Ryan (The Mallick Brothers #2)

by Jessica Gadziala

  "Believe it or not, this isn't that bad," I said, taking Rocky and opening the back door, putting him inside, and closing it.

  "How do you think she's gonna take the new place?" he asked, following me toward the other side of the car.

  "You know, I think she's alright once she's behind a closed door. She might need to take a bath or something, but then she should settle down and be alright. I think it's in her power somehow to make any closed room her own kind of comfort zone once she gets over the shock of it."

  "Alright, well let's get it over with for her," he agreed, cupping my shoulder and then moving off toward his own car.

  I let myself inside my own, reaching out to give her thigh a squeeze. "Okay?"

  She exhaled hard and opened her eyes. "No," she admitted. "But I will be."

  "That's all we can hope for, right?" I asked, giving her another squeeze before throwing the car into reverse and getting a move on already.

  "Where are we going anyway?"

  TWELVE

  Dusty

  A hotel?

  He was taking me to a hotel?

  I mean, I didn't know much about security or anything, but I was pretty sure just about anyone could walk in and out of a hotel at anytime. Right?

  We didn't drive right there, though. Ryan took a long, winding path that led us two towns out and then circled back, Mark a few cars behind at all times.

  I guess it would be the real-life equivalent of making sure you didn't have a tail. Which, in a weird way, was kind of cool.

  But then we pulled into a somewhat packed parking lot to a six-floor hotel in a gorgeous gray stucco, everything about it screaming 'expensive'. I bet I couldn't even afford the cheapest room in the building for a one night stay.

  So when Ryan jumped out and the door attendant rushed over in his immaculate suit and took the key from Ryan and addressed him by name, well, I pretty much had to force my gaping mouth closed.

  "Mr. Mallick, long time no see," he said, as he went to open the door for me.

  "I got her, thanks," Ryan said, stopping him and letting me take a somewhat deep breath.

  The ride had done wonders to soothe over the frazzled nerves, to help me breathe again.

  Quite frankly, the absolute last thing I had expected when he came back into his apartment was him saying we had to leave. As in... both of us.

  I guess a part of me had sort of been expecting I could turn Ryan's apartment into my own new little prison, but this time with a hot guy who was sweet as all hell and happy to give me one-sided orgasms to share it with me.

  Which was, well, silly.

  I knew that.

  Trading one prison for another wasn't going to work indefinitely. We had even talked about it the night before- about how he wouldn't expect miracles, but that we could work for progress.

  And, being forced from his apartment and staying in a place I had never been to before, while mildly (okay, moderately if not acutely) terrifying for me was not the best way to go about it, it was still progress.

  My heart was still a hummingbird's wings in my chest and I was queasy and sweaty and miserable, but I wasn't dizzy and I wasn't gasping for breath and I wasn't sure I needed to make a mad dash to the nearest exit and run back to my safety zone. Because, well, my safety zone was a decidedly unsafe place right then. In a very literal, not imaginary way I made up in my mind.

  So when Ryan reached inside and offered me his hand, I put my clammy one in it and internally freaked the hell out about him feeling said clammy hand, but I still climbed out of the car and I still went with him as he led me away. Not to the big front desk area I could see through the sparkling glass doors though. He led me over toward the side of the building where there was another entrance, more understated, with the word "residents" over it.

  He was a resident?

  Who the hell was a resident of a very expensive hotel but had an apartment too? I didn't know a heck of a lot about the topic, but I knew residents of hotels paid an arm and a leg to live there.

  "Mr. Mallick!" the girl behind the desk in a very formfitting gray dress that was professional, but clung to her large hips and chest in a way that bordered on risqué greeted him with a beaming red-lipstick smile.

  And there I was in leggings and a roomy sweatshirt without a lick of makeup on with bruises, scratches, and a swollen freaking eye.

  Lovely.

