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“I’ll do it,” she responded, and watched his eyes flare.
She’d never done this before, but he made her feel daring and bold.
She took the foil packet from him, but when he lay back on the bed, instead of rolling the protection on him, she pleasured him with her mouth.
He tensed with surprise, then relaxed and groaned. “Kelly …”
She heard the warning in his voice but, knowing she was undermining his control, she kept on going.
“I’m about to lose it,” he said hoarsely.
When she raised her head, he gave her a quick hard kiss.
“Bold in bed,” he said, smiling. “I like that.”
It took them a long time to roll the protection on him. In the end, neither of them could wait any longer.
He rolled her under him and parted her thighs. Then, holding her gaze, he slid into her slowly and came down into her arms.
The buildup was slow—and he toyed with her, increasing her pleasure—but when her release came, it was in a rush of sensation so that she gasped and cried out, grasping his hips as she moved against him.
His release came on the heels of hers and he spilled himself inside her.
She held him afterward, knowing that in this moment he was totally hers.
Nine
When Kelly woke the next morning, she glanced over and blinked. Ryan looked back at her, his hair tousled.
She’d done that, she realized, heat rising. Last night, she’d raked her fingers through his hair, and so much more.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Morning,” she said, suddenly unsure of herself.
She tried to glance at the clock on the bedside table.
“It’s only eight,” he said. “Plenty of time for you to get to work, which, in any case, is right here.” He smiled. “Lucky you. You can just roll out of bed and be on the job.”
Last night had been what she’d imagined sex was supposed to be. She’d pictured it in her mind countless times. And it had finally become a reality with Ryan Sperling.
“Last night was incredible,” he said, as if reading her mind.
A pleasurable thrill shot through her. It had been wonderful for her, too, but she wasn’t as experienced in bed as she was sure Ryan was.
“It’d been a while for me,” he stated.
She looked at him in surprise. She was the one who’d been all but celibate most of her adult life.
“Really? Why?” she asked.
“You could say I’ve been consumed with other things …”
“It’s been a while for me, too,” she admitted.
“Yeah, I know.” Under the bed sheets, his hand trailed along her leg.
He knew? Had she been so obviously rusty and inexperienced last night? She felt heat stain her cheeks.
She looked at him quizzically. “How did you know? Was I so obviously a novice?”
He shook his head and gave her a quick kiss. “No, but that night at the White Fir, when I got you home, and before you drifted off to sleep—“
She felt herself tense. She’d wondered whether she’d forgotten some key details from that night.
“—you mentioned you’d been with only one guy before, and then only a couple of times.”
“I did?” Apparently, when she was tipsy, she relished divulging her innermost secrets.
His lips quirked. “You’ll recall your conversation was a little, ah, disjointed, that night. I got you into bed and a second before you fell asleep, you said something about never having spent the entire night with a man before, though of course—” his eyes crinkled “—I was getting you into bed only in the most literal sense.”
Her brows drew together. “So you knew this when you slept with me last night?”
A smile rose to his lips again, even as the heat rose to her face.
“Yeah,” he said.
His words landed with the force of an explosion—at least to her. Looking at him, she knew he had no clue.
The rat, she thought.
He’d known all along just how inexperienced she was. No wonder he’d changed his tune after that night at the White Fir.
What had he claimed as the reason behind his change in attitude? The realization that we all make mistakes?
Well, she’d made a mistake—starting with sleeping with him last night!
She threw back the bedcovers and got out of bed.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
He continued to look guileless—his tone and expression relaxed and satisfied—and it fueled her anger.
She grabbed her clothes from where she’d put them on a nearby chair last night and decided to give him a clue.
“So I was an easy target?” she demanded. “Ripe for the picking because you knew I’d gone so long without, hmm?”
He sat up, suddenly alert. “No. I explained I haven’t had any, either—“
She waved a hand. “Yes, I know. In ages. All the more reason for you to have been thrilled to find a soft target. I just fell into your lap, didn’t I?”
He smiled roguishly. “Well, if you want to put it that way—“
“No wonder you seemed so willing suddenly to overlook the fact I was Brenda Hartley’s daughter!”
