And hers.
As soon as our lips collide my heart beats wildly against my ribs. No wonder it needs a fucking cage. I feel desperate and determined to keep this woman forever. Longer than forever. Everything I told her today was true, more than I even knew until the words came spilling out. But the choice to marry her was clear and unmistakable. I want this. I want her.
Even if I can’t say it, I plan to show her just how much I fucking care. It may not be the fairytale she imagined, but I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to be the best version of myself I can be. Just call me Ryan Fucking Charming.
By the time we finally break our kiss, the sun is almost fully set and Edward is nowhere to be found. For a split second I think I dreamt the whole thing, so I reach out to cup Kelley’s face. I feel her warm skin beneath my palm, reassuring me that this is real.
She looks at me with a shy smile. “That really happened.”
“Yeah, babe, it did.” I rest my forehead on hers.
She blushes and looks so goddamn beautiful that I can’t wait any longer to get her alone and bury myself inside her. I grab her hand and pull her toward our hotel.
As soon as we get inside our room I pin her against the back of the door, careful not to hurt her or the baby, but feeling like a fucking animal. Her soft whimpers have me pulling back, realizing she deserves more than some quick fuck against the door. She deserves to be fucking worshipped, and that’s exactly what I plan to do. I may not be able to tell her I love her yet, but I can sure as shit show her.
I press one last kiss to her lips before slowing down and leading her to the foot of the king sized bed. I let my hands explore her body before I pull off her shirt and slide down her pants, needing to see every unexposed part of her. When I have her completely bare before me it’s as if all the air is sucked from my lungs. Never before has the thought of a pregnant chick done anything for me, but seeing this pregnant chick—my wife—carrying our child, an entire person only the two of us could have created together . . . well let’s just say my dick approves. A lot.
I kneel before her and press a kiss to her right ankle, slowly making my way up her body, kissing across every inch of her skin. When I get to her lips, I slide my tongue across them, craving her fucking intoxicating taste. She moans into my mouth before desperately begging, “Please Ryan. I need you. All of you.”
I remove my own clothes and guide her to lay on the bed. I crawl up to spoon her small body. From this position I can support her leg, which I lift to angle myself at her entrance from behind. I kiss her shoulder and the spot right at the base of her neck, whispering that she’s mine. I slowly push myself inside her, taking my time to feel every inch of her. She feels even more incredible than ever before. I don’t know that I can say I ever made love to a woman before, but if it’s always like this, I’ll give up merely fucking for the rest of my life. But I know this is an experience I’ll only ever get to share with Kelley Brooks.
No longer able to hold back, I grip her thigh, stretching her wider, and thrust deeper. Her moans let me know she’s more than ok with it. I continue my pace until I feel her muscles contract, and a pleasured cry falls from her lips. I allow myself to let go a second later, burying my face in her neck. Once we both have a chance to recover, I move to lay on the opposite side, needing to look into her eyes. A satisfied smile spreads across her lips as her eyelids get heavy. I pull the covers over us and wrap her in my arms. Once I hear her breath go slow and steady, I kiss her forehead and run my fingers over her stomach, tracing a distinct straight line, two arches with a point, and a curve.
I <3 U
Kelley
Oh my god. What have I done?
I bolt up in bed, the events of last night replaying in my head. The last thing I remember is falling asleep in Ryan’s arms.
Oh, and that was after we got married and had the most amazing sex ever.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Marrying Ryan Blake was not part of the plan. Our situation was meant to be short-lived . . . it was supposed to be fake. There is no way what we did last night is right. I mean the man has never even said he loves me and I went and fucking married him. I got so caught up in our pretend relationship that I couldn’t think straight. I’ve just wanted this for so long . . . the family, the marriage, the husband . . .
But not like this. Not when our entire relationship has been based on a lie. There is no way he really loves me—it must be a game to him. A challenge. He’s never even been in a relationship and now he thinks he can take on being a father and a husband? And what will happen to me—to our son—when Ryan realizes he made a mistake? So he threw some of his money around to decorate a nursery and he charmed my parents into liking him—big fucking deal. That doesn’t actually prove he has feelings for me. There is, after all, a reason he’s always kept women at a distance. Why would I be any different in the end? Forever is a long time to promise someone who was meant to be temporary.
I knew it was dangerous to get too close to Ryan Blake. I knew I would fall for him a little more every single minute of being around him, despite the fact he is not even close to being Mr. Right. And then he had to go and say all sorts of shit I wanted—and needed—to hear last night that I let myself believe it was right. But it’s not. I can’t do this.
I look over to see that Ryan is still sleeping, and immediately slide myself out of bed. I grab my clothes and dash to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I pull on my pants and shirt and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
You, Kelley Brooks, are an idiot.
I know I have to get out of here as soon as possible, so I slip out of the bathroom, attempting to hold back tears as I simultaneously try to quiet the tiny voice inside my head that’s telling me I’m just scared to admit I actually love him . . . that somehow what we have is real. Love shouldn’t be scary, though, right? It should be wonderful and magical, not some secret, rushed affair on a secluded beach in the middle of nowhere. That’s not real life, no way.