  It had been so long since I worried about things like appearances that the insecurity came on me like a kick to the stomach. I ducked my head, letting my hair fall like a curtain as Ryan greeted the girl by name and promptly led me away toward a golden elevator where he put a keycard into to access.

  It wasn't until we were nestled inside that he spoke to me again. "Sorry, but the elevator is the fastest way to the top floor," he supplied, his tone apologetic. "Hey, look at me, honey," he demanded a moment later when I just kept studying the very shiny marble floor. "Dusty," he attempted again, snagging my chin and forcing my face up. "You're not panicking," he said, as if he was ruling out what could possibly be wrong with me.

  And, well, it was never smart to tell a guy you just started seeing that you were having a bout of insecurity because of some pretty desk attendant at a hotel. If there was one thing guys were sure to hate, it was pointless insecurity.

  Goes without saying I think she's gorgeous if I'm dating her, y'know? That was what Bry had said when he bitched about the girl he was seeing asking him all the time if he was looking at other girls and comparing her to them.

  "I'm alright," I allowed, listening to the floors ding as we passed them. "Rocky..." I said, suddenly remembering him and feeling like a really crummy pet owner.

  "Mark and the porter will bring everything up. Mark has a key," he added.

  Porter.

  You knew a place was fancy when they called a bellhop a porter.

  I looked up as we hit a longer ding, indicating the floor and saw the little readout saying PH.

  Penthouse? Seriously?

  "Here we go," he said, stepping out into the doorway and holding an arm out for me.

  I half-expected to walk into the penthouse itself, but it was a hall that had a door on each side.

  "Can I ask you something?" I asked as the heaviness started in my chest again. I needed to distract myself as Ryan slipped the keycard into the door and it bleeped.

  "Sure."

  "Why do you have a penthouse residence at a hotel when you have an apartment?"

  He let out a low chuckle as he opened the door and went inside. "It's not technically mine. We all, my brothers and my parents, put into this place. Just in case we ever needed or just wanted a place away."

  Their 'place away' was almost ostentatious.

  The whole back wall was floor-to-ceiling windows that looked over the Navesink River. The whole space had an open floor plan from the living space that featured a huge fireplace with seating room in front of it to the dining space to the kitchen. Everything had the same warm tan, white, and brown swirled marble as the elevator from the floors to the kitchen counters. The furniture was all neutrals- white accent chairs, beige couch, medium wood tables.

  "Come on, you want a bath?" he asked, knowing I had a hell of a morning. It was a little thing, but it meant something to me regardless.

  "Yeah," I agreed, letting out a long-held breath as he took my hand and led me down the hall.

  There was a half bath to the right along with a bedroom. But he took me to the left and into the master suite. It had the same color scheme and a giant bed across from a massive TV with no wires hanging anywhere.

  Then there was the master bath. And, well, it was the stuff of dreams. There was more of the same marble on the floors and in the walk-in glass shower. There was a double vanity with huge mirrors and overhead lighting. And, finally, the tub. If I thought my soaking tub was nice, and it was because I spent a lot of time researching it, then this one was extraordinary. In fact, I was pretty sure three people could sit in it comf
ortably. And it wasn't a whirlpool, a personal hatred of mine. It was just a massive soaking tub.

  "Oh my God," I groaned, leaning my head into his arm and he let out a little chuckle.

  "And if I'm not mistaken," he said, releasing my hand to go over into the closet. "Yep. They have those bomb things you like," he told me, bringing out a crazy bright patterned box that I knew on sight must have been Lush. "Use them all if you want," he added, handing it to me and going back to find a towel and a robe.

  So, okay, I could maybe get used to hiding out in a penthouse suite at a swanky hotel.

  The things you learn about yourself while on the run from drug dealers.

  I snorted out loud at my own line of thought, making Ryan's lips tip up as he watched me. "What?"

  "Nothing. This whole thing is just... crazy," I admitted.

