I own nothing but my own words.
Chapter Two
5 Years Ago…
"Where are you?!"
"I'm not going to make it."
"Landon, you know how important this is," Hope practically hissed into her phone. "The event and afterwards."
"The second song is taking longer than expected," he said apologetically. "You know I'd be there if I could."
For the event, yes, she knew Landon would be there in a heartbeat.
But he knew she was ovulating, and they had argued too much about it for him to feel anything but frustrated by the entire situation and relieved he wouldn't be home in time.
They were together for two years before they were married, and they had been trying for a baby practically since they said 'I do'. After a year without success, Hope finally convinced Landon to go with her for a consultation to see if anything was wrong.
There was nothing wrong with Hope.
But the specialist gave the harsh news that Landon was infertile. It wasn't possible for him to conceive at all. Not even the slimmest chance. There wasn't anything he could do.
Landon didn't want to hear it.
So, they got a second opinion. And a third. And so on, until someone finally told him there was a "slight chance" of conception, though it was highly unlikely.
She wished they never went to that last doctor.
Hope accepted that it wouldn't be possible to conceive naturally. That didn't change the fact that she wanted a child. And she would take one however she could get one.
She talked with Landon about artificial insemination. That was the reason donations existed, right? But, no. He wanted a child that was theirs biologically. And that last doctor had convinced him it would be possible.
Okay, fine, she would accept that and wait. But what about adoption? While they were waiting for this rare possibility to occur, couldn't they adopt a child in the meantime? Biologically, it wouldn't belong to either of them, but it would still be theirs.
And even though he himself had been adopted and knew there were children out there who desperately needed families, he still said no. He heard too many stories about couples going through with an adoption only to end up pregnant right after.
She tried to convince him that two children were even better than one.
But no matter what argument she used, he wouldn't budge.
And it was making her miserable.
She knew there was more to married life than having children, but she couldn't let it go.
She came from a big family and she always dreamed of having one herself. She was an only child, but her father was one of seven. Her parents had her early in life—a happy accident that they loved and adored. They were never meant to be together forever, but she liked to think they found the person they were meant to be with before they died. If they survived, who knows how many siblings she would have by now?
Landon knew all this before they married. He even agreed with her. He was all for having a big family.
Had he forgotten everything they once talked about? Or was he just ignoring it all because it couldn't happen the way they planned it? The way things were lately, it felt like he didn't seem to care about her feelings anymore. It made her so angry that he wouldn't listen to her or even consider any other option.
Feeling like she didn't have a choice, she went along with what he wanted and did the only thing she could do.
Pay close attention to her cycle, figure out which days she was most likely to conceive, make notes on her calendar and his calendar, and hope one day they actually would get lucky though she wasn't holding her breath.
Turned out, scheduling exactly when they were going to have sex each month wasn't very sexy at all. It just made her even more demanding and annoyed him even more.
Landon had "conveniently" been out of town for the past two months when she happened to be ovulating, and this made the third time.
It almost felt like… he had given up.
Maybe he had, he just didn't feel the need to tell her. Using his latest work trip as an excuse to run away from the problem instead of talking it out was pretty on par with him.
And that disappointed her more than she cared to admit.
Looking down at the gold band on her left ring finger, she gave in to a thought she never wanted to consider.
She wasn't happy anymore.
Maybe she had chosen the wrong person to spend the rest of her life with.
She never loved anyone else like she loved him but loving him wasn't the problem.
The problem was…she didn't feel like he loved her, not anymore.
She wasn't one to give up, she was too stubborn for that, but she couldn't make someone feel something they didn't feel.
"I know you would," she said finally, knowing he could probably hear the defeat in her voice.
"We'll talk when I get back," he said.
"Yeah, we should talk," she agreed.
Closing her eyes, she removed the ring.
She hardly ever took it off but right now she couldn't stand to look at it.
"Good night, Landon."
She tucked the ring into her clutch.
"Have a good time tonight," he said quickly. "I love you."
She ended the call without responding further.
Determined not to think about Landon or what felt like the impending end of their marriage, she tried to clear her mind.
Tonight was a big night.
The old adage about art being more valuable and the artist becoming more popular after death was very true.
Niklaus Mikaelson was infamous in life, and famous in death.
She managed to get away after her speech and the unveiling of the portraits, but she knew her attendance would be missed if she waited too long to return. Guests would be practically lined up to tell her their opinion. She knew from experience most would be complimentary, but there were a few who were stalwart critics of her father's work. They would be polite but very brutal in their criticism. She found it amusing they thought she cared to know their thoughts. But if they were willing to pay the steep entry fee to attend the fundraiser and unveiling just to be the first to offer their negative opinion, so be it.
Her family gave her the 'privilege' of being there tonight. None of them particularly felt the need to schmooze with the rich donors. She didn't either, but someone had to.
And it was better than her father's masterpieces being tucked away at the family manor. This way, the museum would preserve them; and, countless visitors to the museum would be able to enjoy what, in Hope's opinion, were priceless works of art.
There would be a couple collectors tonight who would offer a very generous amount for one of the paintings, or even both, but that was the thing about a work being priceless—you couldn't put a price on it. No, the paintings would remain as part of the Mikaelson estate just as they had since her father's death ten years ago. They would remain on loan to the museum for the foreseeable future.
Sneaking away to make her call proved successful but deep thoughts distracting her were nearly her downfall as she quickly ascended the five small steps to make her way back to the main hall.
The heel on her Jimmy Choo missed the back of one step and she fell backwards, unable to grab hold of the railing in time.
Bracing herself, she waited for impact with the floor but instead found herself lifted in a set of strong arms.
"Gotcha," a cheerful male voice said.
She stared up into a pair of gorgeous brown eyes and a face that would have quite literally taken her breath away if she hadn't already lost it when she fell.
There was a moment of silence as she stared at him, but then she realized she should probably stand up so she made to move.
He helped her find her footing and she released him.
"Thank you," she said with a small smile. Her mood wasn't the happiest but she was very glad he showed up when he did. Face planting on the floor at this event was the last thing she needed.
"Not a problem," he shrugged with an adorable grin. "I knew there was a reason I was running late. Someone had to catch you."
"See, that's what I say every time I'm tardy," she found her first laugh of the evening. "Everything happens for a reason."
"When that reason is a beautiful woman falling into your arms, I'd have to agree," he winked.
She laughed again, feeling the earlier tension and anger melt away. It was ages since she last flirted with anyone. Turned out, she still liked it. A lot.
"So, tell me, what did I miss?" he nodded toward the main hall.
"Just a long boring speech," she smiled to herself.
Her speech was longer than usual. The museum requested she mention more than the required fodder. She had to highlight various features of the museum. She would have been yawning if she had been forced to listen to all of that.
"And the unveiling?" he asked hopefully.
"Unfortunately," she said. "But, never fear, the portraits aren't going anywhere."
"Ah, so they're portraits," he said, nodding. "He usually did landscapes, didn't he?"
"Following his muse to make a change, I suppose," she replied.
Speaking of her father, she really needed to return to the main hall.
"I have to go. Thanks again," she smiled and then gripped the railing as she ascended the stairs once more.
Even though she spent the next couple of hours mingling with all the guests, she was hyperaware of his location the entire time.
When a particularly boring patron was going on and on about her father's brilliance, she found herself looking for and finding him immediately. He was mingling as well, chatting with some of the more affluent guests. That smile on his face exuded charm and intelligence.
He paused to take a drink and his eyes found hers across the room. When he moved his glass to toast her silently, she returned the gesture, smiling in reply to his knowing smirk before turning back to her conversation.
She lost track of the number of times his eyes found hers when she glanced at him, or the number of times she sensed his gaze on her only to glimpse him watching her instead.
Though she didn't understand why her eyes were drawn to him so much, she had to admit he was making the entire night bearable.
