Katee Robert - In Bed with Mr. Wrong

Oh my God. He’s been trying to take care of me all along.

Since she didn’t know how to deal with that, she accepted the mug with a murmured “Thanks” and decided it was wiser to stay silent. She could get used to watching Ryan in the kitchen. He put together three sandwiches, cut them in half, and arranged them on two plates.

“Are chips okay?”

The strange feeling inside her intensified. The fact that he had her all out of sorts over a simple question about chips only went on to demonstrate how pathetic her history was. “Yes.”

“Good.” He came over and set a plate on the coffee table in front of her before retreating to his couch and systematically devouring his sandwiches. Ryan ate with the kind of single-mindedness of someone who’d gone hungry before enough times to know when to appreciate the presence of food.

She understood. His father had been pretty freaking neglectful if Ryan was forced to learn to cook to fend for himself. Even growing up with Drew, his basic needs hadn’t been met any more than hers had.

“Are you going to eat?”

Bri jumped, realizing she’d been staring at him so long he’d finished his food. “Yes. Thank you.”

“So polite when you want to be.” He smiled. “Do you need more tea?”

It’d only now cooled down to an acceptable drinking temperature. “I think I’m okay.”

After one last look at her, he leaned back and propped his feet on the arm of the couch. Ryan opened the book and draped the brown-and-pink ribboned bookmark over the pillow next to him. Seeing feminine things like ribbons in his wide hands was ridiculous. And absolutely adorable. “Where were we? Oh yes, Dmitri has Savannah pressed against the wall, bracketed by his arms. Does that sound familiar?”

She glanced over sharply, but he didn’t seem to be insinuating anything. Which meant comparing this scene to the one that had played out in the hallway last night rested solely on her shoulders. She brought her knees to her chest, suddenly not nearly as hungry as she’d thought. It didn’t matter who was reading it or what the character’s history was—this book was just fiction.

“Dmitri leaned in until his lips rested against her throat. It should have been terrifying having this massive man so close, and there was a healthy dose of fear running through Savannah, but desire beat a steady drum, a siren call she wasn’t sure he could resist.

“‘Tell me. Tell me what you want.’

“‘You. All of you.’ Everything he had.

“His hands ran down her shoulders to cup her hips. A deft move and her dress was up around her thighs, baring her for his pleasure.”

Bri froze with her cup halfway to her lips. God, they weren’t even to the truly dirty parts and she was already having difficulty breathing. Ryan’s voice woke all sorts of longings she didn’t know what to do with. No, that wasn’t true. The problem was she knew all too well what to do with them.

“Is there something wrong?”

She jumped, nearly spilling tea all down her front. “Not in the least.”

“Really? You’re not even remotely turned on by this?”

This was exactly what she’d been afraid of when he took the book from her. She took another drink of tea to buy herself time, hoping it would cover up the tremor in her voice. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I am.” He lifted the book, drawing her gaze south to where his level of desire was all too evident.

“But they haven’t even done anything yet. He’s barely touched her.” Why was she arguing this? What did it matter if he was turned on as a result of something practically PG?

Ryan folded the corner of the page, raising his eyebrows when she made a protesting noise at his treatment of the book. “Want to know why I’m turned on?”

Even though she knew better, she nodded.

“It’s because I’m picturing us in that position and I’m remembering how good you smell, and how things progressed from there, which has turned to thinking about how damn amazing your mouth feels around my cock.”

Oh God. Bri jumped to her feet, sending her tea mug flying. She spun on her heel, nearly tripped over the corner of the coffee table. That slowed her down enough to realize that she was letting him win by running away. The realization didn’t kill the urge, but she was able to stop moving and turn to face him. “You’re not nearly funny as you think you are.”

“Honey, I’m as serious as a heart attack.”

He was messing with her, just like he had been from the beginning. He had to be. But she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “But you think I’m mousy.” Even as the words came out of her mouth, she cursed herself for giving him that much.

Ryan set the book down and pushed to his feet. He actually seemed pained as he skirted the edge of the coffee table and came to stand before her. “I swear to God, Bri, I’m sorry that I ever said that. You’re the furthest thing from mousy.”

