Chapter Thirteen #2
The words make sense, considering what I am learning about him.
Ryan doesn’t strike me as someone who engages in conflicts without purpose.
He seems like a man who understands which battles are worth fighting and which are best left alone.
And here he is, despite my initial reluctance, still pursuing me.
“Do you think I am a necessary battle, Ryan?” I ask, my voice steady and direct.
His eyes narrow slightly as he considers my question. The silence stretches between us before he responds with calm intensity.
“Yes.”
A thrill courses through me at his words. It’s oddly flattering that, through his pragmatic lens, he considers a union with me necessary.
We spend the next several hours engaged in conversation, the wine working its magic to ease our nerves and loosen our tongues.
Ryan shares stories from his travels beyond the city, each tale rich with experience and insight.
I contribute with my own stories, the more sentimental recollections from my childhood.
We discuss our tastes in food and music, and I find myself genuinely enjoying the exchange.
I’m glad I came on this date. Ryan has a relaxed quality that I could easily grow accustomed to.
I also come to appreciate his choice of venue for our first date. There’s no pretense here. He has been forthright about his intentions and the practical nature of our potential union, and I value that honesty. I like knowing I can trust him to be direct and sincere, regardless of his motives.
“So, is there anything you do to escape all this?” I ask, gesturing vaguely to encompass his office.
He pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
“Running,” he replies with a smile.
A smile tugs at my lips. “I like running, too.”
His eyes light up at the shared interest, a spark of excitement flickering within them.
“I don’t do it as often as I used to because of work,” he says, his tone almost animated. “But from time to time, I let my Wolf loose and just run.”
“I don’t do it as often either,” I confess, a note of solemnity in my voice. “But that’s because of the press. They’re still hounding me after everything that’s happened.”
I notice his eyebrow raise slightly as he leans in. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you won’t have to worry about them much longer.”
His words are reassuring, and a wave of safety washes over me.
“Perhaps we should run sometime,” he suggests, his voice calm and composed.
“Perhaps we should,” I agree. “This has been nice, but I think I should head home now.”
“Of course,” Ryan responds, rising from his seat and approaching me. I set down my half-empty glass of wine and stand up as well.
As we make our way toward the large door of his office, my thoughts drift back to my longing for something beyond a pragmatic union.
I’ve enjoyed our conversation, but tonight’s atmosphere has moved between formality and a nascent friendship.
My steps slow as these thoughts swirl in my mind.
Ryan notices my hesitation, halting and turning to face me with an earnest, inquisitive look.
Before he can speak, I voice my concern.
“I was just wondering; do we have any chemistry? At all?” I ask, meeting his gaze directly.
His response is a soft chuckle, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Then, his expression shifts to one of seductive seriousness.
He steps closer, his demeanor subtly changing as he reaches behind me, his right arm clasping my waist. His left hand gently caresses my cheek, brushing aside my hair to better view my face.
He draws me nearer, and I feel the rough strength of his body pressing against mine, causing my heart to race.
His lips meet mine in a delicate kiss, and he pulls away briefly, studying my reaction.
I bite my lower lip, the warmth of his body igniting a pang of heat within me.
He leans in again, this time kissing me more forcefully, his touch asserting a depth of emotion.
I lose myself to the hunger he ignites within me, the desire he stirs taking over completely. I kiss him back with equal fervor, my hands gripping his back with urgency. He matches my intensity, pulling me closer and grabbing my ass with a possessive touch.
I push my tongue deep into his mouth, exploring him and inviting him to explore me in return. His hand trails along my spine before delivering a teasing spank to my rear.
Our breathing quickens, growing ragged and loud. Our movements become rough, almost aggressive. I recall how his pheromones had subdued me during our first meeting, a sensation I yearn to experience again. I nearly beg for it, but not yet. Not now.
Ryan eventually pulls away, his eyes fixed on me with a smug smile.
“I think we have plenty of chemistry, Leila,” he says.
I smile back, my thoughts buzzing with the unexplored potential between us. The possibilities of what we could do to each other stir a thrilling excitement within me.
“Our next date won’t be in this office,” he continues, taking my hand and guiding me toward the door. “Next time, it will be a proper date.”
We step outside and descend in the elevator, Luke following closely behind. At the parking lot, I pause and glance back at Ryan, who stands at the building’s entrance. A smile graces my lips. This date had turned out better than expected, and now he has given me much to ponder.
As I approach my car, a sudden shriek pierces the air.
“Leila Kaye!”
“Leila!!”
I turn around. Oh no! Not again!
I see a whole throng of members of the press, their cameras flashing as they close in on me, bombarding me with the same old questions. Questions I’m exhausted by.
I attempt to make my way to the car, but I’m quickly enveloped by the crowd. I peer through the sea of bodies, spotting Luke moving briskly toward us, evidently working to defuse the situation.
The cacophony of voices becomes a harsh din in my sensitive ears. Just as the noise reaches its peak, a calm yet authoritative voice cuts through the chaos.
“Need I remind you on whose property you stand?”
The crowd parts almost instantly, bodies shifting aside as they create a clear path. I look up to see Ryan standing firm, arms crossed behind his back, his expression stern and commanding as he faces the cluster of reporters.
“Now,” Ryan says, his gaze locked on the reporters still lingering nearby, “unless you want me to give you something truly newsworthy, I suggest you all leave.”
The reporters shift uneasily, their murmurs revealing their uncertainty. They glance at each other, hesitating.
“Now!” Ryan’s voice cuts through the commotion with a calm, almost sinister authority. The reporters, sensing the gravity of his tone, quickly retreat, their footsteps echoing as they disperse.
Ryan turns to me, offering a nod of apology for the brief disturbance. A guard approaches him, and as I head toward my car, I hear Ryan’s quiet inquiry about how the reporters managed to gain access.
The drive home is a blur of thoughts. Ryan’s command, his power, and his influence are undeniable. There is no question that a union between us will be beneficial to both of us. Yet, more significantly, I find myself beginning to like him. The prospect of being with him no longer seems so daunting.