Sway With Me(29)

“I’d never let that happen to you.”

She reached out and patted his thigh. “That’s sweet of you to say. We’ll see what happens. For now we’re roomies. Marriage and children aren’t on either of our agendas. But sex? That’s an altogether different story.” She shot him a sly smile and opened her car door to greet an approaching Braden.





Chapter 9



Therefore the poet

Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods

Since naught so stockish, hard, and full of rage,

But music for the time doth change his nature.



William Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, Act 5 scene 1

After picking up the Lexus, which she noted still had that new car smell, Portia followed Ryan back to the house. Carrying six bags of their home repair items up to the front door, she made a mental list of what to tackle first in the kitchen. Thinking back to those moldy dishes, she knew she had to quickly air out that kitchen or she’d die of oxygen deprivation since she’d be holding her breath. Ryan pushed the door open and caught it before it fell inside the foyer again. He grinned, appearing proud of himself for getting the upper hand on the darned thing.

What was she thinking, telling him sex was on her agenda? Why didn’t she just come out and ask him if he’d spend the next three months having a hot steamy affair?

Unfortunately for her, she spent the entire car ride home trying to tamp down the arousal flowing through her like a river every time he opened his mouth. Of course, she felt like an idiot every time she opened hers. She was mortified that he thought she’d propositioned him for sex as a way to pay him for the house. When he pointed out she’d been caressing his arm as she mentioned they’d find an arrangement to satisfy them both, she’d wanted to jump out of the car, the fact it was in motion be damned.



It was a good thing they planned to work on different parts of the house, because if she spent hours in his company, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from touching him. Even in the car she practically had to sit on her hands to keep from exploring the hard planes of his chest and the muscles of his thighs. And based on what she’d seen so far, she’d likely enjoy every moment of her exploration.



“The power is on,” he pointed out as she dropped her bags by the staircase once they got inside.

She peered up at the crystal chandelier, noting it was covered in cobwebs and sighed. “Time to get to work.” She peered back at him. “Oh, and make sure you order a bed.” She didn’t know how long she’d survive sleeping next to him.



He pulled his cell phone from his jeans pocket and waved it at her. “The power of the Internet. I’ll have it overnighted.”

She crouched down to the bags and searched through them for the right cleaning supplies. “You should clear out one of the bedrooms upstairs so we have a spot to put it.”

He tipped his head and ran a hand over the scruff growing on his chin. Guess he hadn’t shaved today. All the men—okay, boys—she’d dated had skin softer and clearer than hers. For some reason, she preferred Ryan’s stubble to his clean cut look. It made him seem darker. More mysterious. More . . . dangerous. He was all man. A shiver ran through her as she imagined him rubbing his chin between her thighs, leaving his mark on her skin. Branding her as his. From that daydream alone, her panties grew so wet, they were practically useless. And all he did was rub his chin.

“Don’t you think?” she heard him ask.

She looked up at a grinning Ryan and realized she’d missed whatever he’d said, lost in her fantasy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was, uh, thinking about what I need to use to clean the sink.”



He kneeled down beside her and reached into the same bag she’d unsuccessfully rummaged through, brushing her palm in the process. She sucked in a breath as the touch sent an electric buzz straight to her core. At this rate, she may as well forgo wearing panties around him.

He held up a container of bleach. “I think you should start with this. But, what I said was that while I will attack a bedroom at some point before the bed arrives, I’m going to begin with patching up the leaks. No point in bringing in new furniture if it’s going to get ruined.”

She hopped to her feet and grabbed the bleach from his hold. Although she’d heard each word this time, her mind paid close attention to the words “attack” and “bed.” What she needed was a cold shower and some space, but in lieu of the shower, she’d have to settle for doing the dishes.

“Sure. Right. I’m going to go get wet—I mean—do the dishes.” With none of the grace of a dancer, she stumbled out of the foyer and staggered down the hall to the kitchen before he caught another glimpse of her blushing face.