In Bed with Mr. Wrong

Chapter Ten

What did this woman do to him?

Ryan sank to the floor and pulled Bri into his lap. He wanted to say something, do something, to cement this peaceful feeling soaking into him. Maybe, just maybe, they were finally getting somewhere. “Come on.”

“What?” Bri blinked up at him as he shifted her to the carpet next to him and stood. He would have liked to think that her expression was caused by the aftereffects of her orgasm, but he didn’t think so.

“Come to bed with me.” He held out his hand, which she proceeded to look at like it might jump off his wrist and go for her throat.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He gritted his teeth and strove for patience. “Honey, I just banged you against the wall. I’m pretty confident that coming to bed with me isn’t going to cross any more boundaries.”

Instead of being reassured, she only looked more determined. “No. We’re not sleeping together.”

“We just did.”

She struggled to her feet and hurriedly gathered up her clothes. “No. What we did was have sex. Sleeping together isn’t the same thing.”

It shouldn’t have felt like a slap to the face. But it did. “So I’m good enough to fuck, but I’m not good enough to sleep next to on a massive king-size bed.” He shouldn’t be surprised. He’d been fighting to be considered worth something for his whole damn life, and she’d just thrown it back in his face. Stupidly, he’d thought that maybe she’d felt some of the same connection he had while they were all tangled up in each other.

Guess not.

The pile of clothes she had clutched to her chest dipped, as if she were really considering it. “I… That’s not what I meant. It’s just—” She closed her eyes and, when she opened them, the warmth those baby blues had previously held was gone. “Will you please put on some clothes?”

God forbid. Ryan leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “You weren’t complaining a minute ago.”

Her face flamed as if he’d just said something seriously inappropriate. “That’s not fair. If you can’t maintain the boundaries I need, maybe we shouldn’t have sex anymore.”

Absolutely not. He wasn’t about to let her avoid this conversation and make him feel like a dick when it was her idea to begin with. Ryan clenched his jaw as he disposed of the condom and yanked on his jeans. He wasn’t close enough to touch her, but she gave his groin area a wild look—as if he were really going to pop his cock out uninvited.

Ryan wasn’t always a gentleman and he wasn’t always nice, but he didn’t disrespect women, and he sure as fuck didn’t push them into a situation where they’d feel uncomfortable. Considering she’d just had her legs wrapped around his waist while begging him to fuck her, her acting like he was a Neanderthal now grated. “Stop it. Just fucking cut it out.”

Her gaze flew to his face. “I don’t understand.”

“Stop looking at me like you think I’m going to haul your ass over to the bed and fuck you.”

She gasped and her eyes went wide. If she hadn’t licked her lips, he might have actually believed she was scandalized. She wasn’t, though. She wanted him again—just like he wanted her.

Too fucking bad.

He wasn’t going to play these games with her and her mixed messages. Ryan might be fighting everything in him to avoid doing what he’d just described to her, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to touch her until she figured out whatever her issue was. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward until his face was bare inches from hers.

“Let’s get something straight. I’m not a toy you can pick up and then throw away when you’re done with me. You don’t want to sleep in the bed? Fine. I’m not going to tie you up and force it on you, but I’m sure as fuck not going to let you keep flipping around on me. You need to make up your mind about what you want. When you do that, let me know.”

Then he stalked down the hallway and slammed the door. Under normal circumstances, there was no way in hell he’d let a woman sleep on the couch while he took the bed, but…

Shit. He still couldn’t.

Cursing himself up one side and down the other, Ryan threw open the door. She still stood wide-eyed in the middle of the hallway where he’d left her. “Take the bed.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have five seconds to get into the bedroom and shut the door, or you’re sleeping on the couch.”

She gave a short nod and slid past him. “Thank you.” Then she was gone, the door shutting between them.

It felt like yet another wall coming up.

…

Bri curled up in the middle of the massive bed, but no matter how tired she was she couldn’t shut off her racing thoughts. The fact that Ryan wanted to share the bed was a big deal. She wasn’t sure what it was a step toward, but as soon as he’d offered, she’d nearly had a panic attack. Every time she had sex with him, she fell a little more under his spell. She’d already had to forcibly remind herself that he wasn’t sticking around—and he never would. He was shipping out in a little over a week. It was at the top of a list of reasons they shouldn’t be together, a list that only seemed to get shorter as time went on.

A list she wasn’t sure why she was clinging to so fiercely.

No, that wasn’t entirely accurate. She knew all too well why she held it so closely. This wasn’t a romance novel. Just because she didn’t dislike him as intensely as she had when they first met didn’t mean a single thing about their overall compatibility. Love wasn’t the glue that held a relationship together. It was something that came from hard work and commitment and a thousand other things people in relationships often took for granted.

She wasn’t interested in love when it came to Ryan.

Love? Bri took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. No one had said anything about love. What would a relationship with him even look like? He was a pararescuer, which meant he’d leave on regular tours overseas. Tours she had no guarantee he’d ever come back from. It was in his job description to charge into situations most people fled from. Maybe he’d come home from this one, but it was only a matter of time before he’d have to go in to save a wounded soldier and wouldn’t make it back. Their motto—which she’d looked up when Drew first bragged about his little brother—was That Others May Live. He’d always be more concerned about the soldiers he rescued than his own well-being.

She might very well be left waiting for him to come home from a mission for the rest of her life, nursing yet another scar on her soul because she’d taken a risk on someone she knew would hurt her in the end.

No way could she handle losing another person. Not like that.

She fell asleep still contemplating the potential future, which was probably why she woke up the next morning with a sense of unease and vague memories of nightmares. She adjusted her clothing and winced at the realization that she’d been wearing them for over twenty-four hours.

A shower was definitely in order. And she’d be a whole lot more confident about that plan if she could work up the courage to leave the bedroom and walk the three steps down the hallway to the bathroom door.

It’s not like he’s going to jump out of the shadows and drag you back into the bedroom. Her entire body heated at the thought, which just went to show sometimes people were really foolish when it came to sex. She’d always known that, but things hit a little bit closer to home now that she knew what all the fuss was about.

She made it to the bathroom with no appearance of Ryan and breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the shower. Bri stared at the handful of condom packets shoved into the rack between jumbo-sized containers of shampoo and conditioner. Exactly how much sex had Avery and Drew thought they’d have?

The only warning she got was a strange cranking sound, and then the water turned from pleasantly warm to heart-stoppingly cold. She screamed and scrambled for the faucet, screaming again when Ryan pounded on the bathroom door.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Just shaking like a leaf with goose bumps covering her entire body. “Just…go about your business.”

“Not until you come out.”

He was an impossible pain in the ass, and he’d no doubt be content to sit outside the door until she did just that. Then she realized—entirely too late—that she didn’t have any clothes to change into.