Love Unrehearsed
Page 48
I stilled his lips with my fingers. “Shh.
Stop.”
His hand brushed down my side, pausing over my stomach. His eyes scrunched closed and he swallowed hard. “You will always be my first priority, Taryn. Always. Just knowing you were hurt today is killing me.” I gazed into his eyes. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. I love you so much.
But . . . I am not going to add any more fuel to this situation by appearing battle-scarred in public. I won’t . . .”
Visions of thousands of cameras chasing down picture evidence of my wounds scorched my mind. “I will not embarrass you that way. I promise. I’ll be here when you get back. No matter what time that is.” He frowned. “I don’t think so. Since you insist that I go to the premiere and I absolutely refuse to leave you behind, I guess we have to compromise. I’ll have a separate car take you so you won’t be visible to the general public. I think you know how this works now.”
I nodded.
“You can skip the more public appearances, but you will be with me every other moment tonight. And that, my love, is nonnegotiable.”
Chapter 8
Recover We had barely parked our luggage in the foy-er of our newly rented condo when Ryan began to peel his clothes off. He pulled his T-shirt up, revealing his muscular body and those glorious washboard abs.
My mouth watered, admiring the poetry in motion stalking me like a hungry predat-or, all chiseled and cut to perfection. No wonder women around the globe practically faint in his presence. He was breathtaking.
And all mine.
With a playful smirk he tossed his shirt to the floor, driving me back into the depths of a dimly lit room. Six days had passed since the Paris debacle but the press was unrelenting. I knew his ego was also smarting since Reparation wasn’t pulling in the box-office sales that his team had hoped for. Ryan, however, continued with the pretense of being unfazed by it all.
“Looks like a nice place,” I said jokingly, unable to tear my eyes away from his heated stare. Everything beyond his smoldering blue eyes seemed to blend into a blur of neutral color.
I took a few steps backward, afraid to drop my guard, bumping into a decorative chair along the way. My backpack slipped off my shoulder and hit the floor.
He nodded once, not caring in the least what the place looked like. “Find the bedroom.”
“Don’t you want to unpack first?”
His gaze was dark and full of lust. “No.
Sex first. You have five seconds to get naked or I will rip those clothes right off of you.” My pulse spiked. “Someone a bit anxious?”
He returned with a salacious smile. “You started this.”
“Uh-uh. You were the one bragging. Think you can best your five orgasms? Not that I doubt your mad skills or anything.”
“Oh, do I have plans for that mouth of yours.” He continued his prowl, stripping his socks with each step. “Three seconds. Lose the clothes, Tar. Now. Or do you want me to leave red fingerprints on your ass?”
“You wouldn’t . . .”
The devil in his glare said oh hell yeah, I would.
“Want to find out?” He prowled, closing the gap. His admonishing tone heated my skin. “You might like it.”
I only managed to get one shoe off while removing my shirt, backing up with every step. My retreat was halted by the couch.
“That’s a good place to start.” Ryan grabbed the front of my jeans and yanked me forward.
“You’re
so
adorable
when
you’re
flustered,” he murmured, drifting his fingertips down my cheek, softly, reverently. “Let me be the first to welcome you to Vancouver.” He opened my belt, slowly pulling each inch of the leather free from their loops.
“We’re gonna have to perform a cavity search, though. Make sure you didn’t smuggle anything into Canada. I’m going to keep this item in case you need restraining.” He tucked my belt into the back pocket of his jeans.
My heated pulse jumped another degree.
Zipper down, his hands slid over my rear, fingers curving right into where I burned the most.
He had been toying with me the entire flight, innocently brushing fingertips over my chest, whispering in my ear all the things he was planning on doing to me. Torturing me into this frenzied state.
His mouth locked on mine, kissing me in-to oblivion. Nimble fingers unlatched my bra while I shoved his jeans down on his hips, clutching his arousal firmly.
