Let Me Be the One (The Sullivans #6)(74)

Because even when Ryan was down on one knee, he was still her friend.

Her best friend.

And he still made her laugh...all while making her burn hotter than she’d known her inner thermostat could go.

“I’ve already lost fifteen years without you. I’m not going to waste another second. You’re everything I’ve been looking for. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” Ryan looked at their linked hands, her sculpture come to life. “That night we held hands in the water outside my house, I felt the same thing you did, Vicki. That nothing, not even water strong enough to carve cliffs, is as strong as our connection. Nothing is ever going to break us apart. Not jobs or miles or creepy bastards. Make me the happiest man alive. Say you’ll marry me and wear this ring.” His mouth curved up into another beautiful grin that took what was left of her breath away. “Let me be the one for real this time.”

One more time, her whole world came down to her hands, to the deliberate way she held out her left ring finger for Ryan, to the cool slide of platinum across the heated surface of skin, and then to the scruff of his jaw against her palms as she held his face and kissed him.

“You’ve always been the one, Ryan. You always will be.”

A heartbeat later, he’d scooped her up into his arms and was practically jogging up the steps.

She was laughing even as she asked, “What floor is your room on?”

“The tenth.”

She only laughed harder at the thought of his trying to run ten floors with her in his arms, but she knew better than to try to stop him when he was hands-down the most determined man she’d ever known.

Of course, she wasn’t surprised when he made carrying her up ten flights of stairs look so easy. He was barely even winded as he pushed open the door to his room.

What did surprise her, however, was when he put her down on the bed, told her to stay put in that deliciously dominant voice of his, and went back into the front room to make a phone call. Wondering what he was up to, her heart pounding in anticipation, a few minutes later she heard a knock on the door and Ryan saying thank you to someone in his low voice.

His gaze was full of wicked intent when he came into the bedroom, his hands held behind his back. “Remember what I wanted to do to you our first night together?”

Even though it had barely been a week since they’d first made love, that night had been such a blur of pleasure and sensation that all she could think to answer was, “Everything?”

She loved the purely carnal sound of his laughter.

“You always have been able to read my mind,” he teased her. “Now take your clothes off and I’ll show you.”

He sat back on the couch against the opposite wall, still hiding whatever was in his hands from her.

Even after making love several times that week, she was amazed to realize there were still so many firsts for them, like stripping down for Ryan. She’d done it over the phone the night before, but never in person. He’d always ripped the clothes off her before she could do a thing to help.

Inherently shy, it was tempting just to quickly shove off the tank top and leggings she’d worn from the studio to the plane and beg him to join her on the bed. But that wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

Slowly, she got up off the bed and walked across the room to stand in front of him. With every step, Ryan’s gaze heated up more and more. Her nerves gave way to a rush of joy.

He was hers.

And she was his.

Keeping her gaze locked with his, she reached for the hem of her tank top and slid it up over her waist, then her br**sts, one slow inch at a time. By the time she pulled her shirt up over her head, and uncovered black lace, air was whooshing out of Ryan’s lungs.

“Gorgeous, Vicki. You’re so damn gorgeous.”

She was smiling by the time she threw her shirt to the side. “Wait,” she teased, “there’s more.”

Her thumbs went into the waistband of her leggings a moment later so that she could slide them down over her hips to reveal the matching lace thong. Just as her leggings fell to the floor and she stepped out of them, he wrapped two big hands around her bared bottom cheeks and pulled her into him so that he could press kisses against her stomach, her hip bones, and then the sheer fabric covering her sex.

Her breath was coming fast now, faster still when he slid two fingers beneath her panties and into her. A heartbeat later, she was lying on the couch and he was lowering his deliciously heavy weight to her so that they could kiss and grind against each other.

Maybe it was because they had first fallen for each other as teenagers, but she loved the way they always got down and dirty on the couch like two horny kids who couldn’t get enough of each other even when a bed was just feet away.

He levered himself up from her just enough to remove her bra and panties, but once she was naked, instead of coming back into her arms, he simply stared.

“I can hardly believe you’re mine.” His whispered words were filled with awe. Pure, never-ending desire.

And so much love it filled her to overflowing.

“Always,” she whispered back. “Forever.”

She was reaching to pull him in for more kisses, when her elbow smacked into something hard. And cold. And wet.

“Sorry about that,” he said as he lifted her elbow up to press a kiss to it. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He pulled a champagne bottle out of its hiding place. “Surprise.”