1.4 The Taste of the Wrong Man

Leana stared at her reflection in the full length mirror and told herself to breathe. “You can do this,” she muttered, smoothing down the front of her blouse for the third time. Her hands were unsteady.

The very idea of sitting across from Ryan again, pretending the night they shared was a single reckless accident felt like walking into a house that was already on fire and trying to convince everyone the smoke was decorative.

She had spent the day wrestling with her conscience. The right thing, the good thing, would be to pull her mother aside, to confess everything. But the words wouldn’t form. How could she say them? "Mom, the man I slept with last night, the one whose scent I can still smell on my skin, is your fiancé’s brother."

It was a sentence that belonged in a soap opera, not in her life. It would detonate the fragile new happiness her mother had found. She couldn't be the one to do that. So, silence was the only option. A silence that felt heavy and loud in her head.

By the time she fastened the delicate chain around her neck, she’d already rehearsed a dozen polite greetings, all of which evaporated as soon as she imagined those storm-gray eyes on her again.

“Just stay composed,” she whispered. “Be polite. Be normal. Don’t let him see he still…” She stopped herself. That word didn’t belong anywhere near Ryan.

The walk to David’s building felt like a march to the gallows. Each step echoed her heartbeat. When the elevator ascended to his penthouse, her palms were damp. She wiped them on the sleek fabric of her dress, took a deep breath, and fixed a polite, neutral smile on her face just as the doors slid open.

David appeared in the hallway, warm and affable as ever. He greeted them. He leaned in, brushing her cheek with a friendly kiss.

Over his shoulder, Leana’s eyes found him. He was leaning against the far wall of the open-plan living room, a glass of red wine swirling in his hand. He wore dark trousers and a simple white button-down, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the corded forearms.

Ryan pushed off the wall and walked toward them. Each step was deliberate. “Leana,” he said smoothly, inclining his head. “Good to see you again.”

Her mouth went dry. “You too.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he replied, his gray eyes holding hers, the double meaning hanging in the air between them.

Dinner began as any polite gathering should, David’s stories about the business, Julie’s gentle interruptions, the clink of silverware. But beneath it all, there was that constant hum of awareness, sharp as an electric wire.

Ryan played his part flawlessly. Charming but not boastful. Attentive but reserved. Every so often, though, his gaze would drift across the table and meet hers. Each time, her heart jolted like she’d touched something hot. Leana was trapped in the direct line of fire of his gaze. Every time she looked up, he was watching her.

“The real estate market is just incredible these days,” Julie was saying, sipping her wine. “David, you were so smart to buy this place when you did.”

“A bit of luck, darling,” David said, patting her hand. “Ryan’s the one with the killer instinct. His firm just closed the Kensington merger. Nasty bit of business, but he pulled it off.”

Ryan shrugged, his eyes flicking to Leana. “It’s all about knowing what you want and being relentless in the pursuit. Don’t you agree, Leana?”

She nearly choked on a piece of asparagus. She took a sip of water, buying time. “I think determination is important. But so is knowing when something is worth the potential fallout.”

His lips quirked. “The highest rewards often carry the greatest risks. I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge.”

Julie beamed, oblivious. “I love that you’re already comfortable around each other. Makes things easier.”

Comfortable. Leana nearly laughed.

Ryan’s lips twitched. “We’re getting there,” he said lightly, his eyes flicking toward her before he pulled out his chair.

The word hung there, charged.

David, thankfully, broke the moment by launching into a story about his first big contract. Leana tried to listen. Really, she did. But her pulse wouldn’t slow. She could feel Ryan’s gaze like heat along her skin. Under the table, her foot accidentally brushed against his. She jerked it back as if shocked. He didn’t move. A slow, devastating smile spread across his face.

“This is wonderful, David,” Leana said, desperate to change the subject. “The food, I mean. It’s delicious.”

“Thank you, my dear! Ryan picked the wine. He has a much better palate than I do.”

Ryan’s eyes never left Leana’s. “It’s all about the finish. The initial taste can be pleasing, but it’s the aftertaste, the one that lingers on your tongue long after the glass is empty, that’s what tells you its true quality.”

Leana’s breath hitched. She was drowning in subtext.

Later, as dessert was being cleared, David clapped Ryan on the shoulder. “Why don’t you show Leana the study, Ryan? She’s an architect, she’ll appreciate the design.”

It was a perfectly normal request from a man trying to integrate his brother and his future step-daughter. But it felt like a death sentence.

Ryan didn’t miss a beat. “Of course.”

Leana froze. “Oh, that’s not necessary…”

“Go on, sweetie. It’s gorgeous. David had it redone last year,” Julie said

Ryan’s hand rested lightly on the back of her chair. “After you,” he murmured.

The hallway was quiet. Dim light from the sconces brushed the walls in gold. Leana’s heels clicked softly against the hardwood, each step echoing in the silence. When he opened the study door, she hesitated on the threshold. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, the polite facade of the dinner vanished, replaced by a crackling, palpable energy.

