In Bed with Mr. Wrong

Chapter Twelve

Ryan finished washing and drying the dishes and moved on to cleaning the rest of the kitchen. It didn’t really need the scrub-down, but he needed something, anything, to keep himself away from Bri. Though she seemed ready to go toe-to-toe with him again, his goals had changed with their conversation.

While he cooked the oatmeal, he’d gotten a glimpse of the side of Bri that sparked his curiosity in a huge way. She’d be easy to write off if she didn’t show him those flashes of vulnerability and sweetness. More than that, the way she shied from talking about her past only intrigued him more. There were shadows there, and he wanted to find out exactly what had brought her to Wellingford.

Hell, he wanted to know everything.

It didn’t help that she was wrapped around her book on the couch, absently running her fingers through the ends of her hair. She was totally lost to reality, and he had a few ideas on how to bring her back. None of which he could implement, because he was supposed to be talking with her—not yanking off her clothes and kissing every inch of her body. She looked so damn comfortable he was tempted to curl up next to her, which was exactly the wrong thing to do if he was intent on keeping his hands to himself.

He built up the fire, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t look up, not even to throw out a comment about him burning something down. Disappointment flared, followed by the realization… Holy shit, he actually enjoyed bickering with her.

Ryan sat back on his heels and gave her his full attention. She didn’t so much as twitch. That must be one hell of a book if she was able to ignore him—and the opportunity to rib him—so completely. Though common sense said he should just let it be, he couldn’t sit here and let her ignore him. And the temptation to see if he could provoke her, just a little, was too much to resist.

He dropped onto the sofa across from her. “What are you reading?”

“A book.”

He could already see her checking out on him, her attention sliding back to the words on the page in front of her. An idea took root, slipping out of his mouth before he had a chance to think better of it. “Read it to me.”

That got her attention. She actually tore her gaze from the book and frowned at him. “What?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but this place doesn’t have much in the way of entertainment. So entertain me.”

“I’m not a performing monkey.”

“Never said you were.” He held up his hands. Bickering was one thing, but an actual argument would only end with them right back where they started. “Throw me a bone, here. I’m about to go out of my mind.”

“It’s been fifteen minutes since we had breakfast. You can’t possibly be that bored already.”

Maybe not, but he was having a hard time remembering why he wasn’t supposed to seduce her when Bri sat there, all comfortable and kissable. “Come on, Bri. Please.”

She sighed. “It’s a romance. You aren’t going to be interested.”

“On the contrary—there’s nothing like an intriguing romance. Is it good?”

“You’re really interested?” She looked at him over the top of her glasses. He didn’t think now was the time to tell her that her doing that sent a bolt of desire through him so strongly, he almost scrapped his resolve and closed the distance between them. No. Jumping back into having sex would accomplish even less than fighting. He gave his best sincere look. “Yep.”

“If you promise to refrain from commentary, then I will.”

“I’ll be as silent as Mr. Smith.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “He’s a wonderful listener.”

“I’ll be just as good. I promise.” God, he hoped this wasn’t one of those bodice-rippers. His buddy’s wife was into those, and James was known to bitch about them from time to time. Then again, he did it with a grin on his face, so Ryan didn’t think he minded all that much. “So what’s the setup?”

“The hero is a duke who’s trying to find the group of people who killed his little sister. The heroine grew up on the streets in his city and has had to do some pretty terrible stuff to keep herself alive. They met when she sneaked into his room to steal this pendant he has so she can pay to free her sister, who’s been taken captive by a rival group. They are just about to get married to solve both their problems.”

Well, hell. His head was already spinning. He eyed the book. She wasn’t more than a quarter of the way through—he could catch up. “Got it.”

“Okay, then. Here goes.” She took another deep breath, as if steeling herself. “Dmitri knew he couldn’t trust Savannah, knew it right down into the depths of his soul, but he was unable to walk away…”

Ryan knew exactly how this dude felt.

