But I’d gotten caught up in his urgent desire, and I didn’t want slow. I wanted hard and fast and deep. So, I wrapped my legs around his hips and drew him in deeper. He looked down at me with a question in his eyes, and I nodded. Yes. God yes, this is what I wanted.
“God damn it, Emma, you feel so good,” he whispered as he increased his pace.
Time ceased to exist as he thrust inside me over and over again. I had no idea if seconds had passed, or minutes, or even hours. I was conscious of nothing but the man and the way he was driving my body higher and higher. I was so close, teetering on the brink when he leaned down and I felt his lips against my neck. And then I felt more—suction, and then his teeth. He wasn’t hurting me exactly, he was…oh god, there was no way to describe it. But all at once it was too much, and the spring that had coiled tight inside me sprang loose, releasing wave after wave of exquisite pleasure from my core.
Before I’d even begun to come back down, he thrust hard once more and then stilled; and his groan a second later sounded like pure ecstasy.
A moment passed, and then one more, and then he withdrew and rolled next to me. I wasn’t sure what to do, but it felt entirely natural when I rolled toward him and laid my head against his chest. He wrapped his arm around me and his fingers drew light, lazy circles down my back.
And why at that precise moment, I’ll never know, but a thought came to me then, and I knew it couldn’t be put off any longer. I was supposed to have set the record straight long before then, and if I left it any longer, it would grow into something more than a little misunderstanding. It was time.
“Ryan, there’s something I have to tell you.”
His hand stilled in the middle of its path. “This isn’t the part where you tell me you used to be a guy, is it? Since as much as I hate to admit it…I’m not sure I’d care.” He laughed and resumed the light caress along my skin.
Well, if he could handle that, this should be a breeze then, I thought wryly, and then propped my elbows up on his chest so I could look at him.
“The other day when you came next door, and you found me in the garden…” Jeez, it was such as stupid thing to have wound up in this big misunderstanding. “The thing is…I’m not really a gardener. I didn’t know how to tell you that. I know I should have set the record straight right away, but I wasn’t sure what to say. And then after—the next day—you opened your front door in that towel…” My voice trailed off as I remembered the image clearly.
He didn’t say anything, but his hand continued its path, and that had to be a good sign, didn’t it? If he was rip-roaring angry with me, certainly he wouldn’t still be caressing my body and making me ache for another round.
“So, if you aren’t the gardener,” he started, his voice still just as calm as it had been. That was definitely a good sign. “What were you doing there? Do you wander into people’s gardens often?” he asked, warring notes of amusement and perplexity in his tone.
“Um, just mine,” I replied, figuring that would tidy up my explanation nicely.
“Yours? You mean you live in the house next door?”
“Well, I suppose at the moment, I live here,” I tried to joke, “But yes, up until just a few days ago, I lived there.”
“And you just didn’t know quite how to tell me?”
“Exactly. Well, that and I found you incredibly distracting,” I confessed honestly, though a prickle of heat warmed my cheeks.
“OK,” he said all of a sudden, so easily that I wasn’t sure if I should feel relieved. I waited for him to say more, but it seemed no more words were forthcoming.
“OK? Just…OK?”
“Did you want me to say more? Get mad, maybe? It seems to me that it was a simple misunderstanding. If anyone should be feeling bad about it, it’s me, Emma, not you. I mistook you for the hired help. But if it’s any consolation at all, I thought you were the most incredible looking hired help there ever was,” he laughed ruefully. “But I get why you didn’t set it straight right away. And you have now, so I don’t see any reason to get angry.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure what I expected, but I suppose I’d been mentally preparing myself for something…more—not that I was complaining.
“And if I happened to have you so frazzled you couldn’t think straight…well, I’m not going to complain about that,” he said a split second before his hands settled under my arms and he pulled me up on top of him.
8
Emma
It was perfect. Well, as perfect as any casual fling that was confined to late night rendezvous could be. We kept our distance from each other during the day, always amicable but nothing more in front of Abby. But once she was in bed, neither of us could keep our hands off each other. We fell into bed—or onto the sofa…the floor…in the shower…or anywhere else that suited our needs—within moments of tucking Abby in for the night.
Ryan had had to spend some of his daytime hours at his office in the city, and every once in a while he’d come in late. But I was ready for him the moment he returned, and he’d seemed only too eager to strip every bit of clothing off me—on the rare occasions I was still wearing clothing when he walked in the door—and bury himself deep inside me. It was always like that; we were too eager and too desperate for each other to take our time at first. But then, once that first orgasm had helped to take the edge off, it was different. I’d tasted every part of his body and felt his lips on every inch of mine. And while I wouldn’t exactly call myself an expert yet, he taught me exactly how to drive him wild—and I’d figured out how to drive him to the brink, only to hold him there, drawing out what should have been seconds to minutes and increasing the intensity of his orgasm tenfold.
It was one of those nights when he’d been stuck at the office late, and after waiting for a full hour after I’d tucked Abby into bed, I decided to go for a swim in the indoor pool. I’d deliberately skipped the swimsuit and was doing languid, naked laps, waiting for his inevitable return.
And I waited…and waited. Though I’d been taking it easy, my muscles had begun to grow tired and I’d left the pool, wrapping a towel around my body and wandering through the quiet house. But still, he hadn’t returned. I was just about to pass by his office door when I noticed light seeping through where it had been left open a crack.
“Ryan?” I called peeking inside, but not expecting an answer.
But there he was, sitting behind his desk with a stack of papers in front of him.