I push myself up off the bed and make my way across the room to stand opposite him. He’s breathing heavily, his chest visibly rising beneath his shirt.
“Ryan,” I begin, “did you call me… a chaotic, shiny star?”
He groans, burying his face in his hands. “God, yes, I did.”
“And you call yourself a writer.”
“I never claimed to be a good one,” he murmurs through his fingers.
I take his hands in mine and lower them, smiling up at him.
“I’ve been thinking about you all week, too.”
He hesitates, his eyes searching mine. “You… you have?”
“Yes,” I say, reaching forward and placing my hands on his solid chest. “I want this. Whatever this is.”
He lets out a sigh and then dips his head to rest his forehead against mine, and we remain still like that for a few seconds, savoring this moment that feels heavy with the anticipation of what’s to come.
Gradually, the energy between us shifts. My hands movedown Ryan’s chest to his waist and I pull him closer. I tilt my head back, my breath catching in my throat as his lips crush against mine. He kisses me slowly and gently, and I melt into him, my hands reaching up to thread my fingers through his hair, a surge of relief and happiness pulsing through my body that he wants this as much as I do. He kisses me deeper, moving his lips down my jawline, his warm, strong hands moving from my hips to my lower back as I arch against him, my skin tingling beneath his touch. He drops light kisses down the slope of my neck, along my glittering collarbone, nudging the strap of my dress with his lips until it slips off my shoulder.
I’m impatient, suddenly overwhelmed by the urgency of wanting him. He doesn’t protest as I start fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, helping me to get it off him altogether, shaking it loose down his arms until it drops on the floor. Pressing my hands against his bare, muscular chest, I guide him toward the bed and he sits down. He reaches for my waist and pulls me down so I straddle him.
His warm hands slide up my thighs, scrunching my dress around my hips, and a low sound emits from his throat as his fingers play along the fabric of my thong. I tip my head back as his lips skim my jaw, and he kisses down to the base of my throat before his hands move to the back of my dress, his fingers finding the zip and slowly, carefully pulling it down. As the bodice of the dress loosens, I pull it over my head and drop it to the floor.
Breathing heavily, he pauses to take a moment to look at me properly, his blue eyes scanning down and back up to meet mine before breaking into a smile that makes my stomach somersault, and any shyness I felt evaporates. Cradling his face in my hands, I dip my head down and give him a slow, deep kiss, and as he responds, my whole body aches for this not to be fleeting.
In one swift move, he lifts me to the side and my breath catches as he eases me down, lying me back on the bed as thoughI don’t weigh a thing. My legs still locked around his hips, he presses down on top of me. His fingers tangle through my hair as his lips hungrily find mine, his kisses suddenly deeper, more urgent. I sink my nails into the skin of his shoulder blades, and my teeth catch his bottom lip, causing him to let out a small, involuntary groan. I reach down to undo his belt, then his trousers, and he helps me with the task, pushing them down below his hips.
Shifting beneath him, I lift my hand to push his hair back from his forehead so I can look at him properly. I don’t want this to be a hazy blur; I want to be able to remember. At my slowing down, I sense him hesitate and my instinctive reaction is to grip him tighter, desperate not to lose this moment, this perfect moment that I suddenly realize I’ve been longing for. I can feel how much he wants me when he’s pressed this close, and I’m aching for him to be closer.
“Do you have a condom?” he asks, his voice ragged, his eyes locked on mine.
I relax, breaking into a smile of relief. “You’re telling me you don’t carry them around in your pocket on work trips?”
“Funnily enough, no,” he chuckles softly, leaning in to graze my neck with his lips.
“Not like you to be so unprepared, Ryan. I must say, I’m a little bit disappointed in you.”
“I’ll make up for it. And trust me,” he says, his warm breath tickling my ear, “it’s a good thing that I wasn’t prepared for this tonight.”
“And why is that?”
He lifts his head again, his face hovering above mine.
“Because if I’d known this was coming, I wouldn’t have wasted a moment on anything else,” he says simply. “Not the dinner, not the cocktails, not the people. I wouldn’t have wastedone more moment,Harper.”
Goose bumps cover my skin as I gaze up into his eyes. I swallow and then say, “Well it’s a good thing that one of us is prepared,” and I gesture toward the bathroom.
Ryan smiles and draws away and I take a moment to catch my breath. When he reappears, the sight of his already-disheveled hair; his toned, muscular chest, abs, and arms; his glittering eyes; and his knowing smile does something strange to my chest. My heart flutters and I’m consumed by a surge of dizzying exhilaration as he makes his way back to me.
I can’t believe he wants me as much as I want him.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he checks, leaning over me again, his lips brushing against mine.
“Yes,” I say firmly, already arching into him.
No more hesitations. No more pauses. We’ve waited long enough. I pull his mouth to mine and we kiss so deeply, it sends a series of shivers down my spine. Ryan’s hands slip down, over my hip bone and under my thong, and I have just long enough to spare a grateful thought for bringing this sexy underwear on the trip before it’s hard to think about anything at all. Something about Ryan’s hands on me feels better than it’s ever felt with anyone else, and I wonder fleetingly if it’s because he knows me so well—this man understands me in every way.
