Love Unrehearsed
Page 34
His lips locked on mine, tying his question and my answer into an unbreakable knot.
Ryan’s strong hand gripped my hip. “Mon amour,” he said in my mouth. “You are home for me. You’ll always be my home, Taryn.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face in his neck, kissing every inch of him uncontrollably. What started out as a private challenge to make love in every country we visited turned into something profoundly deeper. This was solidifying a union, consummating a promise to each other far beyond the intimate boundaries of physical love.
I said the only words that seemed fitting, but somehow they felt so inadequate. “I love you so much.”
His hips stirred with more vigor; the bed steadily bumped into the wall. The look of painful pleasure creased his eyes. “I love you more.”
I smiled and dug my fingertips into his rear, holding on, wanting him to climb deeper inside of my soul.
His arms wrapped underneath me, lifting me from the warmth of the bed into a warm-er embrace. I straddled up over him; my thighs provided the lift as his hand guided my rear to rock back and forth.
He lay all the way back, helping me adjust my legs. “Take me,” he breathed. “All of me.” His length pummeled inside me. My hands wrapped at the base of his skull, holding his face steady so he’d look me in the eyes.
I sealed my words on his lips. “Till the day I die. Yours. Forever.”
Ryan’s hand locked into my hair, holding my mouth to his. “Come with me, baby,” he
whispered his plea, grinding me down on his pubic bone and the tip of his thumb. He kept at it, at an unrelenting, punishing pace. I felt as though I were being ripped apart and slammed back together all at once.
My head fell to his shoulder as the rolling burn of sensations, the shock-wave overload, coursed through my body.
With a deep groan, his body trembled and convulsed. I felt his warm release pulse inside of me, binding us together forever.
While Ryan was busy shaving in the bathroom, I called Marie. “He proposed to me again—in French.”
“While making love to you?”
“Uh huh.”
“Oh my God, Taryn. That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. Holy shit. Wait until I tell Tammy.”
I moved my cell to my other ear so she could yell excitedly into that one. “No! Please don’t tell anyone, Marie. Not even Tammy.
This is so private. I shouldn’t even be telling . . . I’m just . . . blown away. It was so amazing. I’ve never . . .” Moisture gathered at the corner of my eye again from thinking about it. “Ah. We have to change the subject.
Tell me something else. So how are things going there? How’s our pub?”
“Screw that. I want to hear more about sex in foreign countries.”
“Marie . . . ,” I groaned.
“The bar is still in one piece, Tar. Busy, although you’ll be glad to know that the influx of obsessive fangirls has died down. Oh, and the five- foot cooler is shot. I can’t believe he proposed to you
again in French! God, I really hate you right now. Ryan Freakin’
Christensen, naked in Paris, whispering French I-love-yous in your ear while doing you. Grr. So not fair. Man, why couldn’t I have been the one to open the pub that day?” I snickered lightly. “It wouldn’t have mattered. You’re married, remember?” Marie snorted but not with humor. “Yeah, well. Not for long.”
I grabbed my backpack to get my laptop, wishing I would have kept my big mouth shut. “Oh, Marie, come on. Listen, you know I didn’t call to brag. Did we, um . . . did we get the tax bill in the mail yet? And what did you say about the cooler not working?”
“You are so determined to be a buzzkill, aren’t you?” She sighed loudly. “Tar, I truly am happy for you. I hope you believe me when I say that.”
“I know.”
“Good. Then tell me more about your trip.
I’d much rather talk about that than what’s happening here. Please tell me Ryan is walking around naked.”
I dug through my bag for my power cord adapter,
laughing
at
her enthusiasm.
“Towel.”
“Damn. You suck.”
“Very well, so he says. I just wish we had more time in each city. Two or three days is nothing. I can’t believe it. In less than thirty-six hours we’ll be in Barcelona. Time is flying by so fast.”
“Ooh. Maybe he’ll fuck you in Spanish.