An hour later found her zoning out of yet another conversation so she could watch him. For the first time, he was faced away from her. She took the opportunity to study more of him.
The museum's event was black tie optional, so instead of something incredibly formal, he chose to wear a dark suit with a crisp white dress shirt and matching dark tie. He looked amazing in it.
She herself had gone with a formal full length halter black satin gown with a slit up the side. She knew she looked good, though a bit more conservative as was warranted for the occasion.
Finally, she was granted a brief reprieve from the guests when no one seemed to demand her attention for the moment. She took the opportunity to meander to the side of the room far from her father's newest releases and admire the artwork there. Taking a deep breath, she tried to clear her mind and relax, hoping everyone left her alone just a little longer.
"Hard to get a word alone with you."
Glancing to the side, she relaxed even further. Hoping everyone left her alone except for him, of course. Him, she very much welcomed in her presence.
"Quick, now's your chance," she said with a teasing laugh.
"If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?" he asked.
"That's the question you choose to go with? Not about the new Mikaelsons or this Eliphalet Frazer Andrews?" she asked, motioning to the portrait on the wall in front of her. "Or, any number of other portraits gracing the hall?"
"I suppose that would make more sense since we're here," he nodded, glancing around.
"Mmhmm," she agreed.
"Or, I could ask something as conventional as your favorite color, or even the style of your shoe so I can avoid those in future," he teased, tilting his head in consideration.
"Jimmy Choo, and I don't think they have any in your size," she turned and glanced at his feet.
"True," he laughed, turning to face her as well. "And asking a lover of art their favorite color seems quite impossible to answer for one color can have hundreds of different shades and one might feel more strongly of some but not the other."
"You're an artist as well?" she inquired.
"No, I simply appreciate the fine detail in the colors," he said.
"In other words, you don't have a favorite color," she concluded.
"Oh, but I do," he corrected her. "At least tonight anyway."
His gaze slowly took her entire body in, starting from the bottom of her gown and rising.
"Black."
His eyes found her bare arms and traced the skin.
"Or, maybe a soft light porcelain peach."
His eyes climbed further and met her eyes.
"No, definitely blue," he murmured, his eyes boring into hers.
She blinked, for once not blushing at his flirtation but instead feeling something quite different. Something quite womanly…though she wasn't sure how she felt about that.
"Mostly, I believe you need more time to give your answer," he winked. "When you have it, you know where I'll be."
She watched him walk away with bated breath, actually impressed.
How did he do that? How did he know? It was like he somehow knew she was a heartbeat away from putting her walls up and walking away from him? Instead, he gave her the one thing she needed right then. Space.
And oh, how devious he was, because instead of trying to push thoughts of him away along with the way he made her feel despite never having touched her, he was now the only thing she could think about.
Even as she went back to the guests, making a final round in case she missed anyone who wanted to speak with her, she was even more conscious of his presence. But instead of just her eyes being drawn to him, her entire body was. What kind of magic did he wield to get under her skin this way?
No such thing as magic, Hope, she reminded herself.
Not for the first time, she physically shook her head trying to focus on the conversation at hand. She was speaking with the museum curator, giving her final goodbye having come full circle.
She glanced around, suddenly bereft.
She didn't see him anywhere.
Feeling disappointed though it didn't really matter since nothing could come of the strange pull she felt toward him, she excused herself to the restroom to freshen up before taking her leave.
She stared in the mirror, repeating silently to herself that she only needed to keep her composure a little while longer. Just long enough to pick up her vehicle from valet and go home, where she could cry herself to sleep as she wrestled with the most difficult decision of her life.
At least she had tall, dark, and devilishly handsome to help her get through most of the evening.
It was a pity he couldn't help with the rest of the night too.
Dabbing at the corner of her eye, she took a deep fortifying breath.
Only a little longer, Hope.
The valet line was relatively short, but the pouring rain that greeted her as she approached the entrance made her sigh.
The weather was a perfect metaphor for her mood.
As she made her way beneath the valet canopy, she found her eyes drawn across to the taxi line.
While taxis were considered archaic to some, they were still very much an easy mode of transportation in the city especially when one didn't wish to wait for their ride. Also, the weather being what it was, she imagined traffic would make getting through for the pickup even longer. Why wait for that when taxis were right there, waiting?
Unsure why her attention was drawn there, she glanced away, but then looked back when she saw a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye.
Him.
And, as happened often that night, no sooner had her eyes found him than he felt the weight of her stare and met her gaze too.
Feeling a surge of elation, she reacted without thinking and motioned for him to join her.
He smirked then looked around to plot his walk from one line to the other with minimal soaking.
"Miss?" the attendant asked.
She handed off her ticket with a few bills and pointed.
"Retrieve him first, please," she said, knowing the extra padded tip would get her what she wanted.
Nodding, the valet immediately crossed over with umbrella in place, returning with a very dry amused man.
"I could've walked back and taken the path here," he laughed.
"But then, you might've missed the pickup," she said.
"I was a bit disappointed I didn't get to say goodbye," he said.
"You disappeared," she pointed out.
"Only for a minute," he said.
She nodded and then, "A taxi?" she asked.
"The plan was to walk back," he shrugged. "Traffic was already bad on my way in. Hence, my tardiness. Plans change." He indicated the rain.
"Walk? Where to?"
"I'm staying at The Jefferson," he said, naming one of the more impressive hotels in the area.
The next car pulled up and a familiar valet stepped out, walking around to her.
"This is us," she said, nodding.
"Us?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said, with a grin. "Coming?"
She didn't give him time to reply, just followed the valet as he used the umbrella to protect her from the elements. She climbed into the driver's side and smirked to herself as she buckled her seatbelt when the passenger door opened and he joined her.
"So, where are we going?" he asked.
"With this traffic?" she said, pulling into it. "I believe you said The Jefferson?"
"Right," he nodded, relaxing back into his seat. "Thanks for the ride then."
"What, did you come to town just for the grand unveiling?" she asked.
"I'm being courted," he said.
"By whom?"
"New job offer," he explained. "The gala was a coincidence."
He looked at her, "A very good one."
She quirked her lips as she was unable to fight back a smile.
"Have they won your affection then?" she asked.
"I'm beginning to think the answer may have already presented itself," he said.
"How very vague of you," she laughed when he neither confirmed nor denied her question.
"Well, you haven't seen the fancy digs they have me held up in," he quipped. "Really turning on the charm there."
She forced her mouth shut before she asked, Do you want me to?
She enjoyed talking to him, but she couldn't flirt like that with him. She couldn't practically invite herself into his hotel room. That wasn't what this was about. This was her grasping on to whatever hold he had on her that kept the demons quiet a bit longer.
This was her toeing the strange extraordinary connection that made her feel completely at ease around him.
But this was only temporary.
She would drop him off, and that would be the end of it all.
Her brief reprieve would be over.
And she would still be as unhappy as she was before she met him and no closer to the family she always wanted.
The car inched forward then stopped again. They had barely moved a block. An accident must be blocking the way.
She leaned against her window, feeling overwhelmed suddenly. She shouldn't have let the thoughts in
"Doing okay over there?" he asked, noting her silence. "Traffic is a bit much."
She shook her head and sat up straight again.
"I'm good," she cleared her throat. "So, you've yet to tell me your thoughts on the new Mikaelson portraits."
"Oh, you mean you haven't heard enough about how the darker one must've been the evil one who hurt him and the lighter one was the one who made it all better?" he said sarcastically.
"Not very imaginative, were they?" she said, laughing at his tone.
"They don't have that appreciation for fine detail in the colors that I mentioned earlier," he said. "At least not the ones I spoke with. None of them saw what the portraits truly represented."
"And what did you see?" she asked. "What do you think they represent?"
She turned the wheel to move into the next lane, deciding to try a different route since this one seemed at a complete standstill.
"Hope."
