Chapter Twenty-One
Sweat slid down Ryan’s temple to catch on the corner of his eye. His breath still burst from his lungs in hard pants that did little to circulate the air. His heart pounded through the warmth that flooded his entire chest, her exhaled breaths matching his own.
He had zero strength or will to move. The wild, frantic sex had released a valve he had no chance of capping. At least not yet. Not when his dick was still entrapped in the warm, clenching heat of Brie. His muscles still trembled in his legs, and he could barely piece together a logical trail of thoughts.
Brie had been amazing—was amazing. Her eyes were blue. A stormy gray blue that’d crashed into his and raged alongside his own wild fall. She’d been everything he’d remembered and so much more. Free. Wild. Trusting.
So damn trusting.
The wonder of that alone humbled him. She’d submitted to his rough treatment and had begged for more.
A long, harsh groan tugged him back to the here. The now. They were still in the Boardroom.
A series of soft slaps indicated that someone else had taken over the show, and the others were still enjoying it.
He lifted. Her limbs tightened around him before they relaxed. He eased from her protective hold, regret eating at his rules.
To achieve success. To earn respect. To be better. To deserve more.
To not feel.
Brie was a gorgeous sight to behold. Her eyes were closed, lips parted, their deep red plumpness declaring the punishment he’d given them. He slicked his tongue over his own that throbbed as he became aware of their soreness. Her blouse was spread wide, the white cups of her bra parting to leave her breasts on full display, dark rose tips still puckered. The color matched the blooming line of bites he’d left down her neck and over her shoulder.
Possessive pride raged before he could call it back. He dragged his fingers over each mark, awed and proud at once. Her panties were shoved to the side, his dick still encased in her heat.
Regret sucked at his chest when he slid free, a firm hold on the end of the condom. Her soft whimper kicked that sore spot in his chest. The one he didn’t recognize and didn’t know how to acknowledge.
A wet wipe lay on the table next to them, and he didn’t question where it’d come from. Just like he hadn’t questioned the condom that’d been handed to him. He cleaned up quickly, taking care of the condom and tucking himself away. Brie was still lifeless when he finished. Most of the room was focused on the next act, but he caught more than one guy admiring Brie.
He didn’t condemn them for doing so, yet he also didn’t like it. Not now. When she was vulnerable and still so damn trusting.
He scooped her up, her arms and legs coming around him without prompting. She clung to him when he’d thought she was weak and listless. She buried her face in his neck, a soft sniff reaching his ear.
His arms tightened. His heart hitched. That soft little sound tore through his resolve and demolished every damn wall he’d spent years erecting.
He turned to the door. A guy held out her skirt and one of her heels that’d fallen off. He took them, grateful for the assist.
“That was stunning,” someone said quietly as he passed.
“Fucking hot,” another added.
The same guy who’d let them in held the door open as he departed. His smirk and nod had Ryan’s arms cinching tighter.
The door clicked closed behind him and finally they were alone. His lungs filled with air, the tension slipping from his shoulders on his exhale.
Brie snuggled closer to him with each step he took. He hunted for an empty office but gave up when his hold started to slip.
He found a desk with a cleared surface and lowered her onto it. “Brie,” he urged, easing back. “Hey.” He cupped her face, concern weaving in. “Brie.”
Her eyes fluttered open, a lazy smile curling her lips. She looked at him beneath heavy lids, a mellow daze still holding.
She lifted a hand, pressed it over his on her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Thank you. His heart pinched, dug in, but he withheld his wince. He couldn’t remember being this lost. Not since those dark days locked in the closet before his plans were laid out and set into motion.
He had no plan for this. For Brie.
He brushed a kiss over her lips, a soft touch that trembled in his chest and threatened everything. He rested his forehead on hers and floundered through the wreckage of his mind.
A shiver shuddered through her limbs and down her back, reminding him of the basics. “We need to get you dressed.”
His chest contracted at the site of the tear trailing from the corner of her eye. She quickly wiped it away, looked down. “I’m fine,” she mumbled. “Really.” But her hands shook in her lap and goose bumps stood out on her forearms.