“Don’t dare bring your mother into it,” he said, no longer joking as he rose from the bed.
She stomped to the nearby bathroom and slammed the door and locked it.
“Damn it, come back here so we can talk about this!”
She ignored him.
“Kelly!” He knocked on the door and twisted the knob. “Come on out.”
Methodically, she dressed, while he continued to knock and pound.
“All right,” he said eventually. “I’m not having this conversation through the bathroom door. I’m going downstairs to make some coffee and wait for you to calm down.”
She was calm, she wanted to tell him. In fact, she was thinking more lucidly than she had all weekend.
He hadn’t mentioned he knew her sexual history, or lack thereof, until after he’d gotten her into bed.
She thought he’d started seeing her—really seeing her—for the whole of who she was. Instead, he’d seen no more than a potential bed buddy, convinced by nothing more than her sexual history.
She couldn’t believe she’d started falling for him. She was such an idiot.
She dressed quickly, then took a deep breath. She would march out of the house without letting Ryan persuade her otherwise. He couldn’t be trusted.
She would just have to chalk up today as a loss as far as finishing the job at the lodge went. Later, she could figure out how she was going to finish up her decorating work without coming into contact with Ryan. She’d just have to come to an arrangement with him to be at the lodge while he was out.
Taking another deep breath, she opened the bathroom door and looked around.
The room was empty and her eyes strayed to the huge bed. The rumpled and twisted sheets were a reminder of last night.
Resolutely looking away, she stole out of the room and crept down the stairs.
This was the second time she was trying to sneak away, and while she was prepared for Ryan to intercept her, she preferred not to have a scene.
When she’d made it down to the lower level, she sighed with relief.
She quietly opened the front door … and her heart leapt to her throat.
“Brenda?” Her question came out as a gasp.
Her mother, who had been surveying the drive, turned to face her.
Brenda’s bright red lips curved into a smile. “Hello, tootsie. I was just about to ring the doorbell.”
Kelly felt her heart race. No, no, no, she wanted to scream. Not here, not now.
“What are you doing here?” she squeaked.
Brenda’s smile dimmed. “I went by your house, but you weren’t there. When I tried your cell and couldn’t reach you, I called Erica. She was out with the kids, but Greg told me you might be here.”
“I—”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Kelly.”
Ryan’s voice sounded behind her and, as if in a nightmare, Kelly watched Brenda look past her, just as she herself turned to see Ryan coming into the foyer.
All three of them froze.
Ryan stared at the woman in the doorway, and his lips thinned. Even if he hadn’t seen her before, it wouldn’t have been hard to figure out who she was. She looked like an older version of Kelly.
He’d come to iron things out with Kelly—because last night had been fantastic, and because now that he’d found her, he wasn’t letting her go. Instead, he was confronted by one of the last people he wanted to see.
“Brenda,” Kelly said, “this isn’t a good time—”
Ignoring her, Brenda sashayed in, looking from her daughter to Ryan and back. “I see I’m interrupting something.”
She looked Ryan up and down in frank appraisal, making his skin feel tight with angry tension.
“What makes you think so?” Kelly asked, addressing her mother.
Ryan could have told her that her high-pitched, slightly hysterical voice was a dead giveaway.
Brenda lifted her hand, with its fire-engine red nails, and rubbed a lock of Kelly’s hair between her fingers.
“Bed hair,” she said succinctly.
Kelly flushed, then looked helplessly at Ryan.
He approached slowly, aiming for a casual stance. “Kelly’s sister, I presume?”
Brenda gave a tinkling laugh, as if she found his question highly amusing. “I see you inherited your father’s charm.”
She turned to her daughter. “I admit being surprised, however, that you picked Webb’s son as your … playmate.”
Kelly drew in an audible breath. “You know who he is?”
Brenda flashed a hard smile. “I make it my business to keep up with all of Clayburn’s current and past illustrious citizens.” Then she looked at Ryan again. “However, the photos I’ve seen of you in the local papers don’t do you justice.”
If the comment had come from anyone else, Ryan figured he’d have been flattered. But this was Brenda Hartley. Clayburn’s erstwhile sexpot. His father’s former mistress. Kelly’s mother.
The last thought brought him up short.
