Society Wives (9 page)

The men stood, but didn't move. Ryan finished her wine, turned the glass upside down, and let the remainder drip on her tongue. Then she plopped the glass down in front of Pearson, letting on that she wanted more while never taking her eyes off Anderson.

Nadalia wanted to stop the situation from ending explosively, but a part of her wanted to see just how this would play out. She'd been waiting to see Ryan grow a backbone.

“Ryan. You don't want to do this in front of everyone.”

“Do what, Anderson? Go ahead and show your friends who you really are. I won't sit here and let you treat me like this anymore. Like… something you can toss aside when you see a nice piece of ass. I won't tolerate it. I'm tired.”

Anderson moved like he would pounce on Ryan, but Mike jumped in his path, while Sage pulled his suit jacket from behind.

“Wait one minute! You will
not
do this here!” Nadalia ordered.

“Watch yourself, Ryan. Don't say anything that you know you'll regret,” Anderson warned with a pointed finger.

“I'm done with regrets,” she shot back.

Anderson moved toward her again and Sage, Niles and Mike blocked him.

Nadalia stepped up behind Ryan's back as a show of support, but also to be in position to get Ryan out of the way in case Anderson leapt over the table.

Fury danced in his eyes as he scowled at her. She stood her ground, staring him back down.

He straightened his suit, he tugged the cuffs of his shirts. “Done with regrets, huh? I don't care how much wine you drank. You had better think about what you're doing, disrespecting me. You're nothing without me. You hear me? Nothing!” He jabbed a finger in her direction, punctuating his statement.

Anderson stepped around Sage. “Excuse me you all. Nadalia, this was a great evening.” Anderson drew into himself, standing a tad taller. He shot Ryan one last scathing look and walked out of the dining room, through the foyer, and straight out the door.

Everyone stood, looking from one to the other. The screech of Anderson's tires alerted them of his sharp departure.

Ryan grabbed the wine bottle and tried to pour herself another drink, but her hands trembled violently, threatening to send both the bottle and her glass crashing to the floor. Vonnie gently took the wine from Ryan's shaking hands and hugged her.

Ryan pulled away, eyes glistening. “I'm fine. Thanks.”

Slowly, everyone started to make themselves busy, clearing the table, and searching for their coats.

Ryan stood and turned toward Nadalia. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” Nadalia snapped and cut her eyes at Pearson at the same time. “You didn't start this.”

Either Pearson missed the comment or ignored it because she hadn't moved, nor did she stop drinking.

“Get the girls in here. It's time to clean up,” she said to the help and then marched toward the kitchen shouting more orders.

“Ryan, Mike and I can drop you off if you want,” Vonnie offered.

“Thanks.”

Sage and the men moved to the foyer and huddled in a discussion.

Nadalia was pissed at Ryan, Anderson, and Pearson. Not only was her lovely party ruined, but also she knew that Sage was all wound up.

“Well!” she said, snatching everyone's attention with her sharp tone and a hand clap. “It's been a lovely evening,” she sneered. “I do hope you enjoy the rest of your holiday, people! Good night!” Nadalia spun on her heels and left the room without bothering to see her guests out.

Chapter 14

Ryan

Ryan folded her small frame into the back seat of Vonnie and Mike's sports car and wished she could have been completely absorbed by the buttery soft leather. Vonnie and Mike were kind enough to leave her out of their minimal conversation.

She couldn't believe how she stood up to Anderson in front of everyone, but when Pearson made Anderson's ogling known, she had to do something. She had noticed it long before, but kept her mouth shut. She was used to it. What she wasn't used to was other people witnessing what she often let pass.

As they pulled to a dreaded stop in front of the impressive home Anderson had built to her specifications, she hoped that this was one of the nights Anderson chose to run off to who knew where.

It hurt that somehow he'd got wind of her truth–that she was lucky to have a man like him. He shared the screen with Hollywood's most beautiful actresses, and that reality only fueled her insecurities.
Why had he chosen to marry her anyway?