…

Bri got lost in the turning of the pages and the unfolding of the relationship between Dmitri and Savannah. She did a Story Time session several times a week, so it felt perfectly natural to read aloud, even if she was reading romance to Ryan and not a picture book to a group of prekindergartners.

She was so caught up in the conflict that she was two pages into a sex scene before she realized what had happened. Oh hell. She tried to ignore the flaming of her face and carefully set her bookmark between the pages and shut the book. “I think that’s enough for now.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. You were just getting to the good part.” At some point, he’d stretched out over the couch, making himself at home like he was some kind of sexy cat.

Sexy cat? Obviously the book had gone to her head, because she couldn’t help but think that he’d make an excellent shifter, though he’d probably be more wolf than one of the cat family. She wished she could blame the heat pulsing between her legs and through her body on the story she’d read, but it’d be far from the truth.

It was Ryan.

He was all barely contained strength and sex appeal. She wasn’t immune by a long shot. Though, if she was perfectly honest, she hadn’t tried very hard to ignore his appeal. She shifted under his gaze, wanting to tell him to look away, but that’d mean admitting how much he affected her. “My throat hurts from talking so much.”

It was a dirty lie, but she didn’t think she could handle reading a sex scene while he sat there and watched her. Not to mention Jenny Ellis was known for her explicit language, which was fine when reading alone in the privacy of her own home, but this was hardly that.

Worse still, if she kept reading, he’d know what was happening.

He gave her a lazy grin. “Come on, Bri. I want to know how Dmitri is finally going to talk Savannah out of her panties.”

“It’s not a game for him. He cares about her.” Or he would, after they’d been sleeping together for some time and then she ran, which would make him realize exactly how much he loved her.

“Honey, I’d think he more than cares about her.” He pushed to his feet and stretched his arms over his head, making his shirt ride up to reveal a slice of tanned stomach. She was so distracted by the sight that he was nearly on top of her before she realized he’d moved.

“What are you doing?”

“Pass it over.”

Surely he wasn’t suggesting what she was afraid of? In case she was right, Bri slid sideways until she could tuck the book under a pillow. “Pass what over?”

“The book. If your throat hurts, then I’ll read the rest. It’s my turn anyway.”

If there was anything worse than reading this scene to him, it was having him read it to her. How was she supposed to focus on the story when it was his deep voice spelling out all the naughty things Dmitri was doing to Savannah?

Bri met his gaze and understood that he fully expected her to run. Her pride reared its head, demanding she hold her ground. She passed him the book. “Whatever you say.”

“Smart girl.” He winked and then strode into the kitchen.

What the heck? “What are you doing?”

Ryan gave her a look. “You said your throat hurt. Tea will help with that. Besides, it’s been a while since breakfast. I’m starving, so you have to at least be a little hungry.”

He was taking care of her? She sat there, trying to reconcile this man with the one who had pushed her buttons since the moment they met. Yes, he’d made her food and taken the dishes. Then there was the way he’d used his hand on the small of her back the night of their date, and how he’d followed her out of Avery’s party after she bolted. Not to mention the firewood and chili and letting her sleep in the bed…

Oh my God. He’s been trying to take care of me all along.

Since she didn’t know how to deal with that, she accepted the mug with a murmured “Thanks” and decided it was wiser to stay silent. She could get used to watching Ryan in the kitchen. He put together three sandwiches, cut them in half, and arranged them on two plates.

“Are chips okay?”

The strange feeling inside her intensified. The fact that he had her all out of sorts over a simple question about chips only went on to demonstrate how pathetic her history was. “Yes.”

“Good.” He came over and set a plate on the coffee table in front of her before retreating to his couch and systematically devouring his sandwiches. Ryan ate with the kind of single-mindedness of someone who’d gone hungry before enough times to know when to appreciate the presence of food.

She understood. His father had been pretty freaking neglectful if Ryan was forced to learn to cook to fend for himself. Even growing up with Drew, his basic needs hadn’t been met any more than hers had.

