Burn: A South Beach Bodyguards Book (18 page)

If I had expected or wanted Ryan to say romantic and complimentary things I was disappointed when he just pulled out and rolled onto his back next to me. “Did that hurt?” he asked.

“Just for a minute,” I said honestly.

His large palm briefly covered my thigh then disappeared. “Good.” His voice was hoarse and when I glanced over at him, his nostrils were flaring. He looked angry and it puzzled me. He climbed out of the bed without warning.

“Where are you going?” My needy voice made me wince. God, I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t be vulnerable. I couldn’t betray him like that. I had promised him I wouldn’t have expectations. But I wanted reassurance. For what, I didn’t know.

He didn’t look back at me. “Throwing away this condom.”

He padded across the carpet toward the glamorous white bathroom. He was in shadow, but I could see and appreciate his very tight ass. I thought about him over me and I blushed in the dark, very aware of my sore vagina. I wasn’t sure what I should do. Wait for him to return? Get dressed? This was uncharted territory and we weren’t dating. We weren’t a couple, but we weren’t nothing either. He was family, in a way. Despite what he insisted about us having no connection whatsoever.

It felt pathetic to just lie there and wait for him so I sat up, giving myself a second. There was a rush of dizziness and I blinked. When I stood up, my legs still felt a little unstable and as the tension eased out of my muscles, I realized I had been clenching everything from head to toe. Rolling my head and easing the strain in my neck, I gathered my clothes and pulled them on. I wanted to go to the bathroom, to take a shower, but Ryan was still behind the closed door.

When he emerged a few seconds later, I was already dressed. He looked surprised to see me pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge, fully clothed.

“Where is the girl who likes to be naked?” he asked, his voice light.

Whatever had been on his face before was gone. He had composed himself in the bathroom. His expression was friendly, reserved, the way it usually was. The intensity of his gaze in bed was gone. He’d reined himself in.

I wanted the opportunity to do the same thing and covering my body was the first step to achieving that. “I was cold,” I said and it was a lie.

“I should have left the slider open.”

Moving past him I fought the urge to seek out approval, comfort, reassurance. Love. Instead I gave him a half-smile and said, “It’s not a big deal.”

In the bathroom I avoided the mirror. I didn’t want to see what might be written on my face. Instead I just used the toilet, washed my hands, splashed water on my face. I was biting my lip, a habit from childhood that I hated, yet could never seem to stop. I tried to decide what movie moment I could classify this situation as, but my mind was a traitorous black hole. No thoughts, only feelings.

When I went back into the room Ryan wasn’t there. The sound of the ocean drew me to the slider. He was sitting at the table in his underwear, a beer in his hand.

Maybe it was better that way. Him in his chair, me in mine. There would be no awkwardness of do we touch or kiss or cuddle in bed together. All of which I wanted but shouldn’t expect. But wanted. God, did I want.

Annoyed with myself, I dropped into the chair across from him.

“Hey. Do you want a drink?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine.” What I wanted was what I couldn’t have. But as I stared out at the dark ocean, I decided I didn’t regret my choice. Ryan had done right by me.

“Let me know, I can go get you something. Do you want me to order food from room service?”

His kindness was oddly annoying. I didn’t want polite solicitation. I wanted things that couldn’t be said out loud. “Okay. But I’m fine, really.”

He didn’t say anything, just gave me a searching stare, like he expected me to burst into tears at any given moment. I ignored him and pulled my shirt down over my knees.

Taking a swig of his beer, Ryan pulled his phone out of his pocket and tossed it on the table. “I’m going to throw this phone into the pool if it doesn’t stop buzzing.”

I could see the screen was lit up. “Dickhead Dad” was calling him. “Shouldn’t you answer that if it’s Mickey? He is your boss.”

“Fuck him.” Ryan shrugged. “He wanted to bring your dog over to my place. I kind of forgot to tell him we weren’t going to be there. He’s blowing my phone up so I’m guessing he’s pissed off at me right now.”

