He went back to her, pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her hands went to his chest, which he took as a good sign. At least, she wasn't pushing him away. "Are you hungry?"
"A little."
"How about we order from that Chinese place we ate at the other day?"
She nodded. He took her hand. "Come."
He led her to the kitchen and had her sit down on a barstool. He poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her. She accepted it with a murmured thank you and took a sip.
He filled his glass and then reached for the phone. "Do you want the same thing you had at lunch or something different?"
She looked surprised. "You remember what I had at lunch?"
His expression was serious, and his tone intimate. "I remember everything where you're concerned."
She didn't move or speak for several seconds. Then she delicately cleared her throat. "The same would be great."
He placed the order, aware of her eyes on him, searching for his motives, he was certain. When he hung up the phone, he walked to her, took her glass from her hand, and set it on the bar. "I want to kiss you, Jill."
She laughed nervously. "You have never announced your desires before acting on them in the past."
"That's because this is different," he said in a low voice. "I want to kiss you, me, Ryan Monroe, not as a part of some fantasy."
One of his hands moved to her neck as he stepped closer. Her lashes fluttered as he lowered his head. Their breath mingled, and he let it, not rushing, wanting to feel the anticipation as much as the reality.
When he couldn't stand it any longer, he let his lips brush hers. They both sucked in a breath, their eyes floating shut as a sensual heat sizzled all around them.
As many times as he had made love to her, kissing her could still send flames shooting through his blood. It made him want her naked, beneath him. Yet, tonight, he wanted to go slow. He wanted to kiss her forever and ever, and show her tenderness outside of sex.
Because this was far more than sex.
And he knew she understood. Even if she tried to talk herself out of the true feelings they shared in the light of day, she knew they existed. Which was exactly why he had decided to kidnap her for the entire weekend.
He needed to show her how he felt. Then maybe she wouldn't be so afraid of who he was.
He kissed her gently, probing her mouth with slow, deliberate strokes, as he stroked her neck. Her arms slid around his neck, and he could feel the shiver that ran through her body. He stepped closer, their bodies melting together as he settled both hands on her waist.
* * * *
Jill's head was swimming with the delicious aroma of Ryan, so close, so gentle, and so the man she loved. It was at times like these, when he showed this tender side, that she found her emotions rising to the top, threatening her ability to keep sex as sex.
Was sex ever just sex with Ryan? The thought came out of nowhere, but it rang a silent bell of truth. Had she ever not loved him? From the moment he had looked at her across that bar, she had felt him in her heart.
His hand stroked her hair as he pulled back and looked at her with something that almost seemed like love in his eyes. She shook herself inwardly. It was just passion, not love. The wrong thing to be risking her entire career and future over. But she couldn't make herself look away, or demand to go home.
Maybe tonight's fantasy for her would be that there was something real between them. She could pretend. But tomorrow she would face real life. Tomorrow she would end this. Before her heart was shattered in so many pieces she couldn't pick them up.
If it wasn't already too late.
"What are you thinking?" he asked her. It wasn't the first time he had asked that. He asked her about her thoughts a lot. She avoided sharing them.
Now was no different. "What are you thinking?"
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. "How much I enjoy being with you. How much I always hate it when our time together ends."
She laughed, but without humor, averting her gaze. "Great sex will do that to a person."
He used two fingers to capture her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Don't do that. Don't make it seem cheap."
Her lips trembled. She wanted him to kiss her again so she didn't have to think. When he kissed her she got lost in feeling. "Kiss me again."
And he did. He kissed her and kissed her, never trying to turn it into sex. It confused her, while it touched her deeply.
Then the doorbell rang.
He reluctantly parted their lips. "The food."
* * * *
Once he paid the delivery person, Ryan sat the food on the coffee table. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed both glasses of wine. Motioning with a nod of his head, he told Jill, "Lets eat in here."
She wet her lips, and nodded. He knew that as a nervous habit now. Sexy as hell, but also a sign she was anxious about something. Slipping off the barstool, she moved towards him. Ryan sat the glasses on the coffee table and then sat down on the floor. He patted the ground next to him.
Jill joined him. He could tell she was trying to figure out why this night was different from the others. They had never eaten a real meal during one of their fantasy nights. He would order snacks from room service, but they rarely ate much. Conversation had been after-sex pillow talk. During those talks he had gotten more out of her than she realized, though.
She let her guard down during those times, telling him her likes and dislikes. He knew about how she had always wanted a dog, never had a best friend until she was an adult, and how much she loved Oreos. Those things had added up each night, and what he knew and loved about Jill had as well.
He had already hinted at the truth about this night, about why it was different. He had told her he wanted to kiss her as him, not a fantasy man. It was time to face reality.
Ryan pulled the food out of the bags, setting Jill's in front of her. "It smells good," she said.
"Um," he said. "Very. I'm hungrier than I realized."
He took a bite of an egg roll. "So, your mom's a teacher?"
