Dark Pleasures Read online

  Then I opened it and knew that no amount of time would've prepared me.

  The plain box was lined with black velvet and what laid on the velvet was the most exquisite set of matching earrings and a necklace. This wasn't some simple gold chain or some kind of flashy diamond thing. The necklace was silver, delicately crafted. At the center was a sapphire. Not too small to be lost, but not so large as to be garish. The earrings were done similarly, except instead of one stone, there were three very small ones in each web of silver.

  I stared at them, unable to believe what I was seeing. There had to be some mistake. One or the other would've been more than enough. I couldn't accept this.

  “If you don't like them, I can take them back.” Rylan's voice was soft.

  My heart twisted as I heard him try to hide what he was feeling. I looked up at him, balancing the box on my knees as I reached for his hands. He didn't look at me.

  “Rylan, they're beautiful.”

  He still wouldn't raise his eyes. I reached out and cupped his chin, a gesture he'd used on me before.

  “Look at me,” I said softly. He did as I said. “I love them.”

  “You don't have to say that,” he said.

  “I'm not.” It was a strange feeling for me, being the one trying to reassure him like this. “I think they're the most...they're perfect. Too perfect.”

  He frowned at me.

  “They're too much.” I shook my head.

  “No.” He spoke in that firm voice that I knew not to argue with. “It's not too much.”

  “We've only been dating a short while,” I tried to argue anyway. My fingers were trembling as I lightly touched the jewelry. How could I explain to him how inadequate I felt? How unworthy of a gift like this.

  “Do you like them?” he asked.

  I nodded, not wanting him to doubt himself again.

  “Do you love me?”

  The question caught me off guard. “Yes.”

  “Then accept them.”

  Dammit.

  “I want you to understand something,” he said, covering my hands with his this time. “I didn't buy these because they were expensive and I thought that's what you would want or because I felt like I had to spend a lot of money.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him that I didn't think that about him, but snapped my jaw shut when he gave me a sharp look. Not a mean one, but rather one that said he wasn't done yet.

  “Black Friday, Suzette always drags me out shopping with her,” he said. “This year, Suzette met up with a couple of friends halfway through the day and let me off the hook. I walked past a store window, and there they were. The moment I saw them, I knew I had to get them for you.”

  He raised a hand and wrapped my hair around his finger before brushing his thumb across my cheek.

  “I couldn't imagine anyone else wearing them.”

  I wrapped my hand around his. “I didn't mean to be ungrateful.” I pulled his hand around to kiss it. “I've just never had anyone give me a gift before, a gift of any kind, much less something like this. It's a lot to take in.”

  “I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” he said. He pulled my hand to him and kissed it.

  I shook my head. “This wasn't you at all.” I released his hand and looked down at the still open box. “In my wildest dreams, I never could've imagined something like this. Something so special.”

  “You're special,” he said, leaning over to brush his lips across mine.

  It wasn't much of a kiss in the way of delivery, but it still sent warmth straight through me. He rested his forehead against mine for a moment before breaking the silence.

  “Is it my turn now?”

  There was an almost little boy quality to his question that made me smile. I sat back. His eyes were shining with anticipation. My chest tightened and my expression froze. It was silly, my idea. Why in the world had I thought this was a good idea? I should've gone with the expensive tie or found some store that sold cufflinks. A watch maybe or something like that.

  This time, I didn't need to explain anything to him. Rylan knew what the problem was.

  “I'll love it,” he said. “I don't care how much it cost or anything like that. All that matters is that you thought of me.” He grinned, a real, sweet grin that made my stomach clench. “You could have made me a macaroni necklace or ceramic ashtray.” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn't make me a macaroni necklace did you?”

  The humor broke the mood and I laughed. “No, I didn't do any of those things.” I flushed as I stood. “I didn't exactly...buy you anything.” I picked up the envelope I'd slipped under the tree last night. As I turned around, I caught a flash of sadness in his eyes and realized what it had sounded like. Instead of getting serious again, I decided to go with a different way. “I didn't say I didn't get you anything.” I kept my tone teasing. I held out the envelope and his face lit up.

  I walked over to him to hand it over, but I didn't sit down. The butterflies in my stomach wouldn't like that very much.

  He looked at the envelope and then up at me. “No hints?”

  I shook my head. I didn't trust myself to speak. My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest.

  “Okay then.” He opened the envelope almost as carefully as I'd opened the box.

  I clasped my hands behind my back. I didn't know what I was going to do if he didn't like it. Or if he didn't understand it.

