Billionaire Boss (37 page)

“Come on, Ryan. Fuck me,” I say, which is
very
out of character for me. But his behavior is bringing out a different side of me, exposing a woman that I wasn’t aware existed.

He still doesn’t say a word but pushes my panties to the side, letting the tip of his erection touch my bare skin. Then he easily slides two fingers inside me and I gasp. We are still kissing and I grasp his shaft in my hand and begin to stroke him while he fingers me. Each time my hand moves toward my body, I pull him harder so the tip of his erection touches my wetness, begging him to enter me. He’s not giving in yet. Ryan inserts another finger inside me and moves faster, pumping his hand while I continue to fondle him.

My knees are weak. I can’t take any more. I need him—now.

I put my hands behind him again and try pulling him closer. Ryan slides his fingers out from inside me and tugs my panties down, until they fall freely. In one move, he plunges himself between my inner lips. I’m so wet already that I eagerly take in his whole length, enveloping him.

Ryan begins to thrust into me, hard. My back is still against the wall and I have one leg around his thigh. He easily lifts my legs around his waist. I throw my arms around his shoulders and start kissing and sucking on his neck as he continues pumping, moving himself in and out of me while making small circles with his hips.

I grab at his back with my hands and squeeze, “Oh God, that feels so good,” I whisper against his lobe.

Ryan groans for me. “Fuck yeah, it does.”

Ryan’s hands are under my ass, helping me stay perched on top of him. He is pistoning in and out and I am bouncing up and down, and the steady pulse of our movements is taking us both to the edge of climax. I start moving faster and Ryan plunges so deep inside me. He doesn’t pull out but makes small figure-eights, continuously hitting all the right places. I grip his shoulders and Ryan presses me back into the wall as he pulls himself out until just the tip of his manhood is still inside me, and then buries himself back in, groaning as he does.

He repeats the same motion a few more times, and it takes me over the edge. I’m squeezing him with both hands, groaning as I surrender myself, my body shaking. Ryan delves deep inside me one last time before he can’t hold back anymore. I feel the warm liquid emptying into me and he spasms with release.

I kiss Ryan on the cheek and rest my head on his shoulder, slowly placing my feet back on the floor without breaking our embrace. He moves his hands up my back and kisses me on the forehead. We are both exhausted and grinning from ear to ear. I don’t think either of us wants to move, so we stay where we are. We just stand there, holding each other.

Ryan backs away enough to see my face, “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Was it that bad?”

“No. I just don’t want you to go,” I finally say.

Ryan kisses me softly. “Just come with me.”

“I can’t. Not yet anyway” I reply.

We both bend down at the same time and gather our clothing off the floor. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and clean myself up. I take a moment while I’m in there to collect my thoughts. I can’t recall a time in my life when I’ve been so happy and so sad at the same time. It’s literally only hours until Ryan leaves, and I’m in panic mode. There’s no way I can go with him right now. I just have to remember that if we are meant to be, putting a relationship on hold for a couple of months won’t make a difference. If he truly loves me and wants me to be with him, he will wait. And after he leaves, if I still feel the same, I will go.

I come back into the living room and Ryan is on the couch with a box of cookies. He looks so cute and innocent—the complete opposite of the man who just had me pinned against the wall.

“You all good?” he asks me.

“Yes,” I reply, beaming at him. I walk over to the couch, grab a cookie, and plop down next to him. “I’ve never seen that side of you.”

“I usually don’t use those moves with my friends. They tend to think it’s weird,” Ryan quips.

I giggle. “I mean, you were forceful and dominant. I don’t see that trait in you often. You’re always so nice and sweet.”

“Really? I always think of myself as a take-charge kind of guy,” he answers.

“I guess,” I say trailing off. “That was amazing, you know.”

“Damn right it was.” Ryan winks at me. “Maybe we are just meant to be together.” He squeezes my hand and kisses me one more time, just lightly on the lips. I lay my head on his shoulder and curl up next to him. We sit there, just cuddling and enjoying the end of Ryan’s time here. We don’t really speak—I don’t think either of us wants to talk about the inevitable—we just want to enjoy the time we have left.

W
e wake
when the sun rises and shines in through our small window. Ryan and I are still curled up together on the couch. It’s very early, but as soon as I move, he hugs me, pulling me closer to him.

“Good morning,” he says in a sleepy voice.

“Morning,” I reply. It can’t be good. Even though we are here together now, Ryan is leaving in a few hours.

“I’m going to make some coffee,” he announces. He kisses me lightly on the head, stands up, and stretches.

I stretch too and walk into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. This is going to be one very hard goodbye today. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the morning without breaking down. I take a deep breath and go meet Ryan at the table where he already has a mug of coffee ready for me.

“So, this is it,” Ryan says solemnly. “I really don’t want to leave you, Eve.”

“I don’t want you to leave, but you have to go,” I reply, frowning.

