Page 40 of South Beach Bodyguards

That took a second to sink in. “Wait. So where is my dog now? I thought he was with my mom.” I suddenly missed my dog with a massive surge of melancholy. My dog loved me and I could always guarantee a snuggle with Buster.

“With your mom and Mickey, I guess. Probably they went back to his place after they realized I’m not home.” Ryan settled further back into his lounge chair. He looked relaxed and satisfied.

Even though I hadn’t spent a lot of time with Ryan, I would have never classified him as a man who was relaxed, or at ease. He was right now, and at the same time I had the very real feminine glee that I might have had something to do with the casual smile on his face, I was bothered by his dismissal of my dog. It seemed like he should have at least mentioned to me that my mother was planning to bring my dog over.

“I should call my mom.”

“Right now?” Ryan’s eyebrows rose. “You can’t tell her where you are, you know. Do you really want to lie, or do you want me to do the lying?”

That made me frown. I could follow his train of thought. Drawing my knees fully up to my chest, I hugged them tight. The wind tossed my hair across my face but I didn’t bother to pull it away. “Why would I lie? I’ll just tell her I’m here with you. She already knows I’m with you.”

“But you don’t want her to know that we were together, together. You don’t want to give her any reason to suspect that, which I kind of think staying in a hotel does.”

It shouldn’t feel uncomfortable, but it did. “I don’t really care one way or the other. You’re the one who clearly does not want her to know.” It felt a little like rejection even if I knew Ryan was being practical. Even if I knew my mother would not be happy and that I was being more than just a little childish in my defiance.

“This is private,” he said. “Just between you and me.”

“A secret,” I said. “Okay.” It wasn’t okay, not really. But I wasn’t sure why it would bother me. I wasn’t going to run around and tell everyone I met about having sex with Ryan. So why did I care? That was obvious. Because I wanted Ryan to want to tell people. Because I was feeling like a sixteen-year-old girl right now. Geez. I hated that I felt that way.

“I want my dog. I miss him.” It sounded more petulant than I intended. Buster was probably wondering where I was. He was used to me being around all the time.

“We can get her tomorrow.”

My irritation grew. “Him. Buster is a boy. I wish you had told me. Maybe we could have brought him here.”

Ryan made a face. “I don’t think we needed an audience.” He nudged me with his knee. “Are you upset?” He looked like he thought I might be a little bit crazy. His jaw was set and his shoulders had stiffened. He was assessing me.

The knee nudge annoyed me. It was the first time he had touched me since he had pulled out of me. It was too “little buddy” to me. His stare bothered me. I didn’t need to be analyzed. He didn’t need to worry that I might go psycho on him now that we’d hooked up. I knew the situation and I didn’t expect that to change just because he’d put the D in the V. I resented that he would think that I would. Yes, I had feelings but I did have them under control. Well, not under control. But I was going to keep them all inside me, locked away, like I had until I had bumped my head. “No. I just want to see my dog. I want to cuddle with him.”

“I’ll cuddle with you.” Ryan gave me a smirk and took another sip of his beer.

It meant more than it should have. It was an offer of more sex, yet it felt like everything. Yet it really was too little, too late. That moment had come immediately after we had both reached completion. It would have been natural then, for him to pull me into his arms, to caress me. My head on his chest. We were back in the safety of the balcony now, the risk of neighbors seeing us, protecting him from me. From my neediness.

He made a hell of a sexy picture sitting there in his underwear, the night dusky, the ocean rhythmic and hypnotic. He was right– he wasn’t good looking in the most traditional sense. But I thought he was hot. And now I’d had him. He had touched me, everywhere, in ways no one else had before. Once. Just once. I wouldn’t get any more. I could be smart and tell him I didn’t want to cuddle, or just let it drop. It would be the smart thing to do, for self-preservation, and it would be the cool girl thing to do. Yet I couldn’t resist the lure of that smile and the opportunity to tease, flirt a little and have this weird distance between us evaporate a little.

“Oh, yeah? Do you like to be scratched behind the ears like Buster does?” I asked, determined to be casual.

“No. But there are other itches you can scratch.” He gave me a look that was both smoldering and amused, like he knew it was a corny line.

“I’m not scratching your head,” I said. He could assume I meant either one.

His eyebrows went up. “No? Damn. You must bite your nails or something, is that it?” He gave me a wink, looking possibly the most relaxed he ever had around me.

If we were together, for real, this would have been the best conversation ever. It would have made me downright giddy. But this was a side of Ryan I didn’t actually want to see because it made my heart hurt. I ached for him to want more and that just sucked.

I held my hand up to show my nails. Acrylics, because I bit my nails down the quick when they were bare. “I do have good claws.”

“I don’t believe that for a minute.” Ryan stood up, drained his beer and set it down.

He was right. There was no bite to my bark. I yawned. He held his hand out for me.

“Let’s go lie down. I’ll be your stand in for Buster.”

I could have told him that Buster always slept in his basket by my bed, but I didn’t. Ryan wanted back in that bed with me and I wanted nothing more. A hug, a kiss, a round two… whatever he wanted to give, I wanted to take. “That’s awfully nice of you.”

“I aim to please.”

My cheeks warmed. I thought about Ryan earlier, bringing me to orgasm, his careful and considerate attention to my wants so thoughtful and delicious. “You’re pretty damn good at it.”

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