Roughing It With Ryan

He opened the front hook on her bra and peeled that material away, too, letting out a deep heartfelt groan at the sight revealed. Cupping her in his hands, he used his thumbs to trace the underside of the heavy curves, lightly, so lightly.

Her nipples went even harder. Her hips involuntarily thrust upward.

Then he danced his fingers over her nipples, making her let out a horribly needy sound from deep in her throat. “Ryan…”

“I know.” Bending his head, he pulled a hard tip into his mouth, using first his tongue, then his teeth on her, until she made the sound again.

By the time he drew her in deep and sucked, she was practically sobbing his name. Barely remembering she’d started this, that she was supposedly taking advantage of him, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed against that most interesting hard bulge there.

He answered by popping her breast free, then staring down at the wet nipple while tracing it with his thumb. “You’re so soft. So perfect.” While he said this, he bunched up her dress to her waist, not difficult since it was lightweight and loose and gauzy.

It gave her a bad moment, wondering if he preferred skinny women, and she tried to suck in her stomach, but he let out such a genuine sigh at the sight of her, she instantly forgot about her imperfections.

His hands slid inside the back of her panties, cupping her bottom, pressing her even closer so that she could feel exactly what this little interlude had done to him.

Just thinking about it, feeling him rock against the neediest part of her body, made her weak and trembly. She was close, so very unbelievably close, and he’d hardly touched her. But her toes were already curling, and she had to, had to have more. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she bit his lower lip and said in a shaky voice she hardly recognized as her own. “Please, Ryan.”

“Whatever you want,” he promised hoarsely.

And then the lights came on.

8

ONCE AGAIN Ryan stood in his shower, trying to relieve some tension. This time it was sexual tension.

It had been over a week since he’d first set eyes on Suzanne. He had no idea how long a guy could walk around with an erection without having his parts fall off, but he was thinking it couldn’t be too much longer.

Damn, his brothers had bad timing, getting the electricity back on just as he’d gotten his hands inside Suzanne’s panties, and a glorious breast in his mouth.

Just one more minute, one more, and he’d have been buried deep in her sweet, hot body.

Instead, the lights had blared on, jarring them both. Suzanne had jerked, staring at him wide-and wild- eyed.

Wanting to soothe, wanting to get back to that mindless pleasure they’d shared, Ryan had leaned in, only to have her slap a hand to his chest and shake her head.

Dress bunched around her waist and tugged off her shoulders, she’d dragged in a shuddering breath. Her nipples had been tight, and wet from his mouth. Her panties, stretched over her mound and bared to him by her opened legs, had been wet, too, and just thinking about it made him hard all over again.

“Ryan?” Angel pounded on his bathroom door.

In typical brotherly fashion, he cranked the hot water back up and ignored her.

“I’ve got dinner cooking for you, okay?”

Ah, hell. He turned off the water.

“And don’t forget, that woman Rafe set you up with? The…‘hot chick’ I think he said? Anyway, she called just now to say she’d pick you up. Gotta run now, late for class. Bye!”

“What? Wait!” Wrapping a towel around his hips he opened the bathroom door just in time to hear the front door slam. “Angel?”

Of course she didn’t come back, it was her mission in life to screw with his.

But…what woman? Vaguely he remembered Rafe telling him he’d met someone who’d be “perfect” for him, but having heard that too many times to count, he’d just nodded and ignored him.

It was his job as big brother to ignore his siblings when they talked too much.

But now he had a bad feeling he’d ignored something important. If he had some hot date, he’d like to know about it.

But good, bad or “perfect,” no woman came to his door that night.

LATE THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Suzanne sat on the front steps of Taylor’s building, watching life go by, pretending not to stare at Ryan, once again shirtless and hard at work.

He was nearly finished with the trees.

Soon he’d go off to the next job, wherever that might be, and she was fine with that. More than fine.

So why, then, did her heart squeeze just watching him work?

Simple, pure, unadulterated physical reaction to a gorgeous man, she decided, a man intense and sweaty and hard at work. There was nothing sexier than that.

But she was becoming deathly afraid that much of it had nothing to do with sex, or even lust.

With a sigh, she straightened the newspaper in her hands with a little shake and buried her nose in the want ads. A catering job here and there wasn’t good enough. She needed her regimentation.

Just ask her mother.

With another sigh, she circled a chef position at a restaurant only a few blocks over, then looked up as a shadow fell over her.

“Hey,” said the voice that never failed to make her stomach flip-flop. Ryan’s long, hard body stood right in front of her, so that her head was perfectly level with the juncture at the top of his thighs, and the most fascinating spot between them-

“Whatcha doing?”

She jerked her gaze back to the paper. “Reading.”

“The want ads?”

“Funny thing, how attracted I am to having a positive balance in my bank account.”

A finger hooked into the paper, pulled it down, exposing a curious, interested, gorgeously rumpled Ryan. What was it about a sweaty man?

“What about the catering gig?” he asked.

She was careful to keep her gaze averted. “It’s just a hobby.”

“It’s more than that.”

“No, really it’s just a hobby. Sure I’ve had more contacts and jobs lately, but I’m not into my own business.” A tad too much regimentation there. “It’s a good hobby.” She circled another chef ad. The only other one in the paper.

“Just don’t give up,” he said with a fierceness that surprised her into looking up past his long, long legs and what lay between, all the way up to his deeply passionate expression.

“I won’t,” she said with some surprise. Funny how the thought of not doing her catering didn’t sit well. “I wouldn’t.”

“Good.” He pulled on his shirt. Uncapping a water bottle, he sat at her side, leaned back on one elbow and tipped back his head to drink.

His Adam’s apple, such an utterly male thing, bobbed with each swallow. His light blue T-shirt clung to his damp, overworked body. His powerful denim-clad legs were stretched out in front of him, his booted feet crossed in utter relaxation.

A long sigh escaped him as he finished off the water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s good.”

What was good was how he looked. She wanted to lick the last drop off his bottom lip. Down, girl. “You’re done for the day?”