Author: Bella Andre

“Thanks again for that,” he said softly as he brushed her hair back from her face with his hand, gently stroking her jaw.

Ryan was so good at this, at both playing the crowd and making everyone believe that his feelings for her were real. How on earth was she supposed to hide what she felt for him in front of all these people who were looking at her so carefully?

“So if you guys were teenagers when you met, what took you so long to make it happen?” one of his teammates asked. “I thought you were known for speed, Sullivan.”

Ryan didn’t take his eyes off Vicki as he said, “She moved away and the next thing I knew, she was marrying some other guy.”

She swallowed hard as his hand moved down to gently caress her neck and then her shoulders, before settling in again at the small of her back.

“I should have gone and fought him for you.” He wasn’t telling the story to the group now. Instead, he was speaking every word directly to her. “I regret every single day that I didn’t chase after you. Now that you’re mine, I’m never going to let you go.”

All of the players’ wives and girlfriends, along with the women from the back office, sighed as Ryan put words to every one of their fantasies.

Sadly, Vicki found herself doing the exact same thing. How many times over the years had she wondered what Ryan was doing, who he was with, whether he missed her?

Stop it, Vicki! Ryan was playing his part so beautifully he could have given Smith a run for his money on the big screen.

Cool.

She needed to keep playing it cool.

“So,” one of the prettiest women Vicki had ever set eyes on said, “how does it feel to have tamed the ultimate bad boy?”

The cool she’d been struggling for was quickly replaced with a hot rush through her veins. Vicki bristled not so much at the question, but at that hint of knowledge in the woman’s eyes and voice.

Clearly, Ryan had slept with her.

It shouldn’t matter. Vicki knew that on a rational level. After all, she and Ryan were just friends and he could do whatever he wanted, both before and after their fake engagement. But right here, right now, and for as long as they were pretending to be engaged, he was off limits.

Vicki heard the smoky laughter come from her throat as if she were across the room watching another woman in a sexy zippered dress standing with Ryan’s arm around her.

“Are you kidding?” She looked straight at the beautiful woman Ryan had slept with. “He’s nowhere close to being tame.” She put her hand on Ryan’s chest and felt the heat of him through her palm before she added her final zinger. “Thank God.”

When the other woman faked a laugh, Vicki let herself relish the flush of victory.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get to enjoy it for very long. Because mere seconds after the words left her lips, everyone in the room started chanting for a kiss to seal the deal.

Oh no, she thought as she looked up into Ryan’s dark eyes, what have I just done?

* * *

Did Vicki have any idea how gorgeous she was when she blushed like that, the perfect combination of sexy and shy? It was exactly the kind of expression that had a guy ready to do anything he could to amp up the sexy so that she forgot all about being shy while she was calling out his name from under him in his bed.

Ryan knew what everyone was picturing after what she’d just said about not being able to tame him—her naked curves beneath his muscles, the two of them in a rough and sweaty tangle in his bed.

Every guy in the room thought he was the luckiest bastard alive for getting to make love to her. They all thought he was going to be unzipping her soon, and putting his hands, his mouth on her. No doubt it was Vicki they’d be picturing later tonight, regardless of who they were actually in bed with.

He put his drink down and then hers before turning to her and cupping her face in his hands. “Should we give them what they want?”

She waited to answer him for long enough that he thought she might say no, regardless of the show they’d come to give tonight. He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until the moment she nodded.

All his teammates wanted was to see a kiss, but Ryan couldn’t resist brushing the pad of his thumb over her full lower lip first. Her eyes held his as she shivered in his arms and her breath sped up.

When he lowered his mouth to hers he intended to give her a soft and simple kiss, similar to the one he’d given her at the cocktail lounge. Hot enough to appease the watching crowd, but still just barely on the right side of the friendship line. He’d done it that first night in front of James, hadn’t he? Lips, but no tongue. No one expected anything more in public, so he knew he couldn’t use that excuse.

But when his lips touched hers, she was so sweet, so pliant in his arms, that all of Ryan’s plans for the kiss immediately crashed through the window and flew out over the Bay.

He had to tilt her face to get a better angle on her mouth and as she opened her lips on a gasp of pleasure, his tongue stole into her mouth in a desperate search for hers. When he stroked over it, Vicki’s tongue immediately licked his back. He slid one hand down from her face to pull her closer against him and her hands tangled in his hair as they deepened the kiss together.

It wasn’t until the sound of the catcalls and hooting and hollering from his teammates broke through the blood pounding in his ears that he remembered where they were...and what he was doing to Vicki in front of a roomful of spectators.

She must have realized it at the same time, because she looked shocked, then horrified, as she pulled back from him at the exact moment he forced himself to stop plundering her mouth.

Half afraid she would run after what he’d just done to her, he forced himself to whisper, “That was perfect,” as if he’d just been acting, rather than feeling the kiss all the way down to his soul.

