When You Were Mine (Adams Sisters)

by Byrd, Adrianne

  Joey chuckled. “If we keep this up, we’re going to break something.”

  Heat scorched up the column of Ryan’s neck and then simmered in his cheeks at the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest. Hell, it was the first time he’d had a hard-on in months.

  “Hey, we heard someone was gettin’ it on in here,” a man announced, bursting through the door with a loud group of rambunctious men behind him.

  “Yeah. Can we watch?” another man asked as all eyes fell on Ryan and Joey.

  “Sorry, boys, but we’re all done,” she joked good-naturedly and climbed back to her feet.

  More men piled in, trying to steal a peek, and Ryan had to stifle his own disappointment for having their private moment snatched away. When Joey’s gaze returned, he smiled and managed to somehow climb back onto his feet.

  The shortest man in the crowd, who was also dressed in a hideous pea-green suit, wagged his finger. “Hey, don’t I know you?”

  Belatedly, Ryan remembered his celebrity status and quickly imagined a barrage of tabloid junkets with his picture and a caption: Famed Director Caught in a Toilet Rendezvous.

  “Let’s go.” Not waiting for a reply, he seized Joey’s elbow and guided her toward the door.

  “I’m sure I know you,” the man continued.

  “He does look familiar,” someone else said as he passed.

  Navigating a path out of the bathroom was like whacking through a sugarcane field, but he managed to get them through without incident.

  “Careful. Careful. I don’t think these shoes were made for walking,” Joey complained.

  Against his will, Ryan chuckled. “Then why wear them?”

  “Use your imagination,” she teased.

  Why did you have to say that? Snapshots of Joey in a fire-engine red teddy and silver stilettos draped across his large bed filled his head and caused his rock-hard erection to ache. Looks like he’d just found the woman to end his little slump.

  He slowed down when they reached one of the bars and then turned toward her. “Mind if I ask a silly question, Ms. Adams?”

  “Shoot.”

  “What the hell are you doing breaking into the men’s bathroom like that?”

  “My name wasn’t on the list, and Marcus refused to let me in.”

  Ryan frowned. “You climbed through the men’s bathroom because your name wasn’t on the VIP list? Why didn’t you just come in through the general admission door?”

  Joey stiffened. “What general admission door?”

  “Look around,” Ryan laughed. “There are hundreds of people here. Surely, you don’t think all of them are on the VIP list?”

  “General admission.” Joey closed her eyes as a rush of embarrassment overwhelmed her.

  “Ten dollars to get in.” He shrugged. “With the place being so huge, its entrance is actually down a block but--”

  “Okay, I get it.” She shook her head and swore under her breath. “But I still need to get into the VIP section.” She started toward the first section of the club. The area would be blocked off with more bouncers and security personnel whose sole jobs were undoubtedly to keep the riff-raff away from “the chosen.”

  “Why do you need to get in VIP?”

  Joey sighed. “I have to find someone...and talk them out of making the biggest mistake of his life.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  “Well…sort of.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a long story.”

  His eyes performed a slow drag over her figure. His body still responded to her every curve. He certainly didn’t want to give her up.

  “Hey, what about you? You definitely should be on the list. Can you get me in?”

  “I’ll be glad when we can sleep in our own bed,” Lincoln complained to the closed bathroom door, and then mumbled, “I shouldn’t feel like some pimple-faced teenager afraid that your father is going to walk in every time I reach for my own wife.”

  The bathroom door whooshed open as Peyton poked her head into the bedroom.

  “What did you say, honey?”

  “Nothing.” Any hope of making love to his wife died the moment his eyes landed on what appeared to be men pajamas. “Flannel again?”

  “I didn’t want you to get any bright ideas while we’re across the hall from my father.”

  “Then let’s move to another room. I don’t see why we have to stay in Flex’s old room anyway. It holds bad memories for me.”

