Ryan (Mallick Brothers 2)

"I don't think I have ever thanked you for always being there for me," I told him, my voice low. I knew I would probably tell Ryan about it at some point, but the moment right then was for me and my uncle.

"You got nothing to thank me for, kid."

"I don't just mean when I was little, though there is that too. I mean the past few years. I know it wasn't easy for you to watch me struggle. And you and Bry... you were the only ones who stuck by me. I really appreciated it more than I ever told you."

"Stop," he said, always the type to be uncomfortable with overtly emotional displays. Maybe that was something I had picked up from him. "That's family," he added, shrugging it off. "Now, up," he demanded, patting me, obviously having had enough affection to last the day or month or year.

We talked for a couple more minutes, finished our beers, then said our goodbyes. It was late and my uncle had to be up at the crack of dawn.

"He likes you," I told Ryan as we got in the car and pulled away.

"We barely talked, honey," he said, shaking his head.

"I know. But he's not all that talkative anyway. Besides, you are who got me out of my apartment."

"Because of a gas leak and an assault and then a kidnapping," he said, looking over for a second with a wry smile.

"Yes well, he doesn't know that, does he?" I added with my own smirk as we pulled up into the lot of the hotel.

Ryan parked and came around the car to me. There was a brief, nauseating stab of discomfort as we walked past the spot where I had been taken. As if sensing it, his hand reached for mine and squeezed it tight. He didn't let go until we were safely behind the penthouse door.

"Bath?" he asked, already knowing my rhythms.

"God, yes," I admitted, wanting to wash a day full of fear and worry and other mens' hands off of me.

"Company?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "Can't promise I will keep my hands to myself," he added, eyes going a little heated.

"Can't promise I won't enjoy that," I added, smiling.

I'd never bathed with a man before. Showered, sure. But usually it was a rushed 'we are both late and need to get to work and stop hogging all the freaking hot water' unsexy kind of thing. I had never been much for baths in my old life. I had too much going on, not enough time to laze about in a tub. Plus, my tub sucked.

I had a feeling though as I moved in and filled the tub, dropping bombs in and watching as flower petals drifted out across the water, smiling a little wistfully, that I would really enjoy it.

"Might be a bit awkward if I'm the only one fucking naked in the tub," Ryan announced, snapping my attention back to the side where I found him standing there in just his black boxer briefs, brow raised at me.

"Oh, right," I said, shaking my head at myself. A completely ridiculous little surge of anxiety bubbled up in my belly as I reached for the hem of my shirt. This was a man who had seen me naked. Several times. He had touched and kissed and licked almost every part of me. It was silly to feel insecure.

But, the anxiety reminded me, always happy to play devil's advocate, it's different when it's in the heat of the moment and clothes are flying and hormones are raging and all you can think about is getting to an orgasm. This was completely different.

"How about I do it?" Ryan asked, brushing my hands away, grabbing the shirt, and hauling it off me. There was barely even a pause before his fingers found my button and zip and he was yanking the material down my legs.

There was a pause then, his fingers traced gently up my hip, my ribs, around my back. His fingers worked my clasps on my bra and pulled the material free. Almost simultaneously, my hands reached for his boxer briefs and his hands reached for my panties and we were both naked.

He didn't pause; he turned from me and climbed in the tub, reaching up for me and pulling me in as well.

"Could get used to this," he admitted, pulling me back against his chest, his legs up on the outsides of mine, his arms crossing over my chest and belly, his lips pressing gently into my temple.

And I couldn't have agreed more.

I could get used to it.

"Talk to me," he demanded softly, his hand starting to graze gently over my belly. It wasn't sexual, but it had the same impact as though it was regardless. My body couldn't be touched by his without it getting the signals crossed.