She was crashing. The same way she had after that first Boardroom scene. It wasn’t unusual after an intense scene, and he kicked himself for not being prepared for it.
The need to care for her roared up with unexpected force. He slipped his suit jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. She shot him a weak smile as she tugged it around her.
He kneeled and eased her skirt over her feet. Her giggle had him jerking his head up. She covered her mouth, a bit of the strain leaving her expression when she lowered her hand.
“Sorry.” She grabbed the waist of her skirt from his hold. “I can get it.” He gave her room to stand, but stayed close. She handled the back zipper with an efficient tug and closed her bra in the next movement. She came to a halt when she grabbed the sides of her blouse.
A swarm of pride and something close to embarrassment pressed on him. Every button on her shirt was missing. She glanced up, quirked a smile.
“I’ll replace it,” he promised.
She didn’t respond as she slid her arms into his jacket and tugged it around her. She tucked her hair behind her ear and slipped her missing heel on as another shiver raked down her torso.
He hauled her to him, tucked her head beneath his cheek, unable to stand back. She relaxed into him immediately, relief falling out on a slow exhale. This was Brie. He had no idea what he was going to do with her, but he couldn’t stand there and let her struggle. Not after what she’d just shared with him.
Given him.
He kissed the top of her head, resolute on his next steps. The plan formed almost without his consent, but he wasn’t backing away from it.
He kept his arm around her as he ushered her from the building and to his car. The silence held during their drive back to the city. The road hummed softly around them, the mood mellow but not tense. Brie had sunk into the seat, her head back, lids lowered. Her hands were lax in her lap except for that almost unnoticeable run of her fingers over her thumb. His hand fisted with the urge to grab hers.
He didn’t.
The traffic picked up as they entered the city. He braced when he cruised past the turn that would take them to work. Her frown marked deep lines in her forehead when she glanced over. Her unspoken question was clear.
He didn’t answer though, and she didn’t push. He turned the heat up a notch when he caught her shivering again. She was still deep in her drop and he wasn’t leaving her alone. Not like that. Not until he was sure she was okay.
He gave in and grabbed her hand, squeezed. A wall crashed and burned with that one simple action.
She stared at him. It prickled over his side and alerted him to the danger of his path. The risks were mounting in stacks that crowded in his stomach in the sick little way he remembered from his youth. Did he make a run for the kitchen to sneak food or wait until dark? Would there be anything left to eat? Would the hunger be better than the beating if he was caught?
He reluctantly let go of her hand when he turned in to the entrance of his parking garage. The loss slithered up his arm in a cunning cry of See? This. This is what you fear.
“Why?” Her soft question broke through the quiet.
He caught the doubt in her expression as he pulled into his parking spot. He found her hand again after he turned off the car. “I’m not dropping you off after that. Not when you’re still shaking.”
She swallowed, doe-eyed. “Oh.”
He drew her in for a kiss, his lips holding on hers for a long beat. His heart gave another hard thump before he exited the car. He grabbed their briefcases from the trunk and met her as she got out, his hand extended, assisting her and reassuring himself that her legs were steady. His own thirst was clawing up his throat to reprimand him for his lack of preparation.
But none of this had been planned. Not even close.
She clung to his hand, her other clutched his jacket tightly closed. A hundred thoughts swirled in his head now, but no words came out. What should he say? What was she thinking? What the fuck did this mean?
He led her into his condo, the silence stretching down the hallway into the open space beyond. He dropped their bags on a kitchen bar stool and plucked two bottles of water from his fridge. She meandered past the kitchen to the living room, her heels clicking out her path on the hardwood. Her back was to him, her gaze locked on the view outside.
He took a long drink from his bottle, finishing half of it before setting it down. The city glowed softly beyond her. He’d neglected to turn on a light, so used to finding his way without it. Late-night visitors had never occurred—until Brie.
He could say that about so many things.
She fit perfectly into the space before him as he wrapped his free hand around her waist and held the bottle of water out to her.
