by Sandra Owens
He reached out and caught her arm, pulling her next to him. “Call me when you get home so I know you’re all tucked in safe and sound. Okay?” When she nodded, Ryan lowered his mouth to hers, needing one last taste of her.
After seeing Charlie to her car and watching her drive away, he went back inside to wait for her call. Going into his bedroom, he stood in front of his wedding-day photograph and studied his wife’s features. Pain slashed his heart to look at the two of them, remembering how happy they both had been that day. He was tired of hurting because of things he couldn’t change.
At the buzz of his cell phone, Ryan picked up the photograph and put it in a drawer where it would stay until he stored it away somewhere. That he was finally able to take that step felt like some kind of milestone. A positive one. It was time to move on, time to make new memories, and he would do that with a pretty little cherub. He fished the phone from his pocket, then sprawled onto his back on his bed.
“Happy anniversary, girlfriend,” he said.
There was a hesitation on the other end. “Anniversary?”
“Yeah.” He looked at his watch. “Three hours we’ve been going steady. Does that mean we can have phone sex now?”
Silence, then laughter. “Sheesh, Hot Guy, you really do have a one-track mind.”
He loved the way she laughed, spontaneous and carefree. “I think I’ve admitted that to you already.”
“I’ve never had phone sex,” she said in almost a whisper.
He sat up and stuffed a pillow behind his back. “No kidding? You’re a phone sex virgin?”
Her soft chuckle floated through the phone. “I guess I am.”
“Maybe we should correct that, Charlene. Mmm?” Please say yes. Growing hard at the thought of having phone sex with his cherub, he rubbed his palm along the inside of his thigh, and then over the zipper of his jeans.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Ah, but you have me to guide you, so that objection has been obliterated. Any other reasons to say no you want to toss at me? You’ll like it, I promise. Even better, you’ll sleep like a baby afterwards.”
“Okay.”
Ryan laughed. “That was downright erotic there, Charlene.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“A little, A mhuirnín.”
“You sound so Irish when you say that. What did that mean?”
“Tá mé an Gaeilge.”
“I don’t know what you just said, but it sounded sexy.”
“I said that I am Irish, and A mhuirnín means darling.” That was the extent of his Gaelic, but if she thought it sounded sexy, he might need to learn more Irish phrases. “Back to the phone sex.” Her laughter was pure and long lasting, and he found himself laughing along with her.
“One track,” she said between gasps.
“We’ve established that.” It struck him that he hadn’t felt this happy in over a year. If that was guilt he felt for experiencing a bit of happiness, he chose to ignore it.
“So we have,” she said. “Well, phone sex instructor, start instructing.”
She sounded so businesslike that he almost laughed again, but she’d agreed, and he wasn’t going to do anything to divert her attention elsewhere. “What are you wearing, cherub?”
“Wow, your voice changed. Got all low and raspy. Sexy like.”
“Does that turn you on?”
“Kinda.”
Kinda wasn’t good enough. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”
“The clothes you saw me in. I called you as soon as I walked in the door.”
For what they were going to do together, she needed to be relaxed, almost sleepy.
“Here’s what I want you to do. Do you have wine?”
“Yeah.”
Keeping his voice low and intimate, he said, “Okay. Pour yourself a glass, then go take a shower. I’m hoping you have something scented to bathe with so you can tell me how sweet you smell. After you’re all scented up, put on some sexy lingerie. If you don’t have any, lie to me when I ask what you’re wearing. Take whatever wine you haven’t finished with you and get in your bed. Ah, before you do that, light some candles and turn out your lights. Then call me back. You and me, we’re going to have the most burning phone sex on record.” When she didn’t respond, he pulled the phone away and looked at it to make sure they were still connected. They were. “Charlene?”
“I’m here. I have to tell you, what you just said . . . that’s the hottest thing any man has ever said to me. Call you back in thirty.”