Ryan peaked out of the car window and her heart rate quickened at the sight of his fiery red Porsche in the driveway. It was posted haphazardly and dangerously close to the back of her Range Rover. She forced a hard swallow and summoned all of her inner strength just to push her leg out. Mike held her hand to help her exit.

She forced a weak smile. “Thanks again.” Her mouth was dry and her voice croaked. “I have my key. No need to wait. I'll be fine.” Ryan didn't want them to see the impending fire storm in case it started at the door.

“Are you sure?” Vonnie asked.

“I'll be fine,” she said with strained confidence and waved off Vonnie's concerns. “Get home safe and text me to let me know you've made it. Thanks again for the ride.” She pretended as if everything was okay, hoping her performance was convincing enough.

“Okay,” Vonnie said, reaching for a quick kiss on her cheek. “If you need me, call me,” she whispered during their embrace.

“I will,” Ryan lied. Vonnie had already been exposed to far too much of her dysfunctional existence.

Ryan waved them off, watching their car retreat down the street past the mouth of their cul-de-sac. Once they were out of sight, she turned toward her home. Standing at the edge of her gate in the dark, she looked around and for a moment and thought of spending the night in their cottage behind the house. Then, she lifted her chest and drew in a deep cold breath before taking pointed steps toward her front door.

Lights were on all over the first floor and a few on the second level. Still a little surprised that he was home, she figured maybe he was preparing to go out. She hoped so.

Ryan slid her key in the lock and turned slowly. The door creaked as she pushed it open, and peered inside. When she saw no sign of Anderson, she tipped in and quietly closed it behind her.

The flicker of changing lights and colors indicated that the television was on in the family room. She could visualize Anderson sprawled across his recliner with a drink in his hand. If she was lucky, he'd be asleep.

Tipping further inside, she figured she could make a run for her bedroom, grab a nightie and head to one of the guest rooms to sleep. She preferred to deal with him after they both had some rest. She made it to the first step.

“Ryan!”

She flinched and froze. He was right behind her and his voice sounded colder than the ice he swirled around in his glass. Ryan closed her eyes and sighed before turning to face him.

He stood arrogantly, though he looked disheveled. His feet were bare, his belt was unbuckled, and his shirt was half buttoned with the bottom only halfway inside his slacks. Holding a snifter of scotch, Anderson peered at her over the rim as he drank.

“Bring your ass over here.”

Ryan didn't move. Where was all of that courage she exhibited back at Nadalia's house?

The group had been her safety net. They'd never let him strike her or even go too far with his piercing words. But now, it was just the two of them.

Until now, he'd only struck her with his callous tongue. The scars he inflicted were invisible, but lasted longer and cut deeper than any physical ones. However, after her courageous outburst, she didn't know if tonight, he'd stop with just his words.

“I said—”

Her instincts told her to run and she tried to shoot up the steps, but Anderson grabbed her leg and dragged her back down. In one swift movement, he lifted her by her armpits, still holding his glass in the other hand.

“No! Anderson!”

Once she was on her feet, Anderson was in her face. The smell of the liquor assaulted her, stinging the insides of her nostrils. He pulled her in, gathering a handful of the front of her dress.

“What the hell did you think you were doing back there?”

“Let go of me,” she pleaded, squinting to protect her eyes from the spit that flew from his mouth.

“How dare you talk to me like that in front of my friends?” Anderson grabbed her arm.

Ryan winced. “You kept looking at her. I wouldn't have said anything if Pearson hadn't. It was embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” Anderson released her hard, causing her to fly backwards and stumble over her own feet.

“Anderson!” she yelled, just keeping herself from hitting the floor.

“Don't you ever…” Anderson paused, placed his glass down on the console and paced. “Everything you have is because of me. I had this house built for you. And you dare to disrespect me in front of my friends.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Tears streamed down Ryan's face. If she just had a small dose of the courage she displayed earlier, she would say so much back to him. She would tell him she made sacrifices too—like giving up her dreams to become a bored, lonely housewife. What about all the nights she spent waiting on him to come home, the embarrassment she felt when she did accompany him to industry events, or the times she watched him flirt with other actresses. What about how he disregarded her feelings, opinions and constantly reminded her of her meager past? What about the pain of all of the babies she tried to have for him and failed? Ryan crumbled into her hands and cried harder.

