“I don’t think we should take him inside,” Carrie said as they crossed the street toward their houses.
He thought of her white pristine couches and agreed. “I have dog shampoo.”
She smiled. “I have a hose.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Except Riley apparently hated the hose as much as he hated being left outside alone. Once he saw what was happening, he sat on the ground and refused to budge.
“Come on, Riley,” Carrie said, still pulling the leash when Ryan came back outside with the shampoo.
Riley held his ground.
“I think he’s winning,” Ryan said.
“I’ll hold him, you get the hose,” she said
Riley wasn’t going to have any of it. As soon as he saw Ryan pick up the hose, he tried to run back toward the park.
“Riley!” Carrie called and clicked the button on his extension leash, stopping him. She dragged him toward her, the leash tightening to the breaking point. Ryan smothered a laugh at the comical look on Riley’s face—abject fear of the hose and absolute stubbornness.
Ryan hurried to her side and took the leash from her. She ran to Riley and tried to usher the dog toward him. Riley splayed his legs, digging his paws into the grass.
“Come on, Riley!” She wrapped her arms around his middle, lifted his front legs, and duck walked the dog toward him. “You are the biggest baby in the world,” she muttered. Ryan almost felt sorry for her as Riley’s muck covered her from head to toe, even swiping across her cheek.
“You’re not helping!” she barked at him.
She was right. He wasn’t. He was enjoying himself too much. He turned on the hose’s nozzle and let it rip. A stream of water covered them both with icy spray.
Carrie yelled in outrage as Riley squirmed in her arms. And then Ryan was on them, spraying them both down. Carrie flung herself on top of Riley, pinning him to keep him from bolting. Ryan managed to spray them both thoroughly before turning off the nozzle. He grabbed the shampoo and poured it down the length of Riley’s back. The smell emitting from his wet pond-scum coat was overpowering.
He and Carrie both worked the shampoo into his fur, rubbing and massaging until the dog was covered in suds. And still he flailed around, trying to escape.
“I don’t think there’s a dog on the planet who hates getting bathed more than this one,” he said as he struggled to hold on to the slippery animal. By the time the dog was thoroughly washed, he and Carrie had as much shampoo on themselves as Riley did on him.
“Are we ready to rinse?” he asked.
“Now is as good a time as any,” Carrie muttered. She didn’t look like she was having fun. Neither was he, but he was having a damn good time looking at her in her wet sudsy clothes.
Ryan picked up the hose and turned on the nozzle. As expected, Riley fought them at every turn. Ryan practically had to jump on top of the dog to hold him steady enough to rinse all the suds out of his long fur. But then Riley started to turn, to rotate around in an attempt to shake him off. Carrie jumped in, throwing herself across the dog and trying to hold him steady, when the hose got loose.
Ryan grabbed for it, but fell off Riley and onto his back. The house sprayed high in the sky to rain back down on them both.
“I got it!” Carrie grabbed for the hose, pinching it in her hand and gasping in deep breaths as she collapsed again. “Why couldn’t your sister have had a Chihuahua?”
“What, and miss all this fun?” He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed this hard.
She turned her head and looked at him. “You call this fun?”
He glanced at her tee shirt and waggled his eyebrows. “Very fun.”
She looked down and saw her vibrant pink bra showing clearly through the wet fabric. “I can’t believe you!” She released the hose and gave him a face full of water.
“Hey, now!” He grabbed for the hose. She pulled back and then they were rolling on the wet sudsy grass, wrestling for it, Riley barking up a storm. The next thing he knew, he was lying on top of her, water raining down on them both and without giving it another thought, he kissed her.
…
The moment Ryan’s lips pressed against Carrie’s, the chill brought on by her wet clothes evaporated in a surge of warmth. His tongue swept into her mouth and it was all she could do to swallow a deep moan. What was she doing? She should stop him. Her fingers clawed at his arm, sweeping up his strong biceps to do just that. But instead of pushing him away, she clutched his shoulders and kissed him back. So much for taking things slow, keeping it casual. She was lying on the grass in front of her house, soaking wet and ready to rip off her clothes and screw this man until she was senseless.
To hell with slow. She’d wanted this man since she’d met him, and maybe the thing she needed to de-stress was to finally give in to what she wanted, for once.
“Carrie,” he groaned as he broke the kiss and rolled off of her.
Come back, she wanted to say.
“We can’t do this,” he said aloud, though she didn’t know if he was talking to her or himself.
She rolled toward him. “What? Kiss? Why not?”
“I’d say that was more than a kiss.”
The mere fact that her insides were still burning was testament to that, and apparently it affected him as much as had her. The thought made her want him even more. “Was it?” she teased.
He gave her a look that asked are you kidding? “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to go back to work and focus on my job when all I want to do is lay here and stare at you.”
“Just stare?”
He pulled her against him. “I already have enough distracting thoughts racing through my mind, are you trying to give me more?”
“Never,” she insisted. “I know how important this job is to you. I wouldn’t want to do anything that would get in the way of your success.” Her gaze slid down his wet clothes to linger on the pronounced bulge in his pants. She slipped out her tongue and licked her lips.
