Let Me Be the One Page 22
Vicki started rubbing him and heaven and hell rolled into one as pleasure and torture came at him in crashing waves. Fortunately, she didn’t speak, so he didn’t have to, either. She’d opened the French doors out to his deck and he worked to focus on the surf hitting the shore rather than how good she smelled...or the fact that she seemed to know exactly how he liked to be touched. Because if she knew how to rub his shoulders, did that mean she’d also know exactly how to rub his—
He cursed aloud.
Vicki jumped back. “Did I just hurt you?”
“No.” How the hell was he going to stand up without her seeing what her innocent touches had done to him? Down, boy! “It was great. I just remembered something I should have taken care of last night.” Namely, beating his desire for her into the ground.
By the time he had his erection under control enough to turn around, she was picking up her keys and bag from the counter.
“I should get going now, anyway. I’ll see you at the stadium this afternoon.”
She was gone before he could apologize for being a jerk.
His phone rang just as he was about to get into a very cold shower. When he saw it was Rafe, Ryan turned off the water and picked up. “You found something.”
“Maybe. James Sedgwick is into some pretty creepy things. Heavy duty S&M mostly, which isn’t that out of the ordinary considering some of the things I see.”
“But you’re still not convinced he’s clear.”
“This friend of yours he was hassling is a sculptor, right?”
A muscle jumped in Ryan’s jaw as he unclenched his teeth long enough to say, “She is.”
“I’m guessing she’s pretty, huh?”
Ryan thought about the way she’d looked the night before on the couch, her big green eyes slightly dilated from the darkened room, her mouth plump and begging to be kissed. “You can’t even imagine how pretty.”
“As far as I can tell, every year he picks a girl just like your friend to be his. And then at the end of every year, after sending the girl on her way with some career prize, he gets a replacement. I’m guessing he’s wanting your friend to fill his current vacancy.”
Ryan nearly crushed his cell phone in his fist as he stared blindly out at the ocean. “That. Is. Never. Going. To. Happen.”
Just the thought of letting the pervert look at Vicki while fantasizing about tying her up and hurting her to get his sexual kicks, had Ryan’s fists tightening.
Vicki thought they could “break up” and everything would still be fine. She’d thought she’d overreacted to the creep’s advances.
If anything happened to her, Ryan would not only never forgive himself, he’d end up in jail—because he’d kill James without even blinking an eye.
That was when the truth hit Ryan hard enough to jolt him with the force of an earthquake rolling beneath his feet.
Of course Vicki’s friendship meant a great deal to him. And it was also a given that he’d always wanted her, right from that first moment he’d landed on top of her in high school. That was why, these past few days, it had been easy to focus on first their friendship and then the wanting, the bottomless desire he felt for her, as his reasons for wanting to protect her and keep her close.
But the real reason went so much further, so much deeper, than friendship.
Ryan didn’t just want Vicki, didn’t just crave her laughter, her curves, her mouth beneath his.
He loved her.
And every other woman he’d been with since that day she’d come into his life had only been a placeholder for the real thing.
Chapter Ten
Ryan timed his arrival at the Hawks’ parking lot perfectly in order to intercept Judy, a reporter for ESPN.com. Some of the reporters were all business, but since he was pretty much responsible for introducing her to her husband a few years back, they’d always had a friendly rapport.
Still, just because they were friendly, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t release any and all dirt that she could dig up on him.
Today in particular, he was counting on Judy to do her job.
“How’s John?”
She smiled, looking just as happy about her marriage now as she had a couple of years ago when he’d attended their wedding. “Great, thanks, although we’ve recently adopted a puppy who is running us in circles. And pooping pretty much everywhere.”
“Let me know if you need a dog trainer. I know one of the best.”
“Honestly, I’ll take any help I can get at this point.”
After he gave her Heather’s name and the number for Top Dog, she got down to their standard order of business. “It’s been another great year for you so far. One more game to go before the playoffs. How are you feeling about tonight’s game?”
“Never felt better.”
Her eyebrow rose at his emphatic response. “Really? Any particular reason why?”
Ryan grinned and leaned in closer. “Actually, there is.”
* * *
Despite all the nonsense with James and Anthony, Vicki couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a good day in the studio. It was probably all the repressed sexual desire she was channeling into her work that had her kicking it up a notch.
Lord knew she had to put all that tamped-down lust somewhere.
She stopped to stretch her back and neck and enjoy the way the sun was filtering into the windows in her small room, when she jumped up out of her chair with a curse, her iPod and headphones clattering to the floor.
Crap, it was already six p.m.!
She’d been planning to go back to Ryan’s house to take a shower and blow-dry her hair into submission, maybe even put on some makeup before heading out to his game. Instead, she barely had time to wash her hands and change out of her clay-stained leggings and tank top to put on the old, faded flowery sundress and flip-flops she’d worn into the studio. Vicki groaned as she realized her br**sts were half falling out of the dress. She hadn’t been planning to wear it in public, but consoled herself with the fact that no one would be looking at her. Especially not if any of Ryan’s brothers or sisters came to the game and were sitting near her.
Ryan had been the best friend in the world to her this week, and she couldn’t even manage to get to one of his games on time. She sucked.
Since there was no time to make a difference with styling products and mascara, she didn’t bother to look at her reflection in the window as she grabbed her bag, sunglasses, and Ryan’s car keys from the tiled counter. She didn’t even want to know how bad her frizzed-out hair was.