I scribble a quick message on the hotel notepad sitting on the side table, grab my things, and quickly, but quietly, leave the room. I move as fast as my swollen, pregnant legs will carry me, grabbing my cell out of my bag to call a cab as I make my way outside.
A couple of hours later the cab pulls up to Ryan’s apartment. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. I cried silent tears the whole ride home.
Home.
No matter how much I want to believe that’s what this place has been for the past nine months, I don’t belong here. I never did.
I’m hoping I have enough of a head start to grab my things and my car keys before Ryan even discovers I left. I make a beeline for the elevator and let myself into the apartment. I go to the bedroom where I throw some clothes in a bag before heading back down the hall to leave. As I make my way to the kitchen I rifle through my purse to find my keys. I finally find them and reach for the front door when I find myself face to face with the most intense, angry blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Care to tell me what the fuck this is about, Brooks?”
Ryan
“Care to tell me what the fuck this is about, Brooks?”
I hold up the scrap of paper I woke up to find beside my empty hotel bed and place it on the counter.
Last night was a mistake. I’m sorry.
Kelley looks nervous as she places her bag on the floor. She fucking packed a bag already?
She looks sadly at the note and lets out a deep sigh before saying, “We both know it’s true . . . we got caught up and took things a little too far.”
I cross my arms, challenging her. “And which part was the mistake, exactly? Marrying me or begging me to fuck you?”
She winces at my harsh words, but I don’t care. I want everything out in the fucking open. When I woke up to find she had left . . . fuck. Let’s just say it’s been a long time since I felt abandoned. This is what happens when I give in and let a weakness get the better of me.
She looks at me with such fucking sad, wounded eyes I’m caught off guard. “What the fuck? Of course I do.”
“Then say it.”
I pretend I don’t know what she’s talking about. I hate feeling this out of control. She’s never said it either, so what if she’s trying to play some sick fucking mind games? “Say what?”
She throws me an accusatory glare. “This is what I mean. We had a deal and you had to go and mess it all up.”
Afraid I might lose my fucking mind, I instinctively get defensive. “Oh, so now it’s all my fucking fault. If that’s the case why bother apologizing?” I toss her note angrily on the kitchen counter.
She stares at me powerfully and steels her fists before shouting, “Because I am sorry. I’m sorry I moved in with you, I’m sorry we lied to everyone, and I’m sorry we pretended to be together. But most of all I’m sorry I ever screwed you on that stupid fucking storage shed floor in the first place!”
Her words feel like a sharp knife to my gut. I grind my teeth together, trying to stop the pain from tearing through my chest. “I never forced you to stay. If you didn’t want this you should have said so.”
“Well I’m saying it now! I need love, Ry, true love, not whatever we have . . . this just hurts. If I want to give fate a chance I have to stop messing around by pretending this fake relationship means something more.”
That makes me grunt sarcastically before raising my own voice to shout. “Fate could be pounding down your fucking door, Kell, but you’d be too busy dreaming to even hear it. Although apparently unless a guy is riding some sissy fucking white horse it means nothing. You think that shit is real? Maybe love is supposed to fucking hurt and that’s how you know it’s real.” I motion between us. “We’re real. This is real. You spout all this bullshit about true love but I don’t think you even know what that fucking means.” I turn and grip the back of my head, frustrated she can be so blind to what’s right in front of her. If I can see it, why the hell can’t she? Maybe I haven’t been the best about verbally expressing my feelings, but haven’t my actions proven anything?
Things get real quiet before I hear her speak in a near whisper behind me. “You just think it’s real because we’ve been pretending for so long we can’t tell where the lie ends and the truth begins.”
I hear a soft clink before the door opens and closes with a final thud.
I turn to find my grandmother’s ring resting on the cold, bare counter next to a loop of twine. That, along with the torment of her words ringing in my ears, keeps me from going after her. I put my heart on the fucking line only to have it ripped to shreds. She doesn’t want me. She doesn’t want us. Why should she? I was an asshole to think I could be different for her. My half-assed attempt at love wasn’t enough, and I don’t fucking blame her for wanting more. I let my guard down to give into some sweet, sick craving, and, like all addicts, am left with nothing but pain. Pain I feel, pain I caused. My past finally caught up to me and in the end my son will grow up without a father just like I tried to avoid in the first place. Great fucking job, Blake.
I storm into the kitchen and tear open the top cabinet, tossing shit aside until I find the one thing I’m looking for buried in the back. I forcefully break the seal on the bottle of Jack and pour a generous amount into a glass. Desperate to do anything that will numb the fucking throbbing agony twisting deep in the pit of my chest, I bring the cup to my lips. At the last second before it reaches my tongue, I catch a glimpse of my damaged reflection rippling through the bottom of the amber liquid. Fuck! I pull my arm back and violently throw it with full force against the kitchen wall. With my head in my hands I slink down amidst the broken glass, letting the liquor pool on the floor around me.
Kelley
As soon as the door closes behind me, I can’t help but feel like I’ve made yet another huge mistake. I look down to my naked finger, which makes the pit of my stomach feel hollow.
