Unlikely (11 page)

He cupped one breast in his palm, using his thumb to delicately stroke the hard nubbin at the center. He slid the other hand between them and gently stroked her clitoris, slick with her arousal. Her moans stopped as she held her breath in anticipation.

“Breathe,” he whispered fiercely.

A few deep breaths later, Sophie came with a keening cry. He had a screamer on his hands. If Ryan hadn’t been aroused to the point of pain, he would have pumped his fist in the air and whooped with satisfaction. He felt that triumphant.

Before Sophie’s ardor cooled, Ryan changed their positions so that she was beneath him. He quickly sheathed himself and
at her nod, entered her. He almost came apart when he felt her inner muscles squeeze him, still quaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm. With her lips swollen from their kisses and her hair askew, she looked so thoroughly satisfied, and he felt himself grow even harder.

Ryan kept his strokes slow, rekindling the fire of her desire. He kissed her again until her eyes glazed over, and stroked each nipple until she tossed her head from side to side. Reaching between them again, he stroked her hard, desire
-slick clitoris until she screamed a second time, and only then did he allow himself to pump furiously, roaring as his own orgasm pulsed through him.

He withdrew from her achingly slowly, both of them reluctant to break their bond, and took care
cleaning up. When he came back, she was laying on the rug nude, robe abandoned, with a smug, self-satisfied smile.

“That was great. Can we do it again?” Sophie asked cheekily.

“Oh, honey, I’m not eighteen anymore,” he said, making himself comfortable in front of the fire.

He grabbed her hand
, intertwining their fingers. His hands swallowed hers, but it didn’t stop him from noticing that one of her perfectly manicured fingernails was chipped. It was an endearing imperfection. The sex between them had been good, especially for her this time. But this, lying here quietly just holding her hand, was pretty special too. The feeling of warmth and contentment arrowed straight to his groin.

Sophie didn’t miss a thing. She looked at his cock, which was coming back to life in spite of his words. “I think your body disagrees.”

Sophie woke up to the smell of bacon. For a few disoriented moments she didn’t remember falling asleep or where she was. The crackling fire and half-naked man in the kitchen swiftly brought her back to reality. Clad only in well
-fitting boxers and an apron,
Ryan was clanging pots and pans, ostensibly preparing a late night meal for them. After she scouted her kimono, she pulled on the silk robe and belted it tightly. She grabbed the wineglasses and made her way to the kitchen counter. She sat and watched Ryan’s lithe movements as he moved through the kitchen, seemingly at home. The dog sat on the braided kitchen rug, ears erect, watching Ryan’s every movement.

“What’s for dinner?” Sophie asked.

“Spaghetti carbonara,” he said, working quickly to add pasta, eggs, and cheese to bacon he had sautéed, and before she knew it, plates of steaming food appeared on the counter. Ryan handed her a napkin and utensils, before doffing the apron. He leaned toward her, and she pulled back reflexively, looking down at the smooth front of her silk kimono.

“Did I drop something?” she asked, her eyes roaming her lap.

Ryan colored. “I was going to kiss you. That’s all.”

Sophie sat mute. “Oh,” was all she finally said, feeling uneasy with him again. They were sitting here like civilized people when they’d just done the naked mambo hours before. He’d seen her
exposed. He’d heard her come. She wanted him to kiss her, but she also wished to disappear into the floor. Would these feelings ever go away?

He came around and sat next to her. Awkwardness aside, Sophie didn’t realize how hungry she’d become. Rather than look at Ryan, and risk him seeing her embarrassment, she dug into the meal with gusto.

“This is good,” she complimented. “What else do you make?”

Ryan shrugged. “Mostly pasta dishes. My mother didn’t cook much and my brother and I taught ourselves to make quick, filling meals.”

Sophie looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. They were getting into the forbidden “relationship” territory. Part of her wanted to know more about his family, but it invited intimacies she didn’t necessarily want to return. Unfortunately, her brain didn’t have quick enough control over her mouth and she blurted out her question before she could censor her thoughts.

“Did your mom volunteer a lot or work at a job or something?”

Ryan’s eyes grew flat. “My mom cleaned other people’s houses.”

Trying to overcome the uneasiness she felt, Sophie immediately filled the silence with another question. “What about your dad?”