"Yes?" she said, glancing at him when he said her name.
"Hope," he repeated. "That's what they represent. Hope. And the past and future too."
"That's what you saw?" she asked softly.
"Yeah, the darkness of the first portrait, the, uh, what was the name?" he asked.
"Andrea," she replied, giving the name of the portrait which also happened to be her mother's name.
"Right," he nodded. "Andrea wasn't evil. She was depicted as beautiful and strong. He clearly loved her. The darkness surrounding her wasn't anything bad. It was indicating that she was his past. And, what no one seemed to notice, the darkness faded around the edges into something bright. They may have just perceived it as a border, but that's where the hope came in. It told me Andrea meant a great deal to him, and that she gave him hope."
She stared at him in utter fascination.
She wasn't sure any member of her family had ever made that connection before. She knew she hadn't. But then she spent her life around her father's work, sometimes taking the meaning for granted even though she appreciated the beauty of it. These two portraits were kept together in one of her father's rooms so when the family decided to put them on display for the world they knew they had to remain together.
"As for the other," he continued, looking to her for the name again.
"Caroline," she said.
"He saw her as his future," he explained. "She was depicted as beautiful and strong as well, and she was surrounded by the light. Not to say, as others would think, that no darkness could enter there. It wasn't about anything bad. He was excited for his future. He was hopeful. These felt more personal than anything else we've previously seen in my opinion. Others showed his deep emotions and struggles within himself, but these two women represented the best part of himself. And his hope."
He didn't know how right he was, she thought as she fought back strong emotions.
Her father had fallen in love with Caroline, and she with him. He planned to propose. Hope knew because he asked her first. Hope was fifteen at the time, but he still wanted to make sure she would be okay with his choice. Growing up with her parents never actually together, she didn't hesitate to say yes. She had never seen her father as happy as he was with Caroline. His death, right when he was on the verge of taking that big step, was an even bigger blow.
"That's…" she swallowed thickly past the sudden lump in her throat, searching for words. How exactly did she express how profoundly his words touched her?
"No matter what happened in the past, treasure it because you learned from it, and have hope that the future can be better than you ever dreamed," he summarized.
"How do you let go of the past though?" she asked, thinking of her marital issues. "How can anyone be so sure that the future will be any better? That your greatest dreams are even possible?"
"I guess you never really know what is right for you until you've done the things that aren't right," he said. "Just don't forget your dream along the way. That belongs to you. No one can take that from you. And only you can make it happen."
How did he know the exact right thing to say?
"So, think I'm on to something with my interpretation?" he asked, grinning ruefully.
"Definitely," she said. "In fact, I think I'm stealing your answer if anyone asks."
"Works for me," he said. "By the way, ever come up with an answer to my question?"
"Which one?" she asked, pressing the break pedal to the floor once more. They had traveled forward a few more blocks once she took a different route, but she hit more traffic. It appeared they wouldn't be moving for the moment.
"If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?" he asked.
She laughed, glancing at him.
"I might need more time. What about you? Where would you want to be?"
"I'd want to be right here," he said, staring with soft intensity into her eyes, "Right in this moment with you."
She couldn't resist what was happening anymore, not when everything felt so right. Keeping her foot firmly in place, she found herself leaning toward him across the console as he leaned toward her.
"Think I'll steal that answer too," she murmured before her lips met his.
Electricity sparked instantly. The connection she felt all night given new life as they touched for the first time since she fell into his arms.
Heat flooded her instantly. She tried to reach for him unsuccessfully as her seatbelt held her back. Hearing a telltale click before his hands were suddenly cupping her face as his mouth plundered hers, she knew he was one step ahead of her in undoing his own restraint.
Beep!
She jumped back at the sound of a horn blaring behind her. His hands dropped but he stayed right where he was, his heated gaze telling her without words how much he enjoyed the kiss and wanted more.
Flushing, she looked forward and released the brake to inch forward the few feet that separated them from the car in front of them. Stopping a bit harder than she intended, she immediately threw the car into park, released her seatbelt, and kissed him again.
Unencumbered this time, she reached across and grasped his shoulder, smoothing her hand around to his back.
In his enthusiasm, he reached for her too but practically dragged her across the console.
One more tug and she would be in his lap.
She forgot why that would be a bad thing until another loud blare sounded behind them.
Beep! Beep! Beeeeeeep!
She looked ahead and saw that traffic had actually started really moving.
Scrambling back to her seat, she stuck the car into drive and moved forward as she struggled with her seatbelt. Her actions were awkward and haphazard and he took pity on her.
"I'll take care of that," he smirked, grasping the seatbelt from her hand, yanking and pulling it down to fasten it.
"Thanks," she said, cursing herself for sounding so breathless.
He nodded as he refastened his own seatbelt.
"Well, that cleared up," he said, referring to the traffic. "We're almost there."
"Uh huh," she said, still in a bit of shock.
Every nerve ending in her body was screaming at her not to let him get away. Her body was begging her to take whatever he offered, especially after a kiss like that.
"You know the hotel has valet," he mentioned. "If you want to stay."
And there it was.
An invitation.
"You never really know what is right for you until you've done the things that aren't right."
He told her that, not fifteen minutes ago.
Somewhere inside she knew morally it wasn't right, but it didn't take much to silence that tiny voice. Not when she was tired of being unhappy and denying herself of the things she wanted most.
And maybe… maybe accepting his invitation would be the right thing for her.
With a small nod she wasn't sure he saw, she followed the path to the front of the hotel, pulling to the valet station.
He had her answer.
Despite his confidence, and use of the full wattage of his charm, Ryan knew there was a brief moment when she was uncertain—when she could have gone either way—stay with him or drop him off and go home.
When she chose to stay, the uncertainty vanished completely.
Grasping his hand, her clutch in her other, she walked briskly beside him.
His excitement growing as he felt hers too, he tried to tap it down at least until they made it to his room.
He made it. Barely.
The second the door opened, they were falling into each other's arms.
Meeting her, he understood for the first time what people meant when they said they met someone who could change their whole life in an instant. He knew next to nothing about her and he didn't care. Her eyes following him all night told him she was interested, but he never thought they would be in his room doing what they were doing.
He never planned it. He only hoped to get her number and procure a date. When he stepped out of the washroom at the gala and returned to find her gone, his heart sank in his chest thinking he missed his chance for good. He was left wondering why he hadn't tried harder, sooner.
It actually hurt thinking he lost out on his opportunity with her.
But fate stepped in and here she was, with him and he never felt more certain of anything or anyone in his life.
Hope tossed her clutch in the general direction of a table as she kissed him. Now that she gave herself permission to stay, she wanted to dive in before she changed her mind. Her mouth met his over and over again even as she grabbed his arms and tugged him along with her closer to the bed.
He came willingly, bending to meet her mouth as his hands found her back. One hand slid down the smooth fabric. It found her ass and gripped her, clutching her to him.
"The dress," she gasped. "Take off the dress!"
He kissed her one last time before grasping her hips and turning her around in front of him. The back of her dress was buttoned at the top behind her neck to keep the halter in place. The rest of her back was only covered from the middle on down. A zipper was nestled there that trailed on down past her hips.
Starting with the buttons, his lips ghosted over her shoulder as his fingers worked. She tilted her head to the other side, giving his mouth plenty of room. The neck piece came undone and he glided his mouth across her soft skin, up the side of her neck as his fingers slid to the zipper part.
He tugged the zipper down, sliding it past the scrap of black lace that was the top of her thong. He let go and the dress fell down on its own accord to pool at her feet leaving her in more black: strapless bra, thong, thigh high stockings, and those high heels of hers.
"Have I mentioned black is my favorite color?" he murmured into her ear.
She backed up into him and deliberately moved her backside against the hard ridge of his body. Grinding against her, he pushed her hair to the other side, determined to give the same attention to that side of her neck. Mouthing at the skin, he slid his arms around her waist and moved one hand down from her navel, past the thin barrier at the juncture of her thighs so his fingers could reach and probe her depths.