“Enough foreplay. I need to be inside you—now,” he groaned in my mouth.
Stop.”
His hand brushed down my side, pausing over my stomach. His eyes scrunched closed and he swallowed hard. “You will always be my first priority, Taryn. Always. Just knowing you were hurt today is killing me.” I gazed into his eyes. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. I love you so much.
But . . . I am not going to add any more fuel to this situation by appearing battle-scarred in public. I won’t . . .”
Visions of thousands of cameras chasing down picture evidence of my wounds scorched my mind. “I will not embarrass you that way. I promise. I’ll be here when you get back. No matter what time that is.” He frowned. “I don’t think so. Since you insist that I go to the premiere and I absolutely refuse to leave you behind, I guess we have to compromise. I’ll have a separate car take you so you won’t be visible to the general public. I think you know how this works now.”
I nodded.
“You can skip the more public appearances, but you will be with me every other moment tonight. And that, my love, is nonnegotiable.”
Chapter 8
Recover We had barely parked our luggage in the foy-er of our newly rented condo when Ryan began to peel his clothes off. He pulled his T-shirt up, revealing his muscular body and those glorious washboard abs.
My mouth watered, admiring the poetry in motion stalking me like a hungry predat-or, all chiseled and cut to perfection. No wonder women around the globe practically faint in his presence. He was breathtaking.
And all mine.
With a playful smirk he tossed his shirt to the floor, driving me back into the depths of a dimly lit room. Six days had passed since the Paris debacle but the press was unrelenting. I knew his ego was also smarting since Reparation wasn’t pulling in the box-office sales that his team had hoped for. Ryan, however, continued with the pretense of being unfazed by it all.
“Looks like a nice place,” I said jokingly, unable to tear my eyes away from his heated stare. Everything beyond his smoldering blue eyes seemed to blend into a blur of neutral color.
I took a few steps backward, afraid to drop my guard, bumping into a decorative chair along the way. My backpack slipped off my shoulder and hit the floor.
He nodded once, not caring in the least what the place looked like. “Find the bedroom.”
“Don’t you want to unpack first?”
His gaze was dark and full of lust. “No.
Sex first. You have five seconds to get naked or I will rip those clothes right off of you.” My pulse spiked. “Someone a bit anxious?”
He returned with a salacious smile. “You started this.”
“Uh-uh. You were the one bragging. Think you can best your five orgasms? Not that I doubt your mad skills or anything.”
“Oh, do I have plans for that mouth of yours.” He continued his prowl, stripping his socks with each step. “Three seconds. Lose the clothes, Tar. Now. Or do you want me to leave red fingerprints on your ass?”
“You wouldn’t . . .”
The devil in his glare said oh hell yeah, I would.
“Want to find out?” He prowled, closing the gap. His admonishing tone heated my skin. “You might like it.”
I only managed to get one shoe off while removing my shirt, backing up with every step. My retreat was halted by the couch.
“That’s a good place to start.” Ryan grabbed the front of my jeans and yanked me forward.
“You’re
so
adorable
when
you’re
flustered,” he murmured, drifting his fingertips down my cheek, softly, reverently. “Let me be the first to welcome you to Vancouver.” He opened my belt, slowly pulling each inch of the leather free from their loops.
“We’re gonna have to perform a cavity search, though. Make sure you didn’t smuggle anything into Canada. I’m going to keep this item in case you need restraining.” He tucked my belt into the back pocket of his jeans.
My heated pulse jumped another degree.
Zipper down, his hands slid over my rear, fingers curving right into where I burned the most.
He had been toying with me the entire flight, innocently brushing fingertips over my chest, whispering in my ear all the things he was planning on doing to me. Torturing me into this frenzied state.
His mouth locked on mine, kissing me in-to oblivion. Nimble fingers unlatched my bra while I shoved his jeans down on his hips, clutching his arousal firmly.
“Enough foreplay. I need to be inside you—now,” he groaned in my mouth.