He took his empty plate from the counter and made a noisy production of loading the dishwasher and scrubbing pots and pans. “My dad worked on the line at The Brewery until he was killed in an accident there.” Sophie barely heard him above the clang of the water hitting metal. His face was turned away. She could only guess at what he was feeling.

“I’m sorry,” Sophie said so softly she wasn’t sure he heard. His family was as different from hers as night was from day. Her family had always had one housekeeper or another who came twice a week to “do the heavy work” as her mother called it. She’d never cleaned a toilet or mopped a floor until she was in her twenties, out on her own.

When the water shut off, Ryan spoke. “It’s not the answer you expected, was it?”

“It’s rare that parents of people our age have died. I’m sorry to hear it,” she said, dodging the other issue. She knew that she’d grown up with more advantages than most in the affluent Los Angeles suburb of San Marino. She generally avoided the topic since she had left the privileged social circles her parents and sister still circulated in. Her coworkers were generally hourly union workers like herself, but they lived paycheck to paycheck. She knew she’d started out ahead of the game and had some savings to buffer her through hard times and emergencies. Despite the difficult relationship with her parents, she always knew in the back of her mind she could count on them if things ever got really difficult for her.

Sophie picked up her empty plate and joined him at the sink. She didn’t want to care about him like this, but something deep within her wanted to reach out and soothe away Ryan’s lingering pain of growing up without money or both parents. She lowered her husky voice a full octave. “Why don’t we bank the fire and go to bed?” There was no question of them taking up separate bedrooms at this point.

He looked down at her, his eyes at half-mast, full of renewed sensual hunger. “Now that’s a good idea.”

Sophie woke with Ryan’s broad muscular back dominating her vision. The bedcovers had slipped to his waist, and she was rewarded with inches of touchable flawless skin. She resisted the urge to trace its well-muscled contours. Her hand firmly at her side, she roamed him with her eyes from the too-long hair, the silky blond curls resting at the strong column of his neck, to the indentation of his spine that arrowed straight to the firm muscular butt, which she could only imagine under the covers. Her stomach dipped when she thought of last night. It had been incredible. She could finally see how fulfilling sex could be addictive. Already she craved more of him to satisfy a growing itch she’d studiously ignored all these years.

She was so deep in thought, she was startled to hear Ryan speak. He’d turned in her direction without her notice.

“Good morning, Sunflower,” he said, his voice roughened by sleep. He smiled lazily and hooked a finger on the blanket and sheet pulling the covers down to her waist, so she too was laid bare from the waist up. She felt naked and exposed to his gaze. There had been no thought of foraging for her pajamas among her luggage when they’d finally gone to bed last night. Putting on more clothes had been the last thing on her mind. She tried not to be self-conscious as he gazed at her in the bright morning light, filtered only by gauzy curtains covering the floor to ceiling windows. Neither of them had thought to pull the heavy drapes the night before.

Sophie couldn’t figure out where to put her shaky hands before Ryan noticed. He didn’t miss a beat, though.

“You nervous?” he asked. When she nodded gravely, he continued. “Why?”

She gestured toward the windows. “It’s kind of bright in here.”

He glanced at her breasts, causing her nipples to peak. He smiled devilishly. “I like it that way.”

Sophie glanced at the bedroom door. “Should we check on the dog, let her out, feed her?”

“Shhh. She’ll be fine for a little bit,” he said laying a single square
-tipped finger across her lips. “It’s early yet.” He traced that same finger down the side of her neck, across her shoulders, and circled her protruding areola.

“I can’t believe you don’t know how sexy you are. Every time I see you going commando under one of those skimpy tanks you wear, I can see the outline of your pouty nipples and I want to lift your shirt and take you in my mouth.”

She squirmed, feeling her juices flow. She was getting aroused just hearing his words. He hadn’t even really touched her yet. The anticipation of more words or more actions was setting her teeth on edge. She waited to see what would come next. His eyes were heavy lidded and knowing. He leaned toward her, circling her areola with his finger again, then darted his quicksilver tongue against her pearled nipple, following the path his finger had blazed. The fine hairs along her arm stood on end. Ryan took her breast almost entirely into his mouth, using his tongue to play against the tip.