Gasping at the pleasure, she grew soaking wet. Never had she been turned on this much, this quickly. She tossed her head back, enjoying his nipping and biting at her neck, as she ground against him. She could feel his excitement nudging her, and she was flooded with desire for this man. She wanted him and she wasn't sure how much longer she could wait.
She slid her hands to her hips and pushed the scrap of black lace concealing her womanhood down. He released her long enough to let it drop, the cloth joining her dress on the floor.
He made a sound of encouragement and she was a heartbeat away from demanding he take her now.
She tried to hold off just a little longer by taking his hands in hers and guiding them up to her chest. His hands gripped her over the lacy covering, caressing and massaging both breasts while he continued rubbing his cock against her.
The feel of his clothing against her bare behind reminded her that he was still way too dressed. She would take care of that momentarily.
First, she wanted to lean against him and enjoy everything he was doing. She tilted her head to the side again when she felt him nuzzling into her neck. She moaned in protest as he removed one hand—the one he used to pleasure her clit— then he made sure she was watching as he brought his fingers to his lips like a promise of what was to come. Seeing him taste her on his fingertips, she felt like she was going to explode!
She turned around in his arms and smoothed her hands up his chest, pushing at his suit jacket. He got the hint and took over, shrugging out of it. Her hands found his belt and she made quick work of undoing it.
He tossed the jacket aside and kissed her, their mouths drinking in each other hungrily. He reached around to undo the clasp on her bra at the same time that she undid his zipper and slid her hand into his pants, forgoing his boxer-briefs too.
He felt so warm and so smooth, like velvet. He was already big and he wasn't even at full mast yet. She needed to have him. Oh, God, she needed him now.
He pressed himself against her hand even as he pulled off her bra completely, groaning at the feel of her fingers wrapped around him and his first look of her bare breasts. He couldn't wait to taste them, and he intended to do just that but she had other plans.
She released him reluctantly, pulling her hand back to push at his pants as she backed towards the bed.
"Now," she gasped, "I need you now."
He took over, kicking his shoes off and shucking off his pants and underwear, relieved to be free from his confines.
She laid back on the bed, waiting for him, her eyes burning with need. Her thigh highs and heels were still in place and he smirked at them as he approached.
"Problem?" she asked.
"I could take care of those for you," he said, leaning over her to put his hands at the top of the stockings.
"Later," she said, grabbing his hands and pulling him toward her, her legs spread. "Take me now."
He hesitated, distracted by the breasts he desperately wanted to sample instead of doing what she said.
"Later," she said again but with a coy look. "I promise. But I need it now. I need you now!"
So he gave her what she wanted.
Feeling him press inside her, the anticipation had been so worth it. She cried out as he filled her, bottoming out so much deeper than she ever had before.
He began to move, and she moved with him, gripping his hips to encourage him to move faster. He got the message and she cried out again.
"Yes!"
"You like that?"
"Yes!"
"How about this?" he said as he increased his movements and slammed into her harder.
"Yes! Yes! Exactly like that!" she gripped his shoulders and swung her legs up around his waist, her heels still very much in place.
Every thrust from him made her bounce, the constant rocking motion of their bodies felt so raw but so good. Sex had never felt this all-consuming for her before. She didn't want the feeling to ever end. She was already looking forward to the next time.
If she thought his never ending constant ramming into her felt good, it was nothing compared to her desire finding it's peak as all the heat engulfing her accumulated into one mind blowing explosion that had her screaming out her pleasure and gripping her legs around him even tighter.
He wasn't done yet, she could still feel him hard and pulsating and moving inside of her. She clenched around him and rode out his orgasm with him, watching his face when he came, actually feeling when he spilled himself inside of her.
His hips still moved as he finished, circling against her, until he grew still. All tension left his body as he relaxed on top of her, drained.
"Wow," he murmured.
"Yeah, wow," she returned, her chest rising and falling with each breath as her breathing slowly returned to normal.
He kissed her neck lazily but paused suddenly.
"I didn't use anything."
It took her a minute because it had been a long time since any of that mattered. Then…
"I'm safe… I'm okay," she said. And she was safe…from everything except one. It was too late for that now though. If that happened, there was nothing on earth that would make her undo it. Also, she read enough to know that the first time was the one that mattered the most, no matter how many times they had sex that night. So why change anything now?
Honestly, the thought of him being the one to give her a child didn't bother her at all.
"Me too," he said then resumed his soft kisses, making his way back to her mouth.
She kissed him and slid her legs up and down his sides.
He grasped at one of her thighs, smoothing his hand over the stocking.
"Are the heels still on?"
"Jimmy Choos did not budge," she confirmed, amused.
"Gonna have to try harder at rocking your socks off then," he murmured.
"I don't know," she teased, raising a leg in the air and tilting her head back to admire the shoe. "Jimmy is always the perfect fit. Don't think he's going anywhere."
She dropped her leg onto the bedspread and moved her hands over his still-clothed shoulders. She shifted and he slid off, settling onto his side next to her. She ran her fingers up and down his chest.
"Something else that's still on…"
"You didn't really give me a chance to take it off," he said, his eyes crinkling with his slow sexy smile.
"Let me remedy that," she said, unbuttoning his dress shirt, taking the time to kiss his chest every time more skin was bared to her.
She was already feeling hot again. What was it about being this close to him, touching him, that turned her on so much?
"I want you again already," she admitted in between kisses.
"Need a little more time," he gasped out as she mouthed at his nipple. "But that'll definitely help things along."
She bit him gently, then soothed the ache with her tongue.
"Wasn't I supposed to do that later?" he asked. He wanted to pleasure every part of her, but he was hard-pressed to get her to stop pleasuring him.
"Me first," she murmured, continuing to undo the rest of his buttons.
She slid her hands under the edges of his shirt and pushed it out of her way. He shifted to help her move it over his shoulder, then lay so she could push it off his other shoulder. He stayed on his back, giving her full access. Her mouth found the other side of his chest, the side she previously neglected, and she gave all of her attention there.
He trailed his fingers through her hair, admiring. He didn't think he had ever seen anything as beautiful as her.
She kept her mouth in place but had to touch his chest again. Smoothing her hand across his flesh, she decided she wanted to feel all of him again.
She trailed her hand down, feeling his stomach contract when he sucked in a breath right before she took him in hand.
He was already hardening again, and she explored his length with her fingertips, searching for a grip. She was pleased when she felt him jerk against her, responding to the stimulation.
Releasing him, she slid her fingers further south, tracing across and around his delicate sacks before seeking out and finding his taint. She stroked until he gripped her shoulders and pulled her up so her face was level with his.
Then he tenderly stroked the side of her face.
"So beautiful," he murmured before his lips captured hers again.
She melted against him as their mouths joined and her hunger spiked even further. She needed more, so much more, and her kisses and restless movement must have gotten that message across because he ran his hand down her back and grabbed at her ass.
His fingers dug into her with a slight pain that she wanted more of. She moaned her pleasure into his mouth.
That was all the encouragement he needed as they got lost in each other, kissing and caressing and groping. She lost track of time but nothing mattered except for him. He set her body on fire, never more so than when his fingers found her clit and he teased and taunted her during their heavy petting.
Finally, he rolled her onto her back again.
The second he settled between her thighs, his hard cock nudging her, she eagerly spread her legs further. He made her wait until she looked at him before he entered. His eyes bore into hers with a different level of intimacy than she expected from someone she just met. She felt like he was pouring his heart and soul into her as he slid home.
It momentarily paralyzed her.
How could he look at her that way?
But then he started to move, his eyes still staring deeply into hers, and all she could do was feel. The intensity of his gaze was making her so wet.