That took a second to sink in. “Wait. So where is my dog now?”

“With your mom and Mickey, I guess. Probably they went back to his place after they realized I’m not home.” Ryan settled further back into his lounge chair. He looked relaxed and satisfied.

Even though I hadn’t spent a lot of time with Ryan, I would have never classified him as a man who was relaxed, or at ease. He was right now, and at the same time I had the very real feminine glee that I might have had something to do with the casual smile on his face, I was bothered by his dismissal of my dog. It seemed like he should have at least mentioned to me that my mother was planning to bring my dog over.

“I should call my mom.”

“Right now?” Ryan’s eyebrows rose. “You can’t tell her where you are, you know. Do you really want to lie, or do you want me to do the lying?”

That made me frown. I could follow his train of thought. Drawing my knees fully up to my chest, I hugged them tight. The wind tossed my hair across my face but I didn’t bother to pull it away. “Why would I lie? I’ll just tell her I’m here with you. She already knows I’m with you.”

“But you don’t want her to know that we were together, together. You don’t want to give her any reason to suspect that, which I kind of think staying in a hotel does.”

It shouldn’t feel uncomfortable, but it did. “I don’t really care one way or the other. You’re the one who clearly does not want her to know.” It felt a little like rejection even if I knew Ryan was being practical. Even if I knew my mother would not be happy and that I was being more than just a little childish in my defiance.

“This is private,” he said. “Just between you and me.”

“A secret,” I said. “Okay.” It wasn’t okay, not really. But I wasn’t sure why it would bother me. I wasn’t going to run around and tell everyone I met about having sex with Ryan. So why did I care? That was obvious. Because I wanted Ryan to want to tell people. Because I was feeling like a sixteen-year-old girl right now. Geez. I hated that I felt that way.

“I want my dog. I miss him.” It sounded more petulant than I intended. Buster was probably wondering where I was. He was used to me being around all the time.

“We can get her tomorrow.”

My irritation grew. “
Him
. Buster is a boy. I wish you had told me. Maybe we could have brought him here.”

Ryan made a face. “I don’t think we needed an audience.” He nudged me with his knee. “Are you upset?” He looked like he thought I might be a little bit crazy. His jaw was set and his shoulders had stiffened. He was assessing me.

I didn’t need to be analyzed. He didn’t need to worry that I might go psycho on him now that we’d hooked up. I knew the situation and I didn’t expect that to change just because he’d put the D in the V. I resented that he would think that I would. Yes, I had feelings but I did have them under control. “No. I just want to see my dog. I want to cuddle with him.”

“I’ll cuddle with you.” Ryan gave me a smirk and took another sip of his beer.

It meant more than it should have. It was an offer of more sex, yet it felt like everything.

He made a hell of a sexy picture sitting there in his underwear, the night dusky, the ocean rhythmic and hypnotic. He was right– he wasn’t good looking in the most traditional sense. But I thought he was hot. And now I’d had him. He had touched me, everywhere, in ways no one else had before. Once. Just once. I wouldn’t get any more. I could be smart and tell him I didn’t want to cuddle. It would be the smart thing to do, for self-preservation. Yet I couldn’t resist the lure of that smile.

I’d have to draw the line at cuddling that turned to sex. I didn’t think I could do that again. It would expose emotion I didn’t want him to see.

“Oh, yeah? Do you like to be scratched behind the ears like Buster does?”

“No. But there are other itches you can scratch.” He gave me a look that was both smoldering and amused, like he knew it was a corny line.

If we were together, for real, this would have been the best conversation ever. It would have made me downright giddy. But this was a side of Ryan I didn’t actually want to see because it made my heart hurt. I ached for him to want more and that just sucked.

I held my hand up to show my nails. Acrylics, because I bit my nails down the quick when they were bare. “I do have good claws.”

