My Sexiest Mistake
Page 6
He was right, she thought. But he’d still been out of line. “It never occurred to you to try to set the record straight?”
“Of course it did,” he said impatiently, then closed his eyes and shook his head. “From the minute I figured out what was going on I was trying to find a way out that would let me set things straight and still keep this going.”
“‘This’ meaning the sex, of course,” she said frostily.
“This meaning being with you. And yes, the sex—it’s not like we’ve spent a lot of time talking politics or philosophy. But what we had together felt pretty damned good, and at the time I wanted it to keep going more than I wanted to come clean. I came over here tonight thinking I’d tell you everything. Until you answered the door looking like that.” He stopped for a moment. “I’m not proud of it, but there it is.”
She stared into his eyes, softening. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to be with him, to feel the way she had that morning. If only… Her breath huffed out in frustration. In all honesty she was as bad as he was, searching for a justification for keeping it going instead of recognizing it for what it was and letting it go.
Cade raised his head and looked at her. “You’ve obviously been planning this ever since you found out today. So what happens now? Please, fill me in. I’m all tied up in knots over it,” he finished sarcastically.
Ryan looked at him stretched out on the bed, his skin gleaming copper-colored in the candlelight. Heat flared in her blood, driven this time not by anger but by passion. “Well, it looks to me like I have you at my mercy.” She rose to lean over the bed and brush a palm over the smooth, hard lines of his belly. “Your punishment is that I get to amuse myself with your body until I’m ready to let you go.”
Standing, she shrugged out of her dressing gown, letting it slide down her arms to pool on the floor. Then she kicked off her shoes and sank down on the bed beside him. “You see, I’ve always been very curious about the male body. Outside of last night, I’ve never even seen a naked man up close before, at least not in the light. The only things I know are what I’ve read in Cosmo.” She gave him a serious stare. “I don’t know what parts are sensitive or what will make you moan, or even how the equipment works.” She kissed him hard, then drew back. “Tonight, I get to experiment.”
“You’re not seriously expecting me to cooperate with this, are you?” Irritation replaced the momentary empathy in his eyes. “I’m not some lab monkey.”
“No, indeed, Mr. Douglas. I’d say you’re all man.” She smiled wickedly. “And I hope you’ve been taking your vitamins. Tonight, you’re going to need them.”
Hell of a position to be in, Cade thought. On the other hand, he could think of worse punishments than having someone play with his body and looking for what pleased him most.
That didn’t mean he planned to enjoy this.
Ryan leaned over to the bedside table and came back with a feather. With excruciating slowness, she traced the soft tip over the lines of his face, stroking his brow and his cheeks, teasing his closed eyelids, tracing the line of his lips. Then she went lower, writing swirling patterns like cursive script over his arms, his palms, his chest. He stiffened as she dropped lower to trace over his torso, then his flat belly. He sucked in a breath as she drew down close to his hips, feeling the moist heat of her breath fanning over his skin as the feather tip trailed along. He steeled himself not to react as he felt her trace circles on the sensitive skin of his hips, but instead of going to the next obvious destination, she twirled it down over his legs and stroked the tender flesh of his instep in a surprisingly erotic caress.
He couldn’t stop it any longer and was starting to react when the tip of the feather suddenly traced the hardening tip of him. He caught his breath.
Ryan tossed the feather aside and rose onto her hands and knees. Dropping her head, she let her hair spill down onto his chest. Slowly she dragged it down his torso so that just the ends stroked over his chest, his hips, and beyond. Swaying, she ran it down his legs then back up again, across his arms and back down his chest.
The silky brush of her hair brought his skin to a state of exquisite sensitivity. The anticipation was as much a part of the experience as the touch. When the soft spill of hair stroked over his most tender parts, he bit back a groan. This was something new, and he liked it more than he wanted to. The teasing touch was lighter than hand or mouth, and more tantalizing than either.
