Smokin' & Spinnin' (16 page)

I don’t know what to say. I try to speak, but I hesitate as he looks at me deeply with those piercing blue eyes. It’s unnerving.

Then, he slowly runs his strong hands up either side of my thighs. “What drove you so far from home?”

“I-I…” His intimate touch makes me stutter. I say it fast. “Same old sad story, an innocent girl gets her heart broken by an arrogant bastard like you!”

Ryan doesn’t respond with words. He firmly but softly runs his hands up my thighs, around to my behind, and connects them together.

He uses his newfound grip to pull me in close to him. I look down, embarrassed from the personal contact.

Ryan whispers, “Don’t do that…Don’t categorize me with whoever the hell he is.” He lifts my face up so I am forced to look him in his beautiful blue eyes. “I wanna make you forget about him.” His words make me go weak as my stomach drops out of my body through my feet.
Holy shit
!

Ryan leans in to press his lips to mine, but I pull back.
Way to go, Whitney! Way to ruin a perfect romantic moment!
The shocked look on his face lets me know that rejection is not an emotion he knows well.

“You can’t be serious!” I say a little too high-pitched. “We are not even friends.” I throw my hands up in the air, “You are not even cordial to me!”

“Cordial?” Ryan says testing my word choice. “I can show you cordial!” I roll my eyes and laugh nervously, still not believing that Ryan is in my apartment.

Ryan runs his hands through his air and the gesture seems to change his mood. He gives me a disappointed look and says, “I am dead serious.”

I let out a long breath. “I can’t do this!”

“Why?” Ryan hits me right back with his words. I look away.

“First of all,” I begin, “how do you go from hating someone to showing up unannounced in their home acting all romantic as hell?”

Ryan shakes his head at my statement. “I don’t hate you. I told you that before.”

I roll my eyes in return. “Oh, please! A few weeks ago, you would have run me over with your race car if you had the chance.”

Ryan laughs, “Now…that is probably true, but I do like a good challenge, Miss Parker.”

I eye him cautiously. “Well, it ain’t happening! Not tonight. I need this job. And I am not going to end up like the infamous Annalise.”

The mention of her name—or my rejection, I am not sure which—sends several shades of red across Ryan’s beautiful face. His demeanor changes instantly. I move to jump down from the counter again, but he holds me firmly in place with his hands on my thighs.

“Colton?” Ryan asks. “Is that why?”

I snap my head back and lock eyes with him.

“You’re seeing him, aren’t you?”

I laugh nervously. “Oh! So…this is why you’re here. This is what this is all about…Colton!” I shout mockingly at him.

“Well…are you with him?” Ryan looks at me with a quiet fury in his eyes.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Jealous much?”

Ryan looks angry as he waits for my answer.

“I…uh…no… that is none of your business!” I move to jump down from the counter, but Ryan is back at my side within a blink of an eye, halting my escape for the third time.

My breath catches in my throat as Ryan reaches up to gently caress my face. “OK…so if you’re not with him, what’s the problem?”

I shake my head nervously. “The problem?
Which one?
For one, you are practically my boss. We cannot be involved.”

Ryan looks annoyed, but retorts, “Well, if I am your boss, then I can do whatever the hell I want to!”

His statement scares me. I can feel myself start to sweat. “Is that a threat?” I say warily.

Ryan shoots me a “get real” look that eases my fear. Then he says, “I could never hurt you, Whitney.”

I shake my head as I feel tears spring to my eyes. Ryan has come out of nowhere, literally, with these professions of what…? Love? Hell no! Lust? I am still not convinced. Is this just a game he is playing? I am completely and utterly confused. I look down at his hands, which are gently placed on my thighs. I glance back up into his fierce blue eyes and say, “It’s not
if
you will hurt me; it’s how bad.”

Ryan looks pained by my statement but doesn’t relent. He moves his hands from my thighs to my cheeks to intimately caress my face again.

