Guess who’s on their third glass of wine? My thoughts are in the gutter.
He looms in front of me, forcing Conor to sidestep out of his way.
I watch in slow motion as a fluid hand rises. His thumb flicks sensually over my lower lip. Pulling it back, he examines it for a split second before seductively placing it onto his own tongue in a way that has my panties melting.
‘Pastry. Not bad, maybe slightly heavy on the butter.’ He turns to Conor, eyeing him with a steely composure.
Conor’s blue eyes shift to a positively icy shade. ‘Sasha seemed to be enjoying it.’
‘We’re menu tasting for the Christmas ball.’ Why the hell am I explaining myself to Ryan-Runaway-Cooper of all people?
‘I look forward to trying more of them then.’ His eyes bore into mine with an intensity that’s only quadrupled over the last decade.
Mr Hollywood has clearly perfected the art of the drop-your-panties stare because it’s all I can think about, regardless of the fact Conor is standing right next to us.
Who am I kidding? Even at eighteen, he’d mastered that stare.
What’s he playing at tonight, barging in here like this? Interrupting my one evening off. It’s the first time I’ve relaxed in months, an effortless task in Conor’s lovely sunny company.
If Conor’s gentle aura projects picnics, sunshine, strawberries and champagne, Ryan’s projects dark nights, tangled limbs and a lust that burns hotter than neat whiskey.
I guess it’s safe to say, Ryan’s arrival has eclipsed everything.
‘You’re staying for the ball?’ I take a sip of wine to stop myself staring at the god-like creature before me.
‘I think I will.’ He gently prises the glass from my hand, swirls the liquid it contains and takes a thoughtful sip. His espresso coloured eyes linger on mine, heavy with want and clear in their intention as they press against the crystal.
If Ryan were a dog, he would have literally just peed on me. I’m torn between being flattered and outraged. He’s a fucking international superstar. The man was on the front page ofGQtoday as one the most eligible bachelors in the world. I know because Chloe forwarded the link and I opened it before I realised what it was.
He left me. He had his chance. I should be running for the hills, but there’s a part of me that wants to run straight into the fire, straight into his arms and his bed. And that’s even with the certainty he’ll leave me again the second his album’s finished.
‘2012 Cab Sav?’
‘Someone got an education while they were away.’ Conor rolls his eyes. He might just be the only person in the entire estate who is utterly unimpressed by Ryan Cooper. Ahem, other than me, I mean…Who am I kidding?
‘You could call it that, I suppose.’ Ryan shrugs, barely glancing in Conor’s direction. His gaze remains intently fixed on me. It’s an effort not to squirm under the intensity.
Swallowing back the saliva pooling in my throat, I manage to utter, ‘Is there something you were looking for?’
A smirk rips across Ryan’s full lips. ‘Yeah, I was kind of hungry. I still am, actually.’ His stare drops to my cleavage for a millisecond, enough for me to know he’s not simply hungry for food. He was confident at eighteen. At twenty-eight, the man has no shame.
Ryan hovers closely in front of me, while Conor flanks my back. ‘Tell me what you want and I’ll get someone to bring it up to your room. We’re kind of busy, if you hadn’t noticed.’
‘You know I always loved the balls here. One year there was New Year’s Eve ball...’ Ryan’s eyes scan the kitchen with a mischievous glint in them, before focusing on the pantry.
Heat suffuses my skin at a memory I know for certain I’m not the only one reliving. Aged seventeen, it was the first time I let him touch me down there, minutes before the bells rang. Ryan had no problem sullying the black lace dress I wore. I’d never known pleasure like it. Addictive, explosive, life-altering carnality. And he was the instigator of it.
Ryan winks and colour floods my cheeks.
Again, so much for cold and distant. The man has me burning so hot I’m liable to combust.
‘Tell me, was that the year you abruptly left for stardom? Or was that the year prior to that?’ Conor folds his arms over his chest, his voice thick with sarcasm.
‘Believe me, I didn’t leave willingly.’ Ryan’s eyes don’t leave mine, though all trace of his smirk has evaporated.
Sandwiched between the only two men I’ve ever truly been attracted to, I’m too flustered to ask for more details.
Ryan sips from my glass again, before reaching for the open bottle placed to his right, generously topping it up. ‘Don’t mind if I do. It’s not often I get to have a drink with an old friend.’
