She stepped forward and did something she’d never done with another man—took a huge risk, exposing herself fully both emotionally and, yes, physically.
Sabrina dropped her towel. “Welcome home, honey.”
***
RYAN FROZE, AFRAID IF HE MOVED he’d wake up, because he must be dreaming. Sabrina, gloriously naked, greeting him at the door. It was too good to be true. If this wasn’t something that could make anyplace home, he didn’t know what would. Hunger clawed at him, instant and demanding, his gaze sweeping over Sabrina’s amazing, sexy body, her dark hair caressing creamy shoulders, hair he fully intended to see on his stomach, his chest. And her breasts—high, full, with plump, pink nipples that he wanted in his mouth.
“Ryan,” Sabrina pleaded. “Please say or do something or I am going to die of mortification.”
His gaze jerked to hers. “Mortification?” He closed the distance between them and pulled her to the bed where he sat down, holding her between his legs. “Sweetheart.” His hand flattened on her belly. “You are absolutely beautiful. I was just trying to figure out if this is a dream.” His hands traveled up her waist, over her breasts. He pressed them together and thumbed her nipples, then licked. One nipple, then the other. “And enjoying the view.”
“Last time—”
He took her down on the mattress, on her back, him beside her, on his side. His hand settling again on her stomach—there was something so damn sexy about her stomach. “Last time I was so worried about taking advantage of you being upset, I didn’t see the big picture. That you were reaching out to me in a moment of need. I’m sorry.”
She rolled to her side, her hand to his cheek, and kissed him. “I wanted you, Ryan. All my father’s note did was remind me I’d given up too much of my life, that I’d missed out on things I didn’t want to miss. Like you. You are, without exception, the best thing that has happened to me in a very long time.”
Ryan inhaled those words as a dying man would his last breath, his lips lingering over hers, their breaths weaving together as one. Once again he found himself frozen, afraid to move for fear this would be a dream. He was falling for this woman, probably already had. Falling in love, and he could do nothing in that moment but embrace the absoluteness as it came to him. She didn’t want to miss out on him. Well, he didn’t want to miss out on her either. And for now, in this room, she was his. And he wanted everything, all of her. Every last moan, every bit of emotion and passion.
“Ryan,” she said, pulling back, apparently mistaking his silence as negative. “I didn’t mean to say the wrong thing. I mean, I know I’m probably not the type of woman you—”
He rolled her to her back, slid between her legs. “The only type I have is you. You totally do it for me, Sabrina. In every possible way.”
“I do?”
“Oh, yeah, sweetheart,” he promised. “You do. And I’m going to show you just how much.”
***
SABRINA’S INSECURITY, her fear, was gone. Everything about Ryan’s reaction, his words, the hunger radiating from him, filled her with confidence, ignited her need for him.
Ryan brushed his lips over hers, as if to seal his promise, a soft whisper brushed with such intense sensuality that goose bumps slid along her skin. “No barriers this time,” he vowed.
She had no idea what that meant, but it sounded good, sounded really good. That was, until he pulled back. She reached for him, desperate to bring him back, to feel his weight on her, to feel him touch her and kiss her.
But he was standing at the end of the bed, undressing, yanking his shirt over his head. Sabrina lifted herself to her elbows, forgetting any nerves over her own nudity. It was midday, and sunlight beamed through the thin hotel curtains, highlighting Ryan’s full form, leaving nothing to her imagination. And he was perfect. The width of his shoulders, the exact right amount of light-brown hair sprinkled across his impressive chest. Dark, flat nipples. She swallowed hard as she discovered a thin line of hair that trailed down his spectacular abdominals and disappeared beneath his jeans. Which he unsnapped.
“We should talk about birth control,” he said.
Her gaze jerked upward. “Birth control?” she asked, not quite registering the question. That line of hair was just so intriguing.
“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s do ‘the talk’ and get it out of the way.”
“The talk.” Laughter bubbled from her lips, with surprising ease, considering this was her first time to be naked with Ryan—well, sort of, there was the partial nudity in the stairwell. But normally she’d be nervous, thinking about what he was thinking. But the heat in his eyes, the stark hunger in his face, said more than words. Continuing, she said playfully, “Well, let’s see. I’m on the pill, but a good senator’s daughter would still demand a condom. Got one?”