  "It's a little... out of the ordinary. I'll give you that. Take your bath. Come back out when you're feeling like yourself again," he told me, giving me a smile, then walking out and closing the door.

  Alone, I wasted very little time getting the water running and the bombs dissolving and my clothes off.

  Faintly, I could hear Ryan and Mark talking, just muffled masculine rumbles that carried across the space toward me in the silent bathroom.

  It was about then that I realized I was alright. I was in a new place and nothing was familiar and it wasn't my style and very few of my comfort items were there, but I was okay. I wasn't losing my mind.

  And that was huge.

  So much had changed in just... days.

  It felt like so much longer, but it was just days.

  I had been trapped for years. Freaking years of my life unable to move, stuck in the same place literally and metaphorically.

  But the strangest thing was, it wasn't that foreign to be out. Maybe because the majority of my life was spent traveling, moving around, seeing and experiencing new things. It wasn't like it was culture shock. I wasn't some poor soul who was like raised in a basement and never saw the real world. It had just been a while. But it wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. I wasn't completely calm, but because it was a big space with all the comforts of home and it wasn't full of a bunch of people, I was actually pretty close to comfortable all things being said.

  Progress.

  I stayed in the bath for who knew how long because bathrooms seemed universally to be rooms without clocks even though it was where most people rushed to get ready for work on a timed schedule, then toweled off and slid into the fluffy, soft bathrobe and walked over to look at myself.

  There was still swelling, though my lip had completely gone down. It was mostly around my eye that was still an ugly shade of purple. But the eyelid was mostly open and you could once again see that I did, in fact, have two green eyes. The swelling was more to the outside of the eye in an arch that went from my eyebrow to the top of my cheekbone. The scratches were still red, but healed over for the most part.

  Not awful.

  Not great, but not awful.

  I pulled the drawers of the vanity open and found a sealed toothbrush along with paste and set to brushing before finally moving out into the bedroom.

  Where I froze.

  The reason for that?

  Yeah, that'd be because Ryan was there.

  Not only was he there, he was shirtless.

  He was sitting off the side of the bed with bare feet but his slacks still on. He was slightly curled forward, his elbows on his knees, looking down.

  I must have gasped or something because his head shot up suddenly and pinned me in place, the heat in them intense. It was then, too, that I realized three other things. One, he had a tattoo. It was on the left side of his chest over his heart- a big, bold piece that looked like it might have been his family's coat of arms. Two, well, the man had a good body. It was something I had imagined, but hadn't really gotten a chance to look him over. His chest was wide, shoulders strong, his abdomen, even sitting, you could make out the firm line of muscles. And the small dark trail that led and disappeared into the waistband of his pants. Oh, and three, yeah, his button and zip were undone.

  Of course, my focus seemed to go and stay there.

  For long enough that when my gaze drifted upward again, his smile was a bit wicked, his eyes even hotter.

  "Come here, honey," he said, his voice a sexy rumble as he raised his arm and held it out, wanting me to walk to him.

  I knew then exactly what was going to happen.

  I knew it.

  And I walked toward it without even the slightest bit of hesitation.

  I stepped between his spread legs and his hands landed over the fluffy material covering the sides of my thighs and drifted upward... then inward. They snagged the sash and as his eyes drifted up to find mine, his fingers pulled and the material split down the center.

  My breath exhaled slowly and his hands whispered to the center of my belly, putting his hands flat there and gently drifting upward between my breasts, over my chest. He moved slowly to stand as his hands slipped under the shoulders and pushed the heavy material down. It slid over my arms, off my fingertips, and pooled in a semicircle around me on the floor.

  But Ryan's eyes didn't drift. He didn't look me over.

  He watched my face.

  He gauged my reaction.

  He wanted to make sure we were going at my pace.

  The move was up to me and I knew it.

