausing to allow me some time to recover before unleashing the rest of his wickedness on me.

  I tried to steady my breathing and my pounding pulse, feeling the sweat of our lovemaking bead up on my hairline. Hot, wet, and tangled; there wasn’t an open part of us left to be connected. I caressed my hands up over his muscular back to his shoulders; my arms wrapped tighter as if my grip could somehow pull him deeper into my soul.

  When I drifted my hands down his sides to appreciate his most incredible rear end, he clenched and pressed into me again—slowly—still feeling very formidable and unyielding inside. His pelvis tipped and brushed up on me again, grinding his hips deep with carnal drive into my core.

  I tilted my head, giving him full access to my throat. If the world were to unfortunately end at this very moment, I’d go a very sated woman. I felt his teeth graze on my skin, his primal urges to covet and devour surging to the forefront.

  Ryan’s body suddenly stilled and he swept a few errant hairs from my eyes, locking his gaze on mine.

  His face was so serene and yet so serious. He swallowed, collecting his breath before he said, “Je t’aime.

  Je t’adore. Veux-tu m’épouser?”

  Hearing the inflection in his voice as he seduced me with foreign words, and hands that knew every inch of my body, made my thighs quiver.

  I threaded my fingers into his hair as he placed soft, sensual kisses on my face, the corners of my mouth, my neck. Willing my mouth to do anything other than kiss him while he fucked me like this was difficult.

  “I didn’t know . . . you knew . . . how . . . to speak French.”

  Ryan captured my lower lip between his, swirling me in dizzying passion with each kiss, each lick, each succulent suck from his hypnotic mouth. He rolled his hips deliberately, reminding me that he was still very much in the game.

  “I don’t, but there were a few things I wanted to learn to say to you while we’re in Paris. Like this.

  Making love to you.”

  My breath hitched from the feelings he invoked. “You had this planned?”

  His nose brushed next to mine. Instead of answering, he kissed me deeply. His tongue said yes.

  “Tell me,” I gasped away. “Tell me what you said.” I tightened my interior muscles on one of his surges, drawing an erotic groan from his chest. He pressed my hair back with his hands, cradling my face.

  Ryan’s words came out in a sensual whisper. “Je t’aime means I love you.”

  His muscular thighs shifted as his feet found new footing on the bed. My thighs strained farther apart to accept him. I felt his length top out inside me, surging the most intense of pleasures. Filling me like no one else could. Marking me as his from the inside with everything he has. His hands slid my arms above my head and he twined our fingers together.

  Somewhat breathlessly but with much conviction, he said, “Je t’adore means I adore you.”

  Ripples of emotion coursed through my chest as he gazed directly into my eyes, me feeling so completely loved by this man, in complete awe of his presence, his gentle ways, his undeniable claim that he staked in my heart. Tears of joy blurred my eyes and dripped to the pillow.

  “I adore you, too. You are my forever, mon amour.”

  Ryan’s mouth sealed on top of mine; his hips curled and surged like the unrelenting tide. Pressure was building up inside me, aching for another release.

  As if a moment of deep contemplation struck him, his hips completely stilled and he cleared his throat —several times.

  “Veux-tu m’épouser means will you—” His thumbs tenderly brushed the wet streaks left behind from my weeping eyes, taking careful measure to soothe it all. “It means will you marry me.”

  Air stuttered down my throat as the magnitude of his words aligned with their meaning. New tears welled and spilled from the edges of my eyes while the bu
rning sensation of intense emotions gathered up in my chest, my throat. I felt as if I could burst at the seams.

  I reached up and gently caressed his face. His eyes shimmered like two watery blue pools, glistening as magnificently as the diamond engagement ring on my left hand.

  He slammed into me, deep. “Marry me, Taryn. I want to hear you say yes again. Tell me you want me.”

  My lips quaked, trying to form the ability of speech. “I want you.” I ran my fingertips down the sides of his neck. “I need you to breathe. Yes. Forever. Till death takes my last breath.”

  His lips locked on mine, tying his question and my answer into an unbreakable knot.

