The Rebel's Own (Crimson Romance) (5 page)

Kennedy forced herself to be brazen. She hadn’t been with anyone other than Ryan in her life. And since she kept all men at arm’s length, she knew Ryan being her
only
lover was a great possibility. Truthfully, she couldn’t imagine someone else making her feel the way he did. Her hands lifted as his moved hungrily up and down her body.

She felt his cool fingers on her back as he slid the zip of her dress down, sending shivers up her spine.

“Don’t worry. I’ll warm you up.”

Kennedy turned to face him and stared into hooded eyes. Desire burned bright in the dark blue pools as his breaths came heavy and labored. She watched as he shrugged off his jacket and reached for the buttons of his shirt. With each passing second, her nerves frayed further until they finally began to unravel and disintegrate.

His gaze swept her from head to toe, as he pulled off his shirt and begun working on his belt, the burning trail of his eyes warming her body like he was touching her. She watched as his face took on a calculated expression and his eyes narrowed to slits. He swore as he finally set himself free. Kennedy heard the rip of her sheer underwear, and she was turned around to face the night sky. Ryan lifted her thigh and, without any warning, drove himself inside her. She never thought she would like being dominated, but all she wanted was for him to hold her tighter, to drive himself deeper inside her. She wanted it fast and hard. She appreciated that there was no pretense of romance, no conversation. Kennedy didn’t love him and he definitely didn’t love her. She needed the distance, the space to still loathe him.

She gasped as he drove himself into her repeatedly. Her chest clenched, her lungs seizing as her body tingled. She had never felt such powerful pleasure. It seemed to take complete control of her. The orgasm that raked Kennedy’s body almost sent her to her knees. It was a good thing that Ryan was holding onto her. When she felt his hot release spurt into her, she was grateful that he had forgotten one important thing. She laid her hands on the glass afraid that it would break from the force coming from behind her. After all the years of abstaining, Kennedy knew it was worth the wait to experience this with Ryan, even if her motives were wrong. She felt him shudder and relax against her. But before she could move away, he bent suddenly and swept her up, holding her to his chest.

“Which way to the bedroom?”

Kennedy stared at him incredulously. She could say no, she should say no. She’d done what she’d come here for. But the sight of him, the feeling of having his arms around her, so strong and muscular, made her shiver. Without any direct instruction from her mind, her arm lifted, pointing him in the right direction.

Ryan woke up from a heavy sleep. He couldn’t remember ever sleeping so soundly before. His whole body felt relaxed and loose. Having sex with Bailey had managed to release all the stress from of his body.

Ryan reached out and felt only empty space next to him. He opened his eyes and sat up with a start. Where was Bailey? He jumped out of bed and checked the living room and the bathroom, but she wasn’t there either.

His fantasy woman was gone.

He fell back on the bed with a sigh, convincing himself that a relationship would only have ruined the fantasy. But Ryan couldn’t help the feeling that he wanted to see her again, wanted her under him, writhing in pleasure, taking what he gave her. But no, it was best that she remain a fantasy. He was afraid that thinking of Bailey as a tame housewife would kill the animalistic lust that took over each time he thought of her.

When he made his way downstairs and walked past the reception desk, Ryan had to force himself not to stop and ask for Bailey’s contact information before he went home and got cleaned up. Instead, he vowed to let fate handle this one.

If they were meant to meet again, they would.

• • •

Thirty minutes later, Ryan stood under the light spray of his shower, the warm water kneading into his already soft muscles. He felt a pull in his lower abdomen as his penis grew painfully erect, as he thought of how he took Bailey. The sound of her lace underwear tearing in his eager hands, the gasp of shock when he buried himself deep inside her, the smell of her arousal, the taste of her orgasm, the silky, velvety feel of her skin beneath his fingertips, the way her body moved with greedy need, under him, over him and in front of him. He had taken her so many times in so many different ways, that some of those positions were new to him before last night.

