against it and put her head in her hands. She’d called Ryan to help her out of a sticky situation with James. Only, she was starting to feel like she’d walked into an even stickier one with Ryan.
One where her nearly unstoppable fantasies of being more than a friend ran the risk of breaking apart the friendship she’d always held so dear.
* * *
Ryan felt like hell the next morning. Two nights of practically no sleep combined with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit had him out on the beach at first light, trying to run off what felt like a hangover. He was pitching today and knew better than to push himself too hard, but after his run, he went straight to his home gym anyway.
He could still feel Vicki’s warm breath on his lips from last night when she’d leapt into his arms and the way her soft curves had pressed against his groin and chest as she let him soothe away her fears. Despite how much the movie had frightened her, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret the fact that he’d been able to hold her for a few incredible moments because of it.
Sweet Lord, he’d never wanted to kiss anyone the way he wanted to kiss her. And he’d almost convinced himself that it would be okay to give in to the powerful urge, when she’d scrambled off his lap and practically run up the stairs to her bedroom to get away from him.
He’d offered her his guest room because she needed a friend to help her out.
He’d never forgive himself if she thought he expected any kind of sexual payment for the favor, but the way he was acting with her, he wouldn’t blame her for thinking that.
Added to that were his worries about how quickly she seemed to want to chuck in their “relationship.” As soon as he finished his workout, he was going to call Rafe to push for more information on James.
Hard rock music pounded as he worked with the machines before moving to the free weights. But even though he was frustrated as hell by an arousal that had absolutely no outlet where Vicki was concerned, he wasn’t stupid enough to push himself past the twinge in his right shoulder. He grabbed a clean towel from the shelf against the wall and wiped off his face as he headed down into the kitchen.
Vicki looked up from behind the blender she’d just turned off. “Want to share my fruit smoothie?”
“Sounds great. Thanks.” He absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder as he grabbed an ice pack from the freezer to put on it. “You sleep okay?”
“How could I not in that bed?”
Her smile seemed just a little too bright, but then again, he was a grumpy—and horny—bastard today.
“Is your arm hurting?” She slid a full glass over to him and he drank from it gratefully.
He shrugged. “I always ice down after a workout.”
“I had a friend who was working with marble. By the end of her project, she started to hurt pretty bad.” She gave him a tentative smile. “She claims my massages are the reason she was able to see it through to the end.” She flexed her fingers in front of him. “You’re looking at really strong sculptor hands.”
Oh, hell. There was nothing he wanted more in the world than one of her massages, but he wasn’t sure he had the strength of will this morning to actually keep himself in check if she touched him.
“I appreciate the offer—”
Her face fell, but she quickly pasted that too-bright smile over it. “I’m sure you’ve got amazing masseuses among the team trainers who actually know what they’re doing.”
Damn it. He’d just hurt her feelings. It was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Actually, a massage would be great.” When she hesitated, he said, “Where do you want me?”
“One of the kitchen chairs is probably best, so you’re the right height.”
He willed down his erection as he sat on the chair. He could smell her fresh, clean scent as she moved behind him and had to brace himself for the moment her hands touched him. By the time she laid them down on his shoulders, his
One where her nearly unstoppable fantasies of being more than a friend ran the risk of breaking apart the friendship she’d always held so dear.
* * *
Ryan felt like hell the next morning. Two nights of practically no sleep combined with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit had him out on the beach at first light, trying to run off what felt like a hangover. He was pitching today and knew better than to push himself too hard, but after his run, he went straight to his home gym anyway.
He could still feel Vicki’s warm breath on his lips from last night when she’d leapt into his arms and the way her soft curves had pressed against his groin and chest as she let him soothe away her fears. Despite how much the movie had frightened her, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret the fact that he’d been able to hold her for a few incredible moments because of it.
Sweet Lord, he’d never wanted to kiss anyone the way he wanted to kiss her. And he’d almost convinced himself that it would be okay to give in to the powerful urge, when she’d scrambled off his lap and practically run up the stairs to her bedroom to get away from him.
He’d offered her his guest room because she needed a friend to help her out.
He’d never forgive himself if she thought he expected any kind of sexual payment for the favor, but the way he was acting with her, he wouldn’t blame her for thinking that.
Added to that were his worries about how quickly she seemed to want to chuck in their “relationship.” As soon as he finished his workout, he was going to call Rafe to push for more information on James.
Hard rock music pounded as he worked with the machines before moving to the free weights. But even though he was frustrated as hell by an arousal that had absolutely no outlet where Vicki was concerned, he wasn’t stupid enough to push himself past the twinge in his right shoulder. He grabbed a clean towel from the shelf against the wall and wiped off his face as he headed down into the kitchen.
Vicki looked up from behind the blender she’d just turned off. “Want to share my fruit smoothie?”
“Sounds great. Thanks.” He absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder as he grabbed an ice pack from the freezer to put on it. “You sleep okay?”
“How could I not in that bed?”
Her smile seemed just a little too bright, but then again, he was a grumpy—and horny—bastard today.
“Is your arm hurting?” She slid a full glass over to him and he drank from it gratefully.
He shrugged. “I always ice down after a workout.”
“I had a friend who was working with marble. By the end of her project, she started to hurt pretty bad.” She gave him a tentative smile. “She claims my massages are the reason she was able to see it through to the end.” She flexed her fingers in front of him. “You’re looking at really strong sculptor hands.”
Oh, hell. There was nothing he wanted more in the world than one of her massages, but he wasn’t sure he had the strength of will this morning to actually keep himself in check if she touched him.
“I appreciate the offer—”
Her face fell, but she quickly pasted that too-bright smile over it. “I’m sure you’ve got amazing masseuses among the team trainers who actually know what they’re doing.”
Damn it. He’d just hurt her feelings. It was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Actually, a massage would be great.” When she hesitated, he said, “Where do you want me?”
“One of the kitchen chairs is probably best, so you’re the right height.”
He willed down his erection as he sat on the chair. He could smell her fresh, clean scent as she moved behind him and had to brace himself for the moment her hands touched him. By the time she laid them down on his shoulders, his
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