Can you call me while it’s happening? God, I want to hear that. He should put that in his next movie—”
Ryan’s strong hand gripped my hip. “Mon amour,” he said in my mouth. “You are home for me. You’ll always be my home, Taryn.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face in his neck, kissing every inch of him uncontrollably. What started out as a private challenge to make love in every country we visited turned into something profoundly deeper. This was solidifying a union, consummating a promise to each other far beyond the intimate boundaries of physical love.
I said the only words that seemed fitting, but somehow they felt so inadequate. “I love you so much.”
His hips stirred with more vigor; the bed steadily bumped into the wall. The look of painful pleasure creased his eyes. “I love you more.”
I smiled and dug my fingertips into his rear, holding on, wanting him to climb deeper inside of my soul.
His arms wrapped underneath me, lifting me from the warmth of the bed into a warm-er embrace. I straddled up over him; my thighs provided the lift as his hand guided my rear to rock back and forth.
He lay all the way back, helping me adjust my legs. “Take me,” he breathed. “All of me.” His length pummeled inside me. My hands wrapped at the base of his skull, holding his face steady so he’d look me in the eyes.
I sealed my words on his lips. “Till the day I die. Yours. Forever.”
Ryan’s hand locked into my hair, holding my mouth to his. “Come with me, baby,” he
whispered his plea, grinding me down on his pubic bone and the tip of his thumb. He kept at it, at an unrelenting, punishing pace. I felt as though I were being ripped apart and slammed back together all at once.
My head fell to his shoulder as the rolling burn of sensations, the shock-wave overload, coursed through my body.
With a deep groan, his body trembled and convulsed. I felt his warm release pulse inside of me, binding us together forever.
While Ryan was busy shaving in the bathroom, I called Marie. “He proposed to me again—in French.”
“While making love to you?”
“Uh huh.”
“Oh my God, Taryn. That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. Holy shit. Wait until I tell Tammy.”
I moved my cell to my other ear so she could yell excitedly into that one. “No! Please don’t tell anyone, Marie. Not even Tammy.
This is so private. I shouldn’t even be telling . . . I’m just . . . blown away. It was so amazing. I’ve never . . .” Moisture gathered at the corner of my eye again from thinking about it. “Ah. We have to change the subject.
Tell me something else. So how are things going there? How’s our pub?”
“Screw that. I want to hear more about sex in foreign countries.”
“Marie . . . ,” I groaned.
“The bar is still in one piece, Tar. Busy, although you’ll be glad to know that the influx of obsessive fangirls has died down. Oh, and the five- foot cooler is shot. I can’t believe he proposed to you
again in French! God, I really hate you right now. Ryan Freakin’
Christensen, naked in Paris, whispering French I-love-yous in your ear while doing you. Grr. So not fair. Man, why couldn’t I have been the one to open the pub that day?” I snickered lightly. “It wouldn’t have mattered. You’re married, remember?” Marie snorted but not with humor. “Yeah, well. Not for long.”
I grabbed my backpack to get my laptop, wishing I would have kept my big mouth shut. “Oh, Marie, come on. Listen, you know I didn’t call to brag. Did we, um . . . did we get the tax bill in the mail yet? And what did you say about the cooler not working?”
“You are so determined to be a buzzkill, aren’t you?” She sighed loudly. “Tar, I truly am happy for you. I hope you believe me when I say that.”
“I know.”
“Good. Then tell me more about your trip.
I’d much rather talk about that than what’s happening here. Please tell me Ryan is walking around naked.”
I dug through my bag for my power cord adapter,
laughing
at
her enthusiasm.
“Towel.”
“Damn. You suck.”
“Very well, so he says. I just wish we had more time in each city. Two or three days is nothing. I can’t believe it. In less than thirty-six hours we’ll be in Barcelona. Time is flying by so fast.”
“Ooh. Maybe he’ll fuck you in Spanish.
Can you call me while it’s happening? God, I want to hear that. He should put that in his next movie—”