A pang of guilt raked over him when he realized how possessive and how excessive his need had been for her. But Bailey hadn’t complained, she’d soared with him and they’d let out their cries of release together. Nothing except football had felt so right before in his life. His hand froze before his fingers could curl around his rigid member for release. He had emptied every bit of himself inside her. There was no barrier between them last night.

Fear struck him like a bolt of lightning. What if that was what she wanted all along? Could Bailey have trapped him into getting her pregnant only to come and collect money from him later? His throat closed over the very thought. No, he shook his head furiously in denial, as if he could shake the troublesome idea clear out of it. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. But the sweet passion of the memory grew darker with bitterness and fury. He was an idiot—an idiot who had been trapped.

Ryan was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Clara walk into the bathroom. The translucent shower door opened suddenly and a fuming blonde stood in front of him holding out a scrap of paper.

“What is this?”

Ryan looked at her, confused. “I don’t know, you tell me. You have it in your hand.”

Her jaw clenched she unfolded the note, “
Rebel, meet me where we first met. I won’t be wearing any panties. B.
Who the fuck is B?”

Ryan leaned back on the wall, a giddy giggle escaping his lips. His hand lay on his chest as the giggle turned into a chuckle then to a bellow of laughter. He didn’t know what made him happier, that Bailey wasn’t trying to trap him or that she wasn’t going to be wearing any panties for their next meeting. His frozen heart thawed out.

He stepped out of the shower, tying a towel around his waist. “What time does it say?”

“What?”

He regretted asking when he saw her face burn crimson. He reached out for the piece of paper but she stepped back. Annoyed Ryan reached out again, but this time Clara turned around and flushed the piece of paper down the toilet.

“There, now you won’t know when to meet her,” she said, with a smug smile.

Ryan stared at her. His voice was a low bark as rage burned through him and he said, “I’ll have someone pick up my things by the end of the day. You better find someone else to leech off of, because I won’t be paying your bills anymore. You can keep the car; I don’t want anything that will remind me of you around me.”

“You can’t leave!”

“I need to change this excuse of a life I’m living. You need to change too.” Ryan rolled his eyes as he walked into the bedroom. He waited for Clara to come up with a list of why he shouldn’t leave her crazy behind. He pulled a pair of jeans and a T-shirt on. He turned to face Clara and could see her trying to master every tear duct in her eyes to release a drop of moisture. “Don’t cry. We both know you aren’t capable of emotion.”

“I’m pregnant,” she announced.

Ryan took a step back, the news hitting him like a ton of bricks. He opened and shut his mouth in surprise, lost at what to say. He watched her, curiously and suspiciously. But then his mind recovered and the wheel in his brain started to turn, “Really? You were drinking last night.”

“I only found out this morning,” Clara fired back, her retort sharp.

“Where is the test?” Ryan stalked towards her, his eyes never leaving hers, searching for a sign of deceit on her face.

“I threw it out.” Clara flipped her hair and stood her ground.

Her act of defiance almost made him believe her. But then Ryan remembered whom he was dealing with. “We need to go to a doctor and have it confirmed.”

“I don’t like hospitals.”

“When did that happen? Before or after your boob job? Or was it your nose job?” Huffing with a hard impatient sigh, Ryan grabbed her arm and forced her towards the living room. “I am taking you to a hospital. Unless you want to tell me the truth before we get there.” Clara turned her nose up at him, as if she was daring him to drag her unwillingly to the doctor. She was challenging him, and he could tell. Cautious not to inflict any harm just in case she was telling the truth, Ryan lifted her into his arms and walked out of the apartment to the elevator. Clara hadn’t said anything yet, but he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Nothing yet?”

When they got to the front desk, Ryan could see the swarm of paparazzi through the clear glass doors. Clara craved attention, now this was her chance to have them eating out of her hands, of giving them something they’d been craving for years. “Maybe we should share the news of your pregnancy with your pals. Then later we can show them the doctor’s report.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she cried out.

Ryan felt her shrinking within her body, and he immediately knew he had won. He hated treating women like this; his mother had definitely taught him better. But he was still carrying the High School Ryan Carville inside him, and that was the only reason he was capable of such disrespect.