“I know. Will you please consider coming with me? Just come in a couple of weeks and meet me after I’m settled,” Ryan pleads again.

“I need some time. You need some time. This is life-changing for you. Let’s take it slow. We’ve waited so long to be together already. A little longer shouldn’t make a difference.”

“I know. I just… I know,” he concedes.

“So what do you have to do before you leave for the airport?” I ask, abruptly changing the subject.

“Not much. Just get the last few things together. PGR has pretty much done everything. All I really need to do is show up,” Ryan explains.

“What are you going to do for Christmas?” he asks me, staring at our little tree.

“Probably just stay with our parents again... They’ll be happy I’m there,” I reply. “What about you?”

“I don’t know. I have a couple of old friends out there. I’ll see who wants me for the holidays,” he says, trying to sound enthusiastic.

“That sucks. I wish you could have at least left after the holidays,” I say somberly.

“Yeah, me too. Because I was cast so last-minute, there is a ton of things I need to do before they start shooting. There’s no other way and they’re not going to hold up the whole movie so I can stay with my girlfriend for Christmas.”

“So, I’m your girlfriend now?” I reply, smirking.

“Yes, you are,” he answers.

“Do I have a say in this?” I ask.

“Only if you’re saying yes.” Ryan chuckles at his own joke.

“What about our parents?”

“What about them? You’re my stepsister. They know we’re close. It might take them time to warm up to it, but I promise you, they will.”

I laugh, too. I’m glad we are having some fun and making light of things.

“I’m going to pack the rest of my things and get ready to go. Hopefully, we’ll have some time to chill,” Ryan says.

“Sure.” Here come the tears. “I’ll go shower and stuff, then,” I reply. I guess fun time is over.

Ryan gets up and squeezes my shoulder on his way out of the kitchen. I sit in silence for a few minutes before I get up and drag myself to the bathroom. I don’t feel like showering yet, but I don’t really know what else to do with myself.

I stand there and let the water flow over me and try to clear my head. I just need to get through the goodbye, and then I can let myself go, if I want. I just want to keep it together for Ryan.

I put on my robe and walk to my room to get dressed. I hear some music playing and Ryan shuffling around. It’s going to be very lonely here soon. When I emerge into the living room, I see his boxes and suitcases by the door. My eyes begin to well with tears again. I take some deep breaths and calm myself before he can see me. Ryan walks backwards out of his room, takes one last look around to make sure he has everything, and steps into the living room.

“I only have a few minutes before my car comes,” he says. He walks over to me and takes my hand in his. “Don’t forget about me, Eve. I’m going to be waiting for you.”

“Of course I won’t forget. You’re going to be famous now. Your face will be everywhere. Besides, we also have these cool new things called phones and e-mail, so we should be able to keep in touch,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. As much as I want him to stay, I also want him to leave so we can get this goodbye over with already.

Ryan forces a smile. I can tell that he’s very nervous as reality is finally setting in. He brushes the hair away from my face and lets his hand linger on my cheek. He looks into my eyes, appearing to be taking everything in so he will remember my face and this moment. Then he leans in and presses his lips onto mine.

He spreads my lips apart with his tongue and we immediately fall into a deep kiss. I wrap my arms over his shoulders and run my fingers through the hair on the back of his head, pulling him closer. Our tongues are entwined, weaving and writhing together, our mouths acting as one. We grasp and hold onto each other, Ryan’s tongue explores the inside of my mouth, reaching and stroking every part of mine like he doesn’t want to forget.

The buzzer rings, indicating that Ryan’s ride is here. He presses his hands more firmly against my cheeks as we take in the last moments together, locked in this kiss. We slowly break apart. Ryan gently presses his soft lips to mine, kissing me gently several times before the buzzer rings again.

Ryan impatiently pushes the button and lets the driver know he’ll be right down. Then he wraps his arms around me, holding my body tight against his in our final embrace. I hug him back, and we stand there for a moment.

“I love you,” Ryan whispers in my ear.

“I love you too,” I say, holding back the inevitable flow of tears that are coming.

He gives my body a final squeeze, picks up his suitcases, and smiles quickly at me before walking out the door. I’m sure he doesn’t want me to see him crying, but I do.

I watch him descend the stairs, close the door, and immediately break down. All the emotion and sadness I’ve been holding back is finally being released. I sit on the floor with my back against the door, sobbing heavily. I have my head between my knees and I notice Ryan’s boxes are next to me, making me fully aware of what just happened. I wish they would have picked them up before he left—now they will just be a constant reminder.

I stay there for a while, crying and feeling sorry for myself, allowing myself to be weak, letting myself
feel
everything.

I sit for what feels like hours, but I know it’s only been minutes. I wait until I calm down and have no more tears and take a deep breath before I get up. It’s still early morning, and I have the whole day ahead of me, although I really don't know what I’m going to do. I don’t want to go anywhere or see anyone, and I don’t have to, so I resign to staying home and feeling sorry for myself.

