Elisabeth Naughton - Wait for Me

She turned to leave, but he crossed the floor, grasped her arm, and whirled her around before she could get away. “My wife? That’s a laugh. Yesterday you didn’t want to have anything to do with being my wife, and now, when it’s convenient and you can use it, you throw it in my face?”

“Take your hands off me.”

“Or what?” He backed her against the wall, his height a looming advantage, more than evident to her at the moment. “If you’re my wife, don’t I have the right to touch you? Or are you the only one with rights around here? There’s a whole slew of reporters downstairs. Why don’t you just run down and tell them what an ass I am. They’re looking for something else to print about me.”

The heat from his hands all but burned the skin of her arm beneath her jacket. A dark fire brewed in his eyes, a hint of danger. Her pulse quickened, her senses peaked when she caught a whiff of his musky cologne.

She wasn’t attracted to arrogant, domineering men. She wasn’t. Not at all.

So why was her heart thumping wildly in her chest?

“Let go of me,” she said with as much calm as she could muster.

His jaw tightened. His eyes locked on hers. Long seconds passed as he stared at her. And in the silence, that connection she’d felt to him in the park flared hot all over again, dousing her anger and filling her with regret.

“Damn it.” He let go. Turned away.

She grabbed his arm. “Ryan.”

His whole expression softened when he looked back at her. And something in that look shot straight to her heart—a feeling she wasn’t prepared for or even expecting.

“Oh, hell.” His hands tangled in her hair as he pulled her mouth toward his. Those tempting lips crushed over hers. His tongue, rough and hot, dipped into her mouth when she opened. She reached for him before she even realized what she was doing, grasped his arms at the elbows. Dark flashes of arousal coursed through her, erupted in her center, spread through every limb and nerve ending.

He pressed her back against the wall, changed the angle of the kiss, took her deeper. The contrast in textures blew her mind—hard and firm against her hips, soft and sensual at her mouth. Need pumped through her, shooting spears of heat through her entire body.

She didn’t think to push away, only wanted more. More of his touch. More of his mouth. More of his wicked body pressing into hers. She trembled when his hands combed through her hair, streaked down her shoulders and arms to grasp her waist. Her skin tingled with each touch, every caress.

Those delicious lips trailed the line of her jaw, pulling a moan from her chest. She threaded her hands into his hair, the silky blond strands wrapping around her fingers. Dropping her head back, she offered him her throat. Shivered when his lips moved down her neck.

More, more, more. The words pounded in her brain, tightened her breasts, spread heat straight to her sex. An ache pulsed between her legs, one that needed to be filled. One that needed him to fill it. He fumbled with her jacket, thrust it over her shoulders, trapping her arms at her sides. The buttons on her blouse gave one by one; the front clasp on her bra popping open with little effort.

He eased back just far enough to look down, and a moan slipped from his lips. A moan laced with hunger. Kate’s skin tingled as he stared at her, and her nipples puckered when his hands moved over her breasts, teasing, molding, taking.

She wanted him. Needed this. When his mouth found hers again, she opened on reflex, drew him deep, tangled her tongue with his, and groaned when she felt the hard length of his erection press against her lower belly.

“I can’t believe how good you feel,” he murmured against her lips, his fingers rolling her nipples, sending shock waves of pleasure between her legs. “I’d forgotten what you taste like.”

She struggled against him, finally freed her arms and yanked the shirt from the waistband of his slacks. She needed to touch, wanted that sizzle of skin against skin.

“More,” she said against his lips, kissing him again and again. Common sense fled. Fire raced along her skin when he lifted her leg around his hip, when his hands hiked up her skirt, when his fingers brushed her mound.

Not enough. She had to have skin, needed heat.

He was wearing too many clothes. Dammit, she couldn’t get at him fast enough. She fumbled with his belt, then the button on his slacks while his mouth ravaged hers again. He stroked his fingers across her panties. His hips pressed into hers, his cock hard and pulsing against her. A promise of everything she wanted and needed and hadn’t realized she’d craved.

An irritating pounding sounded somewhere close.

She lifted her leg higher, rubbed against him. Moaned when tingles spread through her lower body.

