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Authors: Jeanette Grey

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BOOK: Eight Ways to Ecstasy
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“Kate,” he murmured, pressing up, body awakening. She eased down, and the center of her brushed where he was already half-hard. A low groan forced its way out of his lungs, and he flipped them, getting her on his back for him, there on that bed he'd always hated, in this house that hadn't felt like home in so long. Her cheeks were flushed, lips bitten, and he danced his fingertips toward her breast—

When the doorbell sounded from downstairs.

“Fuck.” He dropped his face into the mattress beside her head. “That'll be the movers.”

“Maybe if we ignore them, they'll go away?”

“Maybe.” Lifting himself off her, he let out a frustrated sigh. “But then I'd just have to hire them again for another day.”

And he could work with that. A whole day with nothing to do, and with Kate here beneath him…It was beyond tempting.

He rolled to the side, breathing to the count of three before sitting up straight.

No way was he bunking down in his sister's spare room for another night. He was making himself the home he'd come to New York to reclaim. Kate was going to help him make it, along with his sister and his friends.

He gazed back at her, at the smooth skin of her stomach, the rosy hue working its way up her neck. The soft, warm brown of her eyes.

Smoothing her shirt back into place, he leaned in for one last kiss.

Tonight, he'd have her in his own bed. In his own home.

Even he could be patient enough to wait for that.

  

Rylan Bellamy was the worst kind of tease there ever was. Kate's pulse was racing from the heat of his kiss and the weight of his body, and her arousal wasn't the only thing he'd piqued.

There was also the small matter of her curiosity.

Setting herself to rights the best she could, she followed him back down the stairs to the foyer of his…his
mansion
. The place where he'd grown up. God, and she'd thought the brownstone he'd decided to buy was excessive. Here was this place that was bigger than her entire apartment building, and it had all been for one family. Back when it had even been occupied at all.

Apparently they didn't have any more time to poke around as they descended than they had on the ascent, and sure, there were people waiting for them downstairs. But who invited their girlfriend to a place like this without at least giving her the tour? At every flight of stairs, she gazed longingly down the empty corridors. What lay behind those doors? What had this place been like back in its prime?

What had Rylan been like? A child surrounded by this kind of extravagance.

A teenager coming home after months at school to find all of his possessions cleared away.

Her heart clenched hard at the thought. She couldn't even imagine it. She'd scarcely been home in years, but she still had a room in her mother's tiny apartment. Her ancient teddy bears and books might be sharing space with an elliptical machine these days, but they were there. She would always be welcome back.

Then again…

She shivered as she hit the third floor landing and kept on climbing down.

Her father's house had never felt like a home. She'd had her own room and her own things, but there'd been a perilousness to it all. When her dad got angry, everything was fair game. Figurines smashed and pages torn. The door that hadn't had a lock.

Maybe some things transcended how nice of a house you got to live in. Maybe some people had to leave to find anything that was truly their own.

Rylan had outpaced her by a wider and wider margin as they'd made their way toward the first floor. She turned the landing for the final flight expecting him to already be at the door, but instead, he'd pulled up short. He waited for her at the base of the stairs, one hand on the banister while he extended the other one toward her. She slowed, coming to a halt on the next-to-last step. It put them on more even ground with her above him like this, and she met his smile with her own, letting him pull her down into a soft, sweet kiss. The angle was all different like this, and she fell into it. Fell into him.

He pulled away after a long minute, his hand lingering on the back of her neck to steady her. She blinked her eyes open to look at him.

And there was a flicker of something in his gaze. Something naked and open to him that made her tremble.

“Thank you,” he said, voice low. “For doing this with me.”

It resonated deep in the shaking part inside of her.

Like he wasn't thanking just anyone, like he hadn't simply wanted to not have to do it alone. Like he'd needed
her
.

Her throat went tight with the closeness of their bodies. The whisper of his breath across her lips. “Any time.”

And a piece of her really meant it.

He let her go after that, retreating to the door just as the chime rang out a final time.

In the end, the crew he'd hired was made up of six big men in white uniforms. Rylan shook hands with them all in turn and nodded his head toward her, introducing her to them as well. Then he led them down a different corridor, past a series of rooms each bigger and grander than the last. The furniture was draped just as it had been upstairs, but a dining table large enough for a state dinner was hard to miss. A chandelier in what must have been a ballroom that could have been in
The Phantom of the Opera
.

It's just a house
, he'd told her when she'd questioned him outside. Considering the casualness with which he swept through it, to him it really had been.

The corridor took a sharp turn after the ballroom. At the end of the next hall, Rylan reached out and opened a door. “This is the loading dock.” He explained to one of the men where to pull the truck around, then turned.

When Kate realized what she was looking at, she gawked. “There was an elevator here the whole time?”