His body slid against hers, his flesh striking her in the most intimate of places. The act they were performing was as old as time itself, but the way he was deliberately moving, it felt brand new to her. They fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces making the other complete.
It terrified her and ignited her passion all at once.
He continued to move with strong, sure strokes.
She was so far gone it didn't take her long to be satisfied. She flexed her pelvis to meet his again and again until she dropped over the delicious edge of desire into oblivion.
She flung her head back against the pillow but never lost sight of his eyes as she cried out her orgasm. Her hips shook as she rode it out, her inner walls flexing around him hoping to draw out the pleasure as long as possible.
It was only after she returned to her senses she realized he was still rock hard inside of her, though he was moving in a slow gentle motion to keep things going while he waited.
He saw the look on her face and the way she glanced between their bodies to see where they were still fully connected.
"Held off this time," he smirked even as a tiny bead of sweat formed on his brow. "In case you wanted more right after again."
With renewed stamina, she toed at one foot and then the other—still wrapped around him—to loosen her heels. She kicked them off haphazardly, not caring where they flew.
Hearing a loud bang, he smirked, "Leaving a heel sized dent in the wall?"
She could care less. She wanted him, she wanted all of him, and she needed to feel his release inside of her again.
She pushed him onto his back and rose above him. She straddled his hips and lowered herself onto the hard steel he was sporting.
Gripping the head board over his head with both hands, she smirked down at him.
"Let's see you hold off on this."
Then she rode him like her life depended on it. She used her grip on the headboard to help pump her hips in a fierce pattern she couldn't achieve on her own.
She took delight in the sounds he was making. She was loud all night, but this was the first time he was moaning out his pleasure so wantonly. The best part was, she was pretty sure he didn't even know he was doing it.
Her actions shocked him at first. He was incapable of doing anything but feel the intense pleasure rocking through him. Eventually he remembered he had hands, and he wasted no time in using them.
In what she was starting to think of as his signature move, he reached around and grabbed her ass again. Not to stop her, but to move with her, encouraging her movements.
When she didn't make any sound besides her rough panting, he smacked her ass.
The unexpected crack didn't hurt her; it felt so good in the best way.
It did have the desired effect he wanted because she cried out.
"Yes! Yes! More!"
His control was getting shot to hell as she continued to ride him, her breasts moving along with her, and he lost track of the number of times his hand came in contact with her behind. The desire forming in his loins was too great. He couldn't hold back anymore—he wasn't sure he even wanted to—he was going to come.
No sooner had he thought it, than she sped up her hips, her rhythm going out of whack as she sought out her explosive release.
"Right there, right there!" she chanted and moaned as she gripped the headboard even harder.
He grabbed her hips and slammed her down on him as he lost control and shot his release into her.
She screamed her own completion at the same time, shattering
She sat astride him until all tension left her body and she slumped forward, too worn out to do anything more than that.
He didn't have much strength left either, but he still wrapped his arms around her tenderly.
There was a definite change in the energy surrounding them, at least that's what she felt coming from him. Their coupling was more passionate and uninhibited than she was used to, prompting her to become more aggressive and demand her pleasure the way she wanted it.
Through it all, even as he gave her everything she wanted, his regard for her shone. When they started their second round, she felt they had slipped from just having sex to him wanting to make love to her—that he was making love to her.
That both excited and worried her.
She was very much in the moment now. What came next had no place here. She wasn't thinking that far ahead.
But his arms around her, snuggling her close as she nestled her face into his neck, felt amazing, felt right.
Ryan had never felt more at peace.
He barely knew her, but he was pretty sure she was the one.
The one he had been waiting for all his life.
And, no. It wasn't because the sex was mind blowing—though that didn't hurt.
From the moment she landed in his arms, he felt like he did know her. Like his heart and soul recognized her. Every encounter after that, and every time their eyes met across the room, only served to reinforce that recognition. That even across a crowded room he knew what she was thinking spoke volumes to him.
They teased and sassed each other, talking like they had known one another all their lives.
He knew she must be feeling something similar. There was no way all of this was one-sided, not when she was right there with him. She felt it too. She had to.
Did he want to know everything about her? Absolutely.
But they had time. So much time to learn it all.
For now, he was content in holding her.
At least until sensation returned to his basic motor functions.
He stroked her back slowly. He couldn't get enough of touching her, not even when he could barely move.
She looked up at him with a soft vulnerable expression, one that belied the roughness of moments past.
What followed was the softest moment of the night, where they stared into each other's eyes and traced each other's faces, as if they were memorizing every inch, every curve, every freckle.
The longer Hope stayed in that moment with him, the more she felt unsettled. She knew where it was coming from, but she didn't want to think about it. She just wanted to enjoy the here and now.
But a quick break was in order so she could regroup and hopefully distract him from looking at her like she was his dream come true.
"Be right back," she murmured, kissing his lips softly, and then stretching slowly as she moved off the bed.
"Don't take off the stockings," he said, attempting to sit up and reach for her, but he was still too worn out so he collapsed back with a grunt and a grin. "You promised I could."
"I wouldn't dream of it," she said with a teasing wink, then walked around the bed toward the bathroom wearing only her thigh-highs.
She couldn't resist looking back over her shoulder before she went into the other room. Sure enough, his eyes were glued to her rear end.
"Something tells me you have a thing for my ass," she said.
"Given your kink for wearing heels during sex, my admiration of your ass seems relatively tame," he smirked, raising his eyes to meet hers.
She snickered. She had never done that before. She was just too impatient to take them off. Once they started, she forgot they were still on.
Deciding she still needed that break, she carried on to the bathroom and closed the door without another word.
Resting her back against the door, she sighed and shook her head, a smile dancing on her lips.
Tonight had definitely taken a turn she never would have anticipated.
She liked this guy.
She really really liked him.
She felt comfortable and safe with him. She even felt loved which was kind of ridiculous given they had just met.
Sleeping with a stranger was not something she ever intended to do, especially when she was still married. But she had made a decision earlier that night. She wasn't happy, and she didn't feel loved. She took off her ring because she felt that her marriage was on its last legs and about to plummet into nothingness.
She didn't want to think about the future but… if she did. She knew she wouldn't mind spending more time with the man in the other room.
She loved Landon… but if he didn't want her anymore, at least someone else did.
Someone else who knew how to do things to her body that left her craving more even after hours of sex.
Desperately needing to freshen up, she did so—being careful of the stockings.
She smirked to herself as she looked in the mirror. She looked thoroughly sexed up, and the thigh-highs made her appear sultrier than she ever had her whole life. At some point her hair had been released from its loose chignon, the soft waves tumbled down her back and framed her face.
Looking sexy made her feel sexier, made her want to see that look on his face again as his eyes swept over her body making her feel more beautiful than she ever thought possible.
Eagerly turning to open the door, she was taken by surprised to find him waiting on the other side.
Before she could say anything, he swept into the room, hands at her hips as he lifted her into his arms.
She squealed and wrapped her legs around his bare hips.
"What are you doing!?" she laughed, grasping at his shoulders.
He spun them around and walked with her to the counter, sliding her onto the cool marble next to the sink.
Gliding his hands down her hips and upper thighs, he teased the material at the top of her stockings.
"Couldn't wait to do this anymore," he murmured, his fingers dancing a tantalizing pattern as his mouth found hers.
She moaned into his mouth enthusiastically, feeling her inner heat turn up a few dozen notches despite the coolness of the counter beneath her naked bottom.
He teased her even more by trailing his fingers up her inner thighs, drifting closer to the part of her that was burning for him, before sliding his fingers back to the stockings.
Finally he stopped and backed up only enough to take one of her thighs in his hands.
She breathed in anticipation as he stroked over the fabric, then slowly began removing it by pushing it down, pausing intermittently to lean down and kiss her thigh.
By the time he finished removing one, she was ready to tear the other one off. She couldn't take much more of his teasing.
