Going All the Way (8 page)

Riley was already at the door by the time she picked up their mess and met him there. It was a good thing Ryan was so committed to his work. If he’d been willing, she would have jumped right into bed with him. Obviously there was something going on between them. Perhaps they could try giving into it and see where it took them? Keep things strictly physical with no strings attached. This way he could focus on his work, and she on her art without any messy complications. And when he found out she was once married to Stu? She sighed. She’d have to tell him, and sooner rather than later.

Chapter Ten

Ryan tried everything he could think of to get Carrie out of his mind, but just when he thought that he’d be able to focus on his work, he’d remember the feel of her lips on his. Her taste. Her touch. And he’d b
e physically
unable to concentrate. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so excited for a woman. He shouldn’t have stopped the kiss. Maybe if he’d let things progress the way they were going, he wouldn’t be in such a state now. But what if she turned him away?

The sensible thing would be to take it slow, especially since she lived right next door, but he didn’t want to take it slow. He wanted to see her again. Regardless of the risks and complications of sleeping with his neighbor, he wanted
her,
and he was no longer going to deny himself. An hour and a half later he was knocking on Carrie’
s door.

“I didn’t know what you liked so I got a little bit of everything,” he said, holding up three bags of Chinese. “
Can we talk?
”

“Talk?” She angled her body toward him. “Only if we can eat, too. It smells great, and I’m starving.”

“Absolutely.” He followed her into the kitchen, and she took the bags from him, her fingers brushing his in the process. He sucked in a breath.

She placed the bags on the table and started to unload them. “Wine or beer?”

“Wine.”

He watched her moving about the kitchen and tried to gauge her mood. Was she embarrassed about earlier, or did she want to forget the food and get down to the kissing part as badly as he did? The way she kept looking at him, stealing glances…was she trying to determine his mood, too? He bit his bottom lip, hungry for a lot more than Chinese.

She handed him two glasses. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

Was he ready to tell her? To say it out loud? To admit that he couldn’t stop thinking about her? Why did she suddenly look so nervous?

“Is it about your project at work? How’s that going?” she asked as she opened a bottle of red and placed it on the table next to the glasses.

Work, now there was a thought that was the equivalent of a cold shower. “We’re getting there. Slowly. The company recently lost a big account so there’s a lot of pressure from the boss to pull this one out.”

“You’
ll do it.
” Along with the plates, she grabbed the silverware, napkins, and servings spoons and carried them to the table.

“But, no. That’s not what I wanted to talk about,” he said, as he sat and loaded his plate.

“Oh?”

“How was your afternoon? Riley give you any trouble?” he asked, stalling. He looked at the dog, who was snoozing in his new bed.

“Not at all. The afternoon just flew by. I processed the pictures I took of him at the park and hung them up on the wall in my office…uh, studio.” She grimaced at the slip. “I’ll show them to you after we’
re done.
”

Ryan pushed his plate back. “
Done.
”

She grinned.
“That was quick. But no, you’re not getting off that easy. Spill.”

He shrugged apologetically. “Okay, the truth is I don’t care about dinner or making small talk. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss all afternoon, and I know the timing isn’t great for either of us, but when is it? I like you, and I’d like to pursue this.” He gestured between them. “And see where it takes us.”

She didn’t say anything, only stood and carried the empty plates into the kitchen, and then picked up the bottle of wine and refilled their glasses. He watched her every move and when her eyes met and held his, his chest lurched. He had to stop himself from pulling her down onto his lap. “I know it’s fast. We just met but I wanted nothing more than to keep kissing you in that wet grass today.”

“Come see the photos.” She held out her hand. He took it and stood.

Wine in hand, he followed her into the second bedroom and perused the pictures she had taped to the wall, wondering if she was going to give him an answer, or continue to leave him hanging. “Riley looks like he had a blast,” he said finally.

She was standing close. Close enough that he could smell her floral shampoo. It made him recall all too easily the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her lips. Her softness. Her heat. “He’s a handful,” he muttered.

She pulled one of the pictures off the wall and handed it to him. “Keep it.”

He looked at the picture of Riley running through the water, several ducks in mid-flight. “It’s really good. You have quite an eye.”

She brightened at the compliment. “
Thanks.
”

He looked around the room, at the desk under the window covered in computer equipment she hadn’t yet hooked up, at the unopened boxes lined up against the far wall.

She followed his gaze. “I’m contemplating putting it all in the garage and making this a studio instead.”

“Not quite ready to let it all go?”

She grinned.
“It’s a process.”

He followed her back into the living room where he sat down on the couch. She refilled their glasses then sat next to him, turning her body so she was fully facing him. He moved just a little bit closer. He couldn’t wait any longer, he had to kiss her.

She stopped him with a hand to his chest. “I like you, Ryan.”

“You do?” he asked, and he had to smile. He’d hoped so. He was close enough to feel her heat, the brush of her breath, to see the ridges of her teeth as she worried her bottom lip. “But?”

“But what happened the other night, today on the grass…it’s all I’ve been able to think about. It was too…”

“I know. Our chemistry—“

“Is unbelievable. Some people never have that.”

Her tongue darted out to moisten those plump, irresistible lips. He shifted even closer, so close their legs were touching.

“
I don
’t usually do that,” she said.

He inched closer. She didn’t pull back. He took that as a good sign and kissed her, tasting, exploring, feeling the chemistry that once more set them ablaze. “Do what?” he asked when he came up for air.

“This.” She pulled him to her again.

They kissed long and hard, even as a little voice warned him to take things slow. She was his neighbor. His dog sitter. Someone he needed to keep things simple with. No attachments. No messy strings. Tread lightly. But it had been too late for that the moment he walked though her door. With his tongue in her mouth—tasting, sparring, devouring—the voice was quashed.