Rylan smirked. “Says the girl in the three-story walk-up. I thought you liked taking the stairs.”

Without even thinking, she reached out and play-smacked his arm, only to have him catch her wrist. Entwining their hands, he dragged her into the elevator with him, standing way too close to her, considering the movers crowded in around them, all pointedly averting their eyes. Giving them room.

“Don't worry.” Rylan leaned in close. “They've seen much worse.”

It didn't really make her feel better.

The elevator dumped them out in the biggest, most cavernous attic she'd ever imagined, much less been in. The place was filled to the brim with boxes and crates. Statues and furniture. Paintings even, probably worth fortunes. It was practically a Room of Requirement, for goodness' sake.

“What is all this stuff?” she whispered.

He apparently felt no compunction to keep his voice down. “Fuck if I know.”

He took them over to a corner of the space, where a stack of crates sat all by itself. He gestured at it expansively. “This is it.”

While the men set to work, Rylan took Kate over to a spot a little ways down the row. He picked out a box and blew the dust from its top before sitting down and inviting her to join him. Together, they looked on as the guys figured out their dollies and started getting things loaded up.

She shook her head. “Well, this is the easiest move I've ever ‘helped' with.”

Rylan smiled. “I can get you a cart if you'd like to pitch in.”

“Nah.” She nudged him with her hip. “Really, though, you have no idea what any of this stuff is?”

He pointed at the section he'd set the movers on. “I know that
that
is the previous contents of my condo.”

“And the rest of it?”

“Family detritus,” he said with a shrug. “Most of it's always been here. The rest…” He trailed off, looking over his shoulder toward the center of the room. “Some of it's probably my mother's. I'm sure there's stuff of mine and Lexie's and Evan's, too. Just never seemed worth going through.”

A heaviness weighed down his words, making it sound like it was less about the things themselves and more about the memories.

And she could understand that, at least. If she'd had to go to her father's house—if she'd had to sort through the minefield he'd left of her head, much less an attic the size of a literal field…She didn't know if she could do it, either.

That said…“The curiosity would be killing me, if this were mine.”

For just a second, the strangest smile passed over his face. But it was there and gone in an instant, and then he was putting his hand over hers. “You're welcome to poke around anytime you want.”

She swallowed past the sudden lump in the back of her throat. It was access, and to way more than just a home.

Leaning her head against his shoulder, she squeezed his hand. “I'd like that.”

The movers were about a quarter of the way through unloading the truck by the time the rest of Rylan's people started showing up. He was in the front room, directing traffic, when the sound of a particularly familiar purring engine caught his ear. He glanced up from a crate of old business school textbooks to see the bright red of Chase's Bentley pulling in to double-park outside his new house. Grinning despite himself, he rose to his feet and instructed that the box be taken to his study, then called over his shoulder, “Kate?”

She'd set herself to unpacking his kitchen, finding places for all the pots and pans and gadgets he barely knew how to use. She emerged around the corner into the front room with the pitcher portion of a blender still in her hands. He gestured with his head toward the big picture window looking out onto the street. “Company's here.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders stiffened as she followed his gaze. “Right.” She disappeared again, returning seconds later without the pitcher, hands smoothing back the stray strands of hair that had escaped from her braid.

The corner of his mouth twitched up at the nervousness in her limbs, the way she gnawed at her lip and made these little, vague efforts at sorting out her appearance. “They're going to love you.”

How could they not? If they saw even a fraction of what he did…

Well. Then he'd be fighting them off with a stick, so hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

Rylan directed Chase down an alleyway so he could park Betty in the tiny garage out back. Now he had a place to put them, Rylan would have to get one of his cars out of storage, too. One of the sporty ones, since apparently Kate had a thing for that.

He couldn't keep the smile off his face, remembering how they'd desecrated Chase's backseat. Or the way Chase had narrowed his eyes at him when he'd returned the thing.

With his arm wrapped securely around Kate's waist, they waited on the front steps for everyone to make their way around. Along with Chase, there were a couple of their other buddies from prep school, who he'd been more or less expecting. Rylan tilted his head in surprise, though, to see Sophie bringing up the rear.

“Well, look who's back in town,” he said with a grin.

Sophie rolled her eyes at him. “I could say the same.”

She'd been a childhood friend of Chase's, and after prep school, she'd by default become one of Rylan's as well. Before Rylan had taken off, she'd been gone for a year at least, saving babies in Nepal or filming a documentary on abuse in China. Or maybe nursing abandoned bonobos in Brazil, for all he knew. He never could keep her projects straight.

“It's good to see you.” He let go of Kate just long enough to give Soph a quick hug before stepping back and taking Kate's hand. “This is Kate.”

