Love Unrehearsed (11 page)

My head jerked, surprised by his voice. Ryan reached out and gently caressed my cheek in his hand, silently mouthing “hi” to me. In that moment, everything else ceased to exist. His love for me was overwhelming and in that instant something new, something profoundly deep tied us even stronger. I felt it as sure as I felt my own heartbeat. I gathered his warm hand quickly and gave it a kiss.

“Oh hey,” Pete said, giving me the “see what I mean” lopsided look I know so well.

Ryan straddled the chair next to me, pressing his body close to mine. My mind quickly veered to thinking about how much I’d like to just snuggle up in his arms and end this tiring day. I was starting to feel like Pete looked—exhausted. Ryan softly kissed the exposed skin on my shoulder and oh so seductively drifted the tip of his nose on my neck.
Freaking tease.

Pete cleared his throat. “Ryan, I was wondering how you’d feel about being Taryn’s partner in our wedding. I’d be honored if you were one of my groomsmen.”

Ryan perked up a bit. “Really? Wow. Sure, I guess. Um . . . wait. I don’t know,” he said. That’s when he parked his forehead on my shoulder.

“I thought you were clear for the first weekend of September?” I reached for my phone to check his calendar, swearing that I had blocked it off, but other thoughts quickly dawned on me.

“I am, I think,” he muttered. “That’s not it. Pete, I’m honored that you asked but I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. You know I tend to cause a stir wherever I go. I don’t want to ruin your wedding day. That’s your day.”

I set my evening bag back down on the table and sighed, imagining the pandemonium that would ensue from Ryan and me being seen in a church together. This morning’s tabloid gossip reported that Ryan proposed because I’m supposedly pregnant. “Yeah, he’s right. You don’t want the paparazzi at your wedding.”

“Ah, screw them. I want you there,” Pete retorted emphatically, poking the white tablecloth with his finger to emphasize his point.

The more I considered it, the more I envisioned Tammy’s wedding being ruined by party crashers and hundreds of photographers all vying for a clear shot of Ryan in a tux. “No. It’s not a good idea,” I said remorsefully. “Just ask your cousin.”

Ryan cleared his throat. “Um, I don’t recall saying
no
,” he corrected me. “Can I get back to you on that, Pete?”

I didn’t understand why Ryan would need time to think about it. After the big deal that was made out of our proposal photos, I could only imagine the crap that would be printed from us being seen walking in and out of a church.

What’s going to happen when Ryan and I get married? My mind filled with visions of helicopters flying overhead, security everywhere wearing hidden communication earpieces like the damn Secret Service—checking to make sure that the poor caterers weren’t paparazzi spies.

Just as my mind started to drift further into those ghastly images, my slightly inebriated fiancé bit his teeth gently but firmly into the nape of my neck.

A heated tickle shivered through me as he whispered “dance with me” into my ear.

Ryan led me by the hand, weaving us through the bodies that slowly swayed on the dance floor. The tacky mirror ball that twirled over the center of the floor cast sparkles of twinkling light through the darkness, swirling me further into this amazingly enchanted evening.

I caressed the nape of his neck as he wrapped me securely in his arms, resting his cheek on my temple. It was nice to share a moment of peace in this very stressful day.

Ryan gently smiled. “Are you having fun?”

I beamed back at him and nodded. “Yes. Very much so. Thank you for yet another amazing night.”

His deep voice lowered. “Thank you for sharing it with me. You really impressed me tonight, schmoozing with Universal’s moneymen like that. You really know your shit about finances.”

I shrugged. “I know enough to be dangerous. I just want to learn as much as I can about this business, that’s all.”

“Learn? By the look on Jeff Westfield’s face when you started telling him all that shit about P/E ratios and ways he can diversify his whatever, I’d say you were the teacher, sweetheart.”

Doubtful
. Although I was trying to impress, I didn’t want to be thought of as nothing more than arm candy with boobs.

“You don’t think? He just offered you
a job
. At Universal.”

“A comment like ‘if you’re ever in L.A. and need anything, come see me’ hardly constitutes a job offer, Ryan. He was just being nice.”

Ryan didn’t agree. “For someone who can read people well, you’re
way
off on this one.”

