Roughing It With Ryan (10 page)

Okay, she'd wanted to cover his body in ice cream and eat it off. But that had been when she'd been mad and full of all that wild energy. That had been before, when she'd felt the irrational urge to compete with his Barbie doll date.

But now she didn't want to compete with anyone.

“This is
such
a bad idea,” she whispered, just as he stroked her jaw and lowered his forehead to hers.

“Probably.”

“So let's just walk away,” she said desperately.

“I'd rather fight for it.”

Panic filled her at the thought, true and heart-
stopping panic, because she instinctively knew, she wouldn't be able to resist. “No.”

“You're scared. I know.
I know,
Suzanne.”

“I'm not scared.”

“I'm not like them. I'm not like the other men you've let in your life. I'm willing to fight for this, not just walk away when it gets tough.”

Is that what had happened to her? Had no one, including herself, ever fought hard enough to make it work?

“I'm going to fight,” he warned her. “Fight for you.”

“Very bad idea.” Her voice shook, because she knew he'd fought for his family, his life. And he'd fight for her. Oh, God.

He put his mouth to hers, and with nothing more than a light, gentle, soulful touch of their lips, her entire body came alive. So did her heart.

“No,” she whispered, putting her hands on his wrists to pull him away, but somehow she ended up just holding on. “I don't want you to fight for this.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have a will of steel. I know you do, after all you've been through.”

“This is a different kind of fight altogether.”

It was, and she knew it. This was a fight of the heart and soul. One she was in no way ready or able to re
sist. Slowly she shook her head. Reached behind her. Grabbed the ice cream and clutched it to her chest. “You should go.”

“I want you, Suzanne. I want to hold you, touch you. Bury myself in you. I want to be with you, see you smile, laugh. Live.”

“That's fighting dirty,” she whispered, voice thick. “But I can fight dirty, too.” Reaching out, she grabbed a very cold fistful of the now slightly melted ice cream, pulled up his shirt and slapped the ice cream low on his belly, just above his jeans. And though she went a bit wobbly at the feel of his warm, hard stomach, she locked her knees together and lifted her chin to nosebleed height.

He sucked in a harsh breath and his jeans gaped, allowing the ice cream to slide down, down, down and out of view. A strangled sound escaped him.

She clapped her hand to her mouth.

Eyes hot, he politely took the spoon from her. Dipped it into the ice cream.

And smiled the smile of the very devil.

“Ryan.” She laughed and backed up. Right into the counter.
“Ryan.”

“Yes, that would be my name.”

“I don't—”

“Yes?” he cocked his head. “You don't…what?”

“Well…” She smiled a bit nervously. “I don't think
there's any cause to act like children here—” The words ended with an abrupt gasp as he let the ice cream fall off the spoon and down her half unbuttoned, half off her shoulders dress.

Still smiling, he then put his hand over the center of her chest, fingers spread wide, and pressed, smashing it into her skin.

Shocked by the cold, she panted. “Okay, maybe an ice-cream fight is a bad idea.”

“I'll agree. So here's a different kind of fight for you.” Hauling her against him, ice-creamed chest to ice-creamed chest, he let out a slow smile that started her heart pumping. “Fight back if you dare,” he whispered before putting his mouth to hers.

“R
EMEMBER
.
This…is…just sex,” Suzanne panted when they both broke free from the kiss for air. Her chest rose and fell as if she'd been running uphill for an hour, the pulse beat wildly at the base of her neck. “Just sex,” she said again. “Right?”

Ryan could feel her vulnerability as his own. “You want me to be honest?”

Her eyes clouded. Clearly she wasn't sure if she wanted honesty or not, and in the face of her confusion, he felt the most overwhelming, most unexpected tenderness.

“Maybe we shouldn't talk,” she said.

Disappointment tasted like the bitter chocolate ice cream on his bottom lip. “You want me to go?”

“Yes.”

Good. Because while his body throbbed, his mind actually agreed. He took a large step back.

“You're…walking away.”

“Walking away,” he agreed.

“Good.”

“Great.”

He had no idea who made the first move, they simply, suddenly, lunged at each other. Ripped at clothing. Sank fingers into hair. Kissed so deeply he had no idea where her mouth ended and his began. “Ryan, my God…” Her voice was ragged and filled with hunger.

“I know. We have to—”

“Yes.”

He lifted her up, set her on the counter and stepped between her thighs in one motion, then groaned when she arched to him, sliding against his erection so that his eyes crossed.

“Here?” She practically mewled it. “Now?”

“Here. Now.” He tugged the bodice of her dress down, catching it on her arms, pinning them to her side. Oh yeah, that worked for him. Opening her bra, spilling her breasts free, his knees nearly buckled at the sight of them, full and creamy, with rose nipples budded tight, begging for his attention.

“Ryan, free my arms. I want…”

But he wanted, too, and taking advantage, he lifted the spoon and dribbled the soft melting ice cream over her bared breasts.

