Read Love Unrehearsed Page 13


  I snuggled with a pillow on the bed. “You still need go to your premiere. You know that, right?”

  Ryan grabbed his cell. “David, what’s the stylist’s name that’s traveling with Jenna? No, the girl that does makeup. I need you to find her and send her up here.”

  After he ended the call, he climbed over the bed to me. I curled up to his chest.

  “I know why you’re bent . . . and I don’t care what the papers will say. A week from now it will be forgotten and someone else will wear the target for a day.”

  What a relief. “Thank you. I’m glad we can talk things out like this.”

  He stared at me for the longest time. I could sense the sadness building. “When I think of the things that could have happened to you, worse than these scratches on your cheek—”

  I stilled his lips with my fingers. “Shh. Stop.”

  His hand brushed down my side, pausing over my stomach. His eyes scrunched closed and he swallowed hard. “You will always be my first priority, Taryn. Always. Just knowing you were hurt today is killing me.”

  I gazed into his eyes. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. I love you so much. But . . . I am not going to add any more fuel to this situation by appearing battle-scarred in public. I won’t . . .”

  Visions of thousands of cameras chasing down picture evidence of my wounds scorched my mind. “I will not embarrass you that way. I promise. I’ll be here when you get back. No matter what time that is.”

  He frowned. “I don’t think so. Since you insist that I go to the premiere and I absolutely refuse to leave you behind, I guess we have to compromise. I’ll have a separate car take you so you won’t be visible to the general public. I think you know how this works now.”

  I nodded.

  “You can skip the more public appearances, but you will be with me every other moment tonight. And that, my love, is nonnegotiable.”

  Chapter 8

  Recover

  We had barely parked our luggage in the foyer of our newly rented condo when Ryan began to peel his clothes off. He pulled his T-shirt up, revealing his muscular body and those glorious washboard abs.

  My mouth watered, admiring the poetry in motion stalking me like a hungry predator, all chiseled and cut to perfection. No wonder women around the globe practically faint in his presence. He was breathtaking. And all mine.

  With a playful smirk he tossed his shirt to the floor, driving me back into the depths of a dimly lit room. Six days had passed since the Paris debacle but the press was unrelenting. I knew his ego was also smarting since Reparation wasn’t pulling in the box-office sales that his team had hoped for. Ryan, however, continued with the pretense of being unfazed by it all.

  “Looks like a nice place,” I said jokingly, unable to tear my eyes away from his heated stare. Everything beyond his smoldering blue eyes seemed to blend into a blur of neutral color.

  I took a few steps backward, afraid to drop my guard, bumping into a decorative chair along the way.

  My backpack slipped off my shoulder and hit the floor.

  He nodded once, not caring in the least what the place looked like. “Find the bedroom.”

  “Don’t you want to unpack first?”

  His gaze was dark and full of lust. “No. Sex first. You have five seconds to get naked or I will rip those clothes right off of you.”

  My pulse spiked. “Someone a bit anxious?”

  He returned with a salacious smile. “You started this.”

  “Uh-uh. You were the one bragging. Think you can best your five orgasms? Not that I doubt your mad skills or anything.”

  “Oh, do I have plans for that mouth of yours.” He continued his prowl, stripping his socks with each step. “Three seconds. Lose the clothes, Tar. Now. Or do you want me to leave red fingerprints on your ass?”

  “You wouldn’t . . .”

  The devil in his glare said oh hell yeah, I would.

  “Want to find out?” He prowled, closing the gap. His admonishing tone heated my skin. “You might like it.”

  I only managed to get one shoe off while removing my shirt, backing up with every step. My retreat was halted by the couch.

  “That’s a good place to start.” Ryan grabbed the front of my jeans and yanked me forward.

  “You’re so adorable when you’re flustered,” he murmured, drifting his fingertips down my cheek, softly, reverently. “Let me be the first to welcome you to Vancouver.” He opened my belt, slowly pulling each inch of the leather free from their loops. “We’re gonna have to perform a cavity search, though.