“Oh, is it now?” Chase, the asshole, cocked a brow, and Rylan instantly regretted ever telling him anything, ever.

Shooting him a look that said
behave
, he introduced each of them. They all stood around for a long minute sizing each other up.

Before it could get too awkward, though, Chase swept his arm out toward the brownstone. “So this is your new place.”

“Yeah.” With a mover making his way up the walk, another box balanced in his arms, Rylan beckoned everyone inside, to get them out of the way if nothing else. “You want the tour?”

“Absolutely.”

The house already looked less empty, even with just a handful of boxes strewn about the place. He showed them the first couple of floors, pointing out the rooms he'd chosen to serve as the master bedroom and his office.

“Who're you getting to do the place?” Chase asked, poking his nose in one of the closets.

Rylan shrugged. “Might see what I can do with it myself.”

Chase spun around, forehead furrowed. “You?”

“Well.” And he hadn't asked about this, but he pulled Kate in against his side. “I'm hoping I might be able to get some help picking things out.”

It was Kate's turn to act surprised. “Me?”

“I like what you did with your place.”

She looked away, casting uncertain glances at his friends and at the bare walls all around them. “I don't think you want your place filled up with flea market stuff.”

Well, no. The idea kind of made his skin itch, actually. But that wasn't the important part.

“I want it to look…homey.”

He wanted it to feel like a home. To both of them.

  

It was funny—Rylan hadn't told Kate much about his sister. He hadn't even shown her a picture. All he'd really said was that she was an overachiever and a workaholic and a force of nature.

And Kate recognized her for exactly who she was the second she blew through the door.

“Teddy!” she called, not even bothering to knock. She had a tiny pink purse hanging off her arm and a phone in her hand, her dark hair falling in graceful waves around her shoulders. While none of Rylan's friends had come dressed for a hard day of work the way Kate had, this woman put them all to shame in a flowing top and perfectly tailored jeans, topped with heeled boots that looked straight off the runway.

But what Kate got stuck on was her face. She had Rylan's eyes and Rylan's nose, and this set to her shoulders. Kate had only seen it on Rylan a handful of times, when he was putting particular effort into projecting authority—say scaring off a male friend of hers he saw as a threat. While this woman…Well, this woman looked like she walked around like that all the time.

Behind her was a man with a chauffeur's cap juggling three pizza boxes, two white paper bags, and a case of beer.

Lexie stopped in the middle of the front room, causing the man behind her to come up short.

Kate, who'd been going through a box of books, leapt to help. “Here,” she said, reaching to take the beer. “That all can go in the kitchen.”

Lexie whirled around, gaze landing immediately on Kate. It lingered there, making its slow way up and down, until Kate's stomach squirmed. At least she knew what her frog had felt like back in high school biology class now.

But she refused to be daunted. “Hi.” She would've held out a hand, but the case of beer was heavy enough gripped with two. “I'm—”

“The girl.” One corner of Lexie's mouth curled up. “Oh, this should be fun.”

Kate's mouth dropped open, but the thing about it was that she sounded like she meant it. Possibly in a brother-torturing way, but with sincerity all the same.

Lexie tilted her head back and to the side, calling again, “Oh, Teddy…”

Rylan came hurtling down the stairs a bare second later, eyes narrowed, but his attempt at a scowl was all for show. “Uh-uh, Lex. My house, my nicknames.”

“Your
house
indeed.” Lexie swept her arm around as if to encompass the entire place. “What, the old condo was too cramped for you? Feeling domestic in your old age?”

She shot a glance at Kate that made her cheeks heat, but Rylan ignored it.

“Hilarious.” He made as if to ruffle Lexie's perfect hair, only to be batted away. Letting himself be shooed, he swooped in on Kate, taking the beer from her with one hand. “I see you've met Kate?”

“We were just having the pleasure.” Lexie pointed at herself. “Lexie. The prettiest sibling.”

“Oh, I don't know about that,” said Chase, appearing from around the corner. “Your brother is pretty.” He took the boxes of pizza from the poor, apparently long-suffering driver. “Did you get anchovies?”

“Half of one, just for you.”

“You're a doll.” He kissed Lexie on the cheek as he passed her. “Come on. Kate and Soph already got his kitchen put together.”

More or less. They'd spent the better part of the afternoon at it. It'd been…nice. Surreal, but nice.

It got even more surreal as they all piled in around the big dining room table. One of the bags Lexie had arrived with contained paper plates and napkins, as well as a couple of plastic boxes filled with salads, which Lexie and Sophie both dug into while the boys set into the pizzas as if they'd never have another meal.

After dishing a little of each onto her own plate, Kate took the empty seat to Rylan's left, and he slipped a hand onto her knee, looking at her with a question on his brow. She nodded to tell him she was fine. Picking up her fork, she settled in to watch the show.

