Blurred Lies (The Blurred Series Book 1) (18 page)

Calli is beautiful, and Nate is a good looking guy, but it still makes me gag.

To initiate the plan, and so that I don’t have to traipse down to the café for no good reason, Ryan is actually going to go to the gym for his regular workout, which will give Nate the false sense of security he needs to leave the apartment while I’m still in it.

We decided all of this yesterday, so this morning we’ve kept the PDA to a minimum in front of Nate. A
throw-him-off-the-scent
tactic, if you will.

It’s killing me!

Every time I see Ryan stride into the kitchen and take a long drink of water, I want to climb him like a tree. I asked him to stop, but apparently he’s hydrating for his cardio session at the gym.

“Well, don’t over-do the cardio at the gym. You might be getting in some extra cardio tonight,” I say with a lascivious smile, keeping my voice low enough that Nate won’t hear.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. Everything I say seems to have a sexual connotation. I’ve never even had sex and I feel like it’s all I can think about.

Shame on you, Natalie Connor.

Damn Ryan and the bed of his truck. That’s what started all this. Well, that and his fingers...and mouth.

“Hmm. That sounds promising. Is my sweet, innocent girl feeling a little frisky?” Ryan asks with mischief in his eyes. Putting his arms around my waist, he plants a scorching kiss on my lips, causing my skin to sizzle from head to toe.

Innocent? Me?
Maybe I
was
, but I don’t feel very innocent with the thoughts that have been running through my mind lately. I can almost hear Great Grandma Gwendolyn tutting at me from beyond the grave, God rest her soul.

That being said, there is a small sliver of anxiety that makes its way to the surface when I think of being completely alone with Ryan. We haven’t been truly alone since that morning in the shower and, back then, both Ryan and I had the good sense to prevent things from going any further than the
favor
I returned. I don’t think either of us have the strength to do that now.

The memory of that morning makes me blush as Ryan continues to kiss me.

“Goddamn, your mouth is so fucking good, baby,” he says hoarsely, as his hand fists the hair on the back of my head, controlling my movements, his large frame protecting me from the spray of the shower...

“Stop it.” Nate’s warning breaks our kiss and brings me back to reality, where Ryan and I are fully clothed.

Sigh.

“Dammit,” Ryan mutters against my lips, so only I can hear. “I’m going to go get my gym gear ready. See you in a few,” he says at a normal level so Nate can hear, bopping me on the nose with his forefinger before striding to his bedroom, barely acknowledging my brother as he passes.

“I’m going to go get ready for my shift at the café,” I state with mild annoyance, so that Nate knows I don’t appreciate his interruption.

Please, let our plan work!

When Ryan heads out for his gym session, Nate leaves to go to a job site, as planned, and I’m left to ponder what that means.

In a little over an hour, I’ll be alone with Ryan.

What if I’m not ready to go further than what we’ve done so far? We haven’t been officially dating all that long (we haven’t even been on more than one official date!), but we have known each other for years, and he’s been so...loving.

He hasn’t actually said the words, not that I would expect him to; not this soon, anyway.

Should I wait until we’re ready to say it?

Ugh
. I’m so confused. As per usual.

Maybe I should make a pros and cons list. Pro: Naked Ryan. Con: Naked me, but Ryan doesn’t seem to mind seeing me naked. Quite the opposite. It was just one time in the shower, though. He was...distracted.

I’m not feeling anxious, exactly; more like apprehensive. My stomach isn’t in a tight knot, but it’s definitely doing some weird somersaults at the thought of what’s to come.

I know Ryan won’t pressure me to do anything I’m not ready for, so that explains why I’m not panicking, but I don’t want to disappoint him. What if I do go through with it and he’s still disappointed?

What if I’m not any good? Isn’t that a lot of women’s worst fear, though?

Jeez!
I need to get a hold of myself or I’ll go insane before he even gets home.

Realizing I now only have about forty minutes until Ryan is due back, I hop in the shower and get to prepping for whatever happens later.

When I get out of the shower, I put some music on my phone and sing along with Carrie Underwood while I moisturize and apply some light makeup. Belting out the high notes of
‘Good Girl’
, I startle when a knock sounds at the bathroom door.

Crap
!

Is it that late already? And how embarrassing! I love singing, but singing does not love me. I really shouldn’t attempt Carrie. The fact that Ryan just heard me is kind of horrifying.

Quickly turning off the music, I hear his barely-contained laughter through the door.

Ass
. Cute ass, but an ass none-the-less.