“I don’t believe that for a minute.” Ryan stood up, drained his beer and set it down.

He was right. There was no bite to my bark. I yawned. He held his hand out for me.

“Let’s go lie down. I’ll be your stand in for Buster.”

I could have told him that Buster always slept in his basket by my bed, but I didn’t. “That’s awfully nice of you.”

“I aim to please.”

My cheeks warmed. I thought about Ryan earlier, bringing me to orgasm, his careful and considerate attention to my wants so thoughtful and delicious. “You’re pretty damn good at it.”

There were tears in my eyes again, damn it. I glanced away, out at the water, but it was too late. He’d seen me. He looked horrified.

Absolutely horrified.

I sighed, wishing I had a little more Julia in me. The reality was, I didn’t. She was made up, a myth, the result of booze and apparently last night a conk on the head. I debated making up some stupid excuse about having something in my eye or allergies but I didn’t want to lie. I didn’t have to say I was upset out loud but I didn’t want to deny it either. Maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe that was me changing the rules on him or putting my shit onto him.

“Is.” His voice was sympathetic.

Anything but sympathy. I wanted anything but that. Because how many steps away from pity was that really?

“Don’t. Please,” I told him, dropping my knees down onto the balcony floor. “You know, I think I’m just going to call my mom. She’s probably worried about me.”

Part of me wanted him to talk me out of it. To coax me back to bed. But he just said, “I’ll get your phone for you. Is it in your purse?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

And with that, we retreated right back to polite.

I practically fucking ran back into the hotel room, desperate to get away from that naked need on Isabel’s face. Man, she was killing me. I wanted to hug her, to kiss her, to promise to fix everything for the rest of fucking forever if she would just lose the trembling lip and watery eyes. But I couldn’t promise her anything because at some point I would betray it. The idea of being with Isabel for real made my skin feel too tight and my lungs constricted.

It wasn’t fair to say it was a mistake, because I didn’t regret it. I didn’t want anyone else touching her. And it had been amazing. I paused for a second, forgetting what the hell I was doing. She had been amazing. No doubt about that. But she wanted more from me. It was written all over that sweet, guileless face. She had walked into this attached already and that was insane. She didn’t know me. She had decided I was a better person than I actually was based on nothing. Because I was quiet? I don’t know. No idea.

But it was making my skin itch and my balls tighten. I couldn’t be the boyfriend she was clearly seeking because I had a messed up view of relationships thanks to my mother. At least I was smart enough to know that.

I dug through her purse and found her phone and went back outside. My own phone was still on the table and had a whole screen full of texts from Mickey. I didn’t want to deal with him. I didn’t want to deal with Isabel either though. Those tears in her eyes made me want to bolt so fast and hard, and yet… I also wanted to scoop her up into my arms and hold her all night.

This hotel room had been a dumb ass idea. Because I was stuck for the duration and that made me hugely uncomfortable. I’d never spent the night with a woman. I’d never spent the night with anyone. Not a friend, not a girlfriend. No grandparents in Miami. Mom and Dad not exactly the cuddle crowd. The thought of sharing a bed for eight hours made me break out in a cold sweat. I wasn’t sure I could have someone breathing on me while I was asleep and totally vulnerable.

“Here’s your phone.” I handed it to her and reached for my beer. My mouth felt hot and not in a good way.

“Thanks.”

I couldn’t look at her. She was only wearing a T-shirt, no bra. No pants. I was going to want to either fuck her again or hug her. I wanted to do both. I shouldn’t do either.

So to distract myself I picked up my phone and read my texts. Mickey was asking me where the hell I was, where the hell Isabel was. How I’d better answer him or he was GPSing my phone since it was company issued. So he could do whatever the hell he wanted but I couldn’t go off the grid for two hours without the wrath of Mickey? Fuck that.

I texted him back.

Go away.

Where are you?

Out for dinner with Isabel. Don’t worry about it.