Then he felt her lips against his neck, trailing down over his shoulder then over to linger over his nipples, kissing the newly sensitized skin. Her lips traveled lower and he felt himself stir in anticipation. Instead of touching him, though, she stopped and straightened up.
“You know, this merry widow feels very sexy but it’s starting to get hot.” She straddled him and reached down to begin unfastening the long chain of hooks that wound down the front of the garment. Her breasts spilled out first, then a growing triangle of white skin appeared. Hook by hook, the triangle widened, exposing rosy nipples, soft white breasts, and her flat, smooth stomach. Finally she finished and tossed it away, sitting astride him gloriously naked. How he wanted to fill his hands with her breasts, feel their weight and softness. Instead, he pulled his hands impotently at the ropes.
“Now, now, don’t get impatient,” she chided him. “Everything in good time.” She moved back down his body to stare at his hardening erection. There was no sense in pretending that he wasn’t aroused. In fact, he wanted to drag her close and stop the teasing, erase this maddening need that was overtaking him.
Ryan traced her tongue down the hard heat of him, feeling the incredibly arousing contrast of the slippery skin against her lips. She took her time, stopping to dwell whenever she heard his breath come fast or felt his hips twitch. Finally, she slid him into her mouth, ripping a groan from his throat.
Then she stopped and leaned over to pluck a condom from the bedside table. “Let’s just put one of these on you, shall we?” She unwrapped it and rolled it down the length of his shaft. “I thought the slippery kind sounded best.”
She straddled him again until she was poised just above where his pulsing erection lay flat against his belly. Holding her breath, she lowered herself until she was pressed against his hot flesh. Her innermost folds closed around him. Then she moved her hips so that she slid against him to feel him hard and hot against the slick swollen bud of her sex. She was ready. With each motion of her hips she rubbed herself against him, teasing them both with the slick, intimate caress of skin against skin. Swiveling her hips slowly, she stroked herself and him, inflaming their increasing arousal. She stared down into Cade’s face. His eyes were dark with desire, and she leaned in to take his mouth with hers.
He kissed her back hard, parting her lips, his tongue darting in to duel with hers before she pulled away. She knew the slow stroking of her softness against him was driving him mad. He pulled futilely against his bonds and ground his teeth.
Ryan felt her body start to shudder in climax as she swiveled her hips against Cade, then she was jolting and feeling the heat and glow surge through her. Before she was even done, she reached down and slid him swiftly into her. Their groans came in tandem as his heat speared deep inside.
It took her breath away. For a moment she was absolutely still, absorbing the feeling of having him fill her. It was excruciatingly exquisite, the hardness, the heat. Her one brief encounter had never felt like this, the slow, hot flow of arousal running through her body. Instead, she put her hands on his shoulders for balance and began to ride up and down on him. It was impossible to keep from moaning at the glorious friction as he slid in and out, as she felt him get harder and thicker with every stroke. Second by second, the intensity increased, her muscles tightened as she drove herself to a higher and higher pitch of arousal. This was what she’d been missing, this, this…this…
She looked into his face again, drawn tight with an ecstasy that looked like pain, and slid forward to kiss him.
“Oh h
oney, I can’t hold back,” he whispered raggedly.
It put her over the edge and her body bucked with a second climax.
Feeling her soft heat convulse around him took him past control and he spilled himself deep inside her.
THE PAST FEW HOURS HAD been hands down the most memorable of his life, Cade thought, but he was beginning to wonder just when she planned to let him go. Her body was a comforting warmth as she dozed against his chest, and after everything, damned if he didn’t want to put an arm around her and pull her to him. Except that he was still tied up.
He looked past the clutter of condom wrappers to where the digital clock blinked to 2:00 a.m. “Ryan.” He jiggled a bit to wake her. “Ryan.”“Huh?” she asked groggily, then snuggled next to him with a little purring noise.
“Ryan.” He joggled her again until she muttered. “It’s two o’clock in the morning. You’ve had your fun, now wake up. I’ve got meetings all day tomorrow…today,” he corrected himself.