He pulled back, breathless. “Are you sure?” he asked, giving himself that last out, that split second to come to his senses, for them both to walk away. And since he wasn’t strong enough, maybe she…

“Yes,” she insisted, and kissed his jaw, his neck, running her tongue down to his collarbone. Her fingers worked the buttons on his shirt. He sucked in a deep breath. He wanted her so badly, he ached with it. He had ever since he’d first seen her at the wedding. He’d been there to support his co-worker, but instead he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her. And when the rest of his team left, he’d stayed. Their interrupted passion that night had only served to make him hotter for her. Her scent filled him—warm, sweet musk mingling with the floral scent from her hair. There was something between them, something more than incredibly hot chemistry.

And it scared the shit out of him.

He paused, catching his breath, taking in the wildness of her curls, the heavy-lidded passion in her eyes, and then dove back in. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He felt it in her touch. Her kiss. The way she pushed against him. It was an irresistible elixir. Her fingers had undone all his buttons and she was pushing the shirt off his shoulders. Her touch was lighting fire to his nerve endings. He had to have her, to feel her skin against his. To feel her touching and kissing him.
Everywhere
. And then her mouth was on his, taking exactly what she wanted. Meeting him spar for spar. Blood rushed to his groin and he stiffened, growing so hard he was about to burst. He ached with the pain of it, the need. And then her hand was there, on top of him, moving, squeezing, pushing. Easing his torment and increasing it at the same time.

He pushed his hands up under her shirt, running them across her smooth skin. He wanted to feel her. Her heartbeat throbbed under his palm. Her breath captured his need. Her full breasts filled his hands. Their warmth. Their softness. The hard little peaks, tightening beneath his touch. He rubbed them, gently pulling them between his fingers. Leaning back, she pulled her shirt up over her head, yanked off her bra, and bared herself to him.

Her fullness, her perfection made him burn. He dropped his head and pulled a taut nipple into his mouth, sucking, his hand playing with the other. She leaned back, pulling him with her, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She slipped one hand between them, her firm touch stroking his erection through his pants. And then she was fumbling with his buttons, setting him free. He ached for her.

“Carrie,” he breathed, her name a pleading whisper.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.”

He pushed off her and stood. She took his hands in hers and led him down hall, dropping articles of clothing along the way.

“Wait,” he said, and pulled out his wallet, digging through it until he held up the condom. “This time I’m prepared.”

She smiled. “This time there will be no running away.”

…

Carrie knew she should be taking it slow, but she hadn’t wanted anyone like this for so long. She was ready to pull down those walls and let him in. And let herself enjoy this. His mouth covered hers, stealing her ability to think as his tongue worked its magic an
d she lost herself in his kiss. His hands—warm, strong, and attentive—were on her again, removing all doubts.

She liked the feel of him in her bed. The smell of his skin, the heat of his touch. His fingers stroked her in the most exquisite way. It had been so long since she’d shared herself with anyone. Since she let down her guard enough to allow someone to get that close. She’d missed this. She could really get used to it. To him.

But he worked for Stu. She had to tell him the truth—but then his fingers found her sweet spot, rubbing and circling, and set her on fire once again. She was overthinking this. This was casual sex. Really, really good casual sex. They weren’t getting married, for chrissakes. But the truth was, she was going to end up in a dark corner in hell for this. She knew it. And once he found out she knew and didn’t tell him? She’d never have him in her bed again. She sighed. But right then, with his fingers working their magic, heating her blood and stealing her breath, she didn’t care. This was beyond chemistry. It had to be. She barely knew him, and yet she did. He made her feel good. He made her feel like a woman, not a hard-driving machine to be used and thrown away.

She rolled over, lying on top of him, taking his nipple into her mouth. His erection rubbed against her even as she sucked and stroked, and brought a deep moaning gasp from his lips. His hands moved, his fingers slipping easily inside her from behind. She wanted him so bad, she was more than ready for him.

“Are you sure?” he asked again as she leaned forward to kiss his lips.

Could he possibly have any doubt she wasn’t? Or maybe the doubts were his. This was her last chance to come clean. To take a breather and tell him everything. And have him walk away. Could she take that chance? She wanted this, wanted him, more than she’d wanted anything in a very long time.

“Yes,” she whispered, and he rolled her back over. After quickly sheathing himself with the condom, he moved on top of her. His weight was exquisite, his scent all male, all wonderful. She lifted her legs, pulling him in and holding on tight. He entered her slowly. He felt so good, each stroke making her realize what she’d been missing for so long. This connection with another person, this warmth. Each thrust made her want more, and ignited an itch that couldn’t completely be scratched.

She clung to him, her hands sweeping down the smooth skin of his back and stopping on his biceps. They were bulging and hard, like steel encased in velvet. She licked her lips and met him, movement for movement, her back arching, her hips lifting, her fingers grasping as she pulled him deeper and deeper. She breathed deep his rich scent, heady, male. She held the breath inside her, savoring it.

It had been so long since she’d had a man in her bed. But the truth was, she didn’t want any man, she wanted this man. With him she could almost imagine letting go of her fears, her tightly held control, and letting him into her life. His warm hand moved up her stomach to her breast and cupped it, stroking, rubbing his thumb over her nipple as he continued to move within her. He knew just how to touch her, kiss her. His lips found hers and she bit back a moan as his tongue swept into her mouth.

Almost there, almost, yes, right there. Yes. No! Hold back. Make it last
. She was in sweet agony as the pressure within her built to the breaking point. God, he was good. He was perfect—sweet, handsome, loving…She threw her head back and let loose a deep throaty groan as she reached her climax. He held her tight, wrapping his arms around her body, practically lifting her off the bed, burying his head in her hair as he stiffened, cried out, and then found his own release.