She took it, her weight falling into him in a way that screamed the trust she continued to give him. Would he crush it someday? Unintentionally? Purposely?
Her water was almost gone, her shivers fading before she spoke. “I don’t understand.”
He stared at nothing. The city landscape with its sea of multi-colored lights was lost to the gentle rock and slide of peace he was reluctant to label.
“About what?” He kept his tone hushed, fears shoved back.
Her low snort carried the sarcasm she didn’t voice. “This. You. All of it.”
So am I. But he couldn’t say that. “Then stop trying.”
She set her bottle on the table next to them before she turned in his arms, her scowl only slightly menacing. “I’m trained to understand. That’s my job. Find the facts, sort out the truth and deliver a non-biased analysis.”
“And this isn’t work.”
“But it’s related.” She sagged into him, her arms folded between them, her head resting on his shoulder. “It’s all related,” she mumbled, the misery floating out to punch him.
Was he pushing her? Forcing something she didn’t want? Doubt wedged its way in for the first time since he’d decided to bring her here. “Do you want me to take you home?” The words ground against his throat and chilled the warmth that still flooded his chest.
She didn’t respond for the longest time, and he prepared himself to step away. He’d broken the Boardroom rules. No, he was simply ensuring that she was okay. She’d been his guest, technically. But she’d stopped shaking, and that dazed look had retreated from her eyes.
“Do you want me to go?”
Her question floated up to him on a clear, flat tone. He could feel her withdrawing when she hadn’t moved. That would be for the best, though. They still worked together. She was still his subordinate.
His arms tightened around her. “No.” He spoke the truth when the denial rested on his tongue. “I’d like you to stay.”
A long pause followed before she answered. “I’d like to stay.” The soft response whispered of the same doubt and fear cascading through him.
He squeezed his eyes closed against the wave of nausea that rolled through his stomach. The leap into the unknown was terrifying in ways he’d never expected.
This was already so much more than anything he’d experienced with his ex-wife.
How? Why?
Fuck if he could explain it.
He led her down the hall to his bedroom. The clean lines and stylish decor had all been picked out for him, but he liked the feel of it. It reminded him daily that he was never going back to the scared kid huddled in the closet.
He flicked on the bedside lamp. “Would you like to shower?” His words came out stiff, drawing another internal wince. Could he be a bigger ass? Yet there he stood, waiting for her response.
The kid who’d never dated, never hung out, never even thought of bringing a girl home reared his scared head. How could he admit that he had no clue what to do next?
A smile gentled her expression. She brushed her fingers down his jaw, over his lips. “I’ll just clean up quickly.” Her steps were steady as she crossed the room to the open door of his master bath.
He sank to the bed the second he was alone, dropping his head into his hands. His heart raced on a wild flight that drew his chest in tighter and tighter. Breathe. Breathe.
The toilet flushed, and he laughed. The dry rasp tore at his throat to blare his insecurities when there was no room for them. She was just a woman.
His laugh cut off instantly. That lie wouldn’t work anymore.
He removed his shirt, every movement concise as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. He quickly used the guest bath, dropped his laundry into the appropriate bins for his cleaning service to handle.
He slid between the bedsheets, but remained sitting, one foot still on the floor when she came out of the bathroom. Her clothes were held in one hand, the other clutched his suit jacket to her chest.
The lusty woman from the Boardroom had slid away to reveal this quieter version of Brie, one he could empathize with. The revelation spread in a soothing coat of understanding. They were both a little lost.
He came around the bed to take her clothes and set them on the chair in the corner. She tracked him, her expression as locked down as his own. The image of a soundless dance flashed in his mind as they tiptoed around the unknown.
He stood before her, questions and doubts lashing out before he cupped her cheeks and brought his lips to hers. A shiver threaded down his spine in a long sigh of oh fuck and yes.
Her eyes were bright when he eased back. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, that damn warmth holding steady in his chest.
“We’ll figure this out,” he promised.
Her brows lifted. “Will we?”
He nodded. They had to. There was no other choice.