Pulling her bare leg up, she reached out and tugged him close to her again. She was aching for him.
"Stop playing," she said, shifting her hips forward to push up against him, whimpering when he brushed against her.
"You promised," he reminded her, pressing more firmly against her despite his words.
"Just take it off," she insisted.
"I'm getting there," he murmured.
"Not fast enough," she said, trying to tug him even closer.
"I like taking my time," he said as his eyes drifted down before he leaned in to capture one of her nipples in his mouth.
Gasping, she leaned against the mirror, arching her back to give him all the access he needed. She ran her fingers through his hair, holding him in place as he pleasured her.
Hips writhing more and more frantically against him, she found herself wrapping her legs—one stocking covered and one bare—around his waist and doing her best to shift forward.
His only response was to switch breasts, causing her to cry out when his teeth scraped gently against the hardened bud.
When she was positive she couldn't take anymore, she reached between them and grasped at his cock, determined to help him slide home inside of her.
But he had other plans.
Straightening, he stepped back.
She cursed when she lost her grip and her legs slipped slightly.
"Not yet," he smirked, knowing his teasing was getting to her.
He did finally take the time to remove the last bit of stocking though, and he did it quicker than he intended.
Not that she cared, to her it all was too slow, especially when he wasn't giving her what she wanted most of all.
But then he walked back between her legs, slid his hands around her hips again, and lifted her against him once more. He carried her to the shower stall and held her against the wall next to it so he could reach in to turn it on and test the temperature.
Distracted by the curve of his strong neck, she leaned into him and bit down gently.
He groaned and tried to focus on the task at hand even as her mouth closed down on his skin to lick and suck.
Reaching in for one last test, deciding it was hot enough, he pulled her to him and stepped into the stall, carrying her still.
"Hmm," she murmured against his skin, feeling the hot water sliding down her back. "Feeling dirty?"
"Feeling something alright," he said as his mouth found her ear. His tongue slid down the outer edge.
"I can't wait to taste you," he murmured loud enough for her to hear over the running water.
Smirking to herself, she finally understood his want for a shower—not that she hadn't already taken care of that for him when she was freshening up.
She had not forgotten his unspoken promise when he tasted her on his fingertips earlier, and it appeared she was looking forward to it as much as he was.
"Same," she smirked at him, grasping hold of his shoulders as she let her legs fall, her hands sliding down his arms at the same time.
Ryan eyed her, wondering what she would do next. He loved that she was unpredictable and demanding, but she also took turns taking the lead. She let him know exactly what she wanted, and he was thoroughly enjoying giving it to her—or teasing her with it until she was on the verge of bursting in flames. Thank goodness she wanted him too much to turn the tables on him. He wasn't sure how much teasing he could take.
Then she slid down to her knees in front of him and he had his answer—he couldn't take any teasing, but there was no way he would tell her to stop.
She took his hardness in her hands and slid him into her mouth, sucking down from the tip a little at a time, not bothered at all by the spray of water pouring down on them both.
He reached out to brace himself against the tile wall, trying to catch his breath as her mouth and hands moved over him, increasing the rhythm and pulling him deeper into the hot wet cavern of her mouth.
No matter how much he wanted to run his fingers through her hair in encouragement, he resisted taking hold of her head. There was no way he would be able to control himself. Already he was having a hard time keeping still. All he wanted to do was thrust forward, but he didn't want to choke her.
Instead, he held off as long as he could, fisting his hands against the wall, until he finally reached down and took her by the shoulders. He practically yanked her to her feet, then lifted her up, stepped between her thighs, and pressed her against the wall again. He barely gave her time to catch up before he gave in to the urge to thrust forward uncontrollably, slamming inside of her with all the pent up force he had been holding back.
Hope was in heaven as he gave her exactly what she wanted since he sat her on the bathroom counter. She screamed out her pleasure into his ear, wrapped her legs around him, and tried her best to grab his ass—not that he needed any more momentum. He was wild and determined, and she couldn't do much of anything but open herself completely to him as he slammed her against the wall with his hips over and over again.
Ryan didn't think he had ever been so insatiable or so out of control, and he loved every single minute of it. Of her. She was perfect. And he had lost himself completely to her, especially in this moment as he came with a shout, burying his face into her neck and melting against her.
Feeling limp and breathless from her own orgasm, Hope relaxed against him and waited patiently for him to return to his senses. Fortunately, he did before the water turned cold.
After that, she needed to 'freshen up' again, and she did so while he 'helped' by running the soap over and around her breasts. She returned the favor when she was done by washing his chest. She slipped behind him to wash and caress his back but couldn't resist smacking his butt with a grin—a little payback was in order.
He laughed and turned to kiss her.
"Ah ah," she said, holding her hand up and stepping back. "We'll never finish if you start again."
"Just a kiss," he murmured, leaning down and kissing her softly.
After that, they made quick work of finishing showering and drying off.
She towel dried her hair as she followed behind him back into the main room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she watched him retrieve two waters from the mini fridge and admired his body as he settled onto the bed next to her, stretched out and propped up by the pillows.
"Were you checking out my ass this time?" he asked.
"Maybe," she teased, tossing the towel back in the vicinity of the bathroom then scooting over to rest against him.
She took the bottle he offered her and took a few sips, then settled with her back against his chest, loving the way he wrapped one arm around her to pull her close.
"What are you thinking?" he asked softly
"That this has been the greatest night," she murmured.
"Sounds like a challenge to make tomorrow better," he murmured back
She didn't reply to that. She couldn't reply to that. She didn't know how.
"What are you thinking?" she asked instead.
"I think I'm going to take the job," he said, knowing she probably wasn't expecting him to be thinking about that. But all he could think was, there was no way he was staying with his current job when she was in Richmond. He liked the other company too, so it was a win-win either way. But she had tipped the scales for him.
"What is the job?" she asked, tilting her head back and handing him her bottle. "What do you do?"
"Attorney," he said, passing the bottle off to the end table next to his. "Corporate law. There's this company that's kind of a big deal and, well…" he shrugged.
"Aren't you kind of young for a company to be chasing you?" she asked. Especially in law? She knew a few things, and it took years to be that sought after in his chosen field.
"I'm really good at what I do," he said confidently because it was true. With no family after his mother passed, he didn't have anything else in his life but school and then work. And he worked his ass off to be the best.
"True. I mean, that's not the only thing you're really good at," she flirted, turning in his arms so her side was pressed against him instead of her back.
He smirked at her and smoothed her wild, drying hair back from her face.
"What about you?" he asked. "What are you really good at…besides the obvious?" he ended with a teasing wiggle to his eyebrows.
She thought fast. She couldn't really say 'house wife'. She was more than that though.
"Trust fund brat," she told part of the truth.
"Ah," he said, nodding.
"Serve on a lot of committees. Stuff like that," she shrugged. "Just some causes that mean a lot to me."
"You mean, like fundraisers for the local museum?" he asked.
"No," she laughed slightly. "That was more for…pleasure, I guess you could say?" She was there in an official capacity for her father's estate, but she did enjoy looking at all the portraits too. "Art is a bit of a passion of mine."
"You paint?" he asked.
"Sometimes...it's just a hobby really," she explained. "It's not, like, I dream of being some famous artist."
"But you do have dreams," he said. "You mentioned something in the car earlier...?"
"Oh. Right," she said softly.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he said, noting the stiffening in her movements.
"Just, you know, the usual," she tried to respond as flippantly as possible, her mind racing. "Travel the world, change the world, make it a better place..."
"So, world peace," he said, amused.
"Don't laugh," she poked him.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, failing to keep a straight face.
"What about you?" she rebuffed. "What do you dream of?"
"You're asking a lawyer that?" Ryan asked, as if the answer should be obvious.
"An attorney," she corrected pointedly.
"Right," he shrugged, sighing. "I'm already good at what I do. I guess the dream would be continuing to be successful."