Sophie’s breathing quickened, and she fisted a hand in his hair, bringing his face up to hers. She kissed him, desire spilling from her every pore. He pushed against her palm, and she answered his silent entreaty, holding his pulsing erection firmly in her small grip. Even after doing it a few times, she was amazed that she could make him this hard this fast. In silent appreciation, she swabbed at the small bead of fluid along the tip and looked him in the eye as she took her thumb into her mouth, taking in the essence of him.

He watched her intently, closing his eyes when her lips surrounded her finger. He was still for such a long moment.

She leaned in to kiss his forehead. “You okay?”

When he opened his blue eyes the color of a summer sky, it took everything she had not to look away. “Yeah, you almost sent me over the edge,” he said, fighting to control his breathing. “I’ve never seen anything so hot.”

“Do you want to
…” she faltered. “Can we…”

“God
, yes.” He paused. “If you’re ready.”

She only had to nod slightly before Ryan surged up, jerking open the bedside table and sheathing himself. He spread her legs wide, opening her to him, and hooked her left leg over his shoulder, their bodies lying perpendicular. From this angle, she was completely exposed to him. She knew he could see everything from her pink nether lips to the bobble of her dusky nipples as she gasped.

“Grab the headboard,” he instructed. Sophie obliged, grabbing the metal rails on the wrought iron bed, and he entered her with a rush. It felt incredible to have Ryan take her this way, wonderfully overwhelming. She held on for dear life as he pulled out part way and slammed into her repeatedly. Instinctively she hooked her right leg around his buttocks, trying to pull him deeper. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand it anymore, he slicked his thumb across her swollen clit, first hard, then soft, then fast, then slow. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. The orgasm, when it came, took her by surprise, and literally stole her breath. Just as she was coming down from her peak, Ryan climaxed, and his orgasm brought on an unexpected aftershock and a second one for Sophie. She wasn’t sure if she blacked out, but it took a few minutes after Ryan withdrew for her to get her bearings. Damn. The man was better than good. She shook her head when he joined her under the blanket.

“What?” he asked, grinning wolfishly.

“I think…” She paused, feeling a little befuddled. “Damn, I think I could get used to this.”

He yawned deeply and pulled her against him, her back to his front. He traced her tattoo along its calligraphic lines. Stretching, then yawning again, he whispered, “What’s so bad about that?”

After a quick breakfast of cold cereal, Ryan appeared to be hopping with energy despite the fact that he eschewed caffeine. Sophie was about to suggest they spend the rest of the day in bed, working off that excess energy, but he had on his jacket before she could open her mouth.

“Let’s take Sasha for a hike.”

Thoughts of a repeat of this morning’s performance were already fading from her mind when she reluctantly pulled on her own jacket and thick socks to ward off the morning chill.

Ryan had Sasha leashed and was ready to go by the time Sophie made it to the front door.

“So, nature guy, where are we going today?” she asked, trying to muster up enthusiasm.

“You’ll see,” he said cryptically.

She was surprised when he unlocked the car doors and harnessed Sasha in the back seat. Only in L.A. did she equate hiking with driving. Out here in the woods, she thought they’d start the hike right from the house. Just another thing she’d been naïve about.

Sophie got into the Acura without comment. Things had gone much better than she’d ever anticipated, so she was happy to go along for the ride. They drove along Route 18. As they snaked in and out of the trees on the winding road, she caught repeated glimpses of the sparkling lake. They turned on Rim of the World and pulled into a deserted parking lot. Ryan popped the trunk and pulled out a fairly large nylon cooler.

“What’s in there?” she asked, wondering when he’d had time to do anything like make a picnic.

“Lunch.”

They hiked in companionable silence for the first hour. They’d let Sasha off the lead and she ran forward, disappearing around curves, only to run back, making sure they were still following her. For the first time since they’d met, Sophie wasn’t feeling insanely nervous around Ryan. The butterflies in her stomach had settled down for once.

They reached a steep incline and Ryan grabbed her hand, helping her up when her short legs faltered. His grip on her hand was firm and reassuring, and if she was
honest with herself, really nice. It felt good when he touched her, both in and out of bed. When the path evened out again, he didn’t let go, and she didn’t pull away, enjoying the constant contact with any part of his body.

After a while he spoke into the silence. “Tell me more about Sophie.”

She pulled her hand away, suddenly defensive. “What do you want to know that you already don’t?”

He looked as if he wanted to smooth her ruffled feathers. “I don’t know your middle name for instance.”