  He pulled out the single sheet of paper and unfolded it. I watched as his expression went from confusion to shock. His eyes widened and he looked up at me.

  “Is this...” He couldn't seem to find the words. “Love, is this...?”

  “My name,” I said softly. I looked down. “I couldn't think of what to give you. I mean, you have all this money and friends and family and I'm just me. I didn't know what to get you. What you could possibly want–”

  “You.”

  My head came up in time to see him get up off of the couch. His eyes were blazing in that way that made my mouth go dry.

  “You're all I want.” He took my face between his hands as his mouth came down on mine.

  It burned straight through me, all heat and desire, stronger than anything I'd felt before. His hands slid down my neck and then down my back. He crushed me against him and I felt him harden against my stomach. As his tongue curled around mine, his hands moved even lower, cupping my ass.

  Fuck.

  My fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck. I never wanted to stop kissing him. I loved the feel of him, the taste of him. Fuck that. I loved him. Everything about him. I loved him so much it hurt.

  And I knew this couldn't go any further right now.

  Every cell in my body screamed in protest as I broke the kiss.

  “I'm going to guess that means you liked my gift?” I tried to keep it light, but his hands flexed on my ass and things low inside me tightened.

  “The fact that you trusted me...” His eyes closed and I could see the emotion working over his face. “I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me.” His eyes opened and they were a deep, rich purple. “But I would love to spend the rest of the day showing you.”

  I shivered. That was so fucking tempting. “There is nothing I would like more than to take you up on that.” I sighed and took a step back. “But you have to go see your family.”

  He scowled and I caught a glimpse of what he must've looked like when he was a child told to do something he didn't want to do. “I don't have to go.”

  “Yes,” I said firmly. “You do.”

  He grinned at me and started to reach for me, a gleam in his eyes. “I could just tell them that I'm not feeling well.”

  I raised an eyebrow, but didn't step away when his hands came to rest on my hips. “And then what?”

  “I don't understand.” He looked puzzled.

  “Your sister...” I used the same words he'd used before. “Isn't fond of me. I'm sure she hasn't exactly been quiet about her feelings. I d
on't want to give your family another reason to hate me.”

  “They won’t to hate you.” He tucked some hair behind my ear. “Because I love you, and they will too.”

  I didn't argue with him. “I love you, too.” I put my hand over his. “But you need to go.”

  He stuck out his bottom lip in the most adorable pout I'd ever seen.

  “You're trying my self-control,” I said with another sigh. “If you don't go now, I won’t be able to say 'no' and we'll spend all day in bed.”

  “You say that like it's a bad thing,” he countered.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “All right, all right,” he said. “I'll go. But I won't like it.”

  I pressed my body against his and put my lips against his ear. “Then I guess I'll just have to have something you will like when you get back.”

  He groaned. “Dammit, Jenna. I’ll have to spend the entire drive to my parent’s house trying to get rid of my hard-on.”

  I laughed, but couldn't really feel too badly. I liked that his body responded to me that way, and I knew it wasn't just physical. He wanted me, but more than that, he loved me.

  I could hardly wait for him to come back and us to continue to spend an amazing Christmas together.

  Chapter 10

  Rylan went to his room to shower while I took the bathroom in the guest room where I'd stayed before. I knew it was the best thing for us to shower separately since there was no way, once we were both naked, that we could keep our hands off each other, but it didn't mean I didn't spend every moment of my shower thinking about Rylan across the hall, wet and glistening. I could picture it clearly in my mind's eye, the way the water would roll down his sculpted chest, sliding across those perfect abs and even lower.

  I purposefully lingered in the shower, taking the time to let the hot water ease away any knots I had from sleeping on the floor. I wanted to give Rylan the chance to leave before I was done because if I saw him again, I couldn't say I'd have the strength to tell him he had to go. Just the thought of him with hair still damp from his shower, the clean smell of soap combined with the scent of him...my stomach tightened.

  Before meeting Rylan, sex had just been another itch to scratch, a biological need that came on me. I would satisfy it and then move on, putting it out of my mind until the next time. I'd never actually thought about sex much, not like I did with Rylan. It was like every cell in my body was hyperaware of every cell in his. It didn't matter if he was twenty feet or twenty millimeters away from me. I felt him, craved him. And it wasn't purely physical either. It was what it meant. Both of us had had our fair share of sexual partners who didn't mean anything more than fleeting satisfaction, but it wasn't like that between us. There was this whole other emotional connection I never realized existed until him.