"You only dream about your job?" she asked, surprised.
"I can't dream about that?" he said.
"I just thought someone with an appreciation for art and creativity and expression wouldn't be so… career-oriented," she said.
"So, something more personal is what you want," he said.
"Maybe," she said demurely. "If you want to share..."
He took a deep breath and leaned back.
"I guess… the dream would be to find someone to share the rest of my life with... to not be alone."
He felt a little uncomfortable sharing that. He knew it was kind of typical—who wanted to be alone, right?—but he hadn't shared that truth about himself with anyone before. On the outside he never let on that being alone bothered him. He had friends and occasional lovers, but no one he was ever very close to. And, worst of all, he had no family.
"That's a nice dream," she said softly, resting her hand on his chest.
Grinning to shake off the vulnerable moment, he attempted to bring levity back into the mix.
"Traveling the world is probably a better one though," he laughed.
"You said it, I didn't," she teased.
With his arm around her, he decided to gently stroke his hand down to the nape of her back, hovering above the curve of her firm derrière.
"You and my ass," she shook her head in amusement
"It's a nice ass, by the way," he smirked before smacking her again.
"You are so asking for it," she threatened.
"I'm not asking," he said, gripping her firmly.
"So you're just going to take?" she asked, tracing her fingers around his nipple.
He smirked before grabbing her hips to flip her onto her back, startling her.
Hovering above her, he caught her eyes before he started shimming down her body.
"Actually," he murmured, pausing to kiss her stomach. "I'm going to give."
She breathed out a shaky breath when he moved further down and kissed her navel.
"And I'm going to keep on giving…and then maybe I'll take you again…"
She was practically trembling in anticipation by the time he spread her legs further apart.
Then he lowered his mouth and she lost herself to the pleasure again.
She hadn't known how right she was when she told him he was really good at other things. His lips, his tongue, his fingers—he used each of them expertly, exploring every inch of her over and over again, bringing her to the brink of pleasure repeatedly. She didn't even know she had it in her to orgasm so many times in one night
It wasn't until she blacked out for a few minutes from exhaustion after another mind blowing orgasm that she woke up to find him next to her, his arms pulling her tightly into his embrace.
"Is this the part where you take?" she whispered.
"I don't think you're up for it," he whispered back with a soft smile.
"But you are?" she said.
"It doesn't matter," he said, pulling her closer. "Sleep."
"We can again, if you want to," she tried to insist.
"Later," he murmured, yawning slightly. "Sleep first." His eyes closed.
If he hadn't yawned, she would've insisted on him taking her again, but he was tired. In fact, she was pretty tired too. She wasn't sure what time it was, but she was pretty sure sunrise would be in an hour or so.
So 'later,' as he said. Later would mean more than one night. Later would mean some kind of future… Later would mean so many things.
Later would also mean…maybe making her real dream come true.
"Hey…" she whispered.
"Hmm?" he said, his eyes barely opening.
"Your dream?"
"Mmm hmm?" he mumbled.
"What about a family? Kids?" she asked.
"Hmm?"
"Is that part of the dream?"
He adjusted his arms around her and rested his head against hers.
"No," he mumbled simply.
Her face fell, but he didn't notice. He mustered the energy to kiss her forehead then fell asleep.
She laid still, suddenly more awake than she should be.
The minutes ticked by as she listened to his even breathing grow deeper, as she struggled with her thoughts.
What had she done?
She actually thought maybe everything would be okay. She actually entertained the idea of being with him after the impending doom that was her marriage. But he wasn't the answer to all her problems. In fact, he was worse than Landon because he didn't even want kids.
Admitting the truth after spending the night forgetting her reality, she realized she had indulged the fantasy because she wasn't happy. She gave into something she thought would make her happy. And he did make her happy. Every inch of her body was buzzing with how happy he made her.
But it didn't change the fact that she was married. She may have decided at the start of the evening that she and Landon needed to talk, and that conversation would more than likely end with her deciding it was time to end things. But just because she decided didn't automatically make it so.
No matter how she tried to explain it or excuse it, she spent the night with another man while she was still married. No matter what she felt toward this other guy, it didn't matter. It couldn't matter. And, despite what her actions may indicate, she still loved her husband very much.
She just... indulged the fantasy. And now she had to get out of there before he woke up and asked for things she would never be able to give him.
Hating what she was doing, she gradually shifted away from him. She had to get out of his arms first. Several times she nearly gave in. Her body loved being in his arms even if her head told her it was wrong.
Finally, she managed to slip free. She carefully rose from the bed without disturbing him. Now that she was up, she needed to find her clothes, leave him a quick note, and she would be on her way.
Forgoing the stockings, she folded and stuffed them in her clutch, which she found on the floor. The dress and undergarments were easy enough to find and slip on, but no amount of searching turned up her heels.
She knew one of them may have hit a wall. She had no idea where the other went.
Looking down at the hem of her dress which hit the floor and covered every part of her, she decided continuing to look would be a bad thing if he woke up. She didn't want to talk to him again. Yes, she was a coward. She couldn't face him. She knew what she was doing made her a horrible person. She didn't want to hurt him, but she didn't have any other choice.
She scribbled a note, hoping it was enough to make sure he didn't try to find her. After last night, she wasn't sure he would give up so easily.
Walking out of the room in her bare feet, she strode as quickly as she could get away with, hoping the dress hid her feet, clenching her clutch as hard as she could. She checked in at valet and, before she knew it, she was on the road heading home, wondering if she had it in her to pretend none of it had ever happened.
Something was poking him.
Ryan shifted, trying to get comfortable. He reached for her, but she wasn't in bed. He glanced around. Maybe she was in the bathroom? The incessant poking captured his attention again so he dug some more and finally came up with one of her heels.
He smirked sleepily and lay back down. She was going to need that later.
He fell asleep once more, assuming she would be joining him again shortly.
When he woke up much later though, he wasn't sure of the time but he was very sure of the coolness of the sheets on the other side of the bed.
She wasn't in bed, and she hadn't been there for a while.
His head shot up and he saw the heel where he left it.
She had to still be there. Her shoes were.
He sat up and surveyed the room.
Nothing stirred. He was the only presence there.
Her clothes were gone. The clutch she threw at a table was gone.
On the table top was a piece of hotel stationary.
Dread swirling in his gut, he made his way slowly to the note.
Every part of him begged it not to say anything bad, begged it to say she had to step out for a few minutes but would be back, begged for it to be a phone number because she had to leave but wanted to see him again.
But, he already knew what it was. Because deep down he knew her, didn't he?
I'm sorry, I have to go. Thank you but last night was all we can ever have. Please do NOT try to find me. I can't be with you. I don't want to be with you. But I promise, I won't ever forget you.
No "Dear", no ending signature. They didn't know each other's names after all, and she certainly wasn't going to offer hers at this point.
He sank heavily into the chair next to the table, his legs weak.
There had to be some kind of mistake. Why would she leave? What had he done wrong? Nothing. Last night was perfect. He gave her everything.
He needed to talk to her. All he needed to do was find her. He knew he could convince her they could be together. He couldn't give up just because she told him to.
I don't want to be with you.
Reading that felt like a kick to the chest but it couldn't be true. It couldn't.
But then his gaze fell on her heel, still resting on the bed.
She wanted to get away from him so badly that she left behind a pair of shoes that probably cost close to a grand.
He couldn't ignore the evidence, no matter how much he wanted to.
She really really didn't want to be with him.
And he was never going to know why.
Present Day
Wrapped up in her memories, Hope clenched the steering wheel. She had long since stopped in a random parking lot, unable to escape the past.
Remembering how she tried so hard at first to forget about her mystery guy, but it was impossible.
Landon came home a week later.
