Heat of the Night
Page 12
“His wife is having their baby and Carson says it’ll be any minute now,” Ryan said, jarring her from her thoughts. “I’m gonna be an uncle, babe!”
Although she didn’t know Shelby or Garrett or Carson, Ryan’s enthusiasm was contagious. “God help that baby,” she said with a laugh.
He stood at the foot of the bed, shooting her an expectant look. “Well, come on, get up. We have to go to the hospital.”
Her enthusiasm faded. “Why? I don’t even know these people, Ryan. I don’t want to intrude.”
“You won’t be intruding.” He waved a dismissive hand. “They’ll all be happy to see you, especially Holly.”
“Who’s Holly?”
“I’ll tell you in the car. Now get up already.”
Annabelle slid out of bed, then paused, realizing she was totally naked. Almost immediately, Ryan’s eyes darkened to a midnight blue, and she could see the flicker of arousal in his gaze. Funny enough, she didn’t feel self-conscious. She never walked around naked in the condo she shared with Bryce. Neither did Bryce, for that matter. As their moving-in present, he’d bought them matching robes. To preserve her modesty, she’d thought, but that was before she’d discovered he was a prude.
“I need to go upstairs to Christina’s to get some clothes. I only have my bikini here,” she reminded him.
Ryan offered a wolfish grin. “Wear it to the hospital.”
“You wish,” she said with a snort.
“I do wish. All my friends would be jealous.”
Laughing, she went over to the chair near the bed and picked up one of the T-shirts lying there. “Can I wear this?” Without waiting for him to agree—he’d be an ass**le not to—she slipped the shirt over her head. It hung down to her knees, and as she walked toward Ryan, he had a devilish look in his eyes.
“You look seriously cute in that shirt,” he said, then elicited a startled squeak from her mouth by planting his hands on her waist, pulling her close and kissing her.
His lips were so soft, so warm. Annabelle’s toes curled as his mouth moved over hers in a teasing caress. God, he knew how to kiss. He knew how to do everything, in fact. They’d had sex three times already, and each time he pushed that thick c**k into her, it took her breath away. Not that she was surprised. Just looking at him, you knew he’d be good in bed. What would Bryce think if he could see her now?
The notion brought a pang of guilt to her belly, followed by a jolt of anger. Screw Bryce. Who cared what he thought. He hadn’t thought twice before hooking up with someone else, so why should she?
“Okay,” Ryan groaned, breaking the kiss. “If we keep doing that, we’ll never get to the hospital.” He reached his arm around her and gave her butt a little slap. “Let’s get a move on.”
“Do we have to?”
“Yep. Don’t worry, Annie, it’ll be fun.”
She didn’t bother to correct him this time. He’d simply pick another annoying nickname if she said anything, and truth be told, she was beginning to like it. Nobody had ever called her Annie before. Her mother maintained that the nickname sounded too “common”. Annabelle, on the other hand, now that was a name that screamed wealth, according to Sandra Holmes.
Ryan waited somewhat impatiently as Annabelle got dressed upstairs, but she refused to rush. She still wasn’t sure why he insisted she come with him. She didn’t know any of his friends, and the birth of a child seemed like a rather inappropriate place to bring a girl you’d only known for two days. Yet for some reason, she wanted to go. She liked Ryan. She was drawn to him. And she couldn’t help but be curious about his life, about him.
They left the building fifteen minutes later, and Ryan led her to an olive-green Jeep parked at the back of the lot. He didn’t open the passenger door for her, and she resisted making a sarcastic remark about chivalry. Bryce always opened her door, and it drove her crazy. She was perfectly capable of opening her own door, and when Bryce did it, there was nothing chivalrous about it. It felt more patronizing if anything.
“So what’s the deal with this Bryce guy?” Ryan asked as he started the engine. “Am I helping you cheat on him? ’Cuz I’m not sure how I feel about that. I do have a moral code, you know.”
She grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure you do.” The smile faded as she pondered his question. She’d told him about Bryce earlier, but mostly skimmed over the details. “I guess Bryce and I are broken up.”
He shot her a sideways look before turning his attention back to the road ahead. “Were you really engaged?”
“Pretty much since we were six years old,” she said wryly. “He officially asked me two years ago. Our parents were thrilled.”
“Your parents aren’t the ones getting married. How did you feel about it?” Ryan asked quietly.
She bit her bottom lip. “I…was happy, I guess. I’ve wanted to marry Bryce since we were kids. I thought he was a wonderful guy.”
“Thought?” Ryan echoed, picking up on the past tense.
To her dismay, they reached a red light, which allowed him to turn his head and study her. His blue eyes flickered with curiosity, and discomfort rose up her spine. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Ryan about Bryce’s parting words, about what a priss she supposedly was.
