“I’m going to pay for this and I’ll meet you at the pool in, let’s say, thirty minutes?”
“Deal.” Carson leaned in, kissed her on the temple, and left.
Chapter Six
Fuck. Why had Carson thought for one moment that a matronly swimsuit would keep his mind off wanting to see Ryanne naked? Even if she wore a burka she would have still been alluring to him. The suit didn’t cover up her long, golden-brown legs, giving him erotic thoughts of having her thighs spread wide for him. The way the suit clung to her curves, even dry, showed him a perfect view of her breasts. Man, had her breasts always been so full? He wanted to pull the thick straps down and reveal them and feast his greedy mouth on them. He was just grateful he was in the deep end so she couldn’t see his erection.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Ryanne moved closer to the edge of the deep end. “Do I look that silly?”
Treading water, he looked at the woman before him from her head to her red-painted toenails that she curled over the edge of the pool. “Not silly at all. Matter of fact, with those two cornrows down the sides you remind me of you at ten when we used to swim in my backyard. I keep expecting to look behind you and see your mother and mine supervising from the porch.”
“There weren’t any swimming caps.” She patted her head, fingering the ropes of the braids.
“Don’t worry, you look adorable.” He pretended as if he were speaking to a little child.
She placed her fists on her hips. “See, that’s exactly why it’s best to stay away from childhood friends. They have too many bad images of you in their minds.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Ryanne. I don’t have any bad memories of you.” Nope. All his memories were good, even those that were teenage-boy erotic ones, which were still fond to him.
She gave him a smile and yelled out, “Race ya!” then dove into the water past his head.
“You cheater,” he accused, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him below the water. Plunging beneath the surface, he swam after her. He could only see her shadow ahead of him with the pool only being lit by the daylight coming in from the domed skylight. He finally caught up to her, but she still won from her large head start.
“I won! I won!” She was doing some silly dance in the water.
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Does a cheater really win?”
“Yes,” she declared. “Now the last one down the slide is a rotten egg.” This time she shoved him and dashed away to the stairs.
When he fell back into the water, he watched her saucy ass sway as she hustled up the steps. He couldn’t be mad at being behind her, not when he got a view like that. Getting out of the water, he followed her up the ladder to the slide, tickling her with each step she took.
Laughing and squirming, she called out, “Stop, you know I’m ticklish.”
“Hey, cheating is cheating. Don’t try and set rules now.” He danced his fingers up her calves to the backs of her knees just as she reached the top.
Still laughing, she twisted to get away and ended up going doing the slide backward. She stuck her tongue out at him as she descended. Not waiting for her to get to the bottom, he lay on his stomach and went down after her.
Splashing into the water seconds after her in the deep end, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. They both sprang from the concrete bottom together and kicked until their heads popped out. He didn’t let go of her waist.
Wet and beautiful, she cried out, “Hey, you’re supposed to wait until the person before you gets into the water before you come down.”
He shook his head as they kicked their feet together, keeping them afloat. “I don’t recall seeing any rules that said that.”
She moved one hand in the water as she pointed to a plaque on the side of the pool with instructions.
He didn’t even turn to look at the sign. “Sorry, can’t see it without my glasses.”
“You don’t wear glasses.”
“Contacts?” He was enjoying holding her.
She frowned. “Do you?”
“No.”
Placing both her hands on his shoulders, she used her weight to shove him under the water. He allowed it. Under the water, he watched her flip onto her back.
He came back up and followed her with a breaststroke. When she stopped midway, where the water lapped at their chests, he asked a question that had been plaguing him. “Tell me, Ryanne. How is it that a hot black woman like you is on a singles holiday vacation?”
Lifting her hands, she made a point of wringing the water out of the ends of her braids. She took a long moment to answer him and he became slightly apprehensive about hearing it, thinking maybe there was a hurtful break-up story behind her reason.
“Remember I told you I made junior manager?”
“Yes.” He tried not to look at how the water lapped at her breasts and how the impressions of her nipples were visible through her suit.
“Well, I got a great opportunity to go to a conference.”
“When?”
She bent her knees and lowered into the water until it was at her chin. “This week.”
Was she leaving already? “Where?”
“Denver, but it got canceled.” She looked down into the water then stood again. “I didn’t want to go to my parents’ home in Florida yet, so I came here instead.”
“Why?”
“You know my mom. All my sisters and my brother are spoused and babyed-up. I just didn’t want the drama. Besides, I was just home on Thanksgiving, so they’re not missing me.”
She stared out the side window to the snow-covered outside pool.
He didn’t believe that for a moment. He knew Ryanne loved her family. As the oldest, she’d let any of her siblings tag along with her wherever she went. Which meant their marital and child status was only part of it. The next question was even harder for him to ask.
Lifting his hand, he grabbed one of her braids and gave her a slight tug until she turned and looked at him. “Okay, that sort of answers my question. Isn’t there some guy in your life that you could have taken home to meet your family?”
Fuck, what are you thinking, Carson? What if she says yes?
“No.” The one word came out soft, like a caress.