"Was," Jill said lifting the top off her paper bowl. "She had a heart attack, which led to finding out about her diabetes. It was a long road to recovery."
He thought she was amazingly strong. "And you single-handedly took care of her."
She shrugged. "I did what anyone would have done."
"Which entailed what?"
Her tone was matter of fact, but he sensed she felt anything but that about the subject. "Waited tables, took six years to finish college. I brought her to live with me."
"And now?" he asked looking at her over his wineglass as he took a drink.
She picked at her food. "She moved in with a close friend, who happens to be a nurse. But they live in my building. It helps me to know I'm near if she needs me."
"And now you are starting your life all over again."
She looked up at him. "Yes," she said. "Which is why I don't want to screw it up."
He sat his glass down, shifting so he faced her. She still faced the table. "And you think sleeping with me is going to do that."
"Maybe."
He ran his hand down her hair. "I won't let that happen. You have my word."
She turned her head and looked at him. "I know you wouldn't intend to, but other people's actions can't always be controlled." She was referring to people like Greg and they both knew it. People who hurt others to get to the top. "Besides, I've made my choices, and I take responsibility for what I do."
Each day, each hour, each word that passed between them only made him respect her all the more. He wanted her to know she was special. He wasn't sure she realized she was. "I never bring women to my home."
She tilted her head to study him, her eyes holding a question.
"I know," he said, reading her thoughts. "I brought you here the first night I met you. Even then, I didn't know why. I just knew you were different from other women." His voice softened. "And you are, Jill." He wanted to
say more but he wasn't sure she was ready to hear it.
She was silent so long it was unnerving. Then, "Sometimes I get so mad at you Ryan."
His eyes narrowed. "What?"
She looked him in the eyes. "For making me want you no matter what the cost. For getting in my head and refusing to leave. "
He smiled. "Sometimes the reward is greater than the risk. You just have to be willing to reach out and take it." He resisted the urge to make love to her right then and there. Instead, he kissed her temple. "Eat, before your food gets cold."
She took a minute before turning back to her food, staring at him as if she were trying to understand the meaning of his words. To that he said, good.
They ate in silence for a bit, both deep in thought, before he asked, "Do you remember your father at all?"
She shook her head. "No, not at all. I wish I did. Pictures are all I have, other than my mom's stories."
"I'm adopted," he told her, and received a startled stare.
"You're kidding."
"Nope. Never knew my real parents. The Carlsons have been wonderful to me, though. And I have a sister. She belongs to them." He laughed at his words. "That sounds strange, doesn't it?"
"So you are part of the Carlson family that owns the agency?"
He nodded. "My parents," he said. "Though my mother died of cancer several years ago."
She touched his arm. "I'm sorry. That must be difficult."
"It was. It still is sometimes. I took over the business when she got sick. My father needed to be by her side, and I wanted him to have that opportunity. He spent the last year with her full time."
"That's amazing. He must have really loved her."
"He did. Still does. He's never been quite the same since she passed."
They finished eating while he told her stories of his childhood, intentionally opening up to her. He wanted her to know him. He wanted to know her. The more he talked, the more she talked. They had each had several glasses of wine, and long ago finished eating, when Jill stood up.
"Bathroom," she said in answer to the question in his eyes.
"Do you remember where it's at?"
She smiled. Her mood had softened a lot during their talk. "The one in your bedroom."
A slow smile turned up his lips. "Perhaps, I should come with you in case you get lost."
* * * *
Jill stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. Her back settled against the wood. She didn't want to keep talking to Ryan. She didn't want to know him any more than she already did. Each minute she fell more in love with him.
She needed to get things back to where she could control them. A slow smile spread on her face. She knew just how to accomplish the task. She pushed off the door and started stripping. When she was through, she looked at herself in the mirror.
The pink silk of the bra was a bright color but sheer, and trimmed in black. The tops of her breasts were exposed with only the darkness of her nipples covered by the sheer pink. She had been blessed with generous but not too large breasts that were high and firm. She hadn't realized what a blessing that was until this moment. Maybe she just never gave herself any credit.
She filled the bra out exceptionally well, if she did say so herself.
The panties were a tiny, barely there triangle. Her black thigh-highs had pink stitching around the top.
She fluffed her hair. Wine and desire had dilated her eyes. She looked sexy. That was new to her. She had never thought of herself as sexy. Just the opposite.
Ryan made her feel sexy. It was he that did this to her. Made her want and need, and even act differently. Was that good or bad?
She had never thought much about sex. That made her smile. Since Ryan, she had more than made up for lost time.
She turned and looked at her butt in the mirror, the way he would. She sighed and turned back around. Not fat. Definitely sexy. That was good. Tonight wasn't a night she wanted to feel fat, ugly, or cute. She wanted to be sexy.
Now, she just needed Ryan.
She opened the bathroom door, finding the bedroom enclosed in a dim, barely there light. Candles. She smiled. Ryan knew she loved candles. He had put them out every time they had been together.