  Make sure you didn’t smuggle anything into Canada. I’m going to keep this item in case you need restraining.”

  He tucked my belt into the back pocket of his jeans.

  My heated pulse jumped another degree.

  Zipper down, his hands slid over my rear, fingers curving right into where I burned the most.

  He had been toying with me the entire flight, innocently brushing fingertips over my chest, whispering

  in my ear all the things he was planning on doing to me. Torturing me into this frenzied state.

  His mouth locked on mine, kissing me into oblivion. Nimble fingers unlatched my bra while I shoved his jeans down on his hips, clutching his arousal firmly.

  “Enough foreplay. I need to be inside you—now,” he groaned in my mouth.

  I used my foot to push his jeans the rest of the way down to this ankles. “What are you waiting for?

  Take what’s yours.”

  “Plan on it. Just making sure you’re ready for me.” He fell back on the cushions, deftly pulling my legs over his thighs so I was straddling him.

  He gasped then groaned when he was fully seated inside. Sinking down on him was shear bliss, like coming home. Cheek to cheek, his hands held my hips, rocking me back and forth as my knees gave us lift.

  I sucked the curve of his top lip, lost in his kiss and skillful tongue.

  His kiss drifted to my chin, my neck. I cradled his head in my hands when he took my breast into his mouth. I relished his hard tug, melting my entire existence into sensory overload.

  In an instant, I was dipped backward, hissing when my skin came in contact with the cold wood of the coffee table.

  He withdrew and replaced my sudden emptiness with his mouth and fingers. My back arched, moaning from his touch.

  He bit his teeth into my thigh, driving his fingers into me with no mercy in sight.

  The moment his tongue returned, I flew apart.

  “That’s one.” I felt his smug smile turn into tender kisses on my skin. He pulled me flush to his chest, sucking my neck below my ear. “Five more to go.”

  Oh shit. I should have never challenged him.

  “Stand up,” he ordered. Ryan pressed his chest to my back, wrapped an arm across my chest, and, with a quick leg lift, pushed back inside me. His other hand snaked down to where we were joined. Holy hell. Standing jackhammered sex. He was on fire, taking me with him into the flame.

  He bent me over the couch. Wet fingers started rubbing and pinching over my sensitive skin.

  A few more moments of this and I’ll be over the edge again. “Don’t stop,” I ordered breathlessly.

  “I’m close,” he growled. “Come with me.”

  Knowing I had this man wound so tight he was exploding was my undoing. This one hit harder than the first. On a curse and a gasp, I cried out from the surge of pleasure. He was slamming me so deep, prolonging my mind-blowing orgasm, dangling me on the precipice of pleasurable pain.

  His hands dug into my flesh as he found his release, groaning with each pulse.

  We ended up collapsed on the couch. Both of us panting and spent. His hand was so soothing, running from the back of my head and down my spine as I lay on top of him.

  “This is a comfy couch,” he snickered while tempering his breathing.

  I grunted. So was his chest. “I’m ready for a nap.”

  “Oh, no. No sleeping. We’re just
taking a rest. We still have to test the shower and the bed and that dining table over there. And you still have four more orgasms to achieve.”

  I grinned so wide it hurt.

  Ryan’s cell rang again. It was still light out but I didn’t care. I was mostly under the covers, naked and entwined around the love of my life, balancing on the edge of bliss and unconsciousness. My entire body felt as if my bones had disappeared somewhere between the fourth and fifth orgasm. He managed to take me to six.

  He kissed my forehead. “Are we taking any calls yet?”

  I managed a nod. “I’m done.”

  “For now,” he added, kissing my hand that was still laced in his.

  I wondered if he could feel my eyes roll on his chest.

  He fished his cell out of his pants pocket. “That was my mother again. I’ll call her later. I can’t do mom convos after four hours of sex.”