“He said some mean things before he left,” she finally admitted.
Although she didn’t know Shelby or Garrett or Carson, Ryan’s enthusiasm was contagious. “God help that baby,” she said with a laugh.
He stood at the foot of the bed, shooting her an expectant look. “Well, come on, get up. We have to go to the hospital.”
Her enthusiasm faded. “Why? I don’t even know these people, Ryan. I don’t want to intrude.”
“You won’t be intruding.” He waved a dismissive hand. “They’ll all be happy to see you, especially Holly.”
“Who’s Holly?”
“I’ll tell you in the car. Now get up already.”
Annabelle slid out of bed, then paused, realizing she was totally naked. Almost immediately, Ryan’s eyes darkened to a midnight blue, and she could see the flicker of arousal in his gaze. Funny enough, she didn’t feel self-conscious. She never walked around naked in the condo she shared with Bryce. Neither did Bryce, for that matter. As their moving-in present, he’d bought them matching robes. To preserve her modesty, she’d thought, but that was before she’d discovered he was a prude.
“I need to go upstairs to Christina’s to get some clothes. I only have my bikini here,” she reminded him.
Ryan offered a wolfish grin. “Wear it to the hospital.”
“You wish,” she said with a snort.
“I do wish. All my friends would be jealous.”
Laughing, she went over to the chair near the bed and picked up one of the T-shirts lying there. “Can I wear this?” Without waiting for him to agree—he’d be an ass**le not to—she slipped the shirt over her head. It hung down to her knees, and as she walked toward Ryan, he had a devilish look in his eyes.
“You look seriously cute in that shirt,” he said, then elicited a startled squeak from her mouth by planting his hands on her waist, pulling her close and kissing her.
His lips were so soft, so warm. Annabelle’s toes curled as his mouth moved over hers in a teasing caress. God, he knew how to kiss. He knew how to do everything, in fact. They’d had sex three times already, and each time he pushed that thick c**k into her, it took her breath away. Not that she was surprised. Just looking at him, you knew he’d be good in bed. What would Bryce think if he could see her now?
The notion brought a pang of guilt to her belly, followed by a jolt of anger. Screw Bryce. Who cared what he thought. He hadn’t thought twice before hooking up with someone else, so why should she?
“Okay,” Ryan groaned, breaking the kiss. “If we keep doing that, we’ll never get to the hospital.” He reached his arm around her and gave her butt a little slap. “Let’s get a move on.”
“Do we have to?”
“Yep. Don’t worry, Annie, it’ll be fun.”
She didn’t bother to correct him this time. He’d simply pick another annoying nickname if she said anything, and truth be told, she was beginning to like it. Nobody had ever called her Annie before. Her mother maintained that the nickname sounded too “common”. Annabelle, on the other hand, now that was a name that screamed wealth, according to Sandra Holmes.
Ryan waited somewhat impatiently as Annabelle got dressed upstairs, but she refused to rush. She still wasn’t sure why he insisted she come with him. She didn’t know any of his friends, and the birth of a child seemed like a rather inappropriate place to bring a girl you’d only known for two days. Yet for some reason, she wanted to go. She liked Ryan. She was drawn to him. And she couldn’t help but be curious about his life, about him.
They left the building fifteen minutes later, and Ryan led her to an olive-green Jeep parked at the back of the lot. He didn’t open the passenger door for her, and she resisted making a sarcastic remark about chivalry. Bryce always opened her door, and it drove her crazy. She was perfectly capable of opening her own door, and when Bryce did it, there was nothing chivalrous about it. It felt more patronizing if anything.
“So what’s the deal with this Bryce guy?” Ryan asked as he started the engine. “Am I helping you cheat on him? ’Cuz I’m not sure how I feel about that. I do have a moral code, you know.”
She grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure you do.” The smile faded as she pondered his question. She’d told him about Bryce earlier, but mostly skimmed over the details. “I guess Bryce and I are broken up.”
He shot her a sideways look before turning his attention back to the road ahead. “Were you really engaged?”
“Pretty much since we were six years old,” she said wryly. “He officially asked me two years ago. Our parents were thrilled.”
“Your parents aren’t the ones getting married. How did you feel about it?” Ryan asked quietly.
She bit her bottom lip. “I…was happy, I guess. I’ve wanted to marry Bryce since we were kids. I thought he was a wonderful guy.”
“Thought?” Ryan echoed, picking up on the past tense.
To her dismay, they reached a red light, which allowed him to turn his head and study her. His blue eyes flickered with curiosity, and discomfort rose up her spine. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Ryan about Bryce’s parting words, about what a priss she supposedly was.
“He said some mean things before he left,” she finally admitted.