  Peyton’s lips sloped with amusement. The first time Lincoln had ever been to this house, Peyton’s family was under the misunderstanding that he was their baby brother, Flex’s, new boyfriend. It was in this room and while staring at this bed that Flex confessed to Lincoln about the lie his family believed.

  “C’mon. Don’t be that way,” Peyton pouted prettily as she approached the bed. “Besides, it’s just for one more night.”

  Lincoln cocked his head and stared at his wife with lazy disbelief. “That’s what you said last night.”

  Peyton leaned in and teased Lincoln with a feathery kiss. “Jamie promised me everything would be ready by tomorrow.”

  “If not, we’re hiring a new decorator.”

  “Now, don’t be like that. Jamie is a good friend of mine.”

  “If you ask me, that’s part of the problem. Never hire your friends because you can never fire them.”

  “I’m not supposed to sleep with my clients, either,” she teased, referring to her dual role as his art agent.

  “You’re not sleeping with me. That’s the problem. C’mon, baby. Don’t sleep in your old room. Stay in here with me tonight.”

  “Lincoln,” she warned smiling.

  “Please?”

  “Don’t beg.”

  He gently pulled her down onto the bed. “Don’t you miss me?” Lincoln kissed and nuzzled her neck. He smiled when she sighed. “We can keep it quiet.”

  “You know I can’t be quiet with you,” she whispered shakily when his lips traveled across her collarbone.

  Lincoln’s nimble fingers slid open the top button of her pajamas while another moan escaped Peyton. Just as it was getting good, Lincoln’s candy was snatched away.

  She climbed off the bed. “See? I’m already getting too loud and you barely touched me.”

  “B-but...where are you going?”

  “Good night, honey.” She sang over her shoulder and escaped out the door before she changed her mind.

  “Fine.” Lincoln tossed a pillow at the closing door.

  It was past midnight when Flex Adams parked his rented Ford Explorer in the driveway of his childhood home and killed the engine. All the lights were out and he took it as a good sign that everyone was fast asleep.

  Sweet success. He had successfully kept a secret from his nosy older sisters and pulled off a surprise visit from Atlanta. Not that it wasn’t hard. It was. Damn hard, in fact. Sheldon, Frankie and Michael, in particular, could teach the CIA a few tricks in gathering information.

  Climbing out of the SUV, Flex quietly grabbed his luggage and crept to the front door. To his surprise, the lock had been changed.

  Flex frowned. He’d had the same key since he was twelve. When did they change it? “Now what?

  He huffed out a breath and glanced around the porch. He moved toward a window and hazarded a glance inside. When he couldn’t see anything through the closed blinds, he set his bags down and pulled at the window.

  Locked.

  He heaved a frustrated breath, but he was determined not to ring the doorbell. Maybe he should go and check all the windows. Stopping to think about it for a moment, he realized he didn’t have a choice.

  “I didn’t come this far to ruin my plans now,” he mumbled, and then remembered the great oak in the backyard. How many times had he climbed it after curfew when he was a teenager?

  Encouraged, Flex picked up his bags and headed toward the backyard.

  #

  “Please get me into the VIP section.” Joey’s smile stretched wide across her
face as she looped her arm through his.

  “You’re not going to even attempt to hide the fact you’re using me?”

  “Me? I would never…well, see this is really important.”

  “I’m not that nice.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a cigar.

  “You’re not going to help me?”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  Joey placed a hand on her hip. “How about a warm glow from knowing you helped someone?”

  “I did my charity work for the night back in the restroom, remember? I got a sore back for my trouble.”

  “Sorry about that.” Guilt flashed briefly across her face. “So what do you want?”

  Ryan stepped forward, his eyes boldly resting on her chest.

  Joey placed her hand across her breasts. “The answer is no!” Irate, she turned.

  Ryan’s hands snake out and latched on to her upper arm. “Okay, okay. You can’t blame a man for trying.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “You’ll get me in?”

  Completely smitten and amused, Ryan nodded. “Fine. I’ll take you.”

