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Authors: Rebecca Lynn

Tags: #Iris

BOOK: Release
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She nearly
climaxed again.

He then turned
and walked to the door.  Before it latched behind him, he gave her a
pointed look, and said, “Lock up behind me,” then his mouth kicked up into his
lazy grin and he winked, walking out the door.

She slid down
the wall into a puddle on the floor, then covered her face.

He was
right.  When he winked at her, she
didn’t
want to control her
urges.

 

Chapter 9

 

It took Ryann a
good hour to fall asleep that night…or that morning, depending on how you
looked at it.  She finally had to move the picture of Brent off the
nightstand.  She found she kept staring at it, mentally begging his
forgiveness because she felt as if she’d cheated on him.

Of course, she
hadn’t.  She knew that.  Her rational side kept telling her that, and
she knew she would get through this first initiation back into the real
world.  But she couldn’t seem to convince her heart.  She hadn’t been
kissed by another man since Brent.  Could she even describe what happened
between her and Jeremy a “kiss”?  It was like no other moment she had ever
experienced in her life with Brent.  Perhaps that’s what made her feel so
guilty.  And worried.

Guilty, because
she felt like she was betraying Brent’s memory.  She hadn’t meant to
compare Brent to Jeremy, but considering she didn’t have a wide range of
experience with different men, there wasn’t really anyone else with whom she
could compare him.

Worried, because
Jeremy made her feel something in such an extreme way, and it was so completely
beyond the sexual feelings she had ever felt with Brent.  Jeremy talked
dirty to her, explicitly describing what he wanted to do to her, it made her
feel so… sexy… naughty… so turned on.  One night with Jeremy had been more
erotic than the five years she had spent with Brent.

And that was the
problem.  It killed a piece of her.

She sighed and
punched the pillow.  Eventually, she fell asleep, dreaming of chocolate...
and green eyes.

…..

What in the
world...
?
Ryann lifted her heavy head off of her pillow, trying to
decipher the noise she’d heard. She was exhausted from going to bed so late and
not being able to sleep soundly because...that’s right...she’d let a man she’d
practically known give her a toe curling orgasm up against her foyer wall.

Ryann rolled
over and put her pillow over her head trying not to remember the night before
without blushing.  The thought of Jeremy sent a warm shiver down below,
and she knew she’d never be able to forget that moment.

The noise jolted
her up again...a loud banging coming from the front of the house.  Ryann
looked at her alarm clock.  10:57am.

Oh, shit! 
She’d just realized what the banging was, and jumped out of bed to sprint to
the front door, nearly tripping over boxes in her path.

Ryann opened the
door without looking out the window.  She knew exactly who was on the
other side.

“What the hell
took you so long?!  I’ve been banging on this door for 15 minutes! 
Did you just wake up?” Ayanna yelled in shock.

Way to state the
obvious, Yan.

Ayanna Sarin had
been Ryann’s best friend for 17 years.  When they were 10, she had told
off Marcy Sherman for making fun of Ryann because she had no father, and they’d
been like like sisters ever since. 

Looking fresh as
a daisy, and sexy as hell in her black leggings and long bright blue off the
shoulder shirt, Ayanna strode in, her long silky black hair swinging
indignantly in a ponytail, and her sparkly light brown eyes drilling into
her.  Despite the fact that her Indian American parents had wanted her to
live up to the meaning of her name, Ayanna was anything but sweet and innocent,
and was unapologetically flirty and flamboyant, the complete antithesis of her
best friend since grade school. 

Living in the
City with her two gay roommates, Chad and Steve, she’d just recently got back
from studying at a famous culinary institute abroad, and much to her
overachieving parents’ disappointment, she was currently working at a
well-known restaurant in Manhattan as a sous chef, hoping to one day achieve
her dream of becoming the best food critic in the City.

“Yikes,” Ayanna
said sarcastically, as she walked through the door.  “Rough night?”

Ryann gave her a
dirty look, then flopped down on the sofa with a deep sigh, and dropped her
face down into the throw pillow.  Ayanna flopped on the stuffed chair
opposite her.

“Didn’t you go
to the art showing last night?”

Ryann nodded.

“So why do you
look like death warmed over?  Did you get home that late?” 

“You have no
idea.”

“Wow.  That late?  You dirty stay-out, you. 
I hope you at least got lucky,” Ayanna snorted, obviously joking, using Ryann’s
Scottish mother’s favorite phrase for whenever the girls had stayed out past
curfew... which more often than not, was Ayanna’s fault, thank you very much.

