Breathe You In

by Joya Ryan

  Without warning, he picked me up, and I laughed. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I let him carry me to the shower. Life was going to be good, from here on out, because I had found Roman and Roman had helped me find myself.

  “I love you,” I whispered against his neck.

  He squeezed me a little tighter. “I love you too.”

  There, in Roman’s strong arms, there was nothing I believed in more.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you, Maria, for being an amazing editor. Thank you to my awesome critique partner and BFF for all your love and brilliance. Thank you, Lindsay, for your rocking edits! Thank you to my family and friends for your support.

  Read on for a sneak peek of the next book in Joya Ryan’s Sweet Torment series.

  Only You

  Thanks for manning the desk, Paige,” Jean said, taking her glasses off and letting them hang from the chain around her neck. “Want me to bring you back anything?”

  Jean was the personal assistant to the governor of New York and the closest thing I had to a mother figure.

  “No thanks, I’ve got a protein shake.” Plus, I had a lot of work to get done.

  “Okay, then. I’ll see you in a bit.” Jean’s gaze lingered a little, and I saw unease and pity in her eyes. Yeah. She knew. Everyone around here knew. And by tomorrow, the press would make sure the entire country knew.

  My boss, Bill Vorse, chief communications officer to the governor, was involved in a sex scandal.

  He was also kind of a douche. I had been on the receiving end of his unwanted advances a time or two in the year I’d been his assistant. But now it looked like he’d gone too far and, according to the rumor mill, with more than just one girl. And there were pictures. The story would break tomorrow.

  And when it did, I would be out of a job.

  I rubbed my temples, trying to ward off the oncoming migraine. Letting out a long sigh, I looked at my protein shake sweating on Jean’s desk, then at the bowl of candy.

  Shake?

  Candy?

  Eff the protein.

  I reached for a handful of Hershey’s Kisses, but the bowl shocked my finger, making me jump and knock it onto the floor.

  “Damn it.”

  Walking around to the front of the desk, I collected the chocolates and put them back in the bowl. On my hands and knees, ass in the air, I reached under the desk, trying to get the last chocolate wedged against the wall and making my skirt ride up my thighs.

  “Is there a good place I can stick this?” A deep, husky voice came from behind me.

  Directly behind me.

  I shot up, barely missing cracking my head on the edge of the desk, and scrambled to my feet.

  “Excuse me?” I said, shuffling a bit unsteadily on my heels.

  I tugged the hem of my skirt down, tucked back the few strands of hair that had come loose from my bun, and prepared to address the man—

  Only my words dried up, while the exact opposite happened to my mouth—and panties.

  Tall, built, and one hundred percent bad boy. He sported a pair of worn jeans and a white T-shirt that hugged bulging biceps and obviously chiseled abs. The cotton looked just slightly sweaty, but he smelled like cologne and spice and man. He held a small brown box for delivery, and I had never been caught more off guard by a package in all my life.

  A SAVAS SHIPPING ball cap was tugged low on his head, but thick, jet-black hair stuck out and curled around the back of the band. Some sort of tribal tattoo peeked out from under his left T-shirt sleeve, and when those intense blue eyes locked on my face, a flash of heat radiated through my whole body. As his gaze traveled lower and landed on my breasts, I completely melted. And forgot to exhale.

  “You alright there, sweetheart?”

  My eyes snapped to his, and I realized I had just been staring at his package. He grinned, and his expression was so confident it could have had its own personality.

  “You’re breathing a little hard there.”

  “I, ah…” I shook my head, trying to regain my composure. This man, with his sexy smile and even sexier tattoo, was making me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Lust. The kind that started a slow simmer in my blood. Then I shook my head slightly. Nope. Not going to happen. Time to pull the composed Paige back together.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” I asked with all the professional polish I possessed.

  Apparently unaffected by my “serious” voice, he openly scanned my entire body and licked his lower lip, giving me the sudden urge to do the same.

  “Yeah.”

  He just stared, blue eyes blazing. Silently assessing. A small smile revealed a set of amazing dimples.

  “Ah, okay.” I tried again. “What is it?”

  “This.” He held up the small box. “It’s for Roman Reese. I’ll just drop it in his office.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “We don’t let delivery boys actually drop items off to public officials. You can leave it with me.”

  He balanced the box between his hip and forearm, raised a single eyebrow, and unleashed the sexiest expression I’d ever seen. “Delivery boy, huh?”

  I tried to size him up in return, show him that he didn’t affect me and that I meant business, but that was a mistake. Mostly because it made me drool a little, a problem I had just gotten under control.

