He dragged me to his room, and what happened was what romance novels are written about. The moment we entered, he slammed the door behind us, backing me into it, pressing his body against mine, and burying his face into my neck. As he pulled me so our bodies were flush with each other, I tried to get my bearings. I raised my hands to his midsection, steadying myself, while reeling from the scent of his cologne, and the light prickly sensation of his stubble on my neck. As he inhaled, pulling me even closer if that were possible, I ran my hands up his sides instinctively.

Ryan leaned back, gently raising his hands to my face, examining me. What I read in his expression was frustration, and fire. “You don’t get it, Miranda,” he said huskily.

“Get what?” I whispered, staring into his eyes, .My heart was about to pound out of my chest.

“I don’t want to be friends,” he replied, just before bringing his lips to mine. He kissed me deeply, and longingly giving me the kind of chills I’d never experienced before. The moment our lips touched, I lost all my senses, swimming in a sea of desire as he drank me in, stealing my breath away. His tongue brushed mine gently, and he grabbed a fistful of hair, tugging gently. My hands slowly moved up to his chest, as I took in his chiseled body one slow inch at a time. I gave into his kiss immediately, forgetting my earlier dismay and confusion, and relished in the moment all over again. But it was different; something had changed. He wasn’t holding back this time.

He began to explore my body with his hands, reaching around my back, pulling my hips tightly to his. I felt his hardness against me, and my craving for him growing exponentially. His hands reached lower, pulling up my dress as he slid his hand up my thigh. I wrapped my leg around him, feeling the wetness in my panties as he ran his thumb along the string at my hip under my skirt. My need for him increasing, I let out a small moan as his massive hand squeezed my ass, pressing my core into him.

As he slid his tongue slowly down my neck, I was grateful for the hotel room door, which steadied me as my knees buckled from the overwhelming sensations of his touch. I gasped as he gently bit my shoulder just below my neck, kissing gently where his teeth had been. As I tilted my head further to the side, granting him full access, he pulled away, taking my hands into his, walking me to the bed, where he pushed me gently to sit down. Kneeling in front of me, his hands running up my thighs, he said, “I want you to stay with me tonight.” He gazed up at me, adding, “Please?”

Oh, you’re goddamn right! Fuck yes! “Yes,” I whispered instead, trying to keep my inner whore at bay for just a little bit longer. I was so fucking hot for him, and not remembering the last time I’d been intimate with a man, my libido was in overdrive.

“Wait right here. Don’t move, okay?” He stood up, walking backward to the bathroom, where he disappeared for just a moment. It sounded like he’d gotten something out of a bag in there. Probably condoms, I thought, getting even more giddy with anticipation. As he walked back out slowly, running a hand through his thick blond hair, he kneeled in front of me again; this time, pushing my legs apart more, giving himself access to me.

He ran his hands up the skirt of my dress toward my center, and I tensed up a bit. The reality of the moment hit me. We were doing this. And while I wanted him so badly in that moment, I had a pang of need for reassurance I couldn’t express. As if he knew what I was thinking, he stopped, bringing his hands back to my face. “Miranda. I think you’re amazing. And you’re beautiful. I know you’re worried about what this means, or what happens if we do this. I promise you, we’ll take the summer to figure it out together.” He caressed my face gently, scanning for an answer.

“How did you know?” I whispered, still barely able to speak. As I surveyed his eyes, I saw truth. He had no reason to lie to me, or to use me for anything. He wanted me, as much as I wanted him, and what happened yesterday was a failure to launch for both of us.

“Because I watch you all day, Miranda. I watch you work, I watch you sing like an angel, I watch you take care of everyone around you. I watch,” he said softly. “I’ve wanted you from the minute I laid eyes on you. This isn’t something I can stop; you’re in my head, Miranda. All day. Every day. You.”

And with that, I launched myself at him, letting go. Letting him in. All night long.