“You nearly done in there, Celine?” he snickers.

Is he mocking me with a reference to Celine Dion?
Ass!

Swallowing my humiliation, I finally muster up the courage to respond.

“Not really. I’ve got to dry my hair and stuff.” It’s impossible to keep the nerves from my voice.

“Leave it wet. I like it wet,” he says, all trace of laughter now absent.

“Um, okay. I’ve still got some other stuff to do, though,” I lie. I need more time to think! Or maybe that’s my problem. I’m thinking about this too much.

“Okay. Take your time, babe.”

Babe
. I love it when he calls me that.

God, I’m like a lovesick schoolgirl over him.

Feeling a little warm and fuzzy over his term of endearment, I put some anti-frizz products in my damp hair to tame the impending birds nest, and call it good. Then I just stare at my less-than-perfect reflection for a long moment, feeling a little lighter than before.

I’ll just go out there and do what feels right. If something doesn’t feel right, I won’t do it, and he’ll let me make that decision. I really can’t imagine anything not feeling right with him. Everything feels right in the world when he’s with me. It’s a little scary, to be honest.

I don’t know how I got to this place with Ryan so quickly, but I’m glad I did. He’s so different now from when we were kids, but he’s still the same, somehow. It’s endearing. I’m falling fast, and I can only hope he’ll be there to catch me.

He will be.

If there’s one thing I now know, it’s that life is fleeting. It can be gone in the blink of an eye and it’s too short to waste on pondering the ‘what ifs’ when something feels this perfect.

Putting on a pale pink sun-dress that requires no bra (thanks to the built-in cups), I slip on panties that, coincidentally, match the dress color, and I’m ready... I think.

I’m ready.

I’m ready.

I’m ready.

* * *

When I enter the living room, I wonder for a moment if I really did spend hours in the bathroom. It’s darker than it should be on a late-summer afternoon, but then I realize the thick curtains are closed over the large window and the kitchen blinds are also closed, almost sending the room into pitch darkness.

The only light is coming from the large TV and a couple of scented candles on the coffee table, which are emanating midnight jasmine. The light that they cast illuminates Ryan, sitting on the couch, looking a little pensive as he stares at the TV. There’s a perfect amount of stubble lining his jaw and I consider how rough it will feel against my skin later. The thought alone sends a pleasurable shiver of excitement down my spine.

Standing at the archway, I clear my throat to alert him of my presence and he looks up, giving me a megawatt smile that seems genuine. It’s in complete contrast to his expression just a second ago. I can’t help but wonder what he was thinking about.

“You look beautiful,” he says quietly as he leans forward from his relaxed position on the couch.

“Thank you,” I say shyly with my hands clasped behind my back, not really knowing how to proceed.

I take a moment to appreciate his appearance which, as ever, is mouthwatering. He’s in a tight white T-shirt, with the same cuff and watch adorning his wrists, a worn pair of jeans, and he’s barefoot.

He’s so hot
.

I really have no idea how I got a guy like him.

“Will you come and join me on the couch?” he asks with a glint in his eyes.

“Okay.” I tentatively make my way over to him and he abruptly grabs my hands and pulls me into his lap.

I make a small squeak of surprise and we both laugh a little. Wrapping my arms around his neck, my nose touches his and I close my eyes to savor the moment.

“Alone at last,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” I whisper back. “This is a very romantic set-up you’ve got here.” Then a crackle from the TV catches my attention and I turn to see what caused it.

A fire is burning on the big screen, doing everything a real fire does. It makes me giggle, since the TV is hanging over an actual fireplace.

Turning back to him, I say, “You know there’s a real fireplace there, right?”

“And it’s like ninety degrees outside,” he clarifies.

“Good point. Are those Nate’s decorative candles?”

“A man shouldn’t own decorative candles. They’re made for burning. And seducing beautiful women,” he mumbles, as he begins kissing my neck.

“I’m sure Nate will be thrilled you’re using his
decorative
candles to seduce his little sister,” I retort with amusement in my tone.

Nate will be pissed. The interior designer in him loves an unburned candle.

“Can we stop talking about your brother? We finally got rid of him and I want to enjoy every moment with you,” he says, with mild irritation, between kisses.

“Okay. Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,” he tells me before moving his attention to my lips.

At first, his kiss is soft and sweet, like he’s just tasting me. He licks gently at the seam of my mouth, and I part my lips so he can taste some more.

With my arms around his neck, I move my hands into his hair and grip lightly, causing him to hum appreciatively.