Ryan sat up and stretched, feeling an unaccustomed soreness throughout her body. Had her fun was an understatement. She blinked, coming back to awareness. It was done, she thought, the slow realization giving her a sharp pang of regret. Now the only thing left was for her to get away safely and count herself lucky.
Except that she didn’t feel lucky at all.
Slowly she got up off the bed and scooped her robe off the floor, sliding her arms into the sleeves as she wandered into the bathroom, yawning sleepily. Her body felt unfamiliar to her, as though it wasn’t hers anymore. She could smell his scent on her skin and it pulled at her. It wasn’t fair that he was wound so deeply into her brain. This was over, it was done with, she thought as she stripped in front of the mirror. She was going to walk out the door and that would be the end of it. She’d never see him again.
Ryan spun the knob on the shower and stepped into the hot gush of water, holding her hair up with one hand. The stream brought her back to some degree of alertness. Okay, so she had a strong, agile, and fairly ticked-off man tied to a bed. The question was, how did she set him loose and get out the door in one piece? She turned the temperature to cold and came fully awake.
Stepping out, she dried herself off with a soft, fluffy towel. Her face looked strange, she thought as she glanced in the mirror, her eyes heavy-lidded and somehow wiser. As she pulled on her street clothes her body felt almost too sensitive for the touch of anything.
Anything but Cade’s skin.
She touched her forehead against the cool glass. It had to end, obviously, but it was so hard. It was like giving up air.
She turned back to the shower and spun the taps, flipping a lever to send water gushing into the claw-footed tub. Walking back out into the room, she picked up Cade’s shirt and hooked a finger through a belt loop on his trousers.
“What are you doing?” he asked sharply.
Ryan shook her head at him. “Can’t hear you over the water. I’ll just be a minute.” Steam billowed around her as she walked into the bathroom and dropped his clothes into the water.
“What in the hell did you just do?” he asked heatedly as she walked back into the room. Anger sharpened the lines of his face and he jerked at his bonds, making the bed creak. Ryan felt a quick thrill of fear.
“Well, I can’t very well let you go and have you catch me,” she said in a logical tone as she tossed her discarded lingerie and shoes in her overnight bag. “And it won’t do to leave you tied up until the maids find you.”
“Thanks so much for your thoughtfulness,” he said sarcastically.
“So I have to find a way to leave you so that you can get yourself loose but you can’t come after me in the hall.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a twenty. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t pay you the full fee, but under the circumstances I think it’s understandable.” She laid the money on the bedside table, pushing the condom wrappers out of the way. “I believe this will cover your cleaning bill. Your clothes should dry out enough to wear in a while or so.”
She bent over the silk rope tied around one of his wrists and loosened it. Before she could step back, his hand snaked out to grab her arm.
Ryan fought to calm the spurt of alarm. “As long as you’re holding on to me, you can’t untie yourself,” she said calmly.
Cade pulled her within inches of his face. “This isn’t over yet,” he gritted out with eyes blazing. He released her so quickly she stumbled backward.
Ryan took a deep breath and picked up her overnight bag and purse and walked to the door. “Of course it is, Mr. Douglas. You haven’t a clue where to find me.” She opened the door and stepped out into the hall, slamming the door behind her with finality.
6
MORNING SUNSHINE SLANTED across the Charles River as Ryan pulled into the paved lot on the greenbelt adjoining the water, then parked. Half a mile beyond her, the old stone bridge arced across from the Boston side where she stood to Cambridge soil. Near the parking lot, volunteers had set up for one of Boston’s innumerable outdoor festivals, erecting bright canvas booths and stringing electrical cord. Out on the river, wisps of mist still trailed over the surface of the water.
Like the fog she’d been in throughout the previous day, a fog that had nothing to do with it being Friday and everything to do with what had happened the night before. She’d thrown herself into alternately preparing notes for a new course she was designing and dodging calls from Helene, who’d left a string of increasingly peeved voice mails. Ryan didn’t care. Maybe it was silly, but she just wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened with Cade. She was as unsettled as she was angry, and still hadn’t figured out exactly what she felt.Sighing, she opened her door and swung her feet onto the asphalt to tighten her shoelaces.