“I can read you,” I said smugly.

“Oh yeah? Can you tell what I’m thinking now?” That smirk of his contained many innuendos.

Our mutual smiles led to a kiss—one that was almost impolite considering we were among several hundred people. His lips parted and his tongue reached for mine and I couldn’t help but drink him in. The tastes of whiskey and beer blended with champagne and chocolate, creating a flavor that was all our own.

“God, the things I want to do to you right now,” he breathed out on my lips. “What do you say we get out of here? I need to lay you down on a bed.”

“Oh really?” I teased, somewhat breathless.

“Uh huh.” Ryan nodded devilishly. His eyes narrowed on me. “What, aren’t you in the mood?”

“No, no, I am. Absolutely,” I quickly replied. “But . . .”

“But what?”

“I’m just curious. So what is it
exactly
that you want to do to me? It’s just . . . I want to know what’s in store for me before I agree to leave this wonderful party.”

Ryan smirked, his hand resting on the small of my back, guiding our hips. “I thought we’d play it by ear. See what pops up when we get there. But I can definitely tell you that I have something
huge
that I want to give ya.”

I made a face at him, biting my lip thinking about it. “Er . . . I don’t know. I was hoping for more details than that. I think you’ll have to come up with a better script.”

He folded our hands to his chest and swayed us to the beat.

“How about we play ‘bad cop–hooker’? I’d like to see you restrained.”

With full intent to tease, I sneered at his suggestion. “I’ve seen that movie already. Maybe you should hire a scriptwriter. I think I met a few of those tonight. Let me go find one . . .”

Ryan pulled me back to his chest roughly, never releasing his hold on my hand.

“I thought that this might be a co, co, llab . . . collab-bora-tive effort. Shit.”

“
Great
 . . . sloppy five-minute drunken sex,” I whined, messing with him further.

Ryan gave me a playful leer and tightened his grip on my body. “Believe me, woman, I’m far from drunk. I’m going to take my good ol’ time with you,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear. “Use the sheets to tie your little smart ass to the bed. Punish you for doubting me. See how long you can ride my tongue before you scream.”

His erotic words tugged on that sweet spot deep within my core. I could definitely go for one of his tongue lashings.

I ran a hand over his hard chest, down his flat stomach, imagining my fingernails turning into claws, effortlessly shredding the white dress shirt that separated me from his skin. I whispered into his ear, “I’m betting that you pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.”

He took the back of my neck in a possessive grasp as he raked his top teeth over his lip. “That’s a bet you’re sure to lose, my love, because I am definitely,
definitely
up for the challenge.”

I squeezed my fingers into his buttocks, coaxing his hips to grind in a bit harder as if he were already naked and between my legs. I didn’t care that we were in a room full of people.

The music swirled and the lights danced around us, sending my blood into hyperdrive. Ryan’s finger drifted, seductively snaking down my neck, over the hollow of my throat, down to the crest of my cleavage. I envisioned his tongue snaking the same path.

He sighed, almost saddened, resigned. “The hardest part is knowing that underneath this
incredibly
sexy dress is a totally hot lace bustier and sheer panties that you put on when you thought I wasn’t looking. But I have to confess . . . I was
so
looking.”

I nudged him lightly. “That was supposed to be a surprise!”

All playfulness was gone, replaced by determination and hunger. His lips came down on mine, taking ownership of my mouth, of my senses. One touch of his tongue was all I needed to open and let him in.

“Don’t be mad,” he murmured, reminding me that he still possessed total control of my body. “I’m an actor, remember? I can play
surprised
.”

My mind drifted, picturing his long, hard body holding me fast to the bed. He wants to pretend to be surprised? I’ll give him surprised.

“You’re obviously not a very good Peeping Tom, since you failed to mention that I’m wearing your favorite item.”

He glanced down at the floor. “The stilettos?”

I shook my head.

As if I’d just told him Santa Claus was truly real, his eyes opened wide, all glistening and hopeful. His hand flew to my thigh, seeking confirmation. A deep, feral groan rolled up this throat when he found the top band of my nylons.

I bit his earlobe tenderly. “I’d much rather you played evil doctor with me.”