  “You will?”

  “I could say no, especially since I liked watching you squirm and wiggle your romp through the men’s bathroom window.”

  Her face tinted and he took her arm and escorted her toward the VIP section.

  Relieved and excited, Joey leaned over and kissed his cheek. She didn’t know why she did it, but she was stunned by the crackle of kinetic energy when her lips touched him. She pulled back and stared into his dark-mocha eyes framed by long lashes and felt something flutter in her stomach. She smiled and took another step back and noted how he had a body of a Zulu warrior: tall, broad and strong.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Fine.” She wasn’t sure what happened, but she quickly shook it off.

  “Well, let’s get you into VIP.”

  Joey sucked in a breath as he slid his arm around her small waist and wondered about her stomach again as he escorted her through dancers, waitresses and security men. Once she made it behind the velvet rope, she scanned the perimeter.

  But then Laurence found her first.

  “Jo-Jo?”

  She turned at the familiar voice, her smile wide across her face when she saw Laurence; but then it died when she noticed the tall, silicon-stuffed Italian Barbie doll standing at his side.

  Laurence’s smile quivered at its edges. “Jo-Jo, what are you doing here?”

  “I…I came here looking for you,” she managed to say.

  The famed actress pressed her body against Laurence and coiled her long arms around his neck. However, it was the diamond ring on the woman’s left hand that caught and held Joey’s attention.

  “Who is she?” Joey asked.

  Laurence licked his lips as his gaze skittered to the woman glued to his side.

  “I’m Carlina Leoni,” the woman answered with a bedeviled smile. “Larry’s fiancée.”

  Chapter 5

  Stuck in a looping continuum, Joey stood in the middle of VIP and gapped at Laurence. It wasn’t until Ryan reached over and closed her slack jaw did she even have a clue of how ridiculous she looked. Even then she didn’t know what to do or say, so instead she spun on her stilts and nearly broke her neck.

  Ryan’s arms flew out around her waist and saved her from making an even bigger fool out of herself.

  “Whoa, sweetheart.”

  “Jo-Jo, wait.” Laurence called.

  Ryan’s face scrunched at the nickname as he whispered, “You let him call you that?”

  “Just get me out of here.”

  Ryan opened his mouth to protest. The last thing he wanted was to be trapped in some Jerry Springer drama.

  “Jo-Jo,” Laurence called again and pried away from his true-to-life blow-up doll and hustled around to block their exit. “Jo-Jo. This is--I’m sorry…but I didn’t lie to you. You must believe that.”

  Joey’s hand whipped out and slapped Laurence across the face. The sting in her hand was nothing compared to the pain ripping through her heart. Thoughts of scratching out his eyes and snatching every strand of hair from his hussy’s perfect head crossed her mind, but remarkably she refrained from turning ghetto.

  With his arm still wrapped around her waist, Ryan stepped forward and established himself as protector. For one long heartbeat the men stared at each other.

  Laurence glanced around Ryan and stared at Joey. “I thought you weren’t dating anyone else?” Accusation laced Laurence’s heavy baritone, and Joey was stunned and confused by the flicker of hurt in his dark eyes.

  He still loves me.

  However, her hopes died when Carlina reappeared and slithered a long tanned arm around Laurence’s neck. “C’mon, Larry. Let’s dance.” Carlina smiled but it remained aimed at Ryan.

  “You hate being called Larry.”

  Laurence dropped his head and then stepped aside to complete Joey’s heartbreak.

  Everyone and everything blurred as Joey detached from Ryan and sprinted through the club. “This was a mistake. I can’t believe...Oh, God.” She placed a hand over her stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.” She trekked through the club at record speed heedless of the people she bumped into or nearly bowled over.

  “Joey, wait up,” Ryan called.

  “Why didn’t I listen to Peyton or Michael or Frankie?”

  “Joey!”

  Bursting through the glass doors, Joey collided into Marcus’s back.

