Trusting Ryan. Tara Quinn Taylor
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get any better.
He stared at her thighs. At the scrap of white lace panty that didn’t quite cover the dark hair curling there. The thin strap of thong disappearing into her backside.
And something occurred to him.
She’d dressed for this. For him.
Looking up at her, he sought silent confirmation in the gaze that was fully on him.
“You’re okay with this.” It was more statement than question.
Her lips were trembling as she nodded.
With fingers that were oversensitized, he touched her, the soft skin of her legs, her inner thighs, the brush of hair at the top of her panties. He had to go slowly now, or explode before he ever got where he was going.
“I want yours off, too.”
Slow down, Mercedes, he told his raging body as he stood. Unbuttoned his own jeans, stepped out of them—taking his briefs off at the same time.
And then he stood before her, his penis full and weighted down, while she looked at him.
“Okay?” he asked when her gaze finally met his.
Licking her lips, she nodded again.
Ryan was beginning to love that silent affirmation, recognizing that she gave it when she most wanted something.
He meant to take another hour with her, to put his fingers every place he wanted his penis to go, to explore her so thoroughly there would be no part of her unknown to him.
He took a moment to sheath himself with a condom from the box in his bedside drawer—a supply that he used to replace the one in his wallet each month—and turned back to her.
Taking off her panties as he rejoined her on the bed, he made it only so long as it took him to spread her legs and settle himself between them. He didn’t have to wonder what to do. His body knew. He found her opening and gave a slow nudge, his gaze glued to hers.
And he watched her eyes open wider as his penis first penetrated and then, moving gently in and out, filled her more fully.
Nothing had prepared him for the way that felt. Ecstasy was too bland a word. Perfection not good enough to describe the sensation that filled him from head to toe. Heaven couldn’t be this good.
Ryan hadn’t known how he’d make certain that Audrey had an orgasm, wasn’t sure he’d recognize it when it happened. He only knew that he was not going to take his own pleasure without ensuring hers.
As it turned out, there was no issue. Fully inside her, he pulled out and thrust in again, and again, more quickly, feeling the pressure building in his erection, getting ready to explode, and knowing he was going to have to stop or go before she did when her moans changed, became more frantic, and then surprised-sounding as the inner folds of her body clasped him, pulsing around him. Over and over.
“Oh, my…” Her words were more cry than statement, released breathlessly before she sucked in air.
And with that breath, Ryan joined her, his body erupting with huge throbs as he came inside a woman for the first time in his life.
Highly praised and swiftly rising detective, Ryan Mercedes, had just lost his virginity.
YOU’RE IN TROUBLE, girl. Big trouble.
With Ryan’s “Oh, yes,” still ringing in her ears, the aftermath of his lovemaking leaving her lethargic and absolutely joyful at the same time, she tried her darnedest to rein herself in. To find reality.
She’d had sex before. Way before. And more recently than that, too. But she’d never made love.
Never felt that liquid heat devour every vein in her body, or known herself to give up control to the wild and free ecstasy he’d built inside her.
It had to be the wine. Or the fact that no one had ever taken more than an hour to have sex with her before.
It had to be how long they’d known each other without acknowledging the attraction between them.
It had to be the overdone steak.
It absolutely could not be that she’d in any way given any part of her heart to the man who was even now inside her.
Making her want to do it again.
“I’m sorry—am I too heavy?” Ryan lifted his shoulder off hers. The chilled air that drifted over her newly exposed skin was not welcome.
“No.” With one hand on his backside, holding him in place, and another on his shoulder, she pulled him back down. “You feel good.”
“I’m about to fall asleep.”
She’d figured so. Any man she’d ever been with—not that there’d been that many—had either jumped up and thrown on clothes immediately afterward, or fallen asleep without a word.
Novel to have someone actually talk to her about doing either.
“Sleep awhile, then,” she said softly, thinking she’d do the same herself.
Another first.
“But I don’t really want to sleep.” He raised up enough to look her in the eye. “I don’t want to waste a single moment with you.”
Oh, God, I am in serious trouble.
“I think that’s just about the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She told her new lover the unadorned truth. And lifted her head to plant a small kiss on lips that were slightly swollen.
Had she done that?
And left that love mark on his neck, too?
Was he going to be angry when he saw that?
Guiding his head gently back down to her chest, she ran her fingers slowly back and forth through his hair. It was full and thick, even for its shortness. And surprisingly soft.
So many things about this man were surprising to her. And yet, not surprising at all. He fit her so exactly, not only where they were still connected, but in all ways. He approached his job as she did, with everything he had, sparing little for any other life. He cared. He didn’t give up. He saw reality and still believed.
He had unbounded energy and had found a way, in spite of the experience and time it took to make detective, to avoid cynicism.
The weight of his head grew heavier and she hoped he’d allowed himself to rest. The man had worked all night. And if she had to guess, she’d figure he’d been up all day today, getting ready for tonight.
Everything in the apartment had been perfect. He’d dusted since she’d been there last. Vacuum marks had still lined the carpet. And the furniture outside was new, added since her previous visit when she’d peeked outside to the empty patio.
Dinner had already been prepared, other than the cooking of the steaks. Even the meat had been marinated.
It all spoke Ryan to her. Attention to every detail. Few mistakes. Dependable.
And she couldn’t fall prey to the tugs he was making on her heart. Neediness had cost her part of her soul.
A part she’d never get back.
As she continued to stroke his hair, Audrey glanced around the bedroom. As pristine as the rest of his apartment, and as sparsely decorated, the room was what she would have expected of a man whose priority was not his home, but rather, in getting the sleep he needed to do his job.
A bed. A dresser. Another big-screen television—for those sleepless nights? No window treatments other than the standard white blinds that were on every window in the condo.
And in every other unit in the complex, as far she’d been able to tell.
Nothing that really spoke of the man’s life. His past. No pictures of parents—or any other