Chapter Ten
When Jill opened the bathroom door, she stood in the doorway, the light behind her, looking like some kind of goddess.
Ryan's body tightened. His mouth watered. He had a newfound love for pink. He had been inspired to buy the lingerie when he'd seen Jill wear a pink silk blouse the same color. He had loved the contrast of her dark hair against the rich hue of pink. Now, he simply loved those little pieces of lace on her body.
He sat on the edge of the bed staring at her. "You are sexy as hell sweetheart. Come here." His voice was a bit raspy with desire as he held out one hand to her in invitation.
Jill moved towards him, taking slow, seductive steps. With each sway of her hips he got harder. Wouldn't have thought it was possible, but apparently it was. The woman had a way about her that could lead to a perpetual hard-on if he wasn't careful.
Instead of taking his hand, she slipped onto the bed and slid behind him on her knees. He tried to turn, but she wrapped her arms around his chest and whispered in his ear. "No. Stay. Let me touch you the way you do me."
He let his hands drop to the bed as her lips feathered his neck and ear. A light scrape of her teeth made him shiver. Her hands tugged at his t-shirt, pulling it out of his jeans. The coolness of her hands went to his back, a tantalizing contrast to the heat in his body. He reached over his head and pulled his shirt off. He wanted her hands all over him.
She didn't disappoint. Her mouth was on his shoulder as her hands roamed his body, moving to his stomach. He could feel her soft curves, those lush breasts, pressing against him. He leaned back, lacing one hand in her hair, and pulling her mouth to his. He dipped his tongue past her teeth, tasting her, hot and wet, and wild with need.
The woman was addictive.
He pulled her across his lap, hardly remembered doing it. He just needed her there, in his arms, and in his mouth. He covered one of those amazing breasts with his hand and kneaded even as his tongue kept steadily probing her mouth. She moaned or maybe he did. He wasn't sure. He pushed the lace of the bra aside and plucked at the nipple. This time he knew she was the one who moaned.
He sat her up and pulled her legs around his waist. "I'm so damn hard for you, Jill. You make me crazy."
Then he kissed her again because he didn't have a choice. It was like breathing. He needed it.
Both his hands were covering her breasts, and she pressed against his erection with the sweet warmth between her legs. Like she wanted it and could hardly wait. Hell, he could hardly wait.
He pulled the bra straps down, since it was the easiest way to get to her nipples. He wanted to taste them. But first he looked. He loved those plump, rosy buds, hard, and ripe, and begging for his mouth.
He lapped at one with his tongue. She sucked in a breath.
He scraped his teeth across it. She made a sound.
He pulled it into his mouth and suckled. She dropped her head back and moaned.
He covered the other breast, kneading and teasing as he suckled harder on her nipple. Then he switched sides, watching her pleasure, loving it.
She grabbed his head and pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him hungrily. He wasn't through with her breasts. Not yet. He covered them with his hands, pinching the nipples between his fingers. All the while he kissed her passionately, tongue to tongue, hot and wet, and never enough.
She pulled her mouth free, her chest moving up and down in a fast rhythm. He could feel her heart beat between her legs. "My turn," she whispered and slid down his body.
She unhooked her bra as if it bothered her, hanging half on and half off, and flung it aside. Then she started unlacing his shoes. She made a tantalizing sight, bare-breasted with her long hair streaming over her shoulders as she sat at his feet. A sight like that brought out caveman-
like feelings in a guy.
It made him ache to possess.
Once his shoes were gone, she reached for his pants. He had to lean back on his hands for her to undo them. His zipper was too strained otherwise. He lifted his hips for her to pull them down. She took his underwear with them, and didn't stop until she had them off his feet.
He sat straight up, which made his very hard erection stand straight as well. She was on her knees. "Impressive," she teased with a wicked smile.
He just looked at her.
"Want me to show you how impressive?" she asked.
Yes. But he didn't say it. He just looked at her.
She reached out and wrapped her hand around him. He could feel his breathing getting faster. She ran her hand up and down his length several times. And then she rubbed the tip with her index finger, slowly moving the wetness gathering there, meeting his eyes as she did.
He breathed her name in a sigh. She wet her lips. He knew when she did that, what she was going to do next. She moved closer to him so her mouth was level with the tip of his erection. His body burned just thinking about what was to come.
She looked up at him and smiled, her lashes fluttering. Then her little pink tongue flicked out and touched the very tip of his erection, twirling around the area her finger had touched.
He moaned.
She ran her tongue along the ridge, before sucking the entire soft tip into her mouth. "Jill," he said in a breath and had no idea why.
Her hands went to his thighs as she did amazing things with her tongue. His hands went to her head, lacing into her hair. She licked him from top to bottom, at all angles, like he was an ice cream cone. His body was racing with fire, throbbing with pure building pleasure. And she just kept giving and giving. As if she might miss a spot, she took her time licking him, moving around and around, and up and down, his length.
She took him in her mouth, gently sliding down his length. Somehow she managed to increase the pressure she was applying while running her tongue around him as well.
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