For a while, Anderson just stood over her, watching her.

“Get up!”

“No.”

“Ryan!” Anderson reached down and pulled at her. “I said get up.”

Ryan was weary. She was almost afraid to get up because she didn't know if he would knock her back down. She hated this and was tired of living under Anderson's thumb, but what choice did she have? She couldn't leave. He was right, without him she had nothing. His prenuptial agreement made sure of that.

Drooping like a rag doll, Ryan lay limp, offering no assistance as Anderson pulled her to her feet. Ryan knew she looked a mess, imagining the deep circles surrounding her red swollen eyes.

Holding her up by her arms, Anderson drew Ryan closer to him. She held her head down, refusing to look in his eyes as he bent over trying to force her to look at him.

Why did he want her to look at him? Why didn't he just go somewhere and crawl into bed with one of his lovers?

He shook her and her neck flopped. “Look at me!” he demanded.

Slowly Ryan lifted her head until they were eye to eye. She didn't know what was in the look he trained on her. He pulled her closer and she felt the rigidness of his erection poke her stomach. Ryan's brow creased in confusion. Did all of this arouse him?

Anderson covered her mouth hard with his, answering her unasked question. At first Ryan refused to kiss him back, but he forced her mouth open, pushing his tongue inside. He tasted of whiskey. He pulled in closer as if it were possible, squeezing her in his embrace. The kiss was wet, sloppy. His hands plundered her body and he pressed himself against her harder.

To her surprise, she felt a sliver of heat rise inside. The mix of adrenaline and the lust expanding in her made her dizzy. The feeling was foreign, but intense. The same sick intensity must have taken over Anderson's senses. Without parting from her lips, he tore her dress off, backed her against the staircase, and laid her down. He set his body over hers and then dragged her underwear down her legs.

Ryan helped him, wiggling as he pulled them down. She kicked off her shoes and Anderson released his erection. When Ryan felt it against her, she lifted her legs. Anderson found her entrance and was drawn in by the muscles of her warm, moist canal.

Ryan screamed when he entered her fully and met him thrust for thrust right there on the steps. She slammed all of her frustration against him.

They stared at each other as if they were strangers who happened into this compromising position. His face contorted, as the intensity of their connection threatened to take him over the edge. The look of lustful desperation he held in his gaze caused heat to surge through Ryan. The walls of her center clenched and she squeezed, milking him until he yelled out.

Ryan thrust harder, lifting her back up off the stairs. Moments later, another shot of heat radiated throughout her body, causing the edges of her skin to sting deliciously.

Together, they cried out, riding out their releases by plowing into one another. Coming hard and fast, neither would let up as if they had something to prove.

Depleted, Anderson fell on top of her. She dug her fingers into his back and the rest of her peak rippled through her. Panting and trembling, they held each other until their breathing came under control.

Anderson peeled himself from her sweaty body and stood. Without even retrieving his pants, he grabbed the railing and helped himself up the stairs.

Ryan remained on the steps listening to his footsteps until she heard the bathroom door close and wondered what had come over her. What had come over them?

Chapter 15

Vonnie

Vonnie and Mike made it home just past midnight and Vonnie was so worried about Ryan. She knew something was up with them after the miscarriage situation, and tonight put all of the pieces of the puzzle together.

Anderson was abusive. Vonnie just wasn't sure how abusive or what kinds of abuse and she wondered if he had ever put his hands on her.

The thought of Anderson striking Ryan nearly made Vonnie cry. Ryan wouldn't be able to handle a punch from a fit man like Anderson.

Vonnie thought about trying to find out more about their situation for Ryan's sake. She wanted Ryan to know that if she needed someone, she'd be there for her and would never tell her secrets.