Those liquid brown eyes glimmered with amusement. “Yeah, I’m sure it is.”
He found it difficult to walk to the door, particularly since his c**k was still rock-hard and refusing to go down. But monster erection aside, he found it difficult to walk away from her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun with a woman. Unfortunately, the fun was one-sided. Annabelle was now tapping her foot all sexy-like, eager to see him go.
She trailed after him down the dark hallway toward the front door, then said, “G’night now, it was awesome meeting you.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Uh, no. I was being fake nice.” She huffed. “Honestly, Roger—”
“Ryan—”
“—I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m exhausted. I want to go to bed—” She raised a hand before he could open his mouth. “Alone. I want to go to bed alone, and fall asleep alone, and wake up in the morning, alone. Okay?”
“Like I said, your loss.”
The corners of her pouty mouth lifted, just a little. Oh yeah. She liked him. He could always tell when a girl liked him, and this one, no matter how prickly and off-putting she was trying to be, totally liked him.
“How long are you staying here?” he couldn’t help but ask, pausing in the doorway before she could boot him out.
She eyed him suspiciously. “Why do you want to know? Are you planning on sliding into bed with me tomorrow night?”
“Will you be here tomorrow night?” he countered.
Annabelle hesitated. “Yes. I’m here for a few weeks.”
Ryan gave himself a mental high-five. Oh yeah. Three weeks. He could definitely work his magic on her in three weeks. Hell, he’d probably only need three days, maybe less, to win over this woman. Why he wanted to win her over so badly eluded him, but who cared why? As long as it distracted him from the fact that Jane was having a baby with Becker, he was cool.
“Well, I look forward to seeing you again then,” Ryan said, letting his gaze sweep from her face down to her cle**age and then back up.
She rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to see each other again. I plan to diligently avoid you.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Good night, Rick.”
“Ryan.”
With a sweet smile, she gave his butt a little shove and pushed him out the door. “Good night,” she said again, and then the door closed in his face.
Ryan’s mouth stretched out in a grin as he stared at the door and listened to the sound of the lock clicking. “’Night, Annabelle,” he called sweetly before turning toward the stairwell.
Still holding onto his clothes, he climbed down the stairs to his own apartment, still smiling to himself when he strode inside. Matt had left hours ago, and the apartment was dark and quiet as he locked up and headed for his bedroom. He was too keyed up to sleep, meeting Annabelle had been way too much fun, and his erection refused to subside. Sighing, he dropped his clothes on the chair near the bed, and just as he was debating whether to jerk off or watch TV, a flash of yellow caught his eye. Furrowing his eyebrows, he stepped toward the chair and picked up his jeans. Shook them out a couple of times, then watched as a piece of paper fluttered to the hardwood floor.
He bent down to pick it up, noticing that the paper had been torn from one of those yellow legal pads. Feminine handwriting was scrawled across the page, and, unable to fight his curiosity, he smoothed out the sheet and read the first line.
His jaw twitched, then fell open as the words on the page assaulted his eyes. It wasn’t only the intriguing heading that caught his attention—I’m Up For This. Are You?—but the dirty little items that followed. He read each one. Twice.
Still staring at the list, Ryan broke out in a slow smile. Well…damn.
Hot f**king damn.
No matter how hard she tried, Annabelle couldn’t get her late-night visitor out of her mind. She spent the morning answering emails and trying to not think about Ryan, but every five seconds, the memory of his gorgeous face and drool-worthy body would float into her mind like a piece of driftwood. Hands down, he was the hottest guy she’d ever met. She still couldn’t believe he was even real. When she’d woken up to find those playful blue eyes on her and that lean, muscular body pressed against her, she’d thought she was dreaming.
During their entire exchange, she’d been fighting little sparks of desire. That spot between her legs had ached in the strangest way and her br**sts had felt so heavy and tingly she’d had to cross her arms over her chest. If he’d stayed for even five more minutes, she probably would’ve jumped him.
So why did you throw him out?
Uh, Bryce? she reminded the voice in her head.
You mean the guy who dumped you?
She ignored the taunting reply and headed for the bathroom to get a towel. Fine, so maybe she didn’t owe anything to her as-of-two-days-ago ex, but she wasn’t the type of girl to hop into bed with a stranger. She was Annabelle Holmes, for Pete’s sake. Her parents had raised her to be a perfect lady, and ladies didn’t have sex with random men, no matter how appealing they might be.
She found the towel and slung it over her shoulder, then left Christina’s apartment and walked downstairs. The courtyard was empty when she stepped out into the hot afternoon air, and the pool looked so inviting she had her shorts and tank off before she even reached the deck. Tilting her head, she let the sun’s rays heat her face. Beads of sweat formed between her br**sts, but she welcomed the heat, and she was happy to finally get a chance to wear this teeny yellow string bikini. It never got this hot in San Francisco, and the change of scenery was refreshing. Kicking off her flip-flops, she moved to the edge of the pool, took a breath, and dived cleanly into the deep end.