Stepping closer, he asked, “Does that mean there’s no man in your life?”
“No.” There it was again.
“No heartbreak you’re trying to mend or get over?” Using her braids, he pulled her closer until her breasts were pressed against his chest.
“Nothing like that for me, Carson, but what about you? Is there some woman pining away for you?”
“Not at all. My last relationship ended about a year ago, and I doubt if she’s weeping over me.”
“Sounds like a heartbreak story.” Her gaze searched his.
“There’s only one thing that would break my heart.”
She inhaled deeply; her nipples grazed his chest. “What’s that?”
Wrapping an arm around her, he pressed her flush against him, lifting her feet from the bottom of the pool. “Not kissing you.”
He didn’t wait for her to approve or give her permission; all day her mouth had been teasing him. It had teased him all his life, if he was honest, and at this moment he was going to take what he’d wanted for so long. He seized her mouth. Not in a sweet and tender kiss like he would have given her the summer following their freshmen year. No, this was a kiss from a man to a woman. Pure desire and aching need.
Holy North Pole! Ryanne had never been bowled over by a kiss, but that was what Carson’s mouth was doing to her. She’d known he was going to kiss her. The tension around them had been building all day. However, she was expecting him to give her a gentle kiss, maybe coax her mouth open and allow her to ease into this new territory with him. But, hell and firecrackers, that was not what he was doing.
No, Carson was taking her mouth by storm. Kissing her deeply as if he had been a starved man before this and her
mouth was his sustenance. His tongue swept from one side to the other, circling her tongue and demanding she join him in the passionate kiss.
She did. Without hesitation. She may not have been expecting a kiss that would curl her toes and cream-coat the seat of her matronly bathing suit, but that was what she got. One of his hands palmed the back of her head, keeping her from moving away from him—not that she even considered it—while the other hand stayed under the water and slipped lower to palm her ass.
Oh, hell, he was grinding his cock against her. Hard and urgent through his swim trunks, he was pressing firmly between her legs and grinding his shaft over her clit.
If the floor had been under her feet, she would have felt it shift, but instead her world tilted at an unbelievable angle. All of her senses now pointed due north, aiming directly at her center of gravity: Carson Rodman. In one kiss, he was becoming her everything, the commander of her desire. She could feel her orgasm building. Could feel it tighten her core, causing her body to tremble. And yet he never stopped kissing her.
Needing more, hungering for the climax just out of reach, she lifted one of her legs high up on his hip. Parting her thighs and giving him better access, she didn’t care how wanton it made her appear. She wanted and needed what he could give her at the moment.
Taking his cue from her, he widened his stance and moved his hand lower so that he was caressing her sex from behind, through her suit, as he rotated his hips and ground the side of his shaft against her, circling her clit.
Before she could even think about what was coming, bright lights flashed behind her eyelids and spasms racked her body.
Pulling his mouth away, he egged her on, incited her pleasure even more. “That’s it, sugar-lips, keep coming.”
Explosions continued to rocket through her.
“Let me feel all that wet heat.” He licked the water from her chin to the side of her neck as he maneuvered his hand past the edge of her suit and stroked her sex.
“Ahh,” she moaned. Her body was on fire, but still she yearned for more.
“Damn, you’re slippery and swollen all over.” His fingers stroked the lips of her sex. “Wrap your other leg around me. Let’s see if we can make you come again.”
Again? She wasn’t sure if she’d ever stopped. Obeying, she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He buried two fingers inside her, pressing deep.
She screamed out her pleasure and creamed around his digits. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone, and feeling Carson’s thick fingers pumping inside her, not her own slender touch, was her undoing.
“Shit, you’re even tighter around me as you come. Damn, give me some more, sugar-lips.” He took her mouth, swallowing her cries as he finger-fucked her.
She bucked against him, and his hard cock still stroked her clit. The sensations she felt inside and out were gloriously erotic.
The water waved around them as he carried them with urgency to the edge. His lips moved from her mouth to her chin, down her neck, and over the tops of her breasts through her high-neck bathing suit.
“I want you, Ryanne…I’ve wanted you...”
“Yes.” She sighed, not considering anything but that moment with Carson.
He grabbed a strap and began to pull it down. “So long…so long. I need—”
“Oops, sorry to interrupt.” Laughter erupted around them.
Ryanne turned and looked over her shoulder as a group of ten came rushing into the pool area and stopped as they saw her and Carson. It wouldn’t take a wild guess to determine what she and Carson were doing. What they were about to do more of.
“Fuck it all to hell,” Carson growled, his voice strained with need.
The same need her body was still reeling from.
He raised her strap back onto her shoulder. She was grateful he hadn’t managed to get it down over her aching breasts. That would have been even more embarrassing than him caught with his hand in the underwater cookie jar.
Damn. Damn. Damn. What was I thinking? She shoved away from him. Not looking at Carson or the group now jumping into the water around them, she straightened the bottom of her suit as she headed toward the shallow end steps.
“Ryanne.” He moved quickly and grabbed her hand.
