by M. L. Broome
Stepping back, I shake my head, disgusted I ever considered sleeping with this man. Disgusted I believed I wasn’t another in a long line of women. “Have at it, Ryder. Don’t let me stop you.” I turn on my heel, but he grasps me about the waist, his large frame pinning me against the side of the limo.
His fingers encircle my wrists, holding them hostage as his mouth claims me. After a moment’s struggle, I relent, allowing my emotions to flow unbidden. With gentle strokes, his tongue slides against mine, coaxing me off my emotional ledge.
Let’s face facts—where Ryder Gray is concerned, I have no willpower.
The moment he releases my hands, I slide them around his neck, a heated moan rising from his throat as he presses closer.
When his hands slide under the hem of my skirt, the rest of the world falls away. All I see is him. All I feel is him.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Gigi.”
Pulling back, I hold his azure gaze, searching for deception. I find none. Instead, I see years of long-shelved passion aimed at me and desperate for release.
It mirrors my own.
“Let me make you mine.”
“Ryder Gray,” a voice shouts from behind us, and I groan when I spy the group of reporters gathered on the sidewalk, cameras clicking.
“Oh, no,” I murmur, burying my head in his chest.
I can see the tabloid headlines now: Not a week between women. Way to go, Ryder Gray.
“Fucking vultures,” Ryder mutters. “The restaurant won’t allow them on their property, so they hover on the sidewalk, hoping for some action.”
“Which we just gave them. What do we do now?”
“I’m going to speak to them. Better they hear from me directly instead of inventing a story of their own. Do you want to come with me? Meet the press?”
“Hard pass. What are my other options?”
Ryder presses a kiss to my forehead, a low chuckle reverberating from his throat. Glad he’s so amused. “You can wait in the limo.”
I’m halfway in the limo before he finishes his statement. Some people crave the limelight. I am not one of them.
Instead, I spend the next few minutes wondering what the hell I should do now. What are even my options at this point?
See? I knew Vegas was a bad idea.
Ryder slips into the limo, that artificial smile plastered on his face.
“I hate that smile.”
He chuckles, the goofy grin I know and love taking center stage. “I love that you know the difference.”
“That smile,” I reply, motioning to his delicious mouth, “is a recent addition. Nonexistent when you were a kid.”
“It’s all part of the facade. Total bullshit.” Turning in the seat, he slides his fingers down the length of my hair. “Are you done being mad at me?”
Huffing out a breath, I open the bottle of wine, helping myself to half a glass. “I suppose I don’t have any right, but I hate the idea of being your rebound. It never ends well for the rebound.”
“Gigi, I’ve waited years for a chance with you. That’s hardly a rebound.”
I want to believe him. He seems so earnest in his appeal, but I’ve been burned before—by Ryder, no less. No way in hell I’m racing back into the fire.
Time to change the subject.
“How do you deal with the constant media attention? It would drive me crazy.”
“It’s not all the time. Honestly, my life is pretty normal.”
A snort flies from my mouth at his remark, because it’s total bullshit. Nothing about Ryder Gray’s life is normal.
He laughs, stealing a sip from my glass. “Somewhat normal? Most of the time, it’s photos of me going to dinner or grocery shopping. Normal stuff.”
Rolling my eyes, I snatch back my glass. “Does this qualify as normal?”
“Not at all. They love capturing moments like this. It’s what they live for.”
With a groan, I flop back against the seat. “That settles it. I’m never kissing you again.”
He pulls me against him, grasping my chin and forcing me to meet his gaze. “Like hell you aren’t. You’re going to kiss me a million more times.”
“I’m serious. You said the media is going to eat this up. I don’t want any part of it, particularly since I now know you’re only newly single.”
I try to jerk my chin away, but he holds me fast. “Well, that’s not exactly true.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up at his blasé statement. “What’s not exactly true?”
“I’m not technically single, but don’t worry, I explained everything to the reporters.”