“Kate?” Simone’s muffled voice echoed through the room. “Mitch is here with your parents. Is everything okay?”

No, dammit. Definitely not okay. Go away.

“Ignore her,” Ryan mumbled, kissing her jaw, her ear, her throat as he slid his fingers beneath the edge of her panties, so close to her heat.

“Kate?” Simone knocked again.

Dammit.

Kate’s head rolled back and hit the wall. Ryan’s hand stilled and his lips hovered against her neck. Long seconds passed in silence, then he dropped his face against her shoulder and let go of her leg, bracing his hands on the wall behind her.

She didn’t want to let go. She didn’t want to face reality. She trailed her fingers through his silky hair, trying to hang on to the moment.

“Kate?” Simone knocked once more.

“Answer her,” Ryan murmured.

Kate swallowed, struggling to breathe. “Yeah, I…I’ll be right out.”

“Okay,” Simone said.

“Jesus,” Ryan said. “I feel like I’m twenty-two again and your parents just walked in on us.”

“Did that happen?”

“More than once.”

“Oh, great. Now I’m going to have that in my mind when I meet them.”

His lips were but a breath from her skin, and as she felt his chest vibrate, she realized he was chuckling. It was a good feeling. A warm feeling. An I-didn’t-expect-this-but-I-only-want-more-of-it feeling.

But he pushed himself away before she could have more. And in his absence, her skin chilled with the reality of what they’d just done.

“Ryan.”

He stopped halfway to the bathroom, held his hands out to show her he wasn’t nearly as under control as he needed to be either. “I don’t think your parents need to see me like this.”

If his features hadn’t been cool and guarded once more, she might have laughed. Instead, her eyes slid shut as he closed the bathroom door. The room was suddenly too big, her skin too cold, and he’d just pulled up those damn walls again.

Had she really almost slept with Ryan Harrison after the way he’d just treated her? She cringed. No, sleeping with him implied something a bit more tender, a tad more intimate. What she’d almost done was let him screw her against the wall while his employees waited for him in the other room.

Way to go, Kate. So much for that resolve not to get sucked into combustible chemistry.

Considering her purse was out in the living room, she did the best she could with her appearance. She finger-combed her hair and wiped away her streaked makeup, then re-buttoned her shirt. Smoothing out her skirt, she checked her reflection one last time.

Her hair was one big tangled mess. Her lipstick was gone, and she had a sinking suspicion Simone would take one look at her and know exactly what had been going on in the bedroom while she and the other lawyers waited on the opposite side of the door.

Was she a complete moron?

Oh, yeah. It appeared so.

She ran her hands across her face, wished it would wipe away her stupidity. Unfortunately for her, it did nothing but remind her how sensitive her skin still was from Ryan’s mouth. She was fully aware of his reputation as a womanizer and a heartless bastard. And hadn’t he just proved it to her?

She smoothed out her hair one last time and lifted her chin. The key word in all of that was almost. Now that she was in control again, she could keep it from becoming an absolute foregone conclusion. Fate had stepped in and spared her this time. Next time, she’d be a little more cautious and a hell of a lot stronger against his advances.

Dammit. She chastised herself. There wouldn’t be a next time. She wasn’t going to become one of Ryan Harrison’s little bimbos, even if she was his wife.

Kate was wrong when she assumed it was Simone’s wary gaze she’d have to avert. When she stepped into the living room of the suite, Mitch was leaning against a bar stool alone. His head came up when he saw her, his eyes as fiery as she’d ever seen them.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Lovely. This so wasn’t what she needed right now. Thankfully, the suits were gone and her parents were nowhere to be seen.

Kate held up her hands to stop him from going into the bedroom. “Mitch, let it go. I’ve already had to deal with one irate man today, I can’t take another.”

“He’s being an ass, isn’t he? We heard the press conference in the car on the way over, but it doesn’t give him the right to treat you like this.”

“I can handle Ryan. I’m not some wimpy girl. Where are your…my…our parents?”

“Simone took them in the other room so they didn’t have to listen to World War III.”

Kate’s eyes slid shut. Great. Just great. Their first impression of her would be her screaming at her husband.