I guess he likes that.

My move causes the kiss to deepen, and my skin begins to feel hot all over.

He slowly leans back on the couch, shifting me effortlessly, so that I’m straddling him.

His move makes me lose all coherent thought, rendering my earlier worrying completely redundant. I can’t believe I even considered backing out.

My new position causes my hips to move involuntarily. It’s like a default setting whenever my thighs are spread over his.

I realize what a great idea this dress was when Ryan’s hands slowly move up my thighs, causing a tingling sensation beneath his touch. His caress is soft until he reaches my hips beneath the dress, where he grips firmly, slowing my movements.

I can feel how hard he is beneath his jeans, causing the delicious friction I’m desperately searching for.

He breaks the kiss and we both breathe heavily, sucking in the much-needed oxygen.

“This is gonna go from zero to a hundred real quick if you keep moving like that, Natty.” His voice is stern.

“I’m sorry,” I say bashfully.

My lack of experience means I really don’t know what I should be doing. I’m only doing what my body seems to want. I’m not thinking it through, and apparently I should be. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never done this,” I admit, still trying to catch my breath.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, baby. I just don’t have a lot of self-control when it comes to you. You’re doing everything right, and that’s the problem.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say, but the fact that he thinks I’m doing it right makes me happy, and so I smile. I can’t help it; he’s making me giddy.

I almost feel drunk.

“I want to make everything special for you. I don’t want to rush. I want to take my time and savor every single moment. But God help me, Natalie, I want to be inside you so damn bad right now it actually hurts.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. Just kiss me.”

I comply with his demand and kiss him harder than I ever have. I know what he means when he says it hurts. I’m aching so badly for him that it’s hard to concentrate on savoring the simple pleasure of kissing him, though there’s nothing simple about it.

An involuntary moan emits from me when his fingers brush the edge of my panties. That move always drives me crazy.

Please, touch me.

“Do you want me to touch you, Natalie?” he asks, as if reading my thoughts, before moving his lips to my neck, kissing and sucking gently.

“Hmm.”

“I want you to ask me. Say it,” he demands, his voice hoarse with need.

“Please!” I let go of the inhibitions, unable to resist what my body is begging for. “Please, touch me, Ryan.”

“Good girl.”

He kisses my lips then, and I gasp when his fingers dip beneath the edge of my underwear, moving leisurely, like he’s in no hurry, yet I know the opposite is true.

“Damn,” he almost growls. “You’re so ready and I’ve barely touched you.”

I hum my agreement, because I can feel how ready I am. I am too lost in the sensations running through me to be embarrassed about it, and have lost the ability to form any words to say.

I feel a finger nudge at the aching entrance to my body, and I still at the unfamiliar feeling. No one but me has ever been there (and even that hasn’t been frequent), hence my trepidation, but I quickly recover when Ryan’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

“Is this okay, baby?”

“Yes.” My answer is immediate and I nod my head to emphasize my answer. If he stops now, there’s a real possibility I might actually cry.

When he pushes a single finger inside me, the odd sensation quickly turns to utter pleasure. I’ve never felt anything like it. His touch feels so much different to my own. So much better.

I moan into his mouth as he continues, whilst I kiss him with more fervor than before. I’m desperate for him to continue what he’s doing and wanting him to do more at the same time.

He answers my silent request with a thumb on the sensitive bud of nerves begging for his attention, and I feel like I might spontaneously combust in his arms.

“Oh, my God,” I whisper as he moves his kiss back to my neck, gently licking the hot skin there.

Time stands still. He continues to kiss me for an indeterminable number of minutes, in perfect harmony with the movements of his hand, while the other arm is wrapped around my waist.

“Come for me, Natalie,” he requests and I comply, almost immediately. The resounding tingles pulsing through my body like my heartbeat.

As I come down from the high he’s given me, Ryan’s voice brings me back to reality, just barely.

“I don’t want to do this here. Put your arms around my neck and hold on.”

Before I know what’s happening, we’re off the couch and he’s carrying me, my legs around his waist and arms around his neck.

He continues gently kissing me as we enter his bedroom, and when he plops me on the bed, I see that it’s dark in here too, apart from a few lit candles (which I know aren’t Nate’s) dotted around the room.

“More candles? Anyone would think you planned this,” I say teasingly.

“I did,” he says with a wink and a smirk, before leaning down to kiss me, chastely, on the lips.

And then he removes his T-shirt and I can barely contain my excitement. I know I have what can only be described as an idiotic smile on my face.