Free Against The Wall by Rhyannon Byrd Page A

away from his plans for Shea and his own uneasiness about them, to Hannah and Derek, “or I might be tempted to stick my nose in your own sex life and lend old Kiely a hand with you.”
    She groaned, but ignored the loaded comment, saying instead, “Fine, I’m going to go now, but I’ll call back on Sunday before I head home. I’d call tomorrow, but I’m going to be visiting my grandmother in the hospital all day.”
    “Fine. I’ll tell Shea you called and that you’ll call on Sunday.”
    More silence, and then, “Okay. But remember what I said, Ry. Hurt her and I’m going to make you sorry. I’ll become the biggest pain in the butt you’ve ever known. It’ll be worse than that time I put fire ants in your bed after you stole my bra and sold it to that snake Peter Gaze in the sixth grade. Godzilla will be like a teddy bear compared to me. You know I love you, Ry, but somebody’s got to keep you in line. Got it?”
    The water was off now, and suddenly all he could think about was Shea’s wet, warm, dripping body—his for the taking. He gritted his teeth and muttered, “Yeah. Later, Hannah. And I love you too.”
    He hung up the phone, sprawled out on the bed, and tried not to think about how badly he wanted to sink inside of the woman about to walk through the bathroom door. Knowing he needed a distraction, he unclipped his cell phone from his belt and called in to check his voicemail at work.
    While he went through his messages, a paperback caught his attention on her bedside table. Without really thinking about it, just acting on his natural curiosity where this woman was concerned, he reached out and grabbed it, flicking through the pages with his thumb until he randomly stopped about midway through.
    The first word he saw caught his attention, but the second one nearly made his eyes bug out.
    Holy shit! Who would’ve ever thought it? Scholarly little Shea liked to read women’s erotica. How freaking stunning was that? He’d have smiled at the thought of her lying in this bed, snuggled up with her book and sexy little story…if only the thought didn’t make him fucking hard as nails.
    What did she do when she read this stuff? Did she get wet? Did she reach between her sweet, slender thighs and stroke her clit? Finger her pussy? His eyes squeezed shut while a painful torrent of erotic images burned through his brain, leaving him shaky and aching and damn near on the verge of ripping out his cock and pumping himself to some sort of peace right there and then.
    No matter how well he thought he had this woman pegged, she kept shifting the tables on him. Going to Red’s to try and pick him up. Wearing that little fuck-me dress and sandals, looking like a wet dream on legs. Reading soft-core erotica that would have made even the women at Red’s blush. Jesus, no wonder he was so damn fascinated with her.
    Five minutes later, Ryan was still halfway listening to the sound of Derek’s voice giving him an update on Spalding, while his twisted imagination tortured him with image upon image of Shea. He saw her spread-eagled on her bed, knees up, the graceful fingers of one hand holding the lips of her cunt wide while the fingers of the other stroked and dipped into that sweet little hole that his tongue had been shoved up not fifteen minutes ago.
    Oh Christ. He was trembling, a trickle of sweat dripping across his brow at the jaw-grinding visual assault, when she finally came through the door, flushed and smelling sweetly of vanilla, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten.
    Well, food at least.
    “You took long enough,” he muttered, his tone rougher than he’d intended. His eyes devoured her near-naked body while Derek’s voice became a nondescript noise in the background, his complete attention captured by Shea.
    She nearly lost her hold on her towel as she jumped a foot in the air at the husky sound of his voice. “You scared the hell out of me!” she yelped, spinning around to pin him with a glare,