  I quickly became acutely aware of how many muscles were needed to muster a tiny laugh.

  As he was toggling through his texts, his phone chimed again. “Boy, we’re popular.”

  I had turned my phone off earlier; I was surprised he answered his.

  “Hi, Marie. No, it’s okay. Wait. Slow down. I can’t understand you.” He sat up suddenly. “Yeah, she’s right here. Hang on.”

  The second I heard her voice, the way she said my name, I knew something terrible had happened.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Marie sniffed. “Hey, listen. I don’t mean to bother you but would you mind if I borrowed your car?”

  Odd. “Yeah, sure. Take it if you need it. You know where the keys are. Did your car break down?”

  I heard her faint, humorless chuckle. “No. I, uh, no longer have one.”

  Ryan was staring at me.

  “Gary came here today. He took my car back, Tar.”

  I stared back at Ryan. “What do you mean Gary took your car back? Like repossessed it?”

  Marie blew her nose and tried to talk through angry tears. “Yep. He said since it’s in his name, it’s his.

  Whatever. It was a piece of junk anyway.”

  “Why is he being such an ass?” Ryan asked.

  I held up a finger for him to wait. “He can’t just take your car, Marie. I don’t care whose name is on it.”

  “That’s marital property,” Ryan added.

  Desire to kick Gary in the balls was overwhelming. “You need to see an attorney . . . now.”

  “I know. I have some calls to make,” she said sadly. “This was the final straw.”

  I wanted an answer to Ryan’s question. “Marie, why is he being like this? I mean, he’s becoming spitefully cruel.”

  She scoffed. “Tell me about it. Taryn, I saw him with her. I went over to his work to confront him and he was leaning in her damn car. And then I went over to my house to get some of my stuff and my key wouldn’t work. He changed all of the locks on the house, Taryn! He said since I’ve never appreciated anything he’s ever done for me that I can try going without.”

  Ryan nodded his chin at me, wanting to know what was going on.

  I shook my head adamantly. “Marie, he cannot just lock you out of your own house.”

  Ryan’s eyes opened wide with shock from hearing my side of the conversation.

  “You know, I’ve been trying to figure it out. Ever since he went out that one night with his bachelor buddies in January, we’ve been fighting. Right after that he started getting mysterious phone calls and texts and shit. Telling me to mind my own business whenever I asked about them. He was never like that, Tar. Never.”

  “Did you flat out ask him why he’s being like this?”

  “Yeah, I did,” she sighed. “But he never answers the direct question. He just throws it up in my face about how he’s sick of me doing this shit to him, whatever that means. At first I thought it was because we weren’t spending enough time together, but when I am home, he’s out in the garage working on something, ignoring me,” she scoffed. “He’s dredging up shit that happened years ago.”

  “Oh man,” I groaned.

  “Whatever. Anyway,” she breathed out, sniffing. “Enough about that. How are you? I’ve been really worried about you since you left Paris.”

  There was no way I could think of my petty problems. “Do you need me to come home? I’m coming home. You shouldn’t be alone. I’ll see about getting a flight—”

  “No you will not,” she said, cutting me off. “You and Ryan need this time together.”

  “But—”

  “No, I’m good. You stick to the original plan and I’ll see you when you get home in a few weeks,”

  Marie insisted.

  After we had said our goodbyes, Ryan nudged me, frowning. “How is she holding up?” One look was all I needed to give him. I could barely contain the tears and rage within myself. “He repossessed her car?”

  I nodded. “Came into the bar and demanded the keys.”

  “I can’t believe Gary’s being such a prick.” Ryan gave me a consoling rub. “Seems out of character.”

  “I can. They’ve been fighting and I’m sure she’s said some things she might regret. But now he’s trying to prove a point by stripping away everything he’s ever given her. God, I need to do something. She has the keys to my car so she’s got a way to get around, but still.”