“Look… I need to go.” She pulled her hand away and saw the dark gray color of his eyes—desire. Don’t look at me that way.
“I can come with you.” He took steps to follow her.
“No. Um, no. I need to wash my hair.” She rubbed her hand over her braids, knowing they were a barely restrained mess. “You know it will take me over an hour to get it back into a presentable style.” She walked backwards until her feet hit the first step.
“Where you going, loverboy?” A blonde splashed water at Carson’s back.
He ignored the woman and took another step toward Ryanne.
“Stay. I need to go. I’ll probably see you at dinner.” Without watching to see what Carson did, she raced toward the door, briefly taking a moment to grab her key card, sneakers, and the terrycloth robe she had worn down.
The cold air of the hallway hit her like a blast. Her teeth started chattering and she drew the robe tighter around her. She knew she should have dried off better and used the heated room in the pool area to warm up a little before she left, but that would have kept her around Carson even more and she couldn’t trust herself around him.
What were you thinking? She asked herself repeatedly as she decided it was best to take the fire exit stairs up to her floor instead of risking Carson following her up in the elevator. Or worse, run into Phillip and have to explain where Carson was.
Shaking her head, she took the steps two at a time. This was not her. That had not been Ryanne McCall in that pool with him. She was not a spontaneous person. Not when it came to sex. Trips and vacations, yes, because she loved to travel and get away. But sexually, she thought everything out. Planned it all out.
Even losing her virginity in her sophomore year, she’d orchestrated that event too. She’d dated a guy for most of the year, and a month before the spring semester ended she had set a date to lose her virginity.
The guy was nice, sweet, and thoughtful. He ended up being their graduating class’s valedictorian. She stayed away from jocks and frat boys, keeping to intellectuals. She and Jim didn’t make it beyond the fall of their junior year, but had remained friends.
Now this. Since she ran into Carson that morning, she hadn’t been the same. She didn’t recognize herself. She needed to think about this.
Yes, she may have come to the singles getaway thinking she might connect with a guy, possibly someone she would feel comfortable with after a week to sleep with, even if it wasn’t going to go any further. But she never expected to run into someone she knew. Someone she liked. Someone she had deep feelings for. Carson was a factor she hadn’t prepared for.
He had come here with Phillip to the singles holiday getaway to find multiple women and get laid. Hell, Phillip was getting laid, all over the damn place. Maybe even Carson was doing the same, just being more discreet.
He told you he didn’t have sex with Lanie.
That’s just one woman. She argued back and forth with herself. Ryanne entered her room and bolted the top latch behind her.
If she let things go further with him, she would become too involved, possibly end up hurt and have to look over her shoulder wherever she went in the city she loved. She had to consider this situation fully.
Chapter Seven
Ryanne heard the banging late on her door. It sounded as if a pack of zebras were kicking it. Turning her head, she stared at the door, considering whether or not to answer it. Maybe it was just a rowdy group of drunken guests terrorizing anyone they could.
“Rye!” The banging continued.
She could have sworn she heard someone call her name. That didn’t make sense; there were only two people here who knew her, and a handful of ladies she’d met the night before. She couldn’t see them coming for he
r at this hour.
After she’d washed, dried, and spent more than thirty minutes flat-ironing her hair, she’d sent a message to the desk clerk asking her to notify Carson that she was not coming down for dinner. She’d lied and said she was unwell. She knew she was avoiding him, but she needed the distance to put things back into perspective. Carson had always been her friend throughout her childhood. Nothing more.
Before she left for college, she knew she’d developed very deep feelings for him, but they’d never been remotely reciprocated by him, except when they’d said good-bye and she’d almost kissed him. However, her mother had saved her from that mistake. Now, there was no one to save her from this folly but herself. The best way she’d decided to do that was by keeping a reasonable distance away from Carson and only seeing him within a group.
Her door rattled again. Shaking her head, she realized whoever was on the other side was not going away. Tossing her blanket off her legs, laying her book down on the cushion, she then set her glass of wine, from the bottle she had ordered with her room service meal, on the table and padded toward the door.
Looking through the peephole she saw that it was not a group of drunken revelers but one reveler: Carson. Leaning her head against the back of the door, she sighed. She’d thought to escape him at least until tomorrow, but evidently she wasn’t going to be so fortunate.
“Rye!” he called out again.
Pulling the door open, she stared at the gorgeous man as every sensation she’d felt in his arms in the pool came raining down on her under the perusal of his gray eyes.
“Hi, sugar-lips…” He seemed to bump into the doorjamb more than lean against it as he smiled.
“Carson, what are you doing here?” She clutched the edge of the door in her hand.
“What am I doing here? Ha!” He wagged a finger at her, as if he were trying to figure out a puzzle. “What are you still doing here?”
“I didn’t want to be bothered. Didn’t you get my message?”
He pushed away from the jamb and stepped toward her, placing one of his hands on the wall and the other on the door, caging her in. Nervous butterflies took flight in her stomach. She tried to ignore the excitement of being near him again and feeling his warm breath caress her face. The piquant scent of alcohol tainted his breath, intoxicating her.
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