No, it’s not real . . . it can’t be real. Ryan Blake plus Kelley Brooks do not equal a happily ever after.
As much as I wanted to believe differently, they just don’t.
I head to the elevators, needing to put as much distance between Ryan and I as possible. It’s the only way out of this.
When I enter the lobby I see Darrin smiling. I try to hide my red, splotchy face from view but it’s no use.
As he comes over to help me as I struggle with my bag he can immediately tell I’m upset. “Hey hun, what’s wrong?”
All it takes is his big, warm hand on my shoulder and sympathetic eyes staring at me to cause a full on breakdown. A fresh wave of tears stream down my cheeks, and this time they’re loud, ugly, and blubbering.
Darrin’s face clouds with concern as he tries to soothe me, pulling me into a giant bear hug. “Oh boy. It’s ok. Hey, now . . . there, there.”
I take a few gulps of air, trying to regain some semblance of composure as I realize how embarrassing this is. It doesn’t help Darrin’s shirt is now soaked with my tears. And probably some snot too.
With one hand he reaches for his handkerchief and slips it to me between us. I nod into his chest to indicate my gratitude and blow my nose. Loudly. Once my all-out sobs turn to a mild whimper, Darrin cautiously releases me.
“You want to tell me what happened?”
I shake my head. “It’s all so complicated. This isn’t how my life is supposed to turn out. I’m supposed to meet the right guy, fall in love, get married, and start a family, not be pregnant while getting married and then fall in love.” I sniffle at the absurdity of the situation.
Darrin must be confused as hell, but thankfully he doesn’t show it. He just pats my cheek and says, “That’s what always screws us up the most, isn’t it? Picturing what should or could have been. You can’t live your life with a bunch of what-ifs. The best you can do is wake up every day and ask yourself, ‘Am I happy?’ If the answer is no, you do something to change it. But if it’s a yes, well then you go on and let yourself be happy.”
His simple way of looking at the world fascinates me. Can it really be that easy?
“I don’t think I can do that.” I admit truthfully.
“Sure you can. Isn’t that why you were with Ryan in the first place—because he makes you happy?”
He eyes me with an expectant smirk. I look down at my feet, not wanting to think about how Ryan makes me feel. “I don’t know,” I whisper.
Darrin reaches down to pick up my bag and holds it out to me. He says in a serious yet playful tone, “Well then that’s probably the first thing you need to figure out.”
Ryan
Thirty-seven Weeks
Thirty-six.
There are thirty-six things in this room that remind me of Kelley.
It’s been thirty-six hours since I’ve seen her.
It took me thirty-six weeks to realize I loved her.
And it took about thirty-six seconds to lose her when she walked out the door.
I fucking hate the number thirty-six.
A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. I debate answering, but the pounding gets louder, pissing me off. I get off the couch and violently swing open the door to reveal Lucas and Kinsley.
I don’t even bother saying anything. I just turn and stalk back to the couch, muttering “Fucking great,” under my breath.
They follow me in anyway, and Lucas asks, “You ready to go?”
“Go where?” I bite, having no clue what the fuck he’s talking about.
“Out for your birthday dinner, smartass. Now where’s Kelley? I’m starved.”
Lucas starts looking around the apartment and I want to hit something. I clearly forgot about tonight and I sure as shit don’t feel like celebrating. “She’s not fucking here. I have shit to do tonight anyway so you guys can just go.”
They obviously pick up on my not-so-s
ubtle shitty attitude, but before Luc can give me crap for it Kinsley steps in. “Did something happen with Kelley?”
“No, it’s just fucking over is all. Hell, it was never anything to begin with. The point is she left, and I’m busy tonight so can we do this some other time?”
“Dude, what the hell? It’s not like you to be so goddamn pissy.” I can tell Lucas is concerned, even if he doesn’t sound it.
But I’m so fucked up over everything that’s happened the only way I know how to react is to snap. “You don’t know shit about me.”
Most people would leave at this point, but Lucas knows me well enough not to be bothered by my rare outbursts. “Well, well. Look whose turn it is to be heartbroken.” He turns toward Kinsley saying, “Sorry, babe—I’m glad we’re good now,” before grinning back at me. He must be referring to the fact he couldn’t get out of bed when Kinsley kicked his ass to the curb last year.
“Fuck you. At least I’m not pretending to be sick like some kind of pussy. The door’s over there, asshole.”
Lucas just laughs. “Payback’s a bitch.”
I glare at him before Kinsley steps between us. “Ok guys, put ‘em back in your pants.” She presses a quick kiss to Lucas’ lips before saying, “How about you go wait in the car? I’ll be right down.”
Luc looks like he wants to protest, but nods in agreement before heading out the door. Before he leaves he calls back, “I know how much you must be hurting so I’m going to forgive you for being such a dick. But you better be nice to my wife or I’ll have to kick your ass.”
I grunt as the door closes behind him. I try to avoid Kinsley’s stare. Lucas I can deal with, but Kinsley? I have a feeling she knows how to see right through me.
She plops down on the couch next to me before joking, “So that whole control thing . . . it’s working out well for you I see.”
Mad Addiction (Crazy Beautiful #2) Page 15