“Are you pregnant, yes or no?” Ryan stared her down, but Clara did not confess. He set her down on the floor and dragged her towards the front door.

“Stop! I’m not pregnant. Not yet, anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His heart froze in his chest as his mouth tightened into a thin dangerous line.

“I want your baby, Ryan.” Her fingers played with the hem of his shirt, as her little girl voice assaulted his ears. She used this voice when she wanted something from him, but this time she wasn’t going to get it.

He pushed her hands away and took a step back. Lowering his head to her ear, he declared, “Well, I don’t want yours.”

Ryan turned around and walked away, leaving a stunned Clara staring after him. He dug out his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

“The day is today, Matt. Have someone move my stuff out of Clara’s apartment.”

“Hey, sweet pea.” Kennedy cuddled her tiny son into her side. She buried her nose in his hair and inhaled, then covered his face with kisses. She waited for the normal complaints that he wasn’t a baby anymore and was too old for kisses, but they never came. Riley snuggled next to her, trying to get even closer rather then further away. Her heart broke knowing the pain he must be feeling.

Maybe her mother was right; maybe she’d gone at this whole thing the wrong way. She would have to wait nine months—
if
she even got pregnant—before the cord blood could be harvested to help Riley, but asking Ryan to donate could happen in an instant with just a phone call.

Not now, though. He thought she was Bailey and hadn’t even recognized her. She was too far in to back out now.

“How is he?” Rebecca asked, concern scribbled all over her face.

“Mommy will be right back.” Kennedy gave her little boy a quick kiss and stepped out of the room with her mother, “It’s like he’s withering away every second. I can’t take it, Mama. If I lose him, I think I’ll die.”

“Hush! Don’t talk like that. Besides, he’s not withering. He’s just weak from the medication.” Rebecca took Kennedy’s hand. “Maybe you should consider telling Ryan. Try and convince him to donate his bone marrow to Riley and help with the expenses. We need his help, Kennedy.”

“I’ll tell him the truth. I’m meeting him later on today.” She peeked into her bedroom and couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped her. The sight of her usually rambunctious son looking so weak bit down hard on her. Her pride and pain had to take a backseat to Riley’s life. It didn’t matter if Ryan hated her in the end, if he thought she was trying to get revenge. He was going to discover that he had a son. A son who was dying and needed him to act like a responsible man and not like a high school boy.

• • •

“How long do you plan on waiting here?” Matt asked.

Ryan could see his friend had written him off as crazy. But what could he say? He’d had the best sex in his life and he was waiting for round two? Only a crazy man would walk away from Bailey. “For as long as it takes. Did you get all my stuff?”

“Yeah, we moved it to your house. I can’t believe you didn’t tell Clara about the gigantic mansion you bought when you proposed.”

“She would have just laughed in my face. Years ago, when I bought it, she was the woman I wanted to marry. Now, she is just my past. If I asked her to marry me now, she would agree only because of the status. She never loved me or believed in me. I was a silly kid back then.” A slow smile stretched his lips. He couldn’t imagine how lucky he was. Thank God Clara had said no, that she hadn’t set foot in his house.

Ryan had one more thing to thank God for: Bailey. She didn’t know how much change she had been instrumental in effecting in his life. He was determined to show her how thankful he was if she ever walked into the hotel.

“What are you thinking about?”

Ryan let out a nervous laugh. Matt knew who he was thinking about. He tried to control his thoughts of Bailey, because having a boner in public would be embarrassing at his age.

“If you were thinking about a sexy nymphomaniac named Bailey, she’s right behind you,” Matt nodded. Ryan turned around, too fast for his own good. His glass of red wine flew out of his hands and landed on the Persian carpet, the liquid soaking into the expensive threads. As Ryan stared down at the spreading stain, and a pair of homely black leather shoes came into view. He looked up at the equally homely woman who wore them, no doubt in his mind that she was the hotel manager. He flashed a nervous smile that disappeared quickly under her glare.

A light giggle pierced through the awkward silence, forcing Ryan to pull away from the intense glare the manager was giving him. He saw Bailey and, with quick strides, closed the distance between them.