Outcast (Supernaturals Book 2) (8 page)

Taking advantage of my sudden need to show these people that they weren’t bothering me, I let him convince me to eat all my food plus a few bites of his, which he fed me, and it was all kinds of hot.

After an hour or so of sporadic conversation with Ryan, I was ready to get out of the heat. We had made fun of how some of the people were dancing and even some of the gaudy outfits certain people wore. He asked me about my job, and if I liked living in Washington. I told him I did, though I hated being so far away from my family and childhood friends. I asked about his job. He seemed to like working at his father’s investment firm, but I could tell that he had something else he would rather be doing, but didn’t seem inclined to tell me what that something was.

During the last lull in our conversation, I decided I would head back to my room. I had enjoyed spending time with him, getting to know him. For the most part, things between us were easy, but I could tell he was hiding something from me. He was holding a part of himself back, which was fine. It wasn’t as if we were dating or were thinking about dating.

Ready for the day to be over, I rose, thanked him for all he had done for me that weekend, and started to leave.

“You can’t go now, you’ll miss the bouquet and all of the dancing,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder to stop me. Every time our flesh met, something passed between us, a hum, a surge of emotion, an electric spark. I didn’t know what it was, but it was powerful. It made every inch of my body aware of him, made me ache for him.

“I think I’ve stayed long enough.” We had only been interrupted once, and that had been by Danielle’s mother-in-law who had politely told me that I was not allowed to get in line to catch the bouquet. Her daughter had to be the one to catch it. I smiled brightly and informed the woman that I hadn’t intended on going for the bouquet, but since it would bother her, I would make sure I did.

Ryan had laughed heartily at my words. The woman had scowled and walked away.

“That felt good,” I said, slouching back in my seat, feeling very proud of myself.

“I bet it did.” Our eyes had met, and I had felt him lean closer to me, but I had pulled back, not wanting to cause that much of a scene or to look like a fool if he hadn’t been about to do what I thought he was about to do. The silence hadn’t lasted long after that incident, as we both wanted a distraction.

He eyed me suspiciously when I told him I was leaving, then said, “All right. I’ll walk you back to the hotel.”

“Oh, no. You have to stay. Dave would never forgive me if you weren’t here for him to ping you in the head with the garter.” He smiled at my words and nodded his head to say that he would never live it down if he left.

Before he could say more, though, I said, “Look, it isn’t a big deal. The walk alone isn’t going to hurt me.” I wanted to tell him that I wanted to use the time to brood over everything, then force it from my mind. I had two more days in my vacation, and then I would go back home and have nothing more to do with these people. Since baring my soul to a man I hardly knew wasn’t something I wanted to do, I said, “Thank you again for bringing me my plate. It was kind of you. Now, I’ve taken up enough of your time. You should go and enjoy the party.”

For the third time, I made to walk away. Again, he grabbed my arm. His grip wasn’t bruising, but I felt the command in his fingers. The feel of his flesh on mine made me flush and wish he would put those hands on other parts of my body.

“This isn’t right,” I heard him mutter.

Embarrassed that he had read the need in my eyes, I shook him off and said, “I’m sorry,” in a low voice.

“They shouldn’t treat you this way.”

“I’m fine. Everything is fine. I’m not leaving because of them. I’m tired, and I’m hot. I want to get out of these shoes, take a long shower, and then an even longer nap.”

“It isn’t right,” he said again. I followed his gaze to see that he was glaring at my mother and my sister’s mother-in-law who were watching us with disapproval.

When he started to walk past me to them, I grabbed his arm. I fought every need inside me that urged me to run my hand up and down his arm as I did so. “Don’t cause a scene. This is my sister’s day. I will not ruin it in any way. I’ve made my stand against them. I don’t need to say anything else. I’m done with them all now any way.” I hadn’t meant to say the last part to anyone, but it was true.

After all that I had been through over the last year with the planning of this wedding, I was done with my family. I had never truly belonged with them, and now that I had seen my sister marry, I was ready to walk away.

“What does that mean?” he asked, turning his back to the two women.

“Nothing for you to worry about. Thank you for caring, but there’s no need for you to defend me or stir up trouble. I’m all but a faded memory to them. Now I’m leaving. Enjoy the party.”