In so many ways, it was exactly like any other moving day she'd participated in with her friends back in undergrad. The pizza and the beer, especially, were much, much better than she was used to, the setting nicer by leagues. But it was a bunch of people who were comfortable around one another, taking a break from unpacking boxes to share a meal.

There were all the little things she'd learned to notice since hooking up with Rylan, though. No matter what they were doing today, the guys wore expensive watches and sweaters and jeans that were just a little too nice. Sophie was more casually dressed than Lexie, but with her long, silky blond hair and ivory skin, she looked like some sort of wood nymph come to life.

Kate sat back, content to observe for a while as conversation seemed to circle with a sort of inevitability toward work. Talk of money and mergers and clients and boards that left Kate dizzy.

Through it all, Rylan kept a hand on her, touching idly at her knee or letting his arm drape across the back of her chair. It was grounding, made her feel less like she could just float away and disappear altogether from the cozy company of these beautiful people in this beautiful home. Into the woodwork.

Into the voice in the back of her head that kept insisting she didn't belong here at all.

Sophie was the one to speak up, though. To turn to Kate during a pause in conversation. “Sorry, these guys tend to get carried away.”

“It's not a problem,” Kate said.

“It kind of is,” Chase said from across the table. “Half of how this lug”—he pointed at Rylan—“got us to show up and do all this manual labor was the chance to meet his new girl.”

Just like that, all the eyes on the place were on Kate. She shifted in her chair and put her slice of pizza down. “Oh. Um.”

“Yeah,” Lexie chimed in. “It's not every day we get to meet a new lady in Rylan's life.”

“Guys.” A note of warning colored Rylan's tone.

Chase waved him off. “
Shh.
Let her talk.” He focused in on her. “Tell us all about yourself.”

The sensation of being pinned down to a dissection tray reasserted itself with force, in the way Chase was regarding her particularly. He'd been shooting her these sorts of glances all afternoon, curious and suspicious in turn. Like maybe he knew more about her and Rylan than he was letting on. Like maybe he didn't approve.

And that was fine. Just because Kate hadn't felt comfortable confiding in anyone about her love life right now didn't mean Rylan shouldn't be able to. She was glad he had someone in his corner.

But it didn't exactly set her nerves at ease.

Shrugging, she took a sip of her beer. “There's not a whole lot to tell.” Forcing herself to keep her gaze even, she gave them the CliffsNotes version of her life. Midwestern mom and out-of-the-picture dad. Degree in painting and her current work on her MFA.

They listened on with varying levels of interest, and if she had the vague impression of being a sociological experiment, at least that was an upgrade from an amphibian with its guts on display.

Winding down, she tilted her head to the side. “So. You know. Basically just your ordinary girl.”

Rylan's hand on her knee tightened.

She looked up, meeting his eyes, and the fire that lit them ignited a low, warm glow inside of her. Too fervently, too quietly for that space, he said, “You are anything but ordinary.”

Just like that, it was as if the rest of the room receded, fading off into the background until it was only the two of them and the swimming way he made her feel, telling her these things. Making her want so badly to believe them, until bit by bit, no matter how many times she'd told herself she wouldn't, she found herself beginning to.

The sound of a throat clearing had her shaking it off. She turned toward the table and directed her gaze down at her plate. Her whole face went warm.

But she was done being the demurring flower. She took another drink, then set the bottle down. “Well, part of him getting me to show up was the promise of meeting all of you. So, why don't you tell me…” She bit down on her smile, then pointed at Rylan. “…about him?”

Beside her Rylan groaned, and noises of excitement went up around the table. Rylan lifted his hand from her leg to wrap it warmly around the back of her neck, giving a quick squeeze there that was all affection and approval.

“You're going to wish you never asked,” Chase said, before launching into a story about some of their more youthful pursuits. Kate grinned the whole while, through that story and into the next. It was all new information, and she listened avidly.

Yet for all that these were tales she hadn't heard before, she recognized the main character. Rylan as a young, rich man with something to prove, getting himself into trouble with his best friend. It wasn't completely easy to hear about the part girls played in some of their exploits, but Rylan had never pretended not to have had his share of conquests. Considering the way Kate had met him, it wasn't even the tiniest bit out of character, and if Chase gave her an appraising gaze through some of the more colorful bits, she met him full-on.

The others added commentary and detail for the episodes they'd been present for. Rylan sat back, looking like he wanted to be annoyed but couldn't quite bring himself to be.

Then Chase trailed off, and Lexie, mostly quiet until then, spoke up. Rylan shifted, stiffening slightly with his hand against Kate's nape.

BOOK: Eight Ways to Ecstasy
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