He didn’t move toward the books. He stood by the door, watching her.

Leana turned sharply. “You shouldn’t have…”

“I didn’t,” he interrupted, voice even. “David asked me to.”

“You know what I mean.”

He took a slow step closer. “Do I?”

“Ryan.” Her voice came out as a whisper. “We can’t…”

He stopped just a foot away, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. He didn’t touch her at first. He just stood before her, his body a breath away from hers. He reached out, but not for her. His fingers trailed over the edge of the desk beside her hip.

Leana tried to look away, but his hand came up, his fingertips tracing her jaw, barely there. The gentleness of it undid her.

“Stop,” she breathed, but it lacked conviction.

He leaned closer, his voice a low rumble. “I haven’t been able to think of anything but you,” he confessed, his voice a raw, low growl that was both a confession and an accusation. “The taste of you. The sound you make when you come apart.”

Leana shuddered at his words, desire flooding through her. Her hands came up to rest on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. She could smell him, that spicy, masculine scent that drove her wild.

Ryan took her chin between his thumb and finger, tilting her head back. He looked down at her with those intense eyes, full of hunger and need. His lips brushed hers, once, twice, before pressing in for a deep, sensual kiss. Leana moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled her flush against him, one hand on the small of her back, the other sliding into her hair

She couldn't think straight, overwhelmed by the feel of his body against hers, his hands on her, his lips on her. She kissed him back fiercely, all tongue and teeth. Her hips rolled into his, seeking friction, seeking more.

Ryan's hand slid down her back to grab her ass, squeezing. He lifted her easily, setting her on the desk. Papers crunched beneath them as he pressed between her thighs. She could feel how hard he was, how much he wanted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Fuck," he growled against her lips. "I need you, Leana. I need to be inside you."

He made quick work of her dress, pulling the top down to expose her breasts. He pushed her bra up, revealing her nipples. He latched onto one, sucking hard. Leana cried out, arching into him. He pulled back only to yank his shirt off over his head. Then he was on her again, kissing down her neck as he unbuttoned her dress. He shoved it down her hips and off, leaving her in just her bra and panties.

He spun her around gently, pressing her front against the cool, polished wood of the desk. He stood behind her, his body molding to hers, his mouth finding the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. His hands roamed her back, learning every inch of exposed skin, before sliding around her waist, pulling her back against the hard, unyielding evidence of his desire.

“They’re just in the other room,” she moaned, even as she arched back into him.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with a thrilling, dangerous excitement. “It just makes you taste sweeter.”

He took a moment to just look at her, drinking her in. "God, you're gorgeous," he breathed.

Leana blushed, biting her lip. "You're not so bad yourself."

He chuckled, then sobered as his eyes darkened with lust. "Lie back," he ordered.

She did as he said, scooting up on the desk until her head hit the wall. Ryan reached down to unzip his pants, pushing them down just enough to free his cock. It sprang out, hard and thick. She licked her lips at the sight. Ryan fished a condom out of his pocket, rolling it on with quick, efficient movements.

With a low groan, he thrust into her, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt. They both cried out at the sensation, bodies locking together perfectly. Ryan started to move, slow and deep at first. Leana could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of her. It was maddening and perfect and she never wanted it to end.

"More," she demanded, wrapping her legs around him again. "Fuck me harder."

Ryan complied eagerly, picking up the pace. The desk shook beneath them as he pounded into her. Leana could feel the pleasure building already, winding tighter and tighter in her core.

"Oh god," she gasped. "Yes, just like that. Don't stop."

Ryan's hand snaked between their bodies to rub at her clit as he fucked her. It was too much and Leana came with a sharp cry, seeing stars behind her eyelids. He followed right after, thrusting deep and coming hard. He collapsed against her, breathing heavily.

They lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow. Then Ryan pulled out, disposing of the condom and pulling his pants back up. Leana sat up slowly, gathering her dress and pulling it back on. Her legs felt like jelly.

"We should go," she said regretfully.

He nodded. “Now, we pretend to be good.” Ryan caught her arm as she tried to slide off the desk. He pulled her into another searing kiss. "This isn't over," he promised darkly.

When they rejoined the others, Julie was laughing at something David had said. She looked up, smiling.

“You two were gone a while,” she teased. “Getting along, I hope?”

Leana forced a smile, praying her voice didn’t shake. “Just admiring the design.”

“Of course,” Julie said warmly. “Ryan, didn’t I tell you she’d love it?”

Ryan’s smile was impeccable. “You were right. I’m sure she absolutely loved and enjoyed it.”

The statement, so full of maternal hope and blissful ignorance, was a knife twisted in Leana’s gut.

That night, long after she returned home, Leana sat in the dark, staring at her reflection in the window. Her lipstick was faded, her pulse still unsteady.

Every rational part of her screamed to end it, to let the memory fade before it became something impossible. But when she closed her eyes, she could still feel his breath against her skin and hear his voice.

“Now, we pretend to be good.”