I could feel his stare boring into my back as I walked away. Tears burned my eyes, but I forced them back until I was out of sight of the gardens. Ryan’s concern, his anger on my behalf had been surprising.

My ex wouldn’t have stood up for me that way. Every time I had come home from a visit with my family upset by something that they said, he had consoled me until I had calmed down, then he had said, “Leigh, you know I love you, but they aren’t wrong. You are a little heavier than you should be. If you only lost a few more pounds, they would shut up, and you would be happier and healthier.”

He wasn’t wrong, but they weren’t the words I had wanted to hear right then. I needed him to be on my side. To be angry at them with me. We had been together for two years. He had seen me struggle with my weight. He had gone to the gym with me, had tried fad diets with me, so he knew I tried, and I had lost some weight, and surprisingly I had been able to maintain the weight loss, but I was still too big for my family and for Saul, my ex- boyfriend.

My being single was another issue my family seemed to have with me. In their eyes, at my age, I should have already been married and had a few kids. “Twenty-eight is too old to be living alone,” I had overheard my mother say to my father many times.

The tears fell silently as I walked back to the hotel. The occasional person would glance curiously at me, but I didn’t make eye contact with anyone as I entered the lobby, walked past the clerk who had checked me in and the bell hop who had helped me carry in my bags—both gave me sad, apologetic looks—and went to my room.

Inside, I stripped, showered, cranked the AC up to full blast, and crawled into bed wrapped tightly in my robe with a towel around my head. I was on vacation, damn it. I could nap in the middle of the day if I wanted.