Suddenly there’s no air in the limo, as my respirations increase in a desperate bid to calm my mind. He told me he was single. Now he’s reneging on that claim? After the media caught us making out in broad daylight?
It’s an introvert’s worst nightmare. Hell, it’s a woman’s worst nightmare.
Ryder picks up on the change in my mood, wrapping an arm around my stiff shoulders. “Gigi, it’s all good. I promise.”
“What’s good about it? What did you tell them to clear everything up? Did you claim I was having a seizure, and you had to keep me from swallowing my tongue?”
I’m freaking out. Ryder, for his part, is totally calm and judging by the upturned corners of his mouth, slightly amused by the entire debacle.
How nice for him.
“Not exactly. I told them our situation.”
My headache? It’s back with reinforcements. “Which is what, exactly?”
“I told them you’re my girlfriend.”
Chapter 5
Ryder
Greer’s eyes darken as a stunned sputter flies from her mouth. “Your what?”
“Girlfriend.”
“Why would you tell them that?”
Okay, not the reaction I was hoping for. “They have photos of us making out. I wanted to protect you. What would you have preferred I say?” A muscle jumps in my jaw as I cross my arms over my chest. She acts like dating me is on par with contracting the flu. “Being my girlfriend isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
“Do you realize how this makes me look? Forty-eight hours ago, you were living with another woman. Now, you’re in Vegas with someone new, and I’m that someone?” She buries her face in her hands, releasing a loud groan. “I look like a homewrecker. Hell, I suppose I am a homewrecker.”
I grasp her knee, desperate to calm her emotions. It would thrill most women to have the paparazzi capture an intimate moment with me. Not my Greer—a fact that both entices and infuriates me. Hey, my ego is coming into play and it’s getting a bit of an ass-kicking at the moment. A woman not wanting to date me is not something I normally encounter, particularly when that woman is the only woman I want. “It’s not that bad. We can get pistachio ice cream. Does that help ease the pain of being my girlfriend?”
She snorts, shaking her head. She’s trying to appear aggravated, but I see the grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Ice cream doesn’t come close to cutting it. Does the whole what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas apply to your life?”
“I highly doubt it.” At least she’s smiling. I know this woman, she likes to appear tough as nails, but she’s a marshmallow. She also has a soft spot for me, or, so I thought before she melted down about our relationship status.
Greer drums her nails along the door handle and I see the gears turning in her mind, wondering what my ulterior motive is in this situation.
The truth? The media asked about Greer; I opened my mouth, and without thinking, I announced she was my girlfriend. It was an accident, of sorts. It just came out.
Not that I don’t want to date her. Hell, I want far more than that with Greer Hammond. But I hoped to wine and dine her, romance her slowly and steal her heart when she wasn’t looking.
Turns out I have far more finesse on the track than I do with love. Don’t get me wrong, I have no issues dating women, but I don’t love them. I wasn’t
even certain I still loved Greer until she walked through the hotel entrance. When she called my name and our gazes locked, I knew I was a goner.
Who am I kidding? I never got back from loving her, and by the time this weekend is over, she’ll be equally crazy about me.
I suspect she already is if those luscious kisses are anything to go on. Damn that woman and her talented mouth. Shifting in my seat, I adjust myself, realizing I’ve had a hard-on since Greer walked back into my life.
Time to remedy that situation.
I grab the bottle of whiskey, pouring a finger into my glass. Best bet with Greer? Make her laugh. “I always told you that one day I’d date you.”
That did it. Greer’s face splits into a grin as she delivers a light smack to my arm. “You could have asked me first. Brought me flowers.”
“I can stop for flowers. Hey, Mike,” I call to the driver through the window, earning another smack from Greer, “can we stop by a florist?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Greer laughs.