  My hands moved out, landing at his wrists and carefully sliding upward over the corded muscles of his forearms and biceps, resting on his strong shoulders for a moment as his eyelids got even heavier, then moving down over his pecs. My finger traced the outline of his coat of arms for a long moment before my hands flattened again and slid down the sides of his abs, watching in fascination as the muscles tensed beneath my touch. They settled on his hips, fingers snagged under the waistbands of his pants and what seemed to be boxer briefs as my gaze moved back up to his face.

  Then, I guess seeing no uncertainty in my face, his hands moved down to my wrists and did the same slow exploration upward then down. Except when they drifted down from my shoulders, his palms closed over my breasts.

  My breath whimpered out of me, my breasts swelling, my nipples hardening into tight points against him, and wet pooling between my thighs.

  God, it had been so, so long.

  His hands slid so his fingertips were at my sides and his thumbs moved circles around my nipples for a long minute before trapping them between his thumbs and forefingers and rolling them with a firm, almost painful pressure.

  My sex tightened hard and my hands pulled at the material keeping the rest of his body from me. The slacks and boxer briefs fell and he stepped out of them. His hands released my breasts and went around to my back, sliding down until he was cupping my bottom, then hauling my whole front to his as his lips crashed down on mine.

  His cock pressed against my belly, promising things, not the least among them- complete fulfillment, stretching me like I had never been before.

  His tongue moved inside to claim mine as one of his hands slid down my thigh to snag my knee, hauling it up and placing it next to his hip, allowing his cock to slide between my folds and stroke upward to press into my clit. I moaned against his lips and he pulled back, eyes watching me, then stroked himself against me again.

  Then he was switching our positions so I was the one with their legs against the bed and he pushed me downward onto it, pressing into my shoulders until I was across it longways. He went down on his knees in front of me, grabbing my knees and pressing them open wide against the mattress.

  I felt his scruff first, scratching up my inner thigh. Then his lips as they pressed soft kisses up the sensitive skin. There was the barest of pauses when his lips met the crease of my thigh before his mouth closed over my clit and sucked hard. I cried out, my hand slamming against the back of his head, my hips arching up into the brilliant, almost blinding pleasure as his tongue started working me in tortuously slow circl
es. His hand stroked up my other thigh as he continued to devour me, moving low and pressing a finger inside me, thrusting lazily for a long minute before another finger joined and the pressure became too intense, too acutely similar to pain.

  And I shattered.

  His name cried out from between my lips as he kept licking, kept thrusting, dragging it out, milking it for all it was worth.

  My hand lessened on his head and his mouth released me, but his fingers stayed inside me, still, but there. He kissed up the triangle above my sex, my belly, licked beneath each swell of my breasts, then closed his lips around my nipple and worked his tongue around it until, although it seemed impossible, it tightened further. He went across my chest to continue the torment as the desire built again, as my sex tightened again.

  And that was exactly when his fingers started thrusting once more. But not slow and soft and sweet- fast, rough, primal.

  His head raised, watching me as he drove me upward again fast- too fast.

  But before the waves could crash over me again, I lost his fingers as he sat back, his knees at the edge of the bed, and slipped his fingers inside his mouth, licking the taste off before reaching into the nightstand and pulling out a condom, making easy work of protecting us before his hands started stroking up my thighs, my sides, my breasts.

  He curled over me, one arm sliding under my body and moving me until I was fully on the bed and, once I was, he came fully over me, bracing his weight on his arms.

  My fingers slid up his arm, the side of his neck, resting just under his jaw, as his cock pressed against me and did a stroke.

  Then, before I even felt him pull back and away, his cock slid inside me in one long, thick, slow stroke.

  There was a slight burning pinch as he stretched me, unused to the invasion after so long, but when he pressed in to the hilt and stilled, his eyes on mine, bodies connected, nothing had ever felt more right, more perfect.

  I had expected soft and sweet, like everything else had been between us.

  But the second he was inside me and our eyes held each others- something seemed to overtake us at the same time. It was something wild, primal, desperate.