Yes. “No. Not at all. See you in the mornin’.”
Clay nodded but thankfully didn’t say anything.
And with that, Ryan snuck upstairs, his heart pounding in his chest, and it had nothing to do with the climb.
NINETEEN
AFTER CHANGING OUT OF HIS suit, Z had stopped in the hallway, listening to the rumble of voices from below. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he wasn’t ready to interrupt. Because his night had taken a sudden turn backward, he was biding his time, hoping for a little alone time with RT but not wanting to give RT too much time to start thinking again. The man was on the verge of giving Z whiplash with his frequent mood swings as it was.
Which was why Z was waiting for RT when he reached the top of the stairs.
Using his hand to cover RT’s mouth, Z jerked him closer, then pressed him up against the wall, smirking at the shock that registered on RT’s too handsome face.
Lowering his hand, Z replaced it with his mouth, crushing himself up against him, his hands sliding into the cool strands of RT’s blond hair. RT didn’t try to pull away, which only sparked another flame, causing Z to ignite beneath the sensual onslaught.
RT took control, pushing until Z was the one against the wall, their tongues dueling, neither of them giving up control but both of them desperate to maintain it. When RT’s rigid cock slid against Z’s—the only thing that separated them was their clothing—he couldn’t stop the rumble that came from his throat.
Then it was RT’s turn to pull back and slam his hand over Z’s mouth. Their eyes met, locked, but neither moved. There were numerous unspoken questions between them.
Did they continue this?
If so, where?
But the biggest question…should they?
As far as Z was concerned, this moment had been inevitable. No matter how hard RT tried to hold himself back, Z still felt that connection, that need for more. However, he knew that Clay was just downstairs, and honestly, the next time Z was with RT, he didn’t want to have to hold back. And he had no intention of rushing things, either. Call him old-fashioned.
“I’m gonna say this again,” Z whispered. “Your brother has horrible timing.”
RT leaned up and kissed him softly, stunning Z with the sweetness of the gesture. He didn’t linger, though. “Well, he won’t be here forever. But until then…”
Z knew how that sentence ended. He didn’t like it, but he understood. Rather than dwell on the fact he was on the verge of imploding, he slid his thumb over RT’s bottom lip once again, then stepped away. “I’ve waited this long,” Z told him. “What’s a little longer?”
Instead of lingering in the hallway and making things more difficult for both of them, Z headed back downstairs, leaving RT staring after him. Z passed Clay on his way.
“Where’re you headed?” Clay questioned.
“Swim,” he said tersely.
He knew he shouldn’t harbor any ill feelings toward Clay, but he had to admit to being disappointed. The man was there on assignment; it wasn’t his fault he’d interrupted probably the single most important night of Z’s life thus far. The night he would get another chance to prove to RT how fucking good they could be together.
Before heading out, Z grabbed a bottle of water. Setting it on the edge of the pool, he stripped out of his T-shirt and climbed in, this time leaving his shorts on rather than going in naked. It wouldn’t do for Clay to come outside to find Z in his birthday suit.
Although, if RT wanted to join him…
He sank under the water, keeping his eyes open as he tried to relax. When he managed to calm himself somewhat, he started swimming laps until he was tired, which took longer than he’d expected, given the way his hormones were rioting.
Z had no idea how long he’d been out there, staring up at the inky black sky, counting stars while the warm breeze fanned his face and the sound of the waves crashing in the distance soothed his frayed nerves, when he heard the sliding door open.
He turned, catching a glimpse of RT standing in the doorway, wearing only a pair of loose-fitting shorts. Z’s body instantly stirred to life once again. He hadn’t expected RT to come out there. In fact, he’d expected the man to find a way to withdraw entirely, yet there he was.
Neither of them said a word. RT closed the door, then joined Z in the water, keeping a safe distance between them. Z maintained his position against one wall, his arms spread wide along the concrete edge. He never took his eyes off RT.
Long minutes passed before RT finally spoke. “What you said earlier…” RT dipped down, submerging his shoulders and moving his arms in the water, still keeping several feet between them. “That you’d waited this long. What did you mean by that?”
There was a distinct insecurity in RT’s voice. Z found it hard to believe the man had a vulnerable side, but if he wasn’t mistaken, it was coming to the surface.
“You didn’t think this was spur-of-the-moment, did you?” Z replied, keeping his voice low.
“It had crossed my mind,” RT said.
Of course. RT was under the impression Z was a playboy, sleeping with endless men on a nightly basis. Z had to wonder whether RT would call him on it. Thankfully, he didn’t. Z certainly didn’t want a replay of their conversation at breakfast. It’d hurt to know that RT truly believed the rumors, more so that he didn’t have a problem throwing them in Z’s face in order to keep his distance.
But that wasn’t important right now. RT had come to him.
Z finally said, “I’ve noticed you for years, Ryan. Many years. And I’m pretty sure you know that.”
His statement seemed to surprise RT. That or the fact that Z had referred to him by his name again, rather than the nickname he’d been given. Either way, Z liked the response, the way one golden eyebrow cocked, his mouth partially open while he stared back at Z, obviously at a loss for words.
“Why now?” RT suddenly asked.
“Why not now?” Z countered.
“I’m your boss.”
“Not out here you’re not,” Z informed him firmly. He wasn’t going to allow RT to play that card. As far as Z was concerned, they weren’t at work.
More silence lingered between them, until finally Z spoke again. “Come here.”
And when RT didn’t hesitate, Z knew his night was about to take a turn back in the right direction.
AT THE GRUFF COMMAND OF Z’s voice, Ryan moved toward him. He didn’t hurry, but he managed to eliminate the distance between them without hesitation or second thought.
Z still stood with his arms spread wide, his broad, bare chest glistening in the moonlight. Ryan’s fingers itched to touch him, to trail over the hard muscle covered by smooth, bronze skin.
When he was within inches, Ryan stopped, looking directly into Z’s dark eyes, waiting.
“You want to touch me,” Z stated.
It wasn’t a question, and the blunt statement threw him for a moment.
“Yeah,” Ryan finally agreed. “I do.” Everywhere.
“What are you waiting for?”
Casting a glance at the house to make sure Clay wasn’t watching from the living room—which he wasn’t—Ryan then placed his hands palms down on Z’s broad chest. A slideshow of memories flashed in his head, all from that night in Coyote Ridge. Z naked. Z with Ryan’s cock in his mouth. Z willing and eager, begging while Ryan impaled him over and over, fucking him hard.
Holy fuck.
The big man hissed in a breath, pulling Ryan from the memories as a flurry of adrenaline pumped through Ryan’s body. For as dominant as Z was being, the man melted beneath Ryan’s touch, which was strangely empowering. Sliding his hands over Z’s wet skin, Ryan didn’t do anything more than memorize the hard planes, the rigid grooves of his abs while he continued to stare back at Z.
Z’s stomach muscles contracted beneath his palms. Ryan was tempted to slide his hands lower, wanting to feel Z’s cock, to know just how hard he was. But he refrained. For now.