That was apparently all he could take.

“I am going to fuck you in those shoes. That and the nylons. When we get back to the room, they stay on.” Ryan grabbed my hand and quickly led us through the crowd. There was no stopping him. He was a man on a mission.

Oui

Through my blissfully heavy eyes, I barely took in the sights of another opulent hotel suite, dimly lit from the soft glow of a table lamp. The last eleven days had blurred into one continuous streak of hurried travel, decadent meals, paparazzi chases, limo rides, blinding camera flashes, and screaming fans to the point that I was dizzy from it all.

Ryan’s mouth tenderly caressed the base of my neck as he panted heavily from physical exertion. My lungs ached as if they were at risk of collapse from dragging in so many repeated shallow breaths.

His muscular back arched, allowing refreshing air to channel between our sweat-soaked bodies. His hips rolled and pushed in one more time, sending another ripple through me as his hands pinned my wrists to the bed. I felt the bristly brush of his stubbly chin rasp over my cheek as he lifted his eyes to meet mine.

“Welcome to Paris,” he said softly, rolling the tip of his tongue up the length of my neck, tasting me before covering my lips with his own again.

Considering our plane from Heathrow just landed two and a half hours ago and we were driven straight from the airport to this magnificent hotel, I had barely seen Paris. The first order of business, after spending a few hours salaciously flirting on the airplane, was to strip each other bare and make mad passionate love in this pristine bed.

Responding to his little tease, knowing that he was totally proud of his abilities to ruin me, would have to wait. Most of the pillows had been pushed to the floor, the sheets were in complete disarray, and powerful aftershocks from my mind-blowing orgasm were still jolting my body.

I took the momentary reprieve of my lips to exhale out the one French word I knew. “Oui.”

Even making that one little sound felt like a monumental feat.

Ryan’s gaze was thoughtful and intense, silently telling me everything that mere words alone could not define nor express. Desire to devour him overwhelmed me and I grazed my teeth over his muscular bicep before tugging his hair so I could suck that tasty little lobe of his ear into my mouth. Ryan let out a growl of pleasure before reuniting our lips for more passion.

Anticipation for what was to come, knowing that he was far from finished with me, heightened the sensations even further. He was being a considerate lover, pausing to allow me some time to recover before unleashing the rest of his wickedness on me.

I tried to steady my breathing and my pounding pulse, feeling the sweat of our lovemaking bead up on my hairline. Hot, wet, and tangled; there wasn’t an open part of us left to be connected. I caressed my hands up over his muscular back to his shoulders; my arms wrapped tighter as if my grip could somehow pull him deeper into my soul.

When I drifted my hands down his sides to appreciate his most incredible rear end, he clenched and pressed into me again—slowly—still feeling very formidable and unyielding inside. His pelvis tipped and brushed up on me again, grinding his hips deep with carnal drive into my core.

I tilted my head, giving him full access to my throat. If the world were to unfortunately end at this very moment, I’d go a very sated woman. I felt his teeth graze on my skin, his primal urges to covet and devour surging to the forefront.

Ryan’s body suddenly stilled and he swept a few errant hairs from my eyes, locking his gaze on mine. His face was so serene and yet so serious. He swallowed, collecting his breath before he said, “Je t’aime. Je t’adore. Veux-tu m’épouser?”

Hearing the inflection in his voice as he seduced me with foreign words, and hands that knew every inch of my body, made my thighs quiver.

I threaded my fingers into his hair as he placed soft, sensual kisses on my face, the corners of my mouth, my neck. Willing my mouth to do anything other than kiss him while he fucked me like this was difficult.

“I didn’t know . . . you knew . . . how . . . to speak French.”

Ryan captured my lower lip between his, swirling me in dizzying passion with each kiss, each lick, each succulent suck from his hypnotic mouth. He rolled his hips deliberately, reminding me that he was still very much in the game.

“I don’t, but there were a few things I wanted to learn to say to you while we’re in Paris. Like this. Making love to you.”

My breath hitched from the feelings he invoked. “You had this planned?”

His nose brushed next to mine. Instead of answering, he kissed me deeply. His tongue said yes.