I walk to Ryan’s room and take a look around. All of his things are gone and other than his dresser and bed—the room is empty. I close the door and decide not to open it again for a long time. I walk into the kitchen to make a snack, but I’m just not hungry. I settle on watching some television in bed and trying to zone out. I just stare at the screen, not absorbing anything, just thinking about Ryan, and at some point, I fall asleep.

I
wake
up several hours later. My face feels swollen and my nose stuffy, but I’m glad I got some sleep, anyway. I stay in bed for a while, still not wanting to do anything, turning over the events of the last week in my head. I need to get up and stop the endless circle of thought.

I amble back into the kitchen and look in the fridge for something to eat. I put a sandwich together and sit on the couch. It’s not much better than lying in bed but I guess it’s a step up. I turn on the television again and put on a show to try and grab my attention. I glance at the Christmas tree out of the corner of my eye. I’m going to have to take that down now that Ryan is gone; it’s just another reminder I don’t need around.

I spend the rest of the day moping around and doing a whole lot of nothing. Ryan sends me a text that he landed and is going to check out his new place. He also says he misses me. My eyes fill with tears and I reply with congratulations, good luck wishes, and smiley faces, which are the complete opposite of how I feel right now.

I wake up the next morning determined to be productive. I have a couple of unanswered texts and phone calls asking how I am and if Ryan got off okay that I should tend to. I return the texts with short answers and save the calls for another day before I get ready for work. I’m scheduled on a day shift which is good because it will force me to get out of the apartment. I get dressed and brave the cold, spending the next several hours working behind the bar. It feels like a much longer day than it is, but putting on a happy face for a while actually helps lift my spirits a little. I come home feeling slightly better and try to ignore the boxes by the door. They are supposed to be picked up tomorrow—I can’t wait.

I spend the rest of the week doing about the same thing. Getting by with a happy facade at work and spending a lot of time in my room. Ryan and I have texted every day. We only spoke once so far, but that’s because I keep pretending I’m at work when he calls. I’m just not ready to talk to him. He seems to be getting along and adjusting to his new surroundings. It sounds like he’s happy and excited, as he should be, but I’m still so sad that he’s gone, so I don’t want to bring him down.

There are only a couple of days left before Christmas. I do a little last-minute shopping, picking up some things to give to my parents. I haven’t seen or spoken to them much in the last few weeks. I’m looking forward to spending some time with them and having their company. They have no idea what happened, and I have no intention of telling them. I’m sure they will understand that I’m sad, but they don’t need to know the whole story.

I spend the evening before Christmas Eve in my apartment, wrapping gifts and getting in the holiday spirit. I’m preparing to head home to my parents’ house in the morning when I get a text from Tara. I haven’t spoken to her all week. We texted a few times but I’ve really been avoiding everyone. I’m feeling pretty good tonight so I decide to give her a call back instead of replying to her text.

“Hey! I was wondering if you were ever going to call me again,” Tara says in lieu of a simple “hello.”

The sound of her voice makes me light up. I must need a friend more than I thought. “Hey, girl. I missed you. Just been catching up on some things.”

“Yeah, I bet. How are you holding up over there?” she asks.

“I’m fine. A little lonely, but I’ll get used to it.”

“I guess you’re not used to sleeping alone,” Tara says. She has a friendly tone, but the way she said that is full of implications.

“What do you mean?” Does she think Ryan and I have been sleeping together?

“Come on, I saw you guys.”

“Saw who? You’re losing me.”

“
You and Ryan.
I saw you holding hands on his last night here,” Tara answers plainly.

Oh, yes. I forgot about that. “I don’t even remember. I guess it was no big deal,” I lie. I have no desire to get into a conversation about me and Ryan right now. If it comes down to it and I choose to go to California, I’ll let everyone know. But for now, I’m not admitting to anything, even to my best friend.

“Whatever. I’m not an idiot. I know there is something going on between you two. That’s some scandalous stuff and I love it! You’ll tell me all about it when you’re ready.” She says, then adds, “So, what are you doing for Christmas? Hanging with the ‘rents? Bet
that’s
gonna be weird, huh?”

I just laugh uneasily. We continue to talk for a while about nothing of importance, just catching up. We promise to get together after Christmas, and possibly for New Year’s Eve. I can’t plan for that yet—I’m still taking everything day by day.

Despite her probing questions, I’m in a really good mood when we hang up and decide it’s a good time to call Ryan. If talking to Tara can make me feel this good, maybe talking to Ryan will too. Maybe even better.

I dial his number but my call goes to voicemail. I leave a cheery message and I’m pleased with myself that I finally feel up to calling and talking to Ryan. I feel hopeful now that things are starting to get better.

I clean up my mess and finish packing my bags for the morning. For the first time all week, I doze off easily and sleep peacefully through the night.