“Is she seriously injured?” He felt Macy move behind him, standing only feet away.
“There’s no word yet,” Pia said. “I know you’ll understand that neither her involvement nor her condition are public at this point.”
“Of course. Thank you for informing me.”
“Seth Kentrell’s assistant asked me to pass the information to you. Mr. Kentrell feels that you might not have had a relationship with Jesse but he was still your brother and you deserve to know about his death before it hits the media.”
Ryder swallowed past a ball of emotion in his throat. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”
He disconnected and, holding any reaction the news had caused at bay, he turned to Macy.
She stood in a bronze satin sheath, feet bare, face free of makeup, hair up in another French twist. She was breathtaking. But her eyes were soft with concern. She must have realized something had happened from his comments or tone. She’d find out soon—the news would be everywhere by morning. He should leave it at that. But a tug deep in his chest drew him to share the information with her now. To seek her hand.
She offered it without hesitation, allowing him to interlace their fingers. And she waited in silence.
He cleared his throat. “My half brother—Jesse—has been killed.”
“Oh, Ryder.” She took a step in.
He stared at her fingers interlaced with his for a long moment, then shook his head. “I met him twice, briefly. I didn’t know him.” And now he never would. His stomach hollowed.
Macy tugged on his fingers. “Come, sit down.” She led him to an overstuffed gold brocade couch and he dropped heavily into its depths.
She sank down beside him, still holding his hand. “Did you want to know him?”
“No.” He scrubbed his free hand through his hair. As a child he’d wished his brothers dead for the crime of stealing his father’s love and attention. But that had been a hurt child lashing out—he couldn’t ever reveal those feelings. Especially now that it’d happened. She’d think he was a monster.
“Will you go back for the funeral?”
Funeral? He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I don’t know. The first time I was in the same place as Seth, Jesse and their mother all together was for my father’s funeral a couple of months ago. I didn’t acknowledge them.”
He knew the ill feeling ran both ways, and was vaguely surprised Seth had asked his assistant to send word of Jesse’s death. He and Seth had occasionally been at the same function or event, and through a mutual, silent understanding, neither had acknowledged the other. Except for once when an unknowing party guest had introduced them. He remembered the glacial indifference in Seth’s eyes and knew his own stare would have been as brutally cold. They’d nodded once, then parted. No love lost, no common ground. Deep anger covered with a thick veneer of civility.
Macy squeezed his hand. “No matter what, he’s your brother and you have a right to go to his funeral if you want.”
“My brother,” he repeated quietly. The word was foreign on his lips. He’d never called him that before—had rarely referred to either Jesse or Seth in any way, but definitely not as “my brother.”
“I was thirteen when my mother died.” Macy’s voice was gentle, but full of old pain. “I thought I’d die along with her, the ache was so bad.”
He grasped her other hand, wishing he’d known her then to offer comfort. “I can’t imagine.”
The room receded then zoomed into hyper-focus as it hit him. He would never know his brother. Never form a relationship. His pulse raced, chest constricted. Never.
“Ryder?” He felt a soft hand on his forearm.
Blindly, he reached for that hand and brought it to his aching chest as if she could magically soothe the turmoil. He’d always thought of Jesse as a problem, an obstacle. One of the sons who’d taken his father’s love and broken his family. But in some dark recess of his mind, he must have thought that one day they could meet properly, and…something. Not become best friends, but at least acknowledge each other. Perhaps even become acquaintances who met once a year to share a bottle of wine. Or something…
A yawning raw hole seemed to open within his chest and for a moment, the power of it paralyzed him. He fought against it, unwilling to give in to the dark emotions that wanted to claim his heart. He emerged victorious, but engulfed by a desperate need to fill the void.
Suddenly he was aware that Macy’s arms were around him. He drew her closer, welcoming the comfort of human touch. Of her touch.
She stroked his back and his eyes drifted shut, absorbing the full extent of the sensation. Lifting her, he brought her to his lap, reveling in having her this near. He’d needed her touching him again since their first kiss in her lobby. But the kiss on the jet this morning had raised that need to a new peak.
He held her tight and, mercifully, she held him, too. She sat there, in his lap, letting him hold her for what seemed like an eternity. Until the thoughts of Jesse began to fade, and thoughts of Macy were all that filled his mind. And that desperate sense of need. He reached to pull the pins from that blasted French twist and growled in satisfaction as her gorgeous hair tumbled down.
He leaned his face into her neck, smelling her floral shampoo, the scent of her skin. “So beautiful,” he whispered against her hair.
She turned away, as if she was unsure of what was happening between them. If it was right. He was sure. He used a knuckle to bring her face around and met her lips with his own. At first she didn’t respond, and he coaxed, gently, knowing the passion that had been in her kiss on the plane. She might want to deny it but he knew he could rouse passion in her. Passion for him.
As his thumbs stroked her cheeks, he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, biting softly, then ran his tongue along her top lip. She relaxed into him, moaning deep in her throat as his mouth moved over hers with all the desperation he felt. Heat seared his chest as her hands tentatively made contact with his naked skin, skimming across and up, over his shoulders. The touch was a flame to tinder—he’d dreamed of having her here but the reality would surely set him alight.