Ryan tossed his phone on the bed and made a fist pump as he headed for the shower. As he soaped up, he played her last words through his mind. That no man had appreciated her enough to say hot things to her puzzled him. She was amazing in so many ways, and how had the men in her life not seen that?
Charlie sniffed her elbow as she read the back of the jasmine-vanilla-scented body lotion bottle. “Jasmine inspires sexy self-confidence while the vanilla scent soothes the soul,” she read aloud. Well, she could sure use some sexy self-confidence, not to mention some soul soothing. Ryan had told her to put on something sexy, and she just happened to have a little teddy that she had bought to wear for Aaron shortly before he broke up with her. One she’d never had the chance to wear, and best of all, she wouldn’t have to make up something when Ryan asked what she had on.
Bathed, scented, sexy lingerie on, candles lit, she climbed into her bed and picked up her phone. Nerves struck her then, and she chewed on her bottom lip as her finger hovered over the keypad. This would be the first time doing such a thing, and although the idea of it excited her, she wasn’t sure she could go through with it.
Sex with Aaron had been okay, but her vibrator worked just as well. She had a feeling that making love with Ryan would blow her mind to smithereens. But phone sex? The whole idea of a man listening to her pleasure herself was just weird.
Maybe she could pretend. He would never know, would he? Experimentally, she tried moaning to see if it sounded real. At hearing the fake moan, she burst out laughing. God, she sounded exactly like a woman faking it. She tried once more, deepening her voice. Gah! That one was even worse. Nope, he wouldn’t fall for it.
“You’ve never been a coward, Charlie, don’t start now.” Pep talk done, she lowered her finger to punch in his number. The ring! Shouldn’t she be wearing it? Rolling out of bed, she returned to the bathroom and picked up the pretty silver chain. It still amazed her that he’d given her his class ring. She held it up to the light, admiring the emerald-green stone, then noticed writing on the inside.
May all your dreams come true, son. Love, Mom and Dad.
The inscription made her sad. From what Ryan had angrily admitted the first night she’d met him, it didn’t seem as if his dreams had come true. Turning away, she slipped the chain over her neck, then returned to bed. Half surprised he hadn’t grown impatient and called her, she picked up her cell phone and speed-dialed Ryan’s number.
“I thought you weren’t going to call,” he said, sounding happy to hear from her.
Charlie glanced at the clock. Fifty minutes had passed since she had said she would call in thirty. “I almost didn’t.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I don’t think I can do this.” She stuck a finger through his ring and toyed with it. The rustle of bedcovers sounded in her ear, and she closed her eyes and imagined him in his bed. Was he wearing anything?
“Charlene, tell me what you smell like,” he said, his voice soft and intimate.
Glad that he had ignored her misgivings, not making her explain herself, she lifted her arm to her nose. “Sweet, like the way night-blooming jasmine smells, with a hint of vanilla.”
“And if I licked you, would you taste like vanilla?”
Sheesh, he would make a fortune if he could bottle that sexy bedtime voice. “I don’t know.”
“Close your eyes and run the tip of your tongue along the inside of your wrist. Pretend it’s
my tongue licking you.”
Even though she thought it was a silly thing to do, she did as instructed. Holy Mama Mia! Her fingers tingled to their very ends when she thought of him doing that to her.
“Charlene?”
“Mmm?”
“What do you taste like?”
“Vanilla. I taste like vanilla, and a little like . . .” She licked her wrist again. “I dunno, like a flower, maybe.”
He gave a satisfied sounding hum. “Just so you know, next time that will be my tongue on your skin. Now tell me what you’re wearing.”
The man was melting her bones and he wasn’t even in the same room with her. “Ahem, well, I have on a pale blue . . . when I bought it, the description said it was angel blue, whatever color that is.”
“Your eyes are angel blue, so I can see the color.”
She had angel-blue eyes? “My ex said my eyes were ghost eyes.” Why had she admitted that?