“You want flowers, you’ll get flowers. I’ll buy the whole damn shop.” I run my fingers along her jaw, trailing them down her neck to dance between her cleavage. This woman has skin like silk, and I can’t wait to taste every inch of her. Leaning in, I capture that beautiful mouth, tracing my tongue along the seam in her lips until she grants me entrance.
But Greer has never been one to go down easily. Staying my hands, she fixes me with her dark stare. “That isn’t how it works, Ryder.”
“How would you know?” I ask between kisses, her mouth hot against mine. “You’ve only dated me for five minutes.”
As luck would have it, the florist is around the block. Literally. I haven’t even had time to sink into our kiss when Mike announces our arrival. Damn punctuality and green lights.
Greer shakes her head in amusement when the limo slows to a stop. “You’re not really going in, are you?”
“What’s the point of stopping, otherwise?” Stealing another kiss, I jump out of the limo, determined to buy the biggest bouquet in the place and get this woman the hell back to my suite.
I have a bevy of romantic plans for the two of us, but at the moment, pent-up sexual energy wins.
Five minutes later, I stroll back to the limo, carrying a tremendous bouquet of lilies and irises. The florist mentioned roses as an option, but I get the distinct impression Greer isn’t one for typical sentiments.
Judging by the smile crossing her face when I hand over the flowers, I guessed correctly.
“Ryder, they’re beautiful. This is the biggest bouquet I’ve ever seen in my life.” She struggles to hold it against her petite form, and I chuckle, realizing it only took me twenty years to buy her flowers. Better late than never, I suppose.
“Told you dating me wasn’t all bad.”
I expect a flashy grin as she settles onto my lap to thank me properly. Instead, a frown mars her brow. Uh oh, the gears are turning again.
“What’s on your mind, Gigi?”
“Is this some ploy to get me into bed? Checkbox on your to-do list? Sleep with Greer—check. Move on to the next woman?” The frown deepens as she sets the flowers aside. “I’m sure it works with every woman you meet, but—”
Okay, enough of that noise. Seizing her mouth, I silence any further arguments. I’m not dismissing her fears. They’re legitimate. But what she can’t seem to wrap her head around is that she’s not just any woman.
She’s the one I’ve waited for my entire life.
I’m not entirely certain how to prove that fact to her, although I have reached a decision about this evening.
Even if my dick goes on strike.
I’m not sleeping with Greer. Not tonight. She thinks she’s another conquest in a long line of women, and although I know I can lure her into the mood, I’d rather she was secure in her place in my life.
Of all the women I’ve known, she deserves that level of adoration.
Pulling back, she runs her tongue along that pouty lower lip, gazing at me through lowered lashes. “That’s hardly an answer, Ryder.”
My fingers drift along her cheek, drinking in the beauty that I’ve admired for years. It’s uncanny, but she’s more beautiful with every year that passes. She’s also more jaded and emotionally distant.
I’ve got my work cut out for me.
“How about I make a call and get us some tickets for a show? It is Vegas, after all. Or I can rent a boat on Lake Mead and get us away from the Strip. Better yet, I can set up desert camping, and we can really take in nature.”
Her eyes widen with each idea, a small smile crossing her lips. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
Cupping her face with both hands, I force her to hold my gaze, praying she sees the truth in their depths. “Do I want you? Absolutely. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember. But you only get one first time with the woman you’ve always dreamt about, so I’m not screwing it up.”
“You’re not trying to sleep with me?”
“Haven’t you figured it out? I’m trying to make you fall madly in love with me.” There it is, right out in the open.
Sitting up, she presses a hard kiss to my mouth, but she can’t hold back the smile. This time, I know her happiness is genuine. “Keep saying things like that and it won’t be difficult.”
My heart jumps at her words, but I force levity. “See? I told you dating me wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
When the limo pulls up to the entrance of the hotel, I beat Mike to the punch, helping Greer from the car and pressing a kiss to her palm. Then I send Mike back to the restaurant to fetch the rest of the crew.
