Love Unrehearsed
Page 22“Ah, screw them. I want you there,” Pete retorted emphatically, poking the white tablecloth with his finger to emphasize his point.
The more I considered it, the more I envisioned Tammy’s wedding being ruined by party crashers and hundreds of photographers all vying for a clear shot of Ryan in a tux.
“No. It’s not a good idea,” I said remorsefully. “Just ask your cousin.”
Ryan cleared his throat. “Um, I don’t recall saying no,” he corrected me. “Can I get back to you on that, Pete?”
I didn’t understand why Ryan would need time to think about it. After the big deal that was made out of our proposal photos, I could only imagine the crap that would be printed from us being seen walking in and out of a church.
What’s going to happen when Ryan and I get married? My mind filled with visions of helicopters flying overhead, security everywhere wearing hidden communication earpieces like the damn Secret Ser-vice—checking to make sure that the poor caterers weren’t paparazzi spies.
Just as my mind started to drift further into those ghastly images, my slightly inebriated fiancé bit his teeth gently but firmly into the nape of my neck.
A heated tickle shivered through me as he whispered “dance with me” into my ear.
Ryan led me by the hand, weaving us through the bodies that slowly swayed on the dance floor. The tacky mirror ball that twirled over the center of the floor cast sparkles of twinkling light through the darkness, swirling me further into this amazingly enchanted evening.
I caressed the nape of his neck as he wrapped me securely in his arms, resting his cheek on my temple. It was nice to share a moment of peace in this very stressful day.
Ryan gently smiled. “Are you having fun?” I beamed back at him and nodded. “Yes.
His deep voice lowered. “Thank you for sharing it with me. You really impressed me tonight, schmoozing with Universal’s money-men like that. You really know your shit about finances.”
I shrugged. “I know enough to be dangerous. I just want to learn as much as I can about this business, that’s all.”
“Learn? By the look on Jeff Westfield’s face when you started telling him all that shit about P/E ratios and ways he can diversify his whatever, I’d say you were the teacher, sweetheart.”
Doubtful. Although I was trying to impress, I didn’t want to be thought of as nothing more than arm candy with boobs.
“You don’t think? He just offered you a job. At Universal.”
“A comment like ‘if you’re ever in ll.A. and need anything, come see me’ hardly consti-tutes a job offer, Ryan. He was just being nice.”
Ryan didn’t agree. “For someone who can read people well, you’re way off on this one.”
“I can read you,” I said smugly.
“Oh yeah? Can you tell what I’m thinking now?” That smirk of his contained many innuendos.
Our mutual smiles led to a kiss—one that was almost impolite considering we were among several hundred people. His lips parted and his tongue reached for mine and I couldn’t help but drink him in. The tastes of whiskey and beer blended with champagne and chocolate, creating a flavor that was all our own.
“Oh really?”
I teased, somewhat breathless.
“Uh huh.” Ryan nodded devilishly. His eyes narrowed on me. “What, aren’t you in the mood?”
“No, no, I am. Absolutely,” I quickly replied. “But . . .”
“But what?”
“I’m just curious. So what is it exactly that you want to do to me? It’s just . . . I want to know what’s in store for me before I agree to leave this wonderful party.” Ryan smirked, his hand resting on the small of my back, guiding our hips. “I thought we’d play it by ear. See what pops up when we get there. But I can definitely tell you that I have something huge that I want to give ya.”
I made a face at him, biting my lip thinking about it. “Er . . . I don’t know. I was hoping for more details than that. I think you’ll have to come up with a better script.” He folded our hands to his chest and swayed us to the beat.
“How about we play ‘bad cop–hooker’? I’d like to see you restrained.” With full intent to tease, I sneered at his suggestion. “I’ve seen that movie already.
Maybe you should hire a scriptwriter. I think I met a few of those tonight. Let me go find one . . .”
Ryan pulled me back to his chest roughly, never releasing his hold on my hand.
“Great . . . sloppy five-minute drunken sex,” I whined, messing with him further.
Ryan gave me a playful leer and tightened his grip on my body. “Believe me, woman, I’m far from drunk. I’m going to take my good ol’ time with you,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear. “Use the sheets to tie your little smart ass to the bed. Punish you for doubting me. See how long you can ride my tongue before you scream.” His erotic words tugged on that sweet spot deep within my core. I could definitely go for one of his tongue lashings.
I ran a hand over his hard chest, down his flat stomach, imagining my fingernails turning into claws, effortlessly shredding the white dress shirt that separated me from his skin. I whispered into his ear, “I’m betting that you pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.”
He took the back of my neck in a possessive grasp as he raked his top teeth over his lip. “That’s a bet you’re sure to lose, my love, because I am definitely, definitely up for the challenge.”
I squeezed my fingers into his buttocks, coaxing his hips to grind in a bit harder as if he were already naked and between my legs.
I didn’t care that we were in a room full of people.
The music swirled and the lights danced around us, sending my blood into hyper-drive. Ryan’s finger drifted, seductively snaking down my neck, over the hollow of my throat, down to the crest of my cleavage. I envisioned his tongue snaking the same path.
He sighed, almost saddened, resigned.
“The hardest part is knowing that underneath this incredibly sexy dress is a totally hot lace bustier and sheer panties that you put on when you thought I wasn’t looking.