Ryann averted
her eyes, not knowing yet if she was ready to tell Ayanna about what happened
with Jeremy. 

“My car broke
down in the City and I had to take a cab home from the gallery last night. I
didn’t get in until late. I must have slept through my alarm.” Ryann explained.

“You shouldn’t
even bother getting it fixed. You won’t need it in the City.”

“It’s on
craigslist.  Somebody will make an offer soon, so I won’t have it for much
longer.  I need to pick it up from the service station later.”

“Well, lucky for
you, I got you a latte and an ‘everything’ bagel with cream cheese...because,
you know, I’m awesome.”  She dug everything out of the bag and put it on
the coffee table.  “How much do you love me right now?” she asked not waiting
for an answer.  “I left my key to your place at home because I thought you
would’ve been up hours ago.”

“Why are you so
good to me?” Ryann asked, as she sniffed her caffeinated beverage, wishing she
could shoot it directly into her veins.

She snorted,
shaking her head.  “I have no idea.”

Ayanna had
always been her rock. When Brent died, she hadn’t left her side for a month,
practically moving in, even when Ryann begged her to leave. They had been
through everything together and Ryann couldn’t imagine her life without her.

“It looks like
you made a pretty good dent in packing.  What do we have left?” Ayanna
asked.

“The kitchen is
the last room to pack and then the movers come early tomorrow morning.”

Ryann couldn’t
believe she would be leaving the home she’d shared with Brent. The move was
bittersweet; she was excited about beginning the next phase in her life, living
in the Big City and starting her dream job. But, she also knew what she was
leaving behind. This house and all of its memories would always be with her,
but she knew she had to move on.

“How was the art
exhibit last night?  Were you able to meet the artist like you wanted to?”
Ayanna asked as she walked into the kitchen, and began taking the glasses out
of the cabinet.

Ryann had to
pinch herself to realize last night was not a dream. She still couldn’t believe
what she’d done. Who was that loose woman last night and would she ever come
back?  God, she hoped so.  She had never felt so free and liberated
in her life. 

Her sex life
with Brent had been healthy.  But she sensed with a man like Jeremy, she
would discover a new and exciting side to herself.  She had a feeling he
would demand it.  Which made it all the more exciting. 

Not that she
would have the opportunity to see if her prediction would come true.  The
thought depressed her.  

But really, who
wouldn’t
enjoy a man who looked like Jeremy, talked like Jeremy, and most
especially
kissed
like Jeremy.  And ending the evening with a
climax to beat all climaxes, while pressed up against her foyer wall wasn’t too
shabby.  All from a kiss, a touch, and a grind. 

Even though she
wanted the excitement, it was so unlike her.  The rational side of her,
the side that always won these arguments, told her she needed to focus on her
career and not get involved with someone who could distract her from her
goal.  Especially someone who may pose an ethical dilemma given her new
career path.  No matter how beautiful, sexy, arrogant, presumptuous,
dominating and confident Jeremy was.  Right?  Right.

What other
adjectives could she think of?  Had she mentioned sexy?

She
sighed.  She knew getting involved with him while he sat on the board of
the Institute couldn’t happen.  
Shouldn’t
happen.

Seriously, what
were the friggin’ odds?

“Well, funny you
should ask,” Ryann said, finally answering her question about the art
exhibit.  “I ran into a former student of mine who was on the wait staff
at the event, and get this...he’s the nephew of Tabitha Lowe.”

Ryann explained
while wrapping glasses in bubble wrap.  She knew soon she wouldn’t be able
to avoid mentioning Jeremy, and began biting her lip.  For some reason,
she was nervous about telling Ayanna.

“Small world!”
Ayanna exclaimed.

“Yeah,” she
laughed breathily.  “So, I was able to meet Tabitha Lowe and she was
amazing... her new pieces are wonderful.  She made me feel very at ease
and even said she would be interested in seeing some of my work.”  Ryann
began to clear her throat, and her eyes darted around. 

“That would be
great if you did that!” she said looking at her.  “So,” she returned to
packing, “a City cab drove you home last night all the way from
Manhattan?  They never want to drive this far out unless you pay them for
the return trip.”

Ryann realized
she couldn’t keep the secret much longer.

She cleared her
throat again, and began to fidget.  Ayanna was watching her like a
hawk. 