  Ryan’s strong hand gripped my hip. “Mon amour,” he said in my mouth. “You are home for me. You’ll always be my home, Taryn.”

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face in his neck, kissing every inch of him uncontrollably. What started out as a private challenge to make love in every country we visited turned

  into something profoundly deeper. This was solidifying a union, consummating a promise to each other far beyond the intimate boundaries of physical love.

  I said the only words that seemed fitting, but somehow they felt so inadequate. “I love you so much.”

  His hips stirred with more vigor; the bed steadily bumped into the wall. The look of painful pleasure creased his eyes. “I love you more.”

  I smiled and dug my fingertips into his rear, holding on, wanting him to climb deeper inside of my soul.

  His arms wrapped underneath me, lifting me from the warmth of the bed into a warmer embrace. I straddled up over him; my thighs provided the lift as his hand guided my rear to rock back and forth.

  He lay all the way back, helping me adjust my legs. “Take me,” he breathed. “All of me.”

  His length pummeled inside me. My hands wrapped at the base of his skull, holding his face steady so he’d look me in the eyes.

  I sealed my words on his lips. “Till the day I die. Yours. Forever.”

  Ryan’s hand locked into my hair, holding my mouth to his. “Come with me, baby,” he whispered his plea, grinding me down on his pubic bone and the tip of his thumb. He kept at it, at an unrelenting, punishing pace. I felt as though I were being ripped apart and slammed back together all at once.

  My head fell to his shoulder as the rolling burn of sensations, the shock-wave overload, coursed through my body.

  With a deep groan, his body trembled and convulsed. I felt his warm release pulse inside of me, binding us together forever.

  While Ryan was busy shaving in the bathroom, I called Marie. “He proposed to me again—in French.”

  “While making love to you?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Oh my God, Taryn. That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. Holy shit. Wait until I tell Tammy.”

  I moved my cell to my other ear so she could yell excitedly into that one. “No! Please don’t tell anyone, Marie. Not even Tammy. This is so private. I shouldn’t even be telling . . . I’m just . . . blown away. It was so amazing. I’ve never . . .” Moisture gathered at the corner of my eye again from thinking about it. “Ah. We have to change the subject. Tell me something else. So how are things going there?

  How’s our pub?”

  “Screw that. I want to hear more about sex in foreign countries.”

  “Marie . . . ,” I groaned.

  “The bar is still in one piece, Tar. Busy, although you’ll be glad to know that the influx of obsessive fangirls has died down. Oh, and the five-foot cooler is shot. I can’t believe he proposed to you again in French! God, I really hate you right now. Ryan Freakin’ Christensen, naked in Paris, whispering French I-love-yous in your ear while doing you. Grr. So not fair. Man, why couldn’t I have been the one to open the pub that day?”

  I snickered lightly. “It wouldn’t have mattered. You’re married, remember?”

  Marie snorted but not with humor. “Yeah, well. Not for long.”

  I grabbed my backpack to get my laptop, wishing I would have kept my big mouth shut. “Oh, Marie, come on. Listen, you know I didn’t call to brag. Did we, um . . . did we get the tax bill in the mail yet? And what did you say about the cooler not working?”

  “You are so determined to be a buzzkill, aren’t you?” She sighed loudly. “Tar, I truly am happy for you.

  I hope you believe me when I say that.”

  “I know.”

  “Good. Then tell me more about your trip. I’d much rather talk about that than what’s happening here.

  Please tell me Ryan is walking around naked.”

  I dug through my bag for my power cord adapter, laughing at her enthusiasm. “Towel.”

  “Damn. You suck.”

  “Very well, so he says. I just wish we had more time in each city. Two or three days is nothing. I can’t believe it. In less than thirty-six hours we’ll be in Barcelona. Time is flying by so fast.”

  “Ooh. Maybe he’ll fuck you in Spanish. Can you call me while it’s happening? God, I want to hear that.

  He should put that in his next movie—”

  “Marie!”

  “What? Come on, Tar! If I can’t live vicariously through you, I’m gonna have to kill myself. I need to join you on your world tour. Can’t I carry your luggage or something? Toss rose petals when Ryan walks?”