  “She needs to hire a good attorney is what she needs to do. He can’t do shit like that. And I tell ya, if he’s fucking around on her, then I want nothing to do with him. You know how I feel about that.”

  Ryan snuggled next to me and I rested my head on his shoulder. “I need to go home soon. I can’t strap her with running the pub while her life is crumbling. I want to be with her when she goes to the lawyer.

  It’s important to me to be there for her. She’s my best friend.”

  He sighed. “I know.” He laced our fingers together. “She’s got my support, too. Whatever she needs.

  You know we can afford it. After all, I do owe her a huge debt of gratitude. She helped me see things clearly when I wasn’t.”

  I knew just by his expression that he was referring to all that she had done to keep him and me together, even when it seemed that we’d never get over our trust issues. Should I be doing the same for her? Trying to patch things up between her and Gary before they became irreparable? One thing was for sure—I’d pay for an attorney before I’d let Gary do more damage.

  “Tar, tell me the truth. The way he’s acting . . . did she cheat on him?”

  My head popped off his shoulder. “No. No, never. I suspect it’s the other way around.”

  He rubbed my shoulder. “Honey, I know you’re torn up. And I know I’m being a totally selfish bastard when I say this, but I’m not going to lie and say it’s okay for you to run back home right now. I know you want to be there for her but we need this time together.”

  “I know. And I’m not running anywhere.”

  He gently tugged my chin up. “I don’t want shit like this to ever happen to us. I won’t let our love go there, Tar. I won’t. I swear to God. I told you that you will always come first and I mean that. I want to give you the world and never take it back and I won’t let anything stand in the way of that. But I’m also under contract here. No matter what, I still want to provide for my wife and family.”

  I snuggled into his chest. “I know, babe. This is your job and I fully support it. I know where your heart is.”

  Ryan’s fingers drifted over my faint scars. “I really want you to know what it’s like to be on set with me. You asked me to help you understand it all and I don’t know of any other way to do that except to have you experience it all.”

  I nodded. “I want that, too. But I also know that she’s back there dealing with my bar and going out of her mind at the same time. Of course my only reaction is to want to fix it.” And kill Gary.

  “So let Cory run the bar for a couple of days and tell her to come to Vancouver. She probably needs to get the hell out of there anyw
ay. Change of scenery would do her good.”

  I pondered that for a moment, wanting to be sure his offer was genuine. “Are you serious?” I had no qualms about closing the bar for a few days, knowing Cory couldn’t handle running the bar by himself.

  He’d only been working as a bartender for me for six months.

  He nodded and gave me that small, crooked smile of reassurance. “She’s your best friend. She needs you. And I start conditioning training in the morning. You girls can hang out, do girl stuff.”

  Gripping his cheek, I kissed him. “Thank you. Your understanding means the world to me.”

  His hand locked around my wrist. “Hey! Where are you going?”

  “I want to check flights and buy tickets.”

  Ryan rolled out from underneath me and playfully pressed my head back into my pillow. “Stay put, love. We have a travel agent at our disposal, remember? I’ll take care of it.”

  After everything was arranged he was back in my arms, answering my question of how I could repay his kindness in whispered replies, all of which revolved around orgasms numbered seven and eight. I was so willing to pay up.

  The minute I saw Marie in the terminal, her wry smile instantly turned to tears. It had taken some convincing, but I finally got her to agree to come. My heart sank and constricted hard from her misery.

  We’d been through so much together, so much loss and heartache and devastation, but our emotional support for one another was unwavering.

  Time after time our friendship had been tested, like a battle-worn ship that refused to sink. She’d been my rock when my mom died and my salvation when the guilt and pain had been too much. She held me while I trembled as the paramedics took my father’s body off the floor of the pub and away in an ambulance.

  I nearly went out of my mind when she wrapped her car around a tree just nine days after we had graduated from high school; I spent every waking moment thereafter nursing her back to health. I was her maid of honor.

  And now, today, we were adding another heartbreaking page to our eternal-friendship history book.