Chapter 10 ~ Room Service

~~~ Leigh~~~

Four hours later, I woke to the sound of someone knocking on my hotel room door. Grumbling curses at the person who would dare interrupt the steamy dream I was having about Ryan, I crawled out of bed, slung the towel that had fallen off my head over a chair to dry, straightened my robe, and went to see who it was.

I paused before opening the door in an attempt to compose myself and calm my nerves. Most likely Dave’s mother or someone equally as annoying had come to berate me some more. Sighing loudly, I reached for the handle and pulled the heavy wood door open just far enough for me to stick my head out to see who it was. A well-groomed woman stood behind a rolling cart piled high with food, waiting for me to open the door wider. I stared at her in complete confusion.

The woman stared back for a long moment, then said unsurely, “Room service?”

Shaking my head, I said, “Nope, sorry. I didn’t order anything. Someone must have given you the wrong room number.”

The woman looked down at the note in her hand, then up to the number on the door. She shook her head and reached for her cell phone to presumably call the kitchen. At the same time, she started slowly backing away from my room. Watching the mountain of food move further down the hall away from me, leaving behind the most succulent of aromas, I thought seriously about stopping her and taking the food anyway, then the image of myself stuffing my face to the point of making myself sick in an attempt to soothe the anger and sadness that was burrowing a hole in me angered me and I started to slam the door shut.

“Wait. Sorry,” a male voice called from the other end of the hall. Both the woman and I turned to see a hunk of a man walking quickly toward us. I recognized him at once as Ryan.

“What the hell is he doing here?” I asked no one in particular.

Heat flooded me, as his ruggedly handsome face grew closer. His short, wavy, dark brown hair looked rumpled as if he had rushed to get here. My hands itched to run through those waves. Visions of me gripping his hair tight as he feasted between my legs blurred my vision, and I had to jerk my gaze from him before I came right there in the hall in front of him and the hotel employee. Suddenly the room was too hot, the thick, fleece robe smothering. I had to cool off.

I stepped back into my room as the woman said, “Is this your food, sir? I’m sorry. The kitchen gave me the wrong room number.”

“It’s my food, and this is the right room. The food was supposed to be a surprise for her. I had hoped to meet you here before she saw it, but I got held up,” he said, nodding to me. I was too busy trying to fan myself and turn the AC up a little to pay him much attention.

“Thank you,” he said to the woman and handed her a tip before taking the cart from her.

She looked between him and me, and I could see the confusion in her eyes. The look on her face said that she couldn’t believe that he could possibly be attracted to me, and she was right. He wasn’t. He was only being friendly. Her expression changed as if she suddenly decided that he and I were relatives, cousins probably, because there was no way we were dating. Resisting the urge to snap at her or confirm her thoughts, I stepped out of her line of sight as Ryan pushed the cart into the room and shut the door.

He looked me up and down, taking in my messy, damp hair and robe. For a brief instant, I thought I saw lust darken his eyes, but then he said, “Good, you don’t look as if you have dinner plans.”

Rankled by the fact that he had assumed I wouldn’t have plans, I started to tell him that I did, in fact, have somewhere to be and that he should leave, but the smell of the food made my stomach beg me to shut up. I mentally snapped at my stomach to shut the hell up. My pride didn’t want to admit to this gorgeous man that I didn’t have anything to do that night. I didn’t want to further cast myself into the undesirable role, even though I chose to spend the night alone in the hotel.

I was only an outcast amongst my family. I had friends in town. I just hadn’t made plans with any of them because I hadn’t wanted to listen to them complain about how horrible my family treated me. I loved my friends and how much they loved me, but my family was my family, and this weekend wasn’t the weekend for lectures, so I made excuses, stating that I was tied up with family all weekend, but I would come back in a few months for another visit. 

“No, I don’t. I was planning for a quiet night in,” I finally said, deciding I didn’t have to justify myself to anyone.

“Good. I brought food…obviously. We can have that quiet night together.”

The smug, satisfied look on his face made me want to kick him in the shins or, worse, kick him out of my room, but he was so lickable and the food smelled so good. “Fine. Whatever. I’m going to change.”

“Don’t on my account.”

“Oh, I’m not dressing up. I’m only getting out of this robe. It’s hot.” Before he could comment further, I disappeared into the bathroom with a handful of clothes.

When I came out, he had laid our plates out on the room’s small, round table and uncovered the platters. I paused halfway to the table at the sight of all the food. Panicking, I searched frantically for salad and fruit, the only two items I thought I would allow myself to eat in front of the man. I wondered why I did that. Anyone who looked at me would know I didn’t live on salads and fruit even though I did honestly try to eat very little aside from them in the hopes of losing more weight—and because a properly made salad could be divine.

“Come on. Take a seat. I won’t bite,” he said, motioning to the chair closest to me. The look in his eyes and the lecherous grin on his face said otherwise. It also said that I would love every minute of it. My lower stomach quivered at that look. I bit my bottom lip in anticipation of the bite. When his nostrils flared and his eyes darkened as if he could smell my arousal, I jerked my gaze away from his, but instead of looking away from him, the traitors went to his crotch where his erection was all kinds of impressive through his slacks. My body clinched in need for the thing, and I had to force myself to turn to the table. I moved to my seat on shaky legs.

I could feel his presence, feel his desire, but he made no move to touch me.