  I knew his type. Man, did I know his type. Way too good looking for his own good—and he obviously knew it. He was cocky and tattooed, and I’d lay ten-to-one odds he owned a motorcycle. He was exactly the kind of guy I would never go for again. The kind of guy I’d been screwed over by before. The kind I’d left back in Indiana, right along with my past.

  I’d figured out a long time ago that if I wanted to get off the trailer park I’d grown up in, I’d have to start dressing, acting, and living the life I wanted—not the life I had.

  And that life entailed upstanding gentlemen who wore suits and had ambition.

  “Well, angel, I don’t think the governor would mind if I just popped in.”

  I stepped in front of him. “He’s not in. And I mind.”

  “What’s your name?” he asked with a little tilt of his chin that signified he thought my protest was cute, at best. If there was one thing I understood, it was silent mockery.

  “You can call me Miss Levine.”

  “Oh, I can, huh?”

  I lifted my chin and crossed my arms, which only seemed to amuse him more.

  “I’m Leo,” he offered in a sugary tone that I recognized. It was the voice a man used when he was preparing to butter up a woman. Too bad for him I had been on the losing end of men all my life, which was why I steered clear of them.

  “That’s nice,” I said.

  He took a step toward me and his gaze dropped to scan my body again, leaving tingles on my skin. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here, Miss Levine.” Never taking his eyes from mine, he knelt down and picked up the candy dish. “Roman is expecting this,” he indicated the box in his other hand, “and me.”

  “He’s not in,” I said again.

  “I’m a bit early.” He shrugged. “But I can wait. Maybe you’d be willing to entertain me?”

  My jaw dropped and my forehead hurt from how hard I was scowling at him.

  “I’m not here to entertain anyone. Especially—”

  “A delivery boy?” he said.

  I glanced at my feet. I knew how people judged you based on your station or job in life. Which was exactly what I was doing to him.

  I just needed to get out of this conversation and away from this man. Everything about him was bad news, and I didn’t have the patience to deal with it. Or the hot flush he sent rushing over my skin.

  “Just leave it here, and I’ll make sure the governor gets it.”

  “Alright, Miss Levine.” Leo set the box on Jean’s desk. “How about a kiss for all my trouble of coming in here only to have you send me away?”

  My mouth dropped. This guy and hi
s ego needed a big check. “You’ve got to be kidding me? I’ve heard better lines from a—”

  He handed me the candy dish, effectively cutting me off, and took a Hershey’s Kiss from the bowl.

  “Oh…” My face flared hot, and I didn’t need a mirror to know how mortified I looked.

  I put the candy dish on the desk, walked around it, and sat down. Partly because my legs were a bit shaky, and partly because the closer this guy was to me, the more I could smell him. Hot and delicious. It made me realize just how long it had been since I’d had a man.

  Stupid body.

  Stupid day.

  “You’re kind of sexy when you’re irritated, Red.”

  He winked, and I immediately went back to studying the computer. My defenses weren’t top-notch against charm like his.

  “Come on. You have to admit that line was better than the kiss one.”

  Who was this guy? Whoever he was, he had balls to hang around the governor’s office like he owned the place. Or at least as though he belonged—something I’d been trying to accomplish for the past several years with no such luck. But this guy? Two minutes here and he was right at home: confident, charismatic as hell, and with an easy charm that I desperately wanted in my life right now.

  No. Scratch that. I wanted the life I had built. The life I had worked hard for. The life that proved I was better than where I’d come from. The life that he was currently distracting me from.

  “What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

  Never taking my attention from the screen, I said, “Working.”

  He nodded. “Well, maybe when you’re done, there’s this great pub right down the street. Best hoagies in the city. They even have a sign that says so. I’d like to take you there.”

  “You want to buy me a sandwich?”

  Great. Just great.

  Last night I’d been stood up by an accountant I had gone out with a few times. He’d made it obvious that his upper-middle-class life was more glamorous than I was.

  “Yeah. I want to buy you a sandwich,” Leo said with a wide smile.

  I wanted to scoff, but the way those dimples flashed and his hips shifted just enough to reveal a peek of his black leather belt made me think twice.

  “No, thanks,” I said quickly before I could change my mind. Because a sub and casual conversation with a hot guy sounded better than anything I had going on later.

  He stood to his full height, which was a couple inches over six feet, and adjusted his ball cap.

  “You just broke my heart, Red,” he said, putting a palm over his chest. “But I’m not giving up on you.”

  I just gave him an exasperated look and waved him off. Problem was, the view of his ass as he left was amazing—and depressing to watch walk away.

  About the Author

  Joya Ryan is the author of the Shattered series, which includes bestseller Break Me Slowly. She loves to cook and is a terrible dancer, though that doesn’t keep her off the dance floor. Currently, she lives in California with her husband and two young sons.