“About time you showed up, sleepyhead.” Ryan looked up to see a pixie with a short, ginger-colored shag.
“How can you possibly be perky at five after eight on a Saturday, Becka? You’re sick.” Ryan yawned, looking at her friend who crackled with energy. “I’d be on time if you didn’t insist on running at the crack of dawn.”
“You know what Ben Franklin said,” Becka returned with a smirk. “Early to bed and early to rise.”
“Ben Franklin was a sexually incontinent dirty old man,” Ryan shot back, swinging her car door shut. She stooped to tuck the keys into a small pocket on the inside of her shorts. “Why should I believe what he said?”
“Better not let Mrs. McCormack hear you say that,” Becka warned, raising the specter of their grade school teacher who’d worshiped the founding fathers.
Becka and Ryan didn’t remember meeting each other. Perhaps it had happened in kindergarten, perhaps in the suburban Boston neighborhood where they’d toddled around in diapers. Either way, the bond that had been struck was deep and lasting, holding up through kindergarten and high school alike, prevailing even after they became adults pursuing their own careers. They were fixtures in each other’s lives.
Ryan turned toward the running trail that twined along the bank of the water.
“Not so fast, slick. Time to stretch, first.” A massage therapist who specialized in treating athletes, Becka took her workouts seriously. “I spent half the week massaging athletes straight out of spring training who didn’t have enough sense to stretch out before they hit the field.” Her head bobbed down by her knees as she spoke.
“If you’re going to insist on working with weekend warriors, you get what you’ve got coming.” Ryan reached behind her to bend her raised leg double, stretching her quads.
Becka shook her head, stepping on a cement bar marking a parking slot and sinking into calf pulls, her eyes glimmering with fun. “No, this doesn’t have to do with the physicians’ healthcare job, it’s something totally different.”
Swimming up out of her early morning haze, Ryan took a closer look at her friend. Becka bounced lightly on her toes, excitement fairly humming around her. “So what’s going on? You look like you’ve got some hot news. Spill it, baby.”r />
“Well, if you’re going to force me into it…” Becka gave her an amused glance, unable to stretch it out any longer. “The team therapist for the local farm club was diagnosed with carpal tunnel syndrome. He’s going to have to have surgery and rehab, and they expect him to be out all season. They called the physicians’ health sports medicine department and asked Wally for a recommendation. He sent them to yours truly,” she said airily.
Ryan stopped in her tracks and gave a whoop of surprise. “Becka, that’s huge!” She grabbed her friend for a hug and did a little victory dance. “Oh my god, this is wonderful. I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.”
Becka flushed with joy. “It is great, isn’t it? I just got the offer yesterday. When I woke up this morning and remembered I was just over the moon.” Her attempt at an offhand shrug didn’t quite make it. “I’m not getting my hopes up too much, though. It could turn into something more but there’s no guarantee. Maybe the team therapist will come back later in the season or maybe they won’t need me next year.”
Ryan rolled her eyes. “Or maybe he’ll retire and work on his golf game, or maybe they’ll find they need two massage therapists. Let yourself enjoy this,” she said impatiently. “Deal with that stuff when and if it happens.”
They started back into a slow jog. “So what does Scott think about it?” Ryan asked curiously, referring to Becka’s sometime suitor.
Becka shrugged and sped up a notch. “Typical Scott. He doesn’t like me being around all these young guys, he doesn’t like the weekend and nighttime hours, he doesn’t like me traveling with the team and not being home to give him rubdowns.” A thin, brittle edge of anger colored her voice. “He’s never once said congratulations. I don’t know why I even waste time with him. He’s in love with his image in the mirror, not with me.” Scott was a bodybuilder with enormous biceps and an ego to match.
Ryan shook her head. “Men. Why do we even bother with them?”