“I already gave you my answer, Ryan,” I told him quietly.
With a groan, he released me. “Fine. We can revisit this discussion later. Shower. I’ll get us food.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I gave him a small smile and watched as he left the room. The bathroom was smaller than the one I had at the Vitucci compound, but nonetheless beautiful. The shower was all smooth sandstone with a rain shower head mounted to the ceiling and two handhelds that attached to the walls on either side. The entire back wall had six larger shower heads that could be turned on individually.
While the water warmed, I explored the rest of the bathroom. The counter held double sinks, with only one looking as if it were in use. One toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste were in a holder, and Ryan’s razor and a comb were neatly laid out beside a folded hand towel. The toilet was off in one corner, with a sliding door to offer added privacy.
Opening the small closet beside the shower, I took out two towels and a washcloth before pushing my panties over my hips and letting them fall to the floor. Stepping under the spray, I whimpered at the heat and gentle jets as they rained down on me.
Pushing my wet hair out of my face, I reached for the shampoo only to stop with my hand frozen in midair when I saw the selections of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Most were what I recognized as Ryan’s products, except for an extra bottle of body wash that was my favorite.
But the biggest surprise for me was that it was at least half empty.
Jealousy hit me so hard I gasped at the pressure it added to my lungs. No. He’d said he hadn’t been with anyone. Ryan had never lied to me—except by omission. And what guy would even fib about being a virgin? Not one I’d ever met, that was for sure. They wanted to brag about their experience, not pretend like they had none.
But why did Ryan have a bottle of my body wash in his shower that had obviously been regularly used?
Angrily, I quickly washed and conditioned my hair. But instead of using the body wash, I grabbed his and soaped my entire body with it. I didn’t linger and try out the wall of different pressure shower heads. Turning off the water, I grabbed one towel to wrap around my hair before drying off with the other.
Back in the bedroom, I found it still empty and pulled a T-shirt and a pair of boxers from a drawer in the walk-in closet. With my hair still wrapped in a towel, I marched into the kitchen in search of Ryan.
He was standing at the island crafting sandwiches, while something simmered on the stove. A tray had already been set with bowls and plates, two glasses filled with ice and cans of soda beside them. Lifting his head from his task, Ryan raked his dark eyes over me in his clothes, and his nostrils flared with approval.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured with a smirk.
I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him even as the rest of my body tried to melt under his hungry appraisal. “Who uses the bottle of my favorite body wash that’s in your shower?”
The smirk only grew into a grin. “Think about it for a moment, my heart. I’m sure the answer will come to you.”
“Ryan, tell me!” I hated that my voice was all whiny, but I wanted an answer, damn it.
Dropping the butter knife into the jar of mayo, he walked around the island. Bending, he lifted me by the waist, and I instantly wrapped my legs around his. “I do.”
I buried my face in his neck, sniffing his skin, but all I could smell was him. “No, you don’t. There’s too much of it gone, and you smell nothing like it.”
Laughing, he carried me over to the island and sat me on the granite top before caging me in with his arms. “Baby, I use it every time I shower, and sometimes I shower several times a day. Because I can’t get you out of my mind, and I need to smell you. On me.” He leaned in, skimming his nose down my neck. With a pained groan, he bit into the tender flesh just under my ear. “Fuck, you smell like me. I love that, my heart. It makes me so damn hard.”
“B-but you don’t smell like me,” I tried to argue, the ache between my legs suddenly pulsing to the beat of my heart.
“My cock does, though,” he rasped against my ear. “Because I use your body wash to jerk myself off.”
I clenched my eyes shut as that image played out in my head, my entire body trembling at how turned on it made me.
“You are always on my mind, Nova. The first thought in my head when I open my eyes each morning. I stare at all of our pictures together on my phone before I can fall asleep. A million times throughout the day, you filter through my brain. Each and every time, I get so hard, it nearly brings me to my knees.” He trailed his lips from my ear down to my shoulder, where he sank his teeth in, pulling a moan from deep within me as he marked my skin. “Sometimes, just the smell of your body wash when I get into the shower is enough to make me go off the second my hand touches my cock.”
“Oh my God.” I tried to scoot closer, but he grasped my ass cheeks in each hand and held me in place. “Ryan, please.”
“Please what, my heart?” he murmured. “Tell me.”
“Please touch me. Just once,” I begged shamelessly. “Th-that’s all it will take, I swear.”
“Hold that thought for two seconds,” he said as he released me and turned to the stove.
The loss of his hands on my body bordered on pain, and I couldn’t contain my cry as he transferred the soup to a different burner. Two seconds were all he needed, and then he was back, using his hands on my knees to spread my thighs wider before pulling me to the edge of the counter and pressing his hardness right where I needed it the most.
“Ryan!” My scream was muffled against his shoulder as my arms went around him, holding on for dear life as pleasure detonated inside me from just the pressure of his cock against my core. It felt so good that tears stung my eyes, and I quickly tried to hide them from him.
“No, don’t ever hide from me,” he growled. When he saw the tears glazing my eyes, his face tightened. “Did I hurt you?”
“I’m just so happy,” I told him honestly, unable to keep from sniffling. “I never thought this would be possible—that you could or would ever want me the same way I want you. Tonight has been better than any birthday or Christmas present I could have ever gotten.”
He touched his lips to the center of my forehead. “Speaking of birthday and Christmas presents, I still need to give you both.”
I looked up at him through my lashes. “Does that mean more of what I just got?” I asked hopefully.
“There will be plenty of that, I promise,” he said with a smirk. “I’m talking about actual presents. I accidentally forgot your birthday present on the plane last month, and then we didn’t see each other for Christmas.”
“Oh,” I mumbled, lowering my gaze to his chest. His shirt was still partially unbuttoned, and he’d gotten rid of his tie.
“But first, we’re going to eat.” He brushed a soft, quick kiss over my lips before stepping back from between my legs. Ryan adjusted himself in his pants, grimacing as if he were in pain for a moment before turning so he could take the soup and pour it into the two bowls on the tray.
I watched him in silence as he finished putting our meal together. I didn’t want to open any presents. It wasn’t like I was scared of what he might have gotten me for either occasion. The present I’d bought him for Christmas was in my room at home, wrapped in shiny gold paper with a red ribbon. I’d considered packing it, but in the end, I hadn’t wanted to tempt myself with the possibility of seeing him under the ruse of giving him the gift.