His touch burns and resonates throughout my body. I feel my blood roaring through my veins, much like the gunning motors of the stock cars at the track. I close my eyes. This moment is far too intense for eye contact. In an instant, I realize that the only other time I feel this way is when I am at the track during the race, with him. Over the last few weeks, I have found that factor of adrenaline and addiction at the track. Much like Ryan tried to explain to me in his home that night, I just didn’t understand what those emotions were. And in
this moment, now I know. In my entire life, I have never felt this way about anyone or anything. It is a revelation on my part. I have the love of NASCAR, this sport, in my blood. And now, I must admit that I want Ryan in my blood, too. I open my eyes.

Ryan searches my face for some clue as to what I am thinking. His breath is hot on my face, and his scent overtakes all my senses. I know where this is leading. I don’t want to be another cliché at the office. I don’t want to be another notch in his belt. Can I even handle this? Do I even have the power to stop him? Do I want to stop him?
Too many questions
.

Ryan leans in and presses his lips to mine, and my hands instantly go into his hair, reciprocating his desire. He reacts by pulling me into a tight embrace.

I protest and pull back from his tender kiss. “Ryan, please don’t,” I whisper. “I can’t risk my job. I can’t go back to Georgia.”

He looks at me cautiously. “Whitney, don’t make this complicated.”

“Complicated?” I laugh. “I think we trumped complicated thirty minutes ago.”

He nervously says, “True story.”

“But technically, you are my boss, remember?” I plead with him, hoping he will stop so I don’t have to make this decision.

Ryan huffs, “Last time I checked, you were bossing me around!”

I laugh. “No, I’m just your fucking babysitter, remember!” I say sarcastically.

Ryan shakes his head while a look of deep regret washes over his face.
What is that about?
His mood swings are making me nuts.

Then suddenly our light moment turns serious again as Ryan pleads with me, “I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you. You are not like any of the others.”

I shake my head at the thought of “others,” celebrities and supermodels. I definitely don’t fit that bill.
So, why me?
I look down, fighting back more tears. His words are sincere. I believe him, but I am torn because I know this is wrong. And I know it has a high probability of ending badly. My entire life has been spent making the best choices to make everyone else happy, but right now, I couldn’t give a shit less what is right. I am lost in this moment. It feels so right, and all I want right now is… for Ryan to make love to me.

Ryan can tell by my actions that I am in deep thought. He softly says, “Don’t overthink this.”

With my tears successfully fought, I look at him with anticipation and don’t offer another protest. With that, he pulls me in close to him, wraps my legs around his back, and gently lifts me off my kitchen counter. I am breathless from his dramatic, intimate gesture. For once in my life, I want to enjoy whatever is about to happen. I don’t know if Ryan wants one hour or one night from me. I don’t care, and to hell with the aftermath. I will deal with the consequences later. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his shoulder as he carries me down the hall to my bedroom.

Ryan enters my bedroom and attempts to lay me down on top of the bed, not bothering with the duvet. I keep my legs wrapped around him tightly, which forces him down onto the bed with me, letting him know that I want him too. I run my hands through his hair, and the dam breaks. Ryan kisses me with intense passion that leads to a
desperate need. He is right. There is something about us. I felt it from that moment he jumped into the elevator with me. I was attracted to him then, but this desperate need for another person is different for me too. Suddenly, I want to be as close to him as I can be.

Our clothes fly off, and our bodies began to move together. I no longer want to stop him. I want this passion to swallow me up, then drown me in the pleasure that I feel with Ryan. I want to totally experience this intense connection and not think about the repercussions of my actions for once in my life.

Ryan rises up, pulls back slowly, and looks me in the eye. “Are you sure, Whitney?”

I nod.

“I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do. I want you so bad, but I will wait if I have to.”

I nod again, pained by his confession. Then I whisper, “Stop talking. I want you. I need you.” I flush with embarrassment at my words. This is so unlike me to be direct, especially in this setting.

With those words, Ryan gently enters my body, wrapping my legs around his back. “God almighty!” he exclaims with raw emotion as he starts to move.

Our bodies pick up an enticing and strangely choreographed rhythm, like they were made for each other. I am lost. There is no first-time awkwardness. I feel my body building and escalating until it explodes gloriously into a million pieces. My body convulses with pleasure as he releases into me and buries his head in my neck.