She twisted in his lap, reaching to touch more, and the pressure on his groin made him groan. He traced a path down her back, feeling the shape of her through the thin satin fabric. He felt until he found the zipper and tugged until the cap sleeves loosened enough for him to push them down, revealing her golden shoulder. Nothing could have stopped him from kissing the smooth perfection of her exposed skin.
She smelled like jasmine. The tang from her soap was erotic and he nipped, then kissed more skin, faster. He needed to taste all of her. His kisses moved back to her throat, desire for her pulsing through his entire body.
He found her mouth again, and the touch of her tongue on his, her tongue in his mouth, almost made him lose control. He scooped his hands under her knees, readying to carry her to his bed, where he could have unfettered access to all of her.
Hands on his shoulders, Macy pulled back, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Ryder, I’m not sure about this. You’re upset after the phone call.” She laid a palm on his cheek. “This isn’t the best time for either of us.”
He heaved in a breath, willing his mind to work. There was a tiny frown line between her eyebrows, but her pupils were dilated and her skin was flushed. She desired him, that much was obvious. She just needed to know he wasn’t using her to forget about his brother. Nothing could be further from the truth.
“Macy, I need you,” he rasped. “I’ve craved you since that first day.” He kissed the lobe of her ear, then whispered in her ear, “Tell me you need me as much. Please.”
Her head rolled to one side, giving him easier access to her lobe. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. More than I thought I could want anyone.”
“Then forget everything else. Forget Ashley International and Chocolate Diva. Forget your father and my brother. This is just between you and me.” He stood, taking her with him and settin
g her on her feet before holding out his hand.
“Come with me.” He didn’t intend their first time to be on a couch—it would be in a bed, where he had the room to savor her properly. Where they could wake up tomorrow morning together.
He looked into her eyes, not hiding the need he had for her in this moment. In every moment. “Come with me, Macy.”
She took a ragged breath and her luscious lips parted, as if to speak. Then she smiled, almost shyly, and took his outstretched hand.
Seven
Ryder pulled her to him, then crossed the vast sitting room, keeping her firmly pinned to his side. Macy’s stomach quivered with anticipation. She’d never felt anything like this intoxicating mix of excitement and impatience, not even on Christmas Eve as a child, knowing there would be extravagant presents under the tree. The prospect of unwrapping Ryder surpassed any gift she could imagine.
She’d been resisting him for weeks, then when he’d had the call about his brother, her heart had gone out to him. And once she was beside him on the couch, his magnificent chest bare, him gripping her for dear life, she knew the resistance she’d been clinging to had been shattered. She’d tried to bolster it again when he’d kissed her, tried to hold the fraying edges of her self-restraint, but she’d been yearning for his kiss, dreaming of it at night and so reason had fled within minutes. It was one thing to withstand her attraction to him from across an office, or standing near him on a cruiser. It was quite another when they were alone on a couch and she was in his arms, feeling his body heat, smelling the masculine scent of his naked skin.
Since the night he’d kissed her in the lobby of her apartment building she’d been actively holding him at bay, now she’d reached the limits of her capacity to withstand the attraction. And in this moment she couldn’t remember why she’d resisted so long.
At his room, Ryder caught her up against the doorframe. “I can’t wait. It’s a long trip to the bed.” He lowered his mouth to hers, opening her lips in one smooth stroke. She clung to his shoulders, melting, dissolving into him. An earthy blues tune played in the background.
He arched back, breathing heavily, eyes almost black with desire. “I want to savor every single second.”
He lifted her into the cradle of his arms and strode through the door. She’d never considered herself the being-carried-to-the-bed type, but the sheer masculinity of the action made her belly flutter, so she clung to his neck and surrendered to the experience.
He laid her carefully on the huge bed, draped in a burgundy cover and pillows. To her sensitized skin, the cool, crisp bedcover felt glorious, and she glided the back of her hands along the surface for the simple pleasure of it. Being here with Ryder was giving her permission to indulge her body’s senses in a way she’d never allowed herself before. She’d been raised to be in control at all times, to always suspect the media was watching, and that had carried over into every aspect of her life. Ryder was stripping down those restraints. But she didn’t question it; she’d think about it later.
He straightened and her breath faltered at the sight of his muscled chest and shoulders. When he moved to join her on the bed, she held up a hand.
“Wait. You said you wanted to savor this and so do I.” Emboldened by her awakening sensuousness, she took a shuddering breath. “Take off your trousers.”
A trace of surprise flickered in his darkened eyes before he raised a brow in appreciation and smiled.
She swallowed and nodded. “I want to see you. Once you’re down here I won’t be able to see you like this.”
Ryder unzipped the black pants with excruciating slowness, then let them slither down his strong, tanned thighs to the floor before stepping out. Restless on the bed, she wasn’t sure this was the best way to be doing this—not touching for the seconds, minutes their bodies had been apart was making her tremble.
He rested his hands on hips above his black designer boxer shorts. “Shall I join you?” His voice was deep and husky and she took three heartbeats to respond.