He kept her close enough to his side to cover his hard-on, but not close enough that she’d feel it digging into her hip. “Show’s over now, folks. Go get your jollies somewhere else,” he joked, before turning away with Vicki and heading out onto the balcony for a private moment.

“You okay?”

Her cheeks were deeply flushed as she replied, “Sure.”

Well, that made one of them, then, because he wasn’t even close to okay after that kiss. He wanted another and another and another. But even that one had been pushing things.

Way over the friendship line.

Which was why he tried to joke, “I think we really convinced them with that kiss.”

Her eyes went translucent for a moment and he thought he saw a surge of emotion rush through her before she tamped it down. “Great. I’m glad we’re pulling this off.” Her mouth moved up into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “We should probably go back inside, shouldn’t we?”

Damn it, she wasn’t afraid to be alone with him now after the way he’d mauled her inside, was she?

He put his hand back under her chin and turned her face up to his. “Are you sure you’re okay? You can tell me if you’re not, Vicki. You can tell me anything.”

“I’m just not used to so much attention. I don’t know how you live like this all the time.”

“We’ll get out of here soon, I promise.”

“No,” she said with a small shake of her head, “this is your big party before the playoffs. We need to stay.”

That, right there, was one of the reasons he loved her. Where everyone else just thought about themselves, Vicki was never selfish. Whereas, even knowing how wrong it was to steal that hot kiss from her, he’d taken it anyway

Because he had to take it.

Hating himself for crossing the line he’d sworn not to cross, he said, “I’m sorry I kissed you like that, Vicki. I’m sorry I took advantage of the situation. And of you.”

She went completely still, her expression freezing on her face. “There’s nothing to forgive. They wanted to see you kiss your new fiancée, so you did.” She looked colder, harder than he’d ever seen her before as she said, “And since I kissed you back, I hope you can forgive me, too.”

A moment later, she was walking into the room and he was feeling like more of an ass than ever as he followed her inside. He didn’t know what he’d said wrong...just that he had definitely screwed things up even worse.

And he didn’t have the first clue how to fix it.

Chapter Fifteen

It was too much.

Ryan was too much.

They’d left the party ten minutes ago, but after the night she’d just had—and a kiss she didn’t think she’d ever be able to forget—Vicki simply couldn’t be this close to Ryan anymore.

She reached blindly for the silver handle inside the limo, but the door wouldn’t budge when she tried to push it open.

“Vicki?”

Her breath caught in her throat at nothing more than the sound of her name on Ryan’s lips, nearly choking her. So many times over the course of the night he’d said her name while reaching for her. And every single time, she’d tried to forcibly remind herself that it was all pretend, that none of it was real, that she wasn’t really his...and wouldn’t ever be.

Maybe, just maybe, she might have been able to succeed at heeding those constant reminders, if only he hadn’t added in the brush of his fingers over her shoulder, the stroke of his knuckles over her cheek, the press of his hand at her lower back as they moved through the room to talk with his teammates.

With every caress, every inch of his hard body against hers, she lost hold of her own body—and her heart—a little bit more. Until, at the end of the party, she’d been a quivering mess of nerves and lust and overwhelming need.

“I need to get out.” The desperation in her voice was painfully clear. But she was long past the point of being able to hide anything from anyone. Especially herself.

Which was precisely why she needed to get away.

Away from Ryan.

And away from her own desires.

“Stop the car, please!” Her voice was shrill as she teetered on the edge of shattering, right at the cusp of her breaking point.

A moment later, the limo smoothly pulled over to the side of the road and the lock clicked open. She nearly fell into the gutter in her hurry to escape its confines.

She didn’t have a plan, hadn’t thought ahead as to where she would go. When she looked up and saw the door to a bar, it seemed like divine providence.

A drink. Or maybe a dozen.

She’d do anything right now to dull the pulsing need, the potent memories on her skin of Ryan’s hands and mouth on her, his arms around her.

Vicki pushed in through the black and red door. Her fingertips brushed over paint that had been scratched off and repainted likely a hundred times since the bar had first started serving, and she tried to focus on the stickiness of the wood, the small and large divots in the grain where pieces had been knocked out by fists. Somehow, some way, she needed to fill up her well of tactile sensation with something other than Ryan.

All night long he’d been under her hands. For a sculptor, there was nothing more sensual than touch. All those touches had tipped her over the edge into near madness.

The soft cotton of his dress shirt beneath her fingertips.

His incredibly honed muscles just beneath the fabric.

The lines of his ribs.

The tendons that held everything together.

Her hands had shaken as she tried not to do what the artist in her demanded she do—trace the rises and falls of his body.

At the same time, tonight’s party had brought everything into such sharp relief that there was no way she could even try to deny just how wrong they were for each other.

Everything was easy for Ryan. His career, his relationships, his family. She, on the other hand, had struggled her whole life with her art, with making friends while always heading to a new town, with fitting in as an artist in a military family. Where Ryan was so utterly comfortable in his own skin, she’d never known quite how to feel about her abundance of curves on a body that wasn’t nearly tall enough to carry them.