“Your ex was an ass, so forget about him. What you’re wearing, is it transparent?”
Although she already knew the answer, she glanced down, then did a double take. Her nipples were puckered and she thought it was the first time they had ever done that. At least, it was the first time she was aware that they had. The man on the other end of the phone was clearly lethal.
“Are you looking at yourself, Charlene?”
How did he know? And oh God, she loved how he said her name, all raspy and drawn out, as if he savored saying it. “Yes,” she whispered, a little embarrassed.
“Describe what you have on.”
“Okay. Like I said, it’s pale blue and see-through. The panty part barely covers my bottom and has a row of lace around the legs. The top has spaghetti straps, then there’s some lace that stops right above my breasts, and the rest is silk.”
“You’re killing me, cherub,” he said, and by the sound of his voice, maybe she was.
Charlie couldn’t stop her smile. She’d never come close to killing any man in that way before Ryan. “What are you wearing?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
The word hung between them as she tried to imagine his beautiful body—what she had seen of it was beautiful—sprawled out on his bed. “Where’s your hand?” The question had blurted right out of her mouth before she could stop it. Even as she’d asked it, she knew the answer.
“Where do you think?”
Had she forgotten to turn the air on? Because suddenly she felt like she was on fire. “Ryan?” The nerves she’d felt earlier had disappeared, and she wanted to get in her car and drive right back over to his place so she could watch as he touched himself.
“Mmm?”
Her landline rang and she glanced at the caller ID. Why was David calling her so late at night? He never had before. “Hold on a sec.” She set her cell aside and picked up her home phone. “I’ll be there shortly,” she said after listening to what he had to say.
She sighed in frustration. Her conversation with Ryan had ventured into foreign lands—for her, anyway—and she wanted nothing more than to stay and see just where his phone sex would take her. But someone had broken into the hangar and gotten to her plane. Damn. Damn. Damn.
“Ryan, that was the FBO manager on the phone. I have to go.”
“What happened?”
His sexy, intimate voice had disappeared, replaced by an alert, what dragon do I need to slay for you one.
No way she would involve him in her problems. This thing between them was only a game, and he owed her nothing. “Not your problem,” she said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Are you headed over to the airport?”
“Yes. Gotta go.” She clicked off before he could ask any more questions, and before she found herself telling him her problems and leaning on him to take care of them. They weren’t his responsibility.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The airport’s lobby was locked and it was dark inside when Ryan arrived, but he had noticed light pouring out of an open hangar door along the side of the building. Heading that way, he slowed at the entrance and studied the scene before him.
Charlie squatted under what he guessed was her stunt plane, peering up at the underbelly. Two men—one he recognized from the news segment as the airport manager—stood by with their hands on their hips. Each had the look of a man wary of what might come their way.
“What the hell?” Charlie said, her voice muffled.
In unison, the two men took a step back. They were afraid of his Charlie, and that made Ryan smile. He eased up behind them. “Someone mess with her plane?” he asked, and both men startled, swiveling as one to gape at him. “I’m Ryan O’Connor, a friend of Charlene’s,” he said, and held out his hand to the one he knew was the airport’s manager.
“Who’s Charlene?” the other man asked.
“He means Charlie, you idiot,” the airport manager said, shaking Ryan’s hand. “I’m David Haydon, the manager of this place.”
“I know.” Ignoring Haydon’s surprised reaction, Ryan turned to the second man. “And you are?”
“Gary Thomas, the head mechanic.”
“Is that the cops you’re talking to?” Charlie asked from under the plane.
Ryan shook his head at the men to keep quiet, then scooted up behind her. Anticipating her reaction, he held his hand over her head to keep her from banging into the plane. “There a problem here, Charlie?”
She jerked back and plowed her head into his palm. “Ryan? What’re you doing here?”