“I wasn’t sure what you preferred,” he said, and his voice sounded rough, strained. “So I ordered a variety of things. No, I didn’t get any rabbit food. That stuff isn’t filling, and besides, you’ve already had the recommended serving for the day. You need protein. Something hearty…satisfying. Please, God, tell me you aren’t a vegan or vegetarian,” he said, watching me scan the food.

I laughed. “I’m not. I’m just not sure what I want first. I take it you aren’t into carbs,” I said, taking in the absence of pasta, potatoes, rice, and bread.

“Oh, no. I love carbs, I just thought I would save that for dessert.” He motioned for me to lift the lid on the only platter on the second shelf of the cart. German chocolate cake. I could kiss the man. My mouth watered at the sight of it. Good lord, I felt my stomach expanding simply looking at it. I wasn’t eating that thing in front of him, but he sure as hell wasn’t leaving here with the entire thing.

“Should I leave the two of you alone,” he said, but the husky tone of his voice belied his jovial words.

“Not right now, but later,” I said, turning back to the slightly healthier food. I was too embarrassed to look at him, so I ladled out a large spoon full of green beans, then okra, onto my plate. Next, I chose the grilled chicken and portabella mushrooms with a creamy cheese sauce.

I didn’t start eating right away. I waited until he had handed me a glass of wine and piled his plate with steak, creamed corn, and grilled asparagus. He nodded to me, then dug into his meal. I watched in awe at the food he was able to put away. I wanted his metabolism.

For fear of wearing my food instead of eating it as I usually did when I was both nervous and hungry, I took a small bite of my food and ate slowly. Every once in a while, he would look up at me and shake his head.

Eventually I cleaned my plate and leaned back into my chair with a sigh of contentment. “That was delicious, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, before taking one last bite of his third steak. I looked around my cluttered hotel room while he chewed…unsure as to what I should say next. Would he eat and run? Did he have something specific he needed to talk about and the food was a way of softening the blow of his words?

“What do I owe you on the bill?” I asked, praying it wouldn’t be a lot. I knew I was looking at over a hundred dollars’ worth of food since it came from the hotel kitchen.

“Nothing,” he said, picking up his napkin and wiping his mouth.

“Seriously. I can’t let you pay for all of this.”

“I didn’t.”

“What?”

He chuckled, then said, “I said, I didn’t pay for it. I had the hotel put the food on my room’s tab, but deliver it here. Your father or Dave’s father will be paying for it. They told us to order what we wanted.”

“Surely they didn’t mean this.”

“They probably didn’t, but their pride will keep them from saying a word about it.”

I laughed. Both men would be furious and even more so if they found out he shared the meal with me. Shaking my head, I started cleaning up our mess. Ryan helped me stack the dirty, empty dishes on the cart. What remained of the food, Ryan put in the tiny refrigerator in my small kitchen. When I asked him why, he said, “For later.”

He put the chocolate cake on the counter, then pushed the cart toward the door. Thankful he left the cake for me to drown my sorrows in later tonight, I watched him open the door, wishing he wouldn’t leave. Unable to say a word, I turned my back to him and began picking up the room and wondering what I would do the rest of the night. There was a new paranormal romance I wanted to start, but I was already horny and not in the mood to masturbate. I wanted the real thing or nothing. Okay, so chances were, I would rub one out before going to sleep, but I didn’t want to make my ache any worse.

My back stiffened at the sound of the door closing behind me, but I didn’t stop what I was doing. As much as I didn’t want him to leave, nothing good could come of him staying. If anyone saw him with me, they would talk, and the last thing he needed was for people to think we were together or that we hooked up.

“Would you like another glass of wine?” a voice behind me asked, and I spun around to see Ryan standing beside the small table watching me quizzically and holding out a glass of Merlot.

“What… I… Yes,” I said, unsure of what to make of his presence.

“You look confused,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I answered, taking the glass from him. “You startled me, that’s all.”

“Why did I startle you?” He stepped around me and went to the short sofa at the other end of the room.

I followed him, saying, “I thought you had left, so when you spoke, you surprised me.”

“Why did you think I left?”

“Well, you walked out of my room.”

“I did, but only far enough to push the cart into the hall. I didn’t say I was leaving, did I?”

“No, but the food’s nearly gone, so what else would you be staying for?” I didn’t want him to answer that question, not truthfully anyway. I wanted him to lie to me…to tell me he was staying for me…that he wanted me, not that he was staying because my sister didn’t want me to be alone or that she thought I needed someone to protect me from her family.

“For starters, I’m waiting for my food to settle before I dig into that chocolate cake.”

“Oh, yeah. You do know that you are more than welcome to cut a slice and take it with you.”

“Only a slice?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yep. I fully intend to crawl into bed with what’s left and devour it while reading a dirty romance book.”

“That sounds hot.”

“It won’t be. Not even the quickie I’ll give myself before I fall into a chocolate coma will be hot.” Holy shit, I said that aloud.

“Fuck,” he said, before I could try to take the words back. “That was even hotter.”

“I promise it won’t be. I don’t think anyone on this planet thinks the sight of a fat girl fingering herself is hot.” What the hell am I doing? Why do I keep saying shit? To keep my mouth occupied while Ryan eyed me, waiting to see what else I said, I downed my glass of wine.

When I was done, he took my glass from me and sat it down next to his on the table. He turned to me with a look that made my heart beat wildly in my chest and said, “I would love to watch you pleasure yourself, and at some point tonight, I might let you, but I think, for now, I want to do all of the pleasuring.”