“I know you,
Ryann Thornton.  You’ve cleared your throat twice now, and you’re all
nervous and fidgety and shit.  What’s going on?  If I didn’t know
better, I’d think you
did
get lucky last night.”  Ayanna guffawed
loudly.

Ryann stared at
her, and let the silence draw out.  Ayanna blinked, then practically threw
the glass she was wrapping into the box.  She put her hands on her hips,
and glared.  “You totally better start talking, Ry, because if you got
lucky, I’m absolutely going to scream right now.”

“Hold on, Yan...
let’s sit,” Ryann mumbled. 

Ayanna grabbed
her hand and dragged them to the living room, flopping them down onto the
sofa.  “We’re sitting.  Talk,” she said.

“I may have
forgotten to mention that I got picked up by the most infuriating man…pompous,
arrogant, presumptuous,” she began sputtering, “
jerk
who thinks he’s
God’s gift to women, and…” Ryann took a breath, but Ayanna saw the opportunity
and dove in.

“Whoa – slow the
fuck down.  You got picked up by a guy?  I’ve been here for 10
minutes, and you’re just now getting around to
telling
me this?! 
What does this guy look like?”  Ayanna was smiling and rubbing her hands,
settling in for the details girlfriends always wanted.

Ryann
sighed.  “He’s friggin’ gorgeous.  You’re typical tall, dark, and
handsome, entitled… asshole,” she muttered.

Ayanna let go of
a gut laugh.  “I want details!  And if this part of the story doesn’t
end well, I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”

Ryann gave her a
look, and said, “Would having a mind blowing orgasm while he had me plastered
up against that wall right there 10 hours ago, constitute as ‘ending well’?”

“Holy
shit!”  Ayanna smacked her hands to her head.  “Are you fucking
kidding me?!”

“Hold on, I’m
getting there!  Where was I?”

“Just get to the
mind blowing orgasm already!  And don’t scrimp on the details!”

Ryann sputtered
again. “He was gorgeous and hot, and,” her voice began to take on a panicked
sound, “arrogant and presumptuous, and … he pissed me off multiple times which
led to an embarrassing moment when I found out that he...wait for it...is
Tabitha Lowe’s son!”

“Wait. 
Shit!  Was this before, during, or after the orgasm?”

“This was at the
showing right before I met Tabitha Lowe, who is really
so
wonderful.”

“Don’t get
distracted!!”  Ayanna said before Ryann could start talking about Tabitha
again.  Then she smacked her head, muttering, “I should a had a V8.” 
Ayanna looked back at her.  “Then what?!” 


Then
, to
top it all off, I discovered at the end of the night, that he’s going to be the
new vice chairperson... at the FUCKING MANHATTAN INSTITUTE FOR ART AND
DESIGN!!” she screamed.

Ayanna was
trying to clear her head and understand, “Shit!  Wait, was
this
during
the orgasm part?”

“No!  This
was at the showing!”

“Get to the
orgasm part!”

Ryann groaned,
and covered her face, then whined, “When I found out he was going to be taking
his mother’s place on the board, I snuck out of the gallery even though he had
offered to drive me home, and I took a cab instead, and lo and behold, who
pulled up to the house after I got here, but him.  He paid for the cab,”
she said in a smitten tone.  “He followed me home, Yan,” she added
quietly.

“Oh, Ry. 
That’s great, sweetie.”  Pause.  “I mean, he’s not a stalker guy, is
he?”

“No.”

“What happened
sweetie?” she asked gently, and then moved closer to her on the sofa. 
“This is kinda big, ya know?”

“It’s
huge
,”
Ryann mumbled.

Ayanna snorted
again, loudly.  “That’s what she said,” Ayanna said wagging her eyebrows,
while Ryann shook her head and rolled her eyes.  Ayanna got serious again
and grabbed Ryann’s hand.  “Talk to me.”

And she
did.  Ryann proceeded to give her the intimate details of the night
before, not withholding any information.  She told her about how they
first saw each other in traffic, then how the rest of the night proceeded, with
all of the multiple arguments, disagreements, and coincidences. 

When she finally
got to them in the foyer, Ayanna was riveted to the edge of her seat.  “I
mean, he barely touched me, and I just exploded right there.  I was so
embarrassed, Yan,” she said covering her face again.  She mumbled through
her hands.  “I mean, really.  He must think I’m such a country
bumpkin.  And you just know he’s really experienced, probably screwing a
different model girl every night, or something.  I’m not going to be
another one of his floozies, I’ll tell you that right now,” she huffed.

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