Childhood instinct demanded she lash out before he saw just how badly those earlier words had hurt her, but Bri forced it down for the first time in her life. She couldn’t keep striking out at him blindly just to keep him from getting too close. Like it or not, he was already there.

But that didn’t mean he felt the same way. She licked her lips. “You seemed pretty convinced it was the truth that first night.”

“I lied.”

While she was still trying to process that bombshell, he reached out and traced her bottom lip with his thumb. She went still, waiting for the inevitable follow-through. He would kiss her and it would be all over.

Ryan surprised her, though. He took a large step back. “How do you feel about Scrabble?”

Not taking advantage of that silently offered kiss might have been a mistake, but Ryan wasn’t about to give in to how badly he wanted her. Not when she hadn’t figured out her issues and he couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t toss him aside immediately afterward so she could retreat behind her emotional walls. He guided her back to the spot on the couch she’d just occupied, picked up the fallen tea mug and plate of sandwiches, and retreated to the kitchen.

While he went to work throwing together another sandwich for her, she looked over her shoulder at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Sure I do. You dumped half your tea on the other one. Can’t have you passing out halfway through our game.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Scrabble.”

“Scrabble. Monopoly. Cards. We don’t have a lot in the way of options, but I figured you’d want a change in pace from the reading.” Ryan gave her a grin that had gotten him out of loads of trouble as a kid. “Though I could definitely get on board with some more Dmitri and Savannah.”

“No, thank you.”

“So a game it is, then.” When she still hesitated, he pushed his advantage. “It’s got to be better than locking yourself in the room alone, right?”

She smiled a little, as if that was exactly what she’d been planning on doing before he headed her off at the pass. “It’s a tempting offer.”

“I’ll throw in dinner tonight, too.” He lifted the plate with her new sandwich. “I promise not to bite.” No matter how much you want me to.

A blush spread across her cheeks, signaling that her mind had gone the same place his did. He didn’t call her on it, though. Instead he grabbed the board game and sat down, pausing long enough to pass over her plate.

He started setting up the game, but the majority of his attention stayed on her as she took her first bite. “I promise to go easy on you. You know, in favor of us continuing to get along without fighting.”

“You’ll go easy on me?” Her faint smile turning into the real thing. “Promise?”

He decided he liked this little hint of arrogance she’d showed. He mixed up the letter tiles. “Want to make this interesting?”

“Don’t you dare say we’ll turn this into strip Scrabble.”

Well, now that she mentioned it, that wasn’t a terrible idea. No, Flannery. You’re supposed to be behaving yourself, remember? That means clothing stays in place. “I was thinking something more along the lines of a wager.”

“A bet?” If anything, her smile spread wider. “Winner takes all?”

She really wasn’t helping his self-control saying things like that with a sparkle in her eyes, because now all he could think about was taking her. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking of something a little less dramatic. If I win, you tell me about your childhood.”

Bri flinched, her teasing disappearing as if it’d never been. “I don’t see the point.”

In their earlier conversation, he’d seen a sliver of what she’d been hiding. It was clear she wasn’t giving up more than that tiny bit of information without a fight. “That’s what I want if I win. Your turn.”

“This is juvenile.”

“Maybe. Stop stalling and pick something.”

“I don’t even know.” Her face flamed again, showing her lie more clearly than anything else could have.

Ryan leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He waited as she shifted, becoming more twitchy as the seconds ticked past. When she looked over her shoulder toward the hallway, he said, “Anything you want.”

She closed her eyes for a brief moment and then opened them, her shoulders going back as if she were stepping onto a battlefield. Maybe she thought she was. “I want a kiss.”

Because of the effort it had obviously taken her to say the words out loud, he didn’t laugh. He held out a hand and shook hers firmly. “Deal. If you win, I think I can make that happen.”

“If I win.” This time her laugh was significantly more carefree. “Ryan, you’re playing Scrabble with a librarian who thinks a fun Friday night is curling up with some tea and a new book. You don’t stand a chance.”