No Reservations (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 28

"Of course." I roll my eyes as I close the door and lean against it. I fear Martin could hold masterclasses in gaslighting, and so I wouldn't have expected him to go down without a fight.

"I said he could stay tonight but I never want him to come near this hotel again." He seems calm but a bit tense. I know he's not really a fan of confrontation, so it's probably unnerved him.

"But are you not worried he might leave you negative reviews everywhere?" I can't help but protest. He shakes his head firmly.

"Fuck that. I honestly couldn't care less at this point." He steps right into me then, tangling his hands into my hair, his eyes blazing, his voice suddenly rough. "His lies cost me you. A bad review is never going to feel anywhere near as bad as losing you did."

Okay, that's fucking hot.

And with that, he bends down and his lips burn against my own, hot and sweet as he breathes a kiss into my mouth. He pauses for a moment, sliding a hand from my hair down to my cheek, as if savouring it.

Gentle. Cute. Almost innocent.

Then all hell breaks loose as he pushes me against the door and kisses me like he's drowning and I'm his last chance lifeline. It seems any element of control he had has finally snapped, and he can't hold back anymore.

And, oops, my new pornographic moan has just made another guest appearance.

He laughs, pulls back. Runs his hands down my body until he catches my waist then tugs me to him, resting his forehead against mine. "I'm going to have to apologise in advance for what is probably going to happen," he rasps out.

"What do you mean?" I whisper. He's backing towards the bed now and taking me with him.

"I've wanted this for a long time. A really long time." He lightly swipes his tongue along the seam of my lips. "And I'm not sure I'm going to be able to hold back."

My breath catches completely and I swallow hard, trying to recover myself. "Good," I reply. "Because I don't want you to."

With a shaky sigh, he sits down on the bed and reaches for my dressing gown tie, before he looks up at me as if asking for permission. Like I'm a birthday present and he isn't sure if he's allowed to unwrap me yet.

"Do it," I exhale, and he's catching the knot and pulling on it practically before I get the words out. My gown falls open to reveal the slip dress underneath.

Happy birthday, Ryan!

"Fuck." He scrubs at his face as he looks at me, eyes hooded, pupils dilated. "And here I thought you'd be wearing pyjamas with mice eating different types of cheese, or something equally ridiculous."

I can't help but giggle at that, confidence growing due to the heat in his gaze. "I thought I should dress a bit more suitably for the occasion," I manage to say. I quite like the fact he's obviously noticed my crazy pyjama collection. Although I prefer how he's noticing me now, to be perfectly honest. The hunger on his face is unmistakable.

"To be perfectly honest, you could be wearing a onesie and I'd still be into this." He admits. "But I'd still be wanting to get you out of it," he adds, as he pulls at the hem of my dress and urges me to pull it over my head.

"Fuck." He says again, gulping, as his eyes rove over my body. They snag on my breasts and he hisses in air sharply.

I should feel exposed and vulnerable, dressed only in my underwear while he sits there, fully dressed, watching me. But he's looking like me like I'm a goddess and, oh my god, I actually feel like one for a fucking change.

No one has ever looked at me like this before.

"Iona?" Ryan says ruefully, his face pained, reaching out for me again. "I think there's a good chance you're going to kill me tonight."

In one swift move he's got me on my back on the bed, his gorgeous face inches from mine again, breathing me in. His eyes have darkened further. In that moment, I think there's a strong chance he's going to kill me right back.

And I'm going to die a happy girl . . .

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