She sucked in a hard breath, and the chocolate-covered curves jiggled for him, making his mouth water. He had to unhook her ankles from behind his back to work her panties down, but then was able to
dribble more ice cream over her quivering belly. Her inner thighs.

“Ryan…” She jerked when a drop hit at the vee of those thighs. “That's…going to be…sticky.”

He liked that she could barely talk, that she was out of breath already. “Not if I lick it off first.”

Her eyes went huge. “You're going to—”

“Watch.” Bending, he put his hands on the tops of her legs, spread them even wider, groaning at the view
that
presented. “God, you're beautiful.” And she was, all hot and wet for him, dotted with chocolate topping he couldn't wait to eat off.

She gasped when he lowered his head.
“Wait.”

He lifted his gaze. “Problem?”

“It's just that…I…no one's ever…” Closing her eyes, her cheeks went bright red.

“No one's ever put his mouth on you before?”

Eyes still closed, she shook her head.

He felt a flash of anger at the other men in her life, which was quickly replaced by a surge of satisfaction. He'd be the one to show her what it should be like. “Open your eyes, Suzanne.”

When she did, he slid his hands up her thighs until his thumbs met.

She let out a helpless little hum.

With the pad of his finger he smeared the chocolate right over the center of her. “Now.”

“N-now?”

“Now I'm going to lick you, just as I promised.”

“Oh. Well…”

He licked her.

“Oh!”

“Mmm. Chocolate-covered woman.” He licked his lips. “My favorite flavor.”

“Ryan, I—” The words turned into a little whimper when he licked her again. He liked the rough, needy sound she let out so much he just kept at it.

“Ohmigod. Ohmigod.”

When he switched to a nibble, then sucked her into his mouth, she nearly bucked right off the counter. He simply slid his hands beneath her, cupping her delectable butt in his hands and held on. Licking. Sucking. More licking. In a minute, she was on the edge. Then her every muscle tightened, trembled, and he waited for her explosion.

Instead, she tried to close her thighs. “Stop!”

Damn, the magic word. He lifted his head. Her arms were still pinned at her sides, her fists clenched, her every panting breath making her bared breasts shimmer and shake.

Then he looked into her wild, glazed eyes. Her wild,
stressed out
eyes. “Ryan…I'm going to…”

“Come?” he asked gently. “You're going to come?”

Her hair flew into her face when she let out a jerky nod, and his heart constricted with such affection he could hardly breath. “But that's good.” He stroked a finger right over the plump, turgid flesh he'd just been sucking on. “Really good.”

Her entire body twitched upward, seeking more of that touch. “But—”

“I want you to.” Lowering his head so that his breath brushed against her hot, hot body, he whispered, “Come in my mouth, Suzanne.”

And with the next stroke of his tongue, she did exactly that with thrilling abandon.

 

W
HEN
S
UZANNE
could open her eyes, she stared at Ryan, shocked. She'd come. In his mouth.
She'd come in his mouth.

“Good?” he asked with a smile that might have been smug if it hadn't been filled with so much tight need.

She opened her arms, and straightening, he stepped right into them, but she needed more, too. She tugged at his shirt, sucking in a breath when he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside.

He was beautiful.
Beautiful.
She already knew that, but seeing him up close and personal, touching him, gliding her fingers over his hot, hard flesh…

“Tell me you have a condom,” she said in a low
voice she didn't even recognize as her own. She'd never in her life made the first move, but she was shameless now, and he'd made her that way.

“I have a condom.”

Shocking herself, she undid the button of his pants. Reached for the zipper. The rasp of metal on metal seemed loud in the room where the only other sound was their ragged breathing.

And Suzanne's breathing was very ragged, more so when she slipped her hand inside, past the melted ice cream and wrapped her fingers around him. He was fully erect, needing release, and she was so desperate for the same thing she could hardly contain herself.

“Your bed,” he said.

But she shook her head. She didn't want to wait that long. “Here.”

He fascinated her, he had from that very first day when he'd dropped out of that tree, but this, right here right now, was taking that fascination to another level and she knew it. He was real, much more real than anyone else she'd let in her life. He had hopes and dreams. He was physical, astonishingly graceful.

Powerful.

And aroused. For her.

She wanted him, wanted him in a way that went
beyond the physical, and she was going to have to face that. Later.

His fingers were shaking as he put on the condom. Watching him was the most erotic thing she'd ever seen.

“Ryan?”

His gaze, hot and heavy, lifted to hers.

“Hurry.” She slipped her arms around his neck at the same time he caught her up and hauled her to him. With her wrapped around him, he turned from the counter and faced the table. One swipe of his hand sent her mail and a couple of books to the floor before he sat her on it. He was strong and hard, and she'd never wanted anyone as she wanted him. He took her face in his hands, and when they kissed this time it was no simple, gentle touch but a deep, wet, hot statement of raw hunger.

They were both lost in it. He bunched the material of her skirt up past her waist. She used her toes to shove down his pants. He pulled a breast into his mouth, teasing the chocolate-covered nipple with his tongue while she guided him to where she needed him most.