By then she had gotten tested for everything but pregnancy. That one, she knew she needed to wait on. But the others, she knew she could trust him. She wasn't surprised when all the tests came back negative. She had to take them though. She couldn't bring anything home to her husband. Not that she thought they would be together much longer—that was the whole point of that night, wasn't it?
But then Landon came home.
When they talked he finally admitted that all of his problems came from the fact he felt he had let her down. He knew how important having a big family was to her, which was why he didn't want her to try other options.
He wanted to be able to give her exactly what she wanted and it killed him that he couldn't give that to her. After months of trying, he was getting disillusioned himself. He didn't want to accept that it wasn't happening, so he made sure to be out of town so he could go on pretending it was possible. He knew it was wrong, that he should have talked it out with her instead of running away from the issue.
Landon apologized so many times and asked for her forgiveness. He had never heard her give up on anything before but he heard it in her voice on the phone that night. And it scared him.
She would never forget the fear in his eyes as he spoke.
"Please, don't give up on me. I don't know who I am without you."
The guilt nearly destroyed her. She didn't know how to tell him the truth, so she didn't.
But she agreed to take things slow with him again. She asked for time to see how things went when they focused on each other and rebuilt the strength of their relationship that they had lost. And they did just that, took things slow and went on dates, enjoying time together like they used to before baby-making became such a huge part of their lives.
She didn't sleep with him though. Not yet. Not when the biggest question was still hovering in the back of her mind somewhere.
When her period didn't start on time, she knew. Somehow she knew she wasn't just a little late. She knew she was pregnant. She took an at home pregnancy test to confirm.
The joy and happiness she felt when the word "Pregnant" stared back at her on that thin stick were indescribable. In her hand was proof that one of her greatest dreams was happening.
Then she sat down and thought really hard about what to do next.
Caressing her flat stomach with a slight smile on her face, she thought about her mystery man and the father of her child.
She didn't know his name. Didn't know anything about him, not really. The only thing she knew was the way he made her feel physically. She felt so comfortable with him, and if he had wantedchildren she never would've left him. She had no way of finding him though.
But the gift he gave her, she would always cherish.
The guilt proved too much..
She didn't want anything to mar her tiny miracle.
Landon needed to know the truth. He deserved to know the truth.
Hope grimaced, remembering the hardest conversation of her life.
"What…are you doing?" Landon asked, coming into their bedroom to find her sitting with her legs crossed on the bed, small piles of clothes surrounding her and an open suitcase.
"I-I… need to tell you something," she said, pressing her palms together, trying to keep her composure but it was really hard to meet his eyes.
"Are you going somewhere?" he asked.
"I will be," she nodded. "You're going to want me to."
"Hope, what's going on?"
She took a deep breath and made herself look him in the eye as she gave him the truth.
"I cheated on you," she said.
He struggled to swallow, uncomprehending, "Wh-What…"
"The night of the gala," she looked down to fortify herself, then back up again. "I… no. There's no excuse for what I did. I cheated on you."
He looked away and she could see him trembling. She wanted to go to him. But what could she do?
"I know there's no forgiving this," she said. "So I should go. I'll leave so you don't have to. I—"
"Who?" he finally choked out.
"I met him at the gala," she said. "I didn't know him. I was upset and I… it just happened."
"How long?" he struggled to ask.
"It was just that night," she said.
"You're not leaving to go to him?" he asked, his hands fisting at his sides.
"No," she denied, shaking her head. "It was just that once. I wouldn't know how to reach him even if I wanted to. I don't know his name."
"You don't know his—" he cut off the question before he finished, the emotions choking him and cutting through his disbelief.
"Why?" he managed to ask.
"I was upset, unhappy, and all the things I told you when you got home," she said, wincing. She didn't want to point all of that out because she didn't want him to once think her doing this was his fault. This was all on her.
"No," he shook his head. "Why are you telling me now? Why didn't you just tell me when it happened?"
"Because I'm pregnant," she said, glancing heavenward as she fought back her own emotions. She was not going to cry over being pregnant. She did not regret this baby.
The sound he made nearly broke her though. The emotion he was choking on came out, and she heard him sob and laugh at the same time. He grasped hold of the doorframe and she could see his fingers dig into the wood.
"I'm so sorry," she finally said, her tears springing forth. She wasn't crying over being pregnant, she was crying for hurting him. She loved him. He was her husband, and her best friend, and she… just destroyed him.
Why didn't she think of Landon and what she was doing to him once that night? How could she do that to him? What kind of person was she?
She struggled to her feet and started flinging the piles into the suitcase.
"I'll just go, I'm sorry," she said, sobbing now too. "I'll go. I'll go." She struggled to get the suitcase zipped and cursed when her eyes flooded so much she couldn't see.
"How do you know it's not mine?" he finally asked.
"Landon, you know… you can't," she forced the words out. "We haven't…"
"But we did, before I left for that trip," he said, resting his forehead against the door jam.
"I wasn't ovulating," she said. "And you know, you know it's just not possible."
"Don't tell me what I know, because apparently there's a lot I don't know!" he exclaimed, his voice getting loud for the first time.
"We'll… have a test," she said, deflating. "After the baby's born and—"
"No!" he turned around, his eyes flashing and red rimmed. "No more tests! I'm tired of the tests!"
"Then what do you want me to do!" she threw her hands up and turned around. "Just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it! I've been pretty much doing that this entire time anyway!"
"That's not fair," he practically yelled.
"No, no, you're right," she backed down because now wasn't the time to bring that up. "I'm sorry. None of this is your fault. Just tell me what you want me to do. I don't want to hurt you anymore."
He scoffed, then dropped his head into his hands.
She waited, not sure of anything anymore.
After several long minutes, he finally looked up, his eyes even more red, the tears leaving tracks down his cheeks.
"Everything happens for a reason," he muttered. "You're my wife…and that child is mine."
She went to speak but he held up a hand.
"I don't want you to leave," he bit out. "But I can't look at you right now either."
She nodded.
"I'll…be back later," he said, then turned and left.
Five years later, she repeated those words to herself in the car over and over again.
"Everything happens for a reason."
Well, that reason better be worth it.
Landon hadn't wanted to end their marriage, but he was a wreck for a while. She stepped back and gave him any and all space he needed. She wasn't sure she would've ever been able to forgive him if the tables were reversed but for some reason he was eventually able to. She worried things would get worse again after the baby was born, but Landon fully accepted her son as his son. He was the doting father who fell instantly in love. It didn't matter that the baby more than likely wasn't biologically his. Landon did everything right. In some ways, the birth of their son made everything they went through worth it. And gradually Landon forgave her completely.
The new information about Ryan had thrown her into a tailspin.
She just had to have faith everything would work out.
And she needed to deal with all of this instead of running away once more.
Pulling out her phone, she called her brother-in-law.
"Raf, could you do me a favor and take him for the night too? Some last minute fundraiser planning might turn into an all nighter unfortunately," she lied.
"Not a problem," he said. "What time should I bring him tomorrow?"
"I'm not sure... can I let you know?" She wasn't sure how tomorrow was going to go, but she knew he shouldn't be anywhere near it until the dust settled.
"Yeah, you'll probably need sleep after an all nighter," Rafael laughed. "No worries, I got him."
"Thanks! You're a life saver," she said with forced cheer.
Ending the call, she scrolled through the phone. Staring at Landon's contact photo, she knew what she had to do but she desperately did not want to do it.
A little late for that.
"Hey," his voice sounded. "I was just going to call you."
"What time will you be home in the morning?" she asked a little abruptly.
"Funny story, we finished the song early so I was able to get an earlier flight. I'll be home tonight," he said.
Even better, she thought. Instead of a sleepless night, going over everything in her head, she would only get a few hours.
"Good," she said, nodding.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm just glad you're coming home early. There's something I want to talk to you about," she said.
She didn't want to do this to him, especially not now, it was the last thing he needed, but she didn't have any other choice.
To be continued…