We lay together, sticky and sweaty. I am wrapped tightly around his body, not wanting there to be an inch that separates us. What’s done
is done. I know whatever the aftermath is, I will deal with it, but I am not going to think about that now. Ryan shifts under me, and I raise my head to him.

“Am I hurting you?”

He smiles shyly back at me and whispers, “No,” then pulls me in closer so that I am lying across his body, tightly in his arms. I fight and fight, but I am overwhelmed by these events. I reluctantly drift off to sleep draped over
the
Ryan Carter.

* * *

I am awakened by Ryan’s movements. He shifts slightly and gently rolls me over to the side, and I feel him leave the bed. I look up, struggling for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, and watch as he moves slowly to gather his clothes and begins to dress. Dread pools in my stomach and makes me nauseous. He got what he came for, and now he is leaving.
Oh God! This is so awkward!

I sit up in the bed quickly and unexpectedly, taking him by surprise. I grasp the sheet around my naked body even though the room is dark.

He smiles. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I am going to get something to eat.”

“You’re leaving?” I ask sleepily.

He moves swiftly back to my side and smiles that beautiful, glorious smile. “What I meant to say was…I am going to get us something to eat.” I feel a thousand pounds of relief release from stomach. He leans in and kisses me tenderly. “I will be right back,” Ryan whispers against my lips.

It must be at least midnight, if not later. I have no idea where he has gone to get food, but I suspect it is the late-night deli located in the apartment village. While he is gone, I shower again. I emerge from the shower minus the sweat and stickiness, but am amazed that I can still smell his scent on my skin. I find some suitable pajamas and steal a glance in my bathroom mirror. My hair is now even wilder than before!
Gah!

Luckily, my straightening iron is still on and is smoking hot. I position myself on the counter in between the double vanity sinks and set out to tame my hair. I separate it into sections and begin to straighten each strand into submission. With every strand, I remember a different moment: his sincerity, his words, his hands all over my body, his breath on my neck.

I am lost in what I am doing dreaming about what just happened. I never knew I could have that type of physical connection with another person, especially one I despised up until a few hours ago. The electricity and the rush of being with Ryan is something I have never experienced.

Then my thoughts drift wayward to the consequences of what I have done. It was so worth it. I bat the negative thoughts away.
I am rather enjoying my sexual instant replay, thank you very much!

I am almost done with my hair when I spy Ryan standing in the doorway of the bathroom watching me intently. I smile nervously, relieved to see him. How long has he been there? I wonder.

He walks into the bathroom and softly says, “You are so beautiful.” He turns me around on the counter so that I am facing him. “Every single inch of you.”

I am stunned at his statement. Mr. Pompous Ass has a romantic side. I lean in and kiss him affectionately.

Ryan pulls back from my kiss, leaving me bereft. “Come on. I’m starving.” He lifts me off my perch and into his arms. “What is it with you and counters?” he asks jokingly.

I laugh, “What is it with your need to carry me everywhere?”

Ryan rolls his eyes at me and automatically sets me down to the floor. We walk hand in hand to the living room, where he has set up a small pseudo picnic on my coffee table. Suddenly, I realize I am starving, too.

Ryan has, in fact, gone down to the deli, which is one of my favorite places to eat. He has brought back a variety of things like chicken salad, cheeses, and fresh-baked croissants. It all tastes heavenly.

While we eat, we talk. Ryan incessantly quizzes me about Georgia. I know what he wants to know about, but I delay on that subject. He continues to ask me questions about my family and my life growing up as if he is desperate to know me better. It’s heartwarming but confusing still. My head is swimming from what has transpired in the last few hours.

“Tell me…” Ryan trails off.

I shake my head. “Why? Why can’t you just let it go?”

Ryan shrugs at me. “I want to understand you, is all. You seem so strong. I mean no one has ever spoken to me the way you did that day in the boardroom, not even my own mother. But at the same time, or at times, I mean, you seem troubled. And that is hard for me to take.”

Hard for you? Ha! I lived it.