Ryan (Mallick Brothers 2)

"Oh my God," I groaned, leaning my head into his arm and he let out a little chuckle.

"And if I'm not mistaken," he said, releasing my hand to go over into the closet. "Yep. They have those bomb things you like," he told me, bringing out a crazy bright patterned box that I knew on sight must have been Lush. "Use them all if you want," he added, handing it to me and going back to find a towel and a robe.

So, okay, I could maybe get used to hiding out in a penthouse suite at a swanky hotel.

The things you learn about yourself while on the run from drug dealers.

I snorted out loud at my own line of thought, making Ryan's lips tip up as he watched me. "What?"

"Nothing. This whole thing is just... crazy," I admitted.

"It's a little... out of the ordinary. I'll give you that. Take your bath. Come back out when you're feeling like yourself again," he told me, giving me a smile, then walking out and closing the door.

Alone, I wasted very little time getting the water running and the bombs dissolving and my clothes off.

Faintly, I could hear Ryan and Mark talking, just muffled masculine rumbles that carried across the space toward me in the silent bathroom.

It was about then that I realized I was alright. I was in a new place and nothing was familiar and it wasn't my style and very few of my comfort items were there, but I was okay. I wasn't losing my mind.

And that was huge.

So much had changed in just... days.

It felt like so much longer, but it was just days.

I had been trapped for years. Freaking years of my life unable to move, stuck in the same place literally and metaphorically.

But the strangest thing was, it wasn't that foreign to be out. Maybe because the majority of my life was spent traveling, moving around, seeing and experiencing new things. It wasn't like it was culture shock. I wasn't some poor soul who was like raised in a basement and never saw the real world. It had just been a while. But it wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. I wasn't completely calm, but because it was a big space with all the comforts of home and it wasn't full of a bunch of people, I was actually pretty close to comfortable all things being said.

Progress.

I stayed in the bath for who knew how long because bathrooms seemed universally to be rooms without clocks even though it was where most people rushed to get ready for work on a timed schedule, then toweled off and slid into the fluffy, soft bathrobe and walked over to look at myself.

There was still swelling, though my lip had completely gone down. It was mostly around my eye that was still an ugly shade of purple. But the eyelid was mostly open and you could once again see that I did, in fact, have two green eyes. The swelling was more to the outside of the eye in an arch that went from my eyebrow to the top of my cheekbone. The scratches were still red, but healed over for the most part.

Not awful.

Not great, but not awful.

I pulled the drawers of the vanity open and found a sealed toothbrush along with paste and set to brushing before finally moving out into the bedroom.

Where I froze.

The reason for that?

Yeah, that'd be because Ryan was there.

Not only was he there, he was shirtless.

He was sitting off the side of the bed with bare feet but his slacks still on. He was slightly curled forward, his elbows on his knees, looking down.

I must have gasped or something because his head shot up suddenly and pinned me in place, the heat in them intense. It was then, too, that I realized three other things. One, he had a tattoo. It was on the left side of his chest over his heart- a big, bold piece that looked like it might have been his family's coat of arms. Two, well, the man had a good body. It was something I had imagined, but hadn't really gotten a chance to look him over. His chest was wide, shoulders strong, his abdomen, even sitting, you could make out the firm line of muscles. And the small dark trail that led and disappeared into the waistband of his pants. Oh, and three, yeah, his button and zip were undone.

Of course, my focus seemed to go and stay there.

For long enough that when my gaze drifted upward again, his smile was a bit wicked, his eyes even hotter.

"Come here, honey," he said, his voice a sexy rumble as he raised his arm and held it out, wanting me to walk to him.

I knew then exactly what was going to happen.