“You are pure evil,” he said.
“Am I?” Her tone was innocent, but the playful thoughts circling her mind were not.
He kissed her again. Long and hard and fervently. “Very evil.”
“I just want what I want,” she breathed.
“Later,” he promised.
“Later.” She took a deep steadying breath. “You’re right. If we continue making out in the front yard like a couple of teenagers, the neighbors are going to talk.”
“In San Francisco? I doubt it.”
“Hey, this is a family-oriented neighborhood.”
“Then we better get you and your wet tee-shirt in the house.”
She grinned. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m going in to take a very cold shower. I’m late back to work as it is already, but I will be back to continue this.”
“Is that a warning?”
“A promise.”
Carrie watched him walk away, then got up to go inside and take a cold shower of her own. “Come on, Riley. Let’s go in,” she called, a smile still lingering on her lips.
Riley was already at the door by the time she picked up their mess and met him there. It was a good thing Ryan was so committed to his work. If he’d been willing, she would have jumped right into bed with him. Obviously there was something going on between them. Perhaps they could try giving into it and see where it took them? Keep things strictly physical with no strings attached. This way he could focus on his work, and she on her art without any messy complications. And when he found out she was once married to Stu? She sighed. She’d have to tell him, and sooner rather than later.
Chapter Ten
Ryan tried everything he could think of to get Carrie out of his mind, but just when he thought that he’d be able to focus on his work, he’d remember the feel of her lips on his. Her taste. Her touch. And he’d be physically unable to concentrate. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so excited for a woman. He shouldn�
��t have stopped the kiss. Maybe if he’d let things progress the way they were going, he wouldn’t be in such a state now. But what if she turned him away?
The sensible thing would be to take it slow, especially since she lived right next door, but he didn’t want to take it slow. He wanted to see her again. Regardless of the risks and complications of sleeping with his neighbor, he wanted her, and he was no longer going to deny himself. An hour and a half later he was knocking on Carrie’s door.
“I didn’t know what you liked so I got a little bit of everything,” he said, holding up three bags of Chinese. “Can we talk?”
“Talk?” She angled her body toward him. “Only if we can eat, too. It smells great, and I’m starving.”
“Absolutely.” He followed her into the kitchen, and she took the bags from him, her fingers brushing his in the process. He sucked in a breath.
She placed the bags on the table and started to unload them. “Wine or beer?”
“Wine.”
He watched her moving about the kitchen and tried to gauge her mood. Was she embarrassed about earlier, or did she want to forget the food and get down to the kissing part as badly as he did? The way she kept looking at him, stealing glances…was she trying to determine his mood, too? He bit his bottom lip, hungry for a lot more than Chinese.
She handed him two glasses. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”
Was he ready to tell her? To say it out loud? To admit that he couldn’t stop thinking about her? Why did she suddenly look so nervous?
“Is it about your project at work? How’s that going?” she asked as she opened a bottle of red and placed it on the table next to the glasses.
Work, now there was a thought that was the equivalent of a cold shower. “We’re getting there. Slowly. The company recently lost a big account so there’s a lot of pressure from the boss to pull this one out.”
“You’ll do it.” Along with the plates, she grabbed the silverware, napkins, and servings spoons and carried them to the table.
“But, no. That’s not what I wanted to talk about,” he said, as he sat and loaded his plate.
“Oh?”
“How was your afternoon? Riley give you any trouble?” he asked, stalling. He looked at the dog, who was snoozing in his new bed.
“Not at all. The afternoon just flew by. I processed the pictures I took of him at the park and hung them up on the wall in my office…uh, studio.” She grimaced at the slip. “I’ll show them to you after we’re done.”
Ryan pushed his plate back. “Done.”
She grinned. “That was quick. But no, you’re not getting off that easy. Spill.”
He shrugged apologetically. “Okay, the truth is I don’t care about dinner or making small talk. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss all afternoon, and I know the timing isn’t great for either of us, but when is it? I like you, and I’d like to pursue this.” He gestured between them. “And see where it takes us.”
She didn’t say anything, only stood and carried the empty plates into the kitchen, and then picked up the bottle of wine and refilled their glasses. He watched her every move and when her eyes met and held his, his chest lurched. He had to stop himself from pulling her down onto his lap. “I know it’s fast. We just met but I wanted nothing more than to keep kissing you in that wet grass today.”
“Come see the photos.” She held out her hand. He took it and stood.
Wine in hand, he followed her into the second bedroom and perused the pictures she had taped to the wall, wondering if she was going to give him an answer, or continue to leave him hanging. “Riley looks like he had a blast,” he said finally.
She was standing close. Close enough that he could smell her floral shampoo. It made him recall all too easily the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her lips. Her softness. Her heat. “He’s a handful,” he muttered.
She pulled one of the pictures off the wall and handed it to him. “Keep it.”
He looked at the picture of Riley running through the water, several ducks in mid-flight. “It’s really good. You have quite an eye.”
She brightened at the compliment. “Thanks.”
He looked around the room, at the desk under the window covered in computer equipment she hadn’t yet hooked up, at the unopened boxes lined up against the far wall.