Me? I’ve got my own plans—ensuring Greer does fall in love with me.
Greer’s gaze flits around, taking in the luxurious surroundings. “This is quite a step up from the original location. Greg told me you footed the bill.”
“He’s been a loyal friend for years. He deserves it and you only get married… well, I’m not going there.” We exchange a grin as we stroll through the lobby, Greer barely able to hang onto her flowers.
“Mr. Gray,” the concierge calls out, waving in my direction. “I have several messages for you. I apologize, but she insisted I hand-deliver them. She was remarkably insistent.” His lips purse in a frown and I know immediately who’s been calling.
Rubbing my hand over my brow, I flip through the pile—and I mean pile—of messages from Mandi, ranging from apologetic to apoplectic. Apparently, news of my exploits in Vegas has made its way to her door. “Insistent is an understatement.”
“She also wanted me to mention that she’s at home in Charlotte and isn’t leaving until she gets some answers.” He shrugs, a rueful expression coloring his features. “Should I hold all calls from her, sir?”
What I want is to superglue her mouth shut, but since that isn’t a viable option, I know I’ll have to speak with her. Fucking wonderful. “Mandi and I need to talk, even if it’s the last thing I want to do right now.”
My statement, although true, should have remained in my head for two reasons. One is that discretion is of utmost importance in the world of celebrity and I don’t know the concierge from Adam. The second and more important reason? Greer heard every word of our brief exchange, and judging by the dismay on her face, she’s none too pleased.
Talk about damage control. Releasing a slow exhale, I offer Greer a shrug and hope for the best. “I’m sorry.” What else can I say at this point? Despite my every attempt to not make it look like a booty call, this latest turn of events is not helping matters. “I’m not even sure how she knew where I was.”
“The world knows every move you make, Ryder Gray.” Her gaze shifts to the ground as she chews her lower lip. “She’s still living with you? This keeps getting better and better. What’s next? She’ll show up for the wedding?”
“She’s still at the house, but only because she hasn’t found a place, or so that’s her claim. I’m dealing with it.”
W
rong answer, Ryder.
Houston, we have a major incident—a head-on collision, and the brake lines are cut. Greer shakes her head, her gaze flitting from the enormous bouquet in her arms to my face. “Take your flowers, Ryder.”
“They’re your flowers.”
The head shaking is more insistent now, her lips pursed. “I don’t want any part of this situation.” She holds out the bouquet, but I make no move to take them. After standing at an impasse for several seconds, she darts across the floor, gifting them to a woman in a wheelchair.
Then, without a second glance, she turns on her heel and heads for the elevator.
I have two choices: let her walk away or chase her down. I let her walk away once. There’s no way in hell I’m letting that happen a second time.
My long legs have no issue overtaking her, and I grip her arm, forcing her to slow. “Easy, Gigi. Can we talk about this without you running away?”
“Running away is the safest option at this point.” She motions between the two of us, and it’s then I catch the glassiness in her gaze. “What are we doing? We need to stop, or we’ll wind up doing something we regret. I’ve known you your entire life. I don’t want to taint that memory.”
“I will never regret spending time with you. But I’m ready to leave those memories in the past and start making new ones together.”
“You’re living with another woman,” Greer argues, punching the elevator button.
“Only technically. Hell, I put her on a plane two days ago. I don’t know why she’s back in Charlotte, but I swear, Mandi and I are done.”
“That appears to be a one-sided sentiment. Come on,” she mutters, her eyes focused on the floor numbers above the bank of elevators. “Go and speak with her, Ryder. It’s obvious she isn’t taking silence for an answer.”
“What about us?”
Greer pivots, her eyes large and luminous. “There is no us. There never has been. Any time we came even remotely close, your girlfriend suddenly appears, shooting the notion all to hell, and making me feel like a hussy in the process.” She runs her hand over her brow, the tension clear in her face. “I knew this was a terrible idea. I shouldn’t have come.”