“Are you going to eat?”

Bri jumped, realizing she’d been staring at him so long he’d finished his food. “Yes. Thank you.”

“So polite when you want to be.” He smiled. “Do you need more tea?”

It’d only now cooled down to an acceptable drinking temperature. “I think I’m okay.”

After one last look at her, he leaned back and propped his feet on the arm of the couch. Ryan opened the book and draped the brown-and-pink ribboned bookmark over the pillow next to him. Seeing feminine things like ribbons in his wide hands was ridiculous. And absolutely adorable. “Where were we? Oh yes, Dmitri has Savannah pressed against the wall, bracketed by his arms. Does that sound familiar?”

She glanced over sharply, but he didn’t seem to be insinuating anything. Which meant comparing this scene to the one that had played out in the hallway last night rested solely on her shoulders. She brought her knees to her chest, suddenly not nearly as hungry as she’d thought. It didn’t matter who was reading it or what the character’s history was—this book was just fiction.

“Dmitri leaned in until his lips rested against her throat. It should have been terrifying having this massive man so close, and there was a healthy dose of fear running through Savannah, but desire beat a steady drum, a siren call she wasn’t sure he could resist.

“‘Tell me. Tell me what you want.’

“‘You. All of you.’ Everything he had.

“His hands ran down her shoulders to cup her hips. A deft move and her dress was up around her thighs, baring her for his pleasure.”

Bri froze with her cup halfway to her lips. God, they weren’t even to the truly dirty parts and she was already having difficulty breathing. Ryan’s voice woke all sorts of longings she didn’t know what to do with. No, that wasn’t true. The problem was she knew all too well what to do with them.

“Is there something wrong?”

She jumped, nearly spilling tea all down her front. “Not in the least.”

“Really? You’re not even remotely turned on by this?”

This was exactly what she’d been afraid of when he took the book from her. She took another drink of tea to buy herself time, hoping it would cover up the tremor in her voice. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I am.” He lifted the book, drawing her gaze south to where his level of desire was all too evident.

“But they haven’t even done anything yet. He’s barely touched her.” Why was she arguing this? What did it matter if he was turned on as a result of something practically PG?

Ryan folded the corner of the page, raising his eyebrows when she made a protesting noise at his treatment of the book. “Want to know why I’m turned on?”

Even though she knew better, she nodded.

“It’s because I’m picturing us in that position and I’m remembering how good you smell, and how things progressed from there, which has turned to thinking about how damn amazing your mouth feels around my cock.”

Oh God. Bri jumped to her feet, sending her tea mug flying. She spun on her heel, nearly tripped over the corner of the coffee table. That slowed her down enough to realize that she was letting him win by running away. The realization didn’t kill the urge, but she was able to stop moving and turn to face him. “You’re not nearly funny as you think you are.”

“Honey, I’m as serious as a heart attack.”

He was messing with her, just like he had been from the beginning. He had to be. But she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “But you think I’m mousy.” Even as the words came out of her mouth, she cursed herself for giving him that much.

Ryan set the book down and pushed to his feet. He actually seemed pained as he skirted the edge of the coffee table and came to stand before her. “I swear to God, Bri, I’m sorry that I ever said that. You’re the furthest thing from mousy.”

Childhood instinct demanded she lash out before he saw just how badly those earlier words had hurt her, but Bri forced it down for the first time in her life. She couldn’t keep striking out at him blindly just to keep him from getting too close. Like it or not, he was already there.

But that didn’t mean he felt the same way. She licked her lips. “You seemed pretty convinced it was the truth that first night.”

“I lied.”

While she was still trying to process that bombshell, he reached out and traced her bottom lip with his thumb. She went still, waiting for the inevitable follow-through. He would kiss her and it would be all over.

Ryan surprised her, though. He took a large step back. “How do you feel about Scrabble?”