She followed his gaze. “I’m contemplating putting it all in the garage and making this a studio instead.”
“Not quite ready to let it all go?”
She grinned. “It’s a process.”
He followed her back into the living room where he sat down on the couch. She refilled their glasses then sat next to him, turning her body so she was fully facing him. He moved just a little bit closer. He couldn’t wait any longer, he had to kiss her.
She stopped him with a hand to his chest. “I like you, Ryan.”
“You do?” he asked, and he had to smile. He’d hoped so. He was close enough to feel her heat, the brush of her breath, to see the ridges of her teeth as she worried her bottom lip. “But?”
“But what happened the other night, today on the grass…it’s all I’ve been able to think about. It was too…”
“I know. Our chemistry—“
“Is unbelievable. Some people never have that.”
Her tongue darted out to moisten those plump, irresistible lips. He shifted even closer, so close their legs were touching.
“I don’t usually do that,” she said.
He inched closer. She didn’t pull back. He took that as a good sign and kissed her, tasting, exploring, feeling the chemistry that once more set them ablaze. “Do what?” he asked when he came up for air.
“This.” She pulled him to her again.
They kissed long and hard, even as a little voice warned him to take things slow. She was his neighbor. His dog sitter. Someone he needed to keep things simple with. No attachments. No messy strings. Tread lightly. But it had been too late for that the moment he walked though her door. With his tongue in her mouth—tasting, sparring, devouring—the voice was quashed.
He pulled back, breathless. “Are you sure?” he asked, giving himself that last out, that split second to come to his senses, for them both to walk away. And since he wasn’t strong enough, maybe she…
“Yes,” she insisted, and kissed his jaw, his neck, running her tongue down to his collarbone. Her fingers worked the buttons on his shirt. He sucked in a deep breath. He wanted her so badly, he ached with it. He had ever since he’d first seen her at the wedding. He’d been there to support his co-worker, but instead he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her. And when the rest of his team left, he’d stayed. Their interrupted passion that night had only served to make him hotter for her. Her scent filled him—warm, sweet musk mingling with the floral scent from her hair. There was something between them, something more than incredibly hot chemistry.
And it scared the shit out of him.
He paused, catching his breath, taking in the wildness of her curls, the heavy-lidded passion in her eyes, and then dove back in. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He felt it in her touch. Her kiss. The way she pushed against him. It was an irresistible elixir. Her fingers had undone all his buttons and she was pushing the shirt off his shoulders. Her touch was lighting fire to his nerve endings. He had to have her, to feel her skin against his. To feel her touching and kissing him. Everywhere. And then her mouth was on his, taking exactly what she wanted. Meeting him spar for spar. Blood rushed to his groin and he stiffened, growing so hard he was about to burst. He ached with the pain of it, the need. And then her hand was there, on top of him, moving, squeezing, pushing. Easing his torment and increasing it at the same time.
He pushed his hands up under her shirt, running them across her smooth skin. He wanted to feel her. Her heartbeat throbbed under his palm. Her breath captured his need. Her full breasts filled his hands. Their warmth. Their softness. The hard little peaks, tightening beneath his touch. He rubb
ed them, gently pulling them between his fingers. Leaning back, she pulled her shirt up over her head, yanked off her bra, and bared herself to him.
Her fullness, her perfection made him burn. He dropped his head and pulled a taut nipple into his mouth, sucking, his hand playing with the other. She leaned back, pulling him with her, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She slipped one hand between them, her firm touch stroking his erection through his pants. And then she was fumbling with his buttons, setting him free. He ached for her.
“Carrie,” he breathed, her name a pleading whisper.
“Let’s go to the bedroom.”
He pushed off her and stood. She took his hands in hers and led him down hall, dropping articles of clothing along the way.
“Wait,” he said, and pulled out his wallet, digging through it until he held up the condom. “This time I’m prepared.”
She smiled. “This time there will be no running away.”
…
Carrie knew she should be taking it slow, but she hadn’t wanted anyone like this for so long. She was ready to pull down those walls and let him in. And let herself enjoy this. His mouth covered hers, stealing her ability to think as his tongue worked its magic and she lost herself in his kiss. His hands—warm, strong, and attentive—were on her again, removing all doubts.
She liked the feel of him in her bed. The smell of his skin, the heat of his touch. His fingers stroked her in the most exquisite way. It had been so long since she’d shared herself with anyone. Since she let down her guard enough to allow someone to get that close. She’d missed this. She could really get used to it. To him.
But he worked for Stu. She had to tell him the truth—but then his fingers found her sweet spot, rubbing and circling, and set her on fire once again. She was overthinking this. This was casual sex. Really, really good casual sex. They weren’t getting married, for chrissakes. But the truth was, she was going to end up in a dark corner in hell for this. She knew it. And once he found out she knew and didn’t tell him? She’d never have him in her bed again. She sighed. But right then, with his fingers working their magic, heating her blood and stealing her breath, she didn’t care. This was beyond chemistry. It had to be. She barely knew him, and yet she did. He made her feel good. He made her feel like a woman, not a hard-driving machine to be used and thrown away.
Going All the Way (Kiss the Bride #1) Page 8