  The bouncer turned and then blinked in astonishment. “Hey! How did you...?”

  She sprinted around the large man.

  “Joey, will you please slow down?” Ryan caught up with her. “Where are you going?”

  “Home.” She stopped to jab her hands against her hips. “Where in the hell did I park my car?” Exasperated tears leaked from her eyes.

  Ryan settled his hands onto her shoulder and forced Joey to make eye contact. “Look. You’re upset. Why don’t you let me drive you home?”

  Her lips curled as she attempted to pull herself together. “I appreciate that, Mr. Donovan.” She sniffed. “Truly, I do...but it’s not necessary. I’m fine,” she lied.

  Ryan frowned. “You don’t look fine...and please call me Ryan.” He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’m not sure what just happened in there...but I’m worried about you,” he admitted.

  “Don’t.” Joey shrugged off his hands. “I’m a big girl. Nothing happened that a tub of ice cream wouldn’t fix. I’ll either cry myself to sleep or pass out from an extreme sugar high,” she laughed, but her voice cracked.

  “Joey--”

  “Oh, there’s my car.” She stepped around him and backhanded her tears. Her body trembled as she clung to what little dignity she had left. Not only she made a fool of herself, but this time she managed to do it in front of a big-time director.

  Ryan’s hands fell to his sides as he pulled himself upright and followed close behind.

  Neither spoke during the short time it took to reach her old silver BMW and fumble for her keys. When she opened her car door, she turned back to face Ryan with a wobbly smile. “Thanks...for everything.”

  Tenderly, he wiped the tears she’d missed from her face. “I’m sorry it couldn’t have met under happier circumstances.”

  “Yeah...well…”

  “Maybe we can hook up again...to discuss your scripts?” he offered.

  “Really?” She sniffed, scared to believe that something good was going to come out of this.

  “Really.” He reached inside of his pocket and handed her a business card.

  “I’d love that. You still have my information?”

  He flashed her the palm of his hand. “Got it right here.”

  His warm smile buffered the rain pouring down inside of her.

  “Good night,” he whispered and leaned forward and planted his lips against hers.

  Joey sucked in a startled gasp but failed to react because her t
houghts muddled together and her heartbeat pounded in her ears. He tasted like charm, sophistication, and danger all rolled up in one. He was as addictive as chocolate.

  Ryan’s body went haywire. She tasted wonderful and felt like a dream. Hot damn, he was definitely back in the game. Overconfident, he pulled her closer and glided his hands down her backside.

  Joey jumped back and swung.

  Stars rained before his eyes. He chuckled, but had a devil of a time blinking the stardust away. “Wow. That’s quite a punch you have there.”

  “Asshole.” She threw his business card at him and then slid in behind the wheel.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” He laughed. “Why don’t we go back to my place and talk about it over a drink?”

  She slammed her door, started up the car and backed out her parking space without sparing another glance at Ryan.

  “Is that a no?” he shouted after her. His gaze followed the car until it disappeared. He huffed and turned back toward the club. “I guess the slump continues.”

  #

  Lincoln held his breath as he crept down the hall in search of his wife’s childhood bedroom. He’d lain in bed, staring up at the ceiling for as long as he could, yearning to hold his wife until he thought he would go insane. He was a grown man with needs and he had a gorgeous wife just three doors down who knew how to satisfy those needs.

  At last he arrived at his destination. Excitement rushed through him, and a smile ballooned across his face as his hand landed on the doorknob. Lincoln cringed as the hinges creaked in protest. Once he had sufficient space, he inched into the room and cringed again when he closed the door.

  Success was well within Lincoln’s grasp as he padded over to the whitewashed canopy bed. He could almost feel a pair of devil horns spike through his head as he slid beneath the sheets next to his wife. Hard and aching, Lincoln curled into a spoon behind his wife’s firm buttocks. “Baby?” he whispered against her ear.

  “What are you doing?” Peyton’s silky voice floated back toward him.