Sophie relaxed. Maybe he didn’t want to probe her innermost thoughts and feelings which she didn’t share with just anyone. “It’s Constance.”

“Really. What does that name mean? More wisdom?”

“No, worse,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s just like it sounds, steadfast, constant, you know, not flaky.”

Ryan nodded sagely.

“Yeah, you see why my parents were disappointed. I guess they were bargaining for a very traditional child, and they got flighty, artsy me instead.” She threw up her hands in mock surrender. “No lawyer, no doctor, no executive, just a make-up artist.”

“Do you have that tattooed anywhere on that sexy little body of yours?” He looked at her as if he wanted to peel her clothes off right there. “Maybe I missed something.”

Damn, she was nervous again. He needed nothing more than words to arouse her. “The one on my shoulder is the only one I have.”

He came back to the subject at hand, asking more about her life.

“I saw some paintings at your house. Are those yours?”

“Nah, those belong to a few artist friends I know around L.A. I dabble in oils a tiny bit. I never took any formal classes or anything like that. My parents thought it was a waste of time. No one can make a career out of art, my father always said. Whatever.” She shook her head dismissively. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Where did you go to high school?”

“What is this? Are we tripping down memory lane?”

He didn’t respond, just waited expectantly.

She sighed. “Flintridge Prep, class of oh two. What about you, Mr. Reseda?”

“Flintridge as in La Cañada-Flintridge?” he asked, referring to one of the wealthiest communities in Los Angeles County.

“Yeah, yeah. I just went to school there, I didn’t live there,” Sophie said, deflecting further questions about her upbringing. San Marino, in reality, wasn’t all that different than La Cañada-Flintridge. But she hated it when people defined her by her parents’ choice of hometown. “You didn’t answer
my
question,” she persisted.

“What you would guess
? Reseda High School.”

“How did you like it?” she asked, then immediately regretted the question. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean
—”

He intertwined their fingers and kissed the back of her hand, sending shivers down her spine. “It’s okay. I’m used to the question. It’s just public school, not jail. I turned out fine.”

“Yeah. You’re all right,” Sophie said giving him mock punch on the shoulder. Ryan pulled her close and gave her a kiss she felt down to her purple toenails. He pulled back, looking deep into her gray eyes. She wondered if her eyes reflected the stormy passion in his.

“You’re a lot more than all right with me,” he said, though Sophie was sure there was more than met the eye in those few words.

When they finally reached the top of the trail, the view was breathtaking. There was an uninterrupted view of San Gorgonio Mountain, jagged granite peaks topped with a dusting of early snow. She could see nothing of the vast lake from this area, which backed onto Big Bear. The quiet solitude and spectacular views more than made up for a chance to see Big Bear Lake from such a high vantage point. They veered off the marked trail, and Ryan spread a blanket in a small clearing surrounded by tall pines. He pulled out a portable nylon bowl and filled it with bottled water for Sasha. She drank greedily, then curled into a ball on the edge of the blanket for a much needed puppy nap.

Sharing a meal with someone had never been so sensual. Ryan fed Sophie tidbits of dried figs stuffed with goat cheese, sparkling white wine, chicken salad, hunks of homemade bread, and small bits of a French chocolate brownie for dessert. He’d even thought about keeping them hydrated with sparkling mineral water. Though she pestered him, she never got an answer about when he’d made or bought all the delicious food.

When talk about the food petered out, they lapsed into another companionable silence. Sophie couldn’t remember feeling so comfortable with another person that conversation wasn’t necessary all the time they were together. Without talking, she was more attuned to other things: the funny way Ryan’s too-long hair kept falling across his forehead even though he kept pushing it back, the flex of his muscles as he made their picnic area more comfortable, how the blue of the sky mirrored the color of his eyes. When their eyes met, hers slid away, unable to meet his gaze. An indescribable feeling filled her. It was a combination of the feeling she’d had when she’d had her first crush on a guy in eighth grade, that youthful mixture of hope and fear of the unknown, and that itchy feeling she got whenever Ryan kissed or touched her.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he said.

She looked up at him, but had to shield her eyes from the strong sun overhead. She reached behind her and fished in her bag, successfully retrieving her sunglasses.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He didn’t so much seem like he wanted to ask a question, but rather wanted to say something else.

“I’ll give you a dime for yours.”