Then he thrust into her, making them both cry out. Using the table for leverage, he pulled back and thrust again, this time going higher, deeper. And then again.

Looking at him, holding his dark, dark gaze, she
burst right out of herself, yet another orgasm, with shocking ease, when such a thing had never come easy for her, never. Always, she'd had to strain and strain, and often had just settled without.

Not now, though she had the sinking feeling it wasn't the time or the place, but the man.

Oh, yeah, it was the man.

He kissed her again, and touched her face. Drew her hands to his chest and moaned his encouragement when they lowered. And she felt, unbelievably, another tightening within her body. Struggling to keep her eyes open, she watched as he drove her higher, then higher still, and at the end, threw his head back, her name on his lips.

Just watching him, so untamed, so uninhibited, hearing him say her name in that ragged voice, triggered her third—her
third!
—orgasm of the night.

But even as the lights exploded inside her head and her body shuddered with the insane pleasure of it all, her mind rebelled. And held back.

Because this was nothing but a single episode. An end to a means. A temporary diversion.

And no matter what her heart cried as Ryan gently put his mouth to hers, no matter what she really yearned for, she wouldn't let herself sink into him.

She'd keep her heart out of it.

 

F
OR
R
YAN
, he came back to earth in slow increments. “If that was just sex,” he said, too weak to lift his face
away from Suzanne's neck or open his eyes. “I'll eat my shorts.”

This was greeted with silence.

Forcing himself, he pulled away from the soft skin of her neck and looked at her.

She, however, hopped down from the table and bustled around, gathering clothes, tossing his to him.

“Suzanne?”

She turned away, staring out the window, into the dark, dark night.

“Hey. You okay?”

She hugged herself, and when he put his hands on her shoulders, she stepped forward, and away from him. “Of course I'm fine. Perfectly fine.”

He had a good idea what was going through her head. She was very busy distancing herself, convincing herself that everything was still the same. But she was wrong, nothing was the same, and it wouldn't be ever again. “What just happened wasn't the norm for me, I want you to know that.” He'd been with other women, he'd even done it in a kitchen before, once with whipped cream, but even that hadn't been close to what he'd just shared with Suzanne. Chocolate ice cream or not, this hadn't been just sex. When she'd been in his arms, he'd felt…whole. And when he'd sank into her body, she'd shattered him, heart and soul.

“It's late,” she said. “I'm sorry.” And she walked out of the kitchen. A moment later he heard her bedroom door shut.

Leaving him standing there in the kitchen with his ego on the floor at his feet next to his pants.

 

T
WO MORNINGS LATER
Suzanne stood in the same kitchen in which she'd allow Ryan to eat her up, literally. Chocolate was involved this time as well, though not quite in the same mind-blowing manner.

She was putting little dollops of frosting on top of cookies, preparing a dessert tray for her third catering event of the week. A luncheon, a referral from the party she'd catered at Ryan's.

Ryan.

Only two nights before he'd rocked her world right here in this very kitchen, looking at her with those dark, dark eyes as if she could quite possibly be the one for him.

And she'd ruined that by walking away.

Which had left her lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for two nights running, wondering which exact gene she'd inherited that had made her such an fool.

With a sigh, she popped another fattening cookie into her mouth. It made for an even dozen. The chocolate melted in her mouth, the cookie dissolved beautifully.

Well, good. If she couldn't keep her personal life on track, at least she made a hell of a cookie.

 

A
FTER THE LUNCHEON
, Suzanne drove through South Village, trying to clear her head. Everything had gone smooth. Better than smooth. She'd booked two more jobs for the following week.

Pretty good for a hobby, she supposed, and ignored the little voice that said it should be more than a hobby.

Maybe she just hadn't been born to be regimented, responsible or serious.

It was afternoon and the streets were humming with action. Businesswomen were out on break shopping and lunching. Men were watching the women shopping and lunching. There were bikers, walkers, joggers…all talking, laughing or, in the case of a roller-blading teen, singing at the top of his lungs. Scents from the sidewalk cafés contrasted with the scents of Southern California air—flowers and smog.

Suzanne stopped to buy a newspaper, thinking she still needed a job, then drove around some more, checking out a few newer cafés and restaurants.

She came back to reality when she ended up at Ryan's office.

To get out or not, that was the question now. She wondered what it meant that she couldn't come up with an excuse for being there other than the simple one. She wanted to see him.

“Hey.”

At the husky voice in her ear, she jumped. Ryan stood next to her car, looking so good her hands itched to touch, though his smile seemed a bit strained and there were things in his eyes that…oh, God, the things in his eyes.

“Hey,” she said back. “I…just wanted to…” She couldn't remember. “Um…”

He looked at the newspaper on the passenger seat. “Job hunting?”

“Still.”

“What's up with the catering?”

“It's just—”

“A hobby,” he said with her, then smiled.

“It is.”