“You’re my girlfriend. Where else should I be when you’ve got trouble?” Something flickered in her eyes, and if he wasn’t mistaken, there was gratitude to go with her surprise. He caught her scent, and breathed her in. She was right, she did smell like jasmine with a hint of vanilla, and he did want to lick her. That would have to wait, however.
“What’s going on?” he asked. Her eyes shifted to the bottom of her plane, and he followed her gaze. What the hell? “Why is there a black pentagram spray-painted on your plane?”
“Because someone wants me to crash and burn maybe? So they’re putting a curse on me?” Her voice trembled as she spoke.
Ryan took her hand and pulled her out from under the aircraft. “There’s no such thing as curses; you know that, right?”
“I know, but things have been happening to my plane, and now they’re trying to mess with my mind.”
“Whoa. Back up a minute. What’s this about things happening?”
Instead of answering, she turned to the airport manager. “You called the police, right?”
The man crossed his arms over his chest, and shook his head. “No.”
“Why not, David? Someone broke in. How do you know they haven’t done something to any of the other planes?”
“Gary will check them out, but I’m sure it’s only yours they messed with.”
Ryan swallowed a grin as she got in Haydon’s face, backing up a man twice her size. “You’re avoiding my question,” she said, poking him in the chest. “Why didn’t you call the cops?”
The woman was amazing. Where Kathleen would have turned to him to fight her battles, Charlie seemed perfectly capable of fighting her own. Who knew he would like that? What he did know was that the cops would more or less yawn over someone’s amateur attempt to curse her.
“It’s bad PR, Charlie. I’m not calling the cops.” Haydon took another step back. “I’ll hire a nighttime security guard, okay?”
“Not okay,” Charlie said, her voice rising. “Forget it. I’ll call them myself.”
Ryan decided it was time to step between them before she completely lost her temper. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her away from her assault on Haydon. “I can help, but you need to tell me what’s been going on from the beginning.”
She leaned her head against him and sighed. “I’m not your problem, Ryan.”
Seriously? He lowered his mouth to her ear. “You will never be a problem, cherub.” He put his hand on her elbow, and then tu
rned to the airport manager. “Take us to your office.”
Close to an hour later, Ryan sat back in his chair. “And you didn’t think to tell me any of this?” he asked, looking straight at Charlie, wanting to shake her for not trusting him enough to tell him what was going on in her life.
“It’s not your problem,” she answered, apparently fascinated by the hem of her T-shirt where she twisted it around a finger.
That burned. “I’m getting tired of hearing you say that.” He lifted a chin toward Haydon, and the man took the hint and left, towing the head mechanic with him. When they were alone, he turned his chair so he was facing her. “Charlie, who in your life do you trust?”
“Myself.”
He was struck by how fast she answered, with no hesitation. If ever he was in trouble and he wanted his family’s help, all he had to do was pick up the phone. Within a day of his call, his parents and all of his siblings would be on his doorstep. Just because he hadn’t chosen to burden them with his secrets didn’t mean he didn’t know they were there for him if he ever needed them. That she didn’t feel she had anyone to lean on made him that much more determined to prove he was there for her.
“Do you know who would do something like that?” he asked.
Still picking at her shirt, she looked up at him. “You really don’t have to bother yourself with this. I don’t see what you can do about it anyway.”
Quelling his temper, he leaned back in his chair. “I want to bother myself with whatever this is all about. As for what I can do, you might be surprised. I don’t think I’ve mentioned my talents. I’m a former SEAL, and if you know anything about the SEALs, then you know we’re highly trained, not to mention, we’re kick-ass bad.” He smiled when she widened her eyes. “I told you I work for K2 Special Services, and we . . . well, I can’t tell you exactly what we do as most of it’s classified, but I’m still highly trained and still kick-ass bad. I can help you, Charlie.”
He hesitated a moment before continuing. “If someone hadn’t actually tried to sabotage not just your personal plane, but your instructor one, I’d chalk the pentagram up to a prank. But this is serious shit, and you need me.”