“When you finish the job.” She only just managed to push the words out, her throat was so tight.
Ryder cocked an eyebrow and held her gaze as he slid the boxer shorts down. For half their journey, Macy kept her eyes on his, but when she couldn’t hold back any longer, she glanced down his chest, down his full length. Light played over firm muscle definition, robbing her of thought and breath.
A physique like that deserved appreciation. It deserved worship.
Want was such a weak word. If she didn’t have him soon, she’d explode. She held an arm out to him and he came to her, kneeling up on the bed, moving closer until he hovered over her without touching. “Your turn.”
“I can’t with you there.” She’d need more room than he’d allowed her to take off the formfitting sheath dress.
“Try.”
Macy smiled as she arched to reach behind and lower the zipper all the way down her back, pulling one arm from the sleeve. She brushed him accidentally as she maneuvered and Ryder claimed her mouth.
The other sleeve forgotten, she drew him down, kissing him back with more passion than she knew she possessed. Her heart soared—the only time she remembered feeling this right was the last time Ryder had kissed her.
His hips lay over hers and she groaned. “Ryder, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”
“You’ll just have to last, because I want this to go on all night.” He straightened back onto his knees, one on each side of her thighs. “The rest of the dress needs to go.”
She lifted and pulled her other arm from the sleeve, then sat up to pull the sheath over her head. What had been mere anticipation was building to fever pitch inside every cell of her body, and they’d barely done more than kiss. Though, she’d been fantasizing about this since he’d kissed her the night in her apartment’s lobby. Had craved him since then.
He quickly disposed of her bra and panties, then his fingers lightly traced circles on her stomach and she shivered.
His eyes blazed. “You’re exquisite.”
Almost writhing with need, Macy reached for him, and he dragged her close. “I think about you all the time,” he whispered.
He thought of marrying her. Her heart twisted a little, but she ignored it. He’d said tonight was just about them, not about her work on the project or him buying her father’s company. And he was right. She pushed away everything in her mind but him and raised her mouth to his and hovered. “Kiss me.”
“My absolute pleasure,” he said as his head angled down. His tongue slipped inside her mouth and her lips caught it. She sucked, gently at first, but as his hips bucked against hers, she applied more pressure until he moaned, his body pressing along hers with delicious pressure. Her heart pounded, her need for him growing to epic proportions—beyond anything she’d experienced, so intense it would have scared her had it been anyone by Ryder. He somehow made her feel safe and out of control at the same time.
His mouth wrenched away and he trailed wet kisses down her throat to her breast, sucking, grazing his teeth over the tip. Her body contracted, muscles pulling tight. Thoughts could barely form in her mind, her entire world was the feel of him, the clean, musky scent of him.
Her hands found his buttocks, her nails scraping across the perfectly formed roundness.
“Ryder, now. Please.”
He slithered down her body, his hands spanning her hips and plunged his tongue into her. Macy cried out. She looked down her body and met his eyes of dark chocolate. And then his tongue plunged again and this time it stayed, flicking rhythmically against her and the only sensation in the world was his warm mouth until she burst free, calling his name, unable to contain it, and then went limp against the bedcover.
She felt Ryder move back up her body, his breath almost as fast as hers. “Damn, you drive me crazy.” His voice sounded ragged and, eyes still shut, she instinctively reached between their bodies to find him. When she did, she grasped him firmly. He was hot and solid in her palm
and as she moved her fingers, he rasped, “Macy, I need to be inside you. I want to be as close as I can.”
Her eyes flew open, body instantly alert again. “I want that, too.” She rubbed him again with her fingertips.
“Then you’ll have to stop that. I’ve been on a knife’s edge since that plane ride this morning.”
Her blood heated again and she reluctantly released him, squirming inside as the need rebuilt.
“Macy, I wanted this to last so much longer, but I can’t. I’m having trouble lasting another second.”
She kissed his salty chest. “It’s perfect timing.”
His pec muscles flexed as her tongue traced their contours and he moaned. Then he rolled away, off the bed, rummaged through his things, and retrieved a condom. In a flash, he’d sheathed himself and was back.
He moved over her, holding his weight on arms positioned on either side of her. She reached up to kiss him hungrily, wrapping her legs around his waist, inviting. As he surged forward, joining them, she linked one ankle over the other behind his back and held him there, relishing the pure intimacy of it.
When he pulled back, she lessened her grip and gave herself over to the surging rhythms. He kissed her and she clung to his shoulders, etching this feeling, the scents, his labored breathing into her mind, knowing she’d remember this moment until the day she died. If they never had more than this night, she’d own one dazzling memory of nirvana.
She flew higher, Ryder’s intense gaze on her face driving her higher still, the slow, sexy croon from the radio rolling and swelling in flawless timing with the build of sensation within her, providing the soundtrack for a moment of perfection. Then mounting waves sent from heaven crashed through her body, dragging him with her. He groaned and murmured her name over and over, his voice a spent whisper warming her hair.
At the Billionaire's Beck and Call? Page 9
