I smile to myself. Charlotte’s love life is never dull, that’s for sure. I shove my phone into my bag. I’m sure Charlotte’s got a fabulous story to tell me, as usual, but I don’t have time to hear it at the moment. Right now, I’ve got to convince an asshole-player-douche not to torpedo my entire life by telling Josh and Kat the stupid thing I admitted to him three months ago at The Pine Box.Motherfucker!
And, by the way, why the hell is Ryan so enraged about the “Samantha” thing? Okay, okay, I told him a fake name and occupation, but it was a victimless crime, dude! It’s not like I went on and on about my “glamorous career” throughout our conversation. To the contrary, I didn’t talk about my supposed profession even once! It’s not like I promised him some sort of friends-and-family-discount on flights! So, what’s his freaking deal? Jeez, the way Ryan looked at me in the lobby, I swear he wanted to strangle me with his bare hands. Or screw me. Or, heck, maybe I was just projecting my own impulses onto him, because, hot damn, that’s exactly what I wanted to do: rip his clothes off and screw him like an animal and then strangle him with my bare hands. Not normal.
Okay, get a grip, Tessa. Focus on the task at hand. Ignore the fact that your crotch is currently swollen and throbbing. Your only tasks right now are twofold: one, to immediately stop wanting to fuck a lying scumbag (because that’s not normal!), and, two, to convince said lying scumbag to keep his big mouth shut about the stupid little crush you admitted to him.
I reach Ryan’s door.
I’ll just remain calm and explain things to him, that’s all. I’ll stay cool and calm and convince him there’s no reason whatsoever to tell Kat or Josh or anyone else a word of what I said. In fact, I know! I’ll threaten him that if he outs me, I’ll tell every single member of his family he’s a lying, cheating scumbag who collects phone numbers and asks women on dinner-dates behind his girlfriend’s back.
Yes. So that’s the plan, then: Remain calm, cool, and rational; and, as necessary, fight fire with fire.
I take a deep breath, shift my weight in a vain attempt to relieve the incessant pulsing in my crotch, and rap twice on the sexy bastard’s door.
26
Tessa
The door to Ryan’s room opens and there he is, the lying bastard himself, a panty-melting vision of blazing blue eyes, taut muscles, and ink.
Ryan leans forward slightly in the doorframe and the smell of his cologne fills the air between us.“Hello,T-Rod,” he says caustically.
I inhale deeply, titillated by his delicious scent. “Hello, Kat’s brother,” I say, matching his caustic tone. Holy hot damn, I’ve never in my life experienced this bizarre cocktail of hatred and arousal, all at once.
Ryan’s gaze fixes onto my heaving chest for a long beat and then scorches a path slowly up to my face. “Gosh,T-Rod,” he says, his eyes blazing.“Thanks for coming to my room for a little chat.” He smiles like an executioner unsheathing his sword. “I know you must be incredibly busy these days, planning... and plotting... tofuck... your... boss.”
My heart stops.Oh, no he didn’t.
Ryan continues breezily: “So have you figured out your plan of attack for fucking my sister’s fiancé yet? Are you maybe gonna wait ’til Josh is shitfaced drunk this week and offer him a little quickie in the final hours before he says ‘I do’?”
I clench my fists.
“Or maybe you’re gonna swoop in right after my sister’s given birth to Josh’s baby girl and—”
I can’t listen to another disgusting word. In a fit of rage, I lunge at him, my fists raised, my heart racing, my only intention to make him shut the hell up through any means necessary, but he’s much too strong and quick on his feet to let an inexperienced ass-kicker like me get the best of him. In a flash of heat and blazing blue eyes and clenched teeth, the bastard’s got both my wrists firmly in his grasp and he’s pulling my screeching body into his room and kicking the door closed behind us.
“Asshole!” I yell, struggling to free myself from his iron clutches.
“Sociopath,” he spits back.
In one fluid motion, he shoves my back against a nearby wall, pins my arms above my head, and presses himself against me, and when I feel the unmistakable sensation of his steely hard-on jutting against my crotch (right against my clit, as a matter of fact), I lose all resolve to resist him. I grind myself into the hard bulge in his pants and strain my face up to kiss him—and the second my lips make the barest of contact with his, he groans loudly, releases my arms, grabs my face, and presses his lips against mine like a man possessed.
When Ryan’s tongue slides into my mouth, my entire body jolts like I’ve just stuck my finger into a light socket. I throw my arms around his neck and press my body against his and let his tongue and lips lead mine in what’s truly the most electrifying kiss of my entire life. Or, hell, maybe it’s just been so damned long since I’ve felt this particular sensation, I’m easily impressed. But, either way, oh my God, in this moment, I’d swear on a stack of bibles this is the most passionate kiss of my life! If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear this man was being reunited with his long-lost love—either that or he’s just escaped from a ten-year prison stint and I’m his first glorious taste of freedom.
“Samantha,” Ryan breathes against my lips, and every cell in my body explodes with arousal at the sheer perversity of him calling me by that name. Damn, that’s hot. And liberating as hell. He’s kissing Samantha the Randy Flight Attendant and not Tessa Rodriguez? Fine by me. Because guess what, fuckwad? I’m not kissing you, either—I’m kissing the distant memory of my perfect Prince Charming—the sexy, articulate,honestguy I initiallythoughtI’d met at The Pine Box.
Unexpectedly, Ryan pulls out of our kiss and grabs ahold of my face, his features intense. “Leave now if you still need to ‘take things slow,’” he says, his eyes wild. “I know I said I could do that, but I can’t—not anymore. One more taste of you and—”
I press myself forcefully into his hard-on, shutting him up. “Do you have protection?” I grit out.
He nods furiously.
“Then, let’s use it.”
“Thank you, lord.”
In a matter of seconds, he’s got us both stripped down to our underwear and I’m ogling his jaw-dropping muscles and tattoos and—oh my God!—his two pierced nipples! Holy hell, I think I’m about to faint from sheer arousal at the mere sight of him! But my stunned ogling is short-lived because, in seconds, we’re absolutely mauling each other against the wall, our breathing hot and urgent, his murmurs of “Oh my God” and “You’re so fucking gorgeous” and “I’ve waited so fucking long” reverberating in my ear.
He removes my bra with dire urgency and the instant my breasts tumble out of their bondage, he leans down and sucks greedily on my left nipple, whispering about how my breasts are “perfect” and how he’s “waited his entire life” for this moment.