  “What’s wrong with the cooler?”

  Marie let out a huff. “Someone needs to get laid on top of it. Maybe that will fix it.”

  “Call Gary. I’m sure he’ll be happy to help.”

  I heard the familiar noise of the cash register tape cycling, grinding like the decrepit old-timer that it was. One more thing in the bar that needs to be replaced.

  “Yeah, right. He hasn’t talked to me since we got back from L.A. and to be honest, I couldn’t care less if he ever does. I’m sick of him.”

  “Why? What happened?” I heard Ryan drop something in the bathroom and it made me flinch.

  Sounded like the can of shaving cream hitting the tiled floor.

  “Ah, remember that guy from the Reparation after-party who thought I was a casting agent? Nate—the hottie with the incredible ass?”

  I drew a vivid picture in my mind. Tall, dark brown hair. Wide shoulders with a narrow waist. Total GQ

  material. “Yeah. So what? Is Gary mad because you were talking to some guy?”

  “Yep. When we got back to our room we got into a huge fight. He completely flipped out on me, told me I was flirting like a whore and stuff. It got . . . it got pretty ugly.”

  I swallowed hard, picturing Gary’s anger potential at its worst. I’ll kill him if he laid a hand on her.

  “How ugly?”

  A few beats of silence passed. “Marie, did he hit you?”

  She sighed. “No, although for a moment I wasn’t sure—he was that angry. He said he wasn’t happy anymore and he . . . he said he wants a divorce.”

  I felt my heart clench and I gasped. “Oh my God! No! What did you say?”

  I heard her take a deep breath. “I told him if that’s what he wants, I’m gone. It’s not like this hasn’t been brewing for a while now.”

  Oh, shit. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

  “What’s to say? You know how he is. When I try to talk to him about what’s bothering me he shuts down or ignores me. We got into a huge fight even before we left for L.A. after I found out that he spent another three thousand dollars out of our account to buy another crappy car to fix up. When I told him I was mad that he bought it without discussing it with me first, he reminded me of how much more money he earns, and then he had the audacity to tell me to shut the fuck up.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “No, I’m not. He’s been . . . I don’t know. I think he’s seeing someone else.”

  I felt like freaking out. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I’m not sure but I have that gut feeling, you know? He’s just being really weird, yelling at me all th
e time. About three weeks ago, he said he was going out drinking with his friend, Tony, but he never came home. He said he crashed at Tony’s but I’m pretty sure that was a lie. He’s never done that before and he got all pissed-off when I asked him about it. All I know is that I can’t take it anymore. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been staying in your apartment the last couple of nights.”

  Now I really felt like crap for telling her about Ryan’s second proposal. I was so wrapped up in my own little world that I had no clue she was suffering.

  “Marie, you’re my best friend. Whatever you need.”

  “Thanks. Anyway, Pete looked at the cooler. Said the compressor is shot. When we got back, the floor was all wet. I called for prices on a new one.”

  I didn’t care about the damn cooler. “Wait. So, what . . . are you leaving him?”

  She huffed. “I don’t know, but I can’t live this way anymore, Taryn. He’s miserable. He’s making me miserable. He’s been avoiding me more and more, barely speaking to me.”

  “Sweetie, I’m so sorry.”

  I heard her tears crack. “You mind if I stay with you for a while?”

  Her heartbreak was breaking my heart. “No, of course I don’t mind. You can stay with me as long as you want.”

  I cursed inwardly, furious that Gary would do this to her and even more angry with myself for strapping her with all of my responsibilities while she was all alone.

  “Oh, some lady from United Fidelity Bank called for your dad. Said something about a letter and him owing late fees for a safe-deposit box rental? I have her number. But just so you know, we’ve stopped answering the telephone. I’m trying to screen through the messages, but there are too many.”

  I groaned. Dealing with my parents’ estate, and the unrelenting press as well, was a never-ending battle. “I have to get back there.”

  “No, you need to enjoy the ride for once and take care of you and Ryan and let other people handle this.”

  “I hate that I’m not there for you.”

  “Tar, you are. You are. Please don’t think that.”