  I sighed as I rinsed the last of the conditioner from my hair and climbed out of the shower. He said he would only be a couple hours, but I wasn't sure what that would actually translate to. I needed to have a plan of what I would do while he was gone. I'd been in his house before, but never alone. I hadn't considered that it might be awkward.

  I'd brought some comfortable clothes, so once I'd put those on, I headed back downstairs to the living room. We'd left things a bit of a mess from the night before, so I went to work tidying things up. I doubted Rylan would've cared very much if I'd left it, but I had far too much nervous energy to sit down and do nothing.

  I put his gift into his stocking and carefully folded the wrapping paper. I wasn't usually a sentimental person, but I definitely wanted to keep everything from today. These were memories I'd want to cherish, no matter what the future held. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to put my gift back under the tree, but most of the other gifts were gone now that Rylan had taken them and I felt weird putting the box next to a couple of other boxes. One had Zeke's name on it, the other was for Rylan's mom. I supposed that meant he wouldn't be visiting her today. I never asked how he split his time between his parents. I figured it wasn't any of my business. I just hoped I wasn't taking away from the time he normally spent with her.

  In the end, I left the box where I'd set it on the coffee table. Maybe, I thought with a grin, he'd want me to wear them tonight. I was already planning on surprising him with one of the pieces of sexy lingerie that I'd bought.

  I cleaned up the food next, carrying it all to the kitchen and boxing things up in whatever I could find. I made stacks on the counter, unsure where he'd want things, and then went back to the living room to wipe down the table. I folded up the sleeping bags and set them off to one side, assuming he'd want them washed, but not knowing where to put them. Once all of that was done, only an hour had passed and I'd run out of things to do.

  I walked over to the tree. I noticed the ornaments last night, of course, but I hadn't really taken the time to examine any of them very closely. Some had been parts of sets, but were odd numbers like seven or eleven, making me think that, over the years, the other ones had been broken or lost. There were two hand-painted snowmen, one looking fairly traditional, the other with a Hawaiian lei around its neck. I touched them both carefully, turning them so that I could see Rylan's name and a year written on each. I did the math. He would've been eight for one, thirteen for the other. I wondered if his family had a tradition of making Christmas ornaments every year.

  As I made my way around the tree, I saw some that had been made with clumsy kid hands. Decorated glass bulbs with glitter all over them. A yarn figure I thought might be a reindeer. Bits of beads and wire strung together into what looked like a star. Then there were specialty ones. A handful of ones for “World's Best Boss” and more than one for “World's Best Brother.” There was a flat gold one with his name etched in it along with the year he'd been born.

  I'd made it almost entirely around the tree when another one caught my eye. It was in the center of the tree, angled so that it would be most visible from the armchair next to the fire. The place, I realized, where Rylan would most likely sit when he came in here by himself. It was a simple ornament, elegant. A silver heart with small blue jewels I hoped weren't real sapphires lining the edge. It seemed far too expensive to have real gems in a Christmas ornament. In the center, in fancy script, were the words “First Christmas,” the year and the letters R and J. It matched my necklace and earrings so perfectly that I had no doubt they'd been purchased the same place. I felt tears prick at my eyes as I reached out and touched it.

  I had a Christmas ornament. Technically it was his, but it was about me, and that was enough. I'd never had an ornament of my own. The few group homes that had tried to do the whole tree thing always had the same boxes of ornaments for every group of kids, so there was never any sense of them belonging to us, even if we were the ones who'd hung them up.

  I took a shaky breath and rubbed my hands across my face. I hadn't been prepared for how sentimental the holiday would make me. I turned away from the tree and began to look around the room. I'd never had the chance to take in all of the details or explore the house. I would do that now, I decided. I didn't just want to see the furnishings and the way the place had been decorated. I wanted to spot the personal touches. Rylan knew so many intimate details of my history and, while I knew the basics about him, most were the kinds of things I'd read during my research into Archer Enterprises. He'd shared a bit about his family, but there was so much more I didn't know.

  The first thing I noticed that I hadn't before, were the pictures on the mantel above the fireplace. I'd registered the frames, but never really took the time to look at the contents. Rylan was easy to spot in most of them. His hair was the same color, though the length of it changed, and he'd gone from thin to muscled, but the smile would've told me who he was if nothing else had. That was the smile that he didn't use on his employees or clients. It was a genuine one, the kind that reached all the way to his eyes.

  In one of the pictures, he couldn't have been more than five or so, standing between two adults who were obviously his parent
s. He'd inherited traits from both of them, not looking more like one than the other. Another picture had his father with a different brunette and a baby. Suzette and her mother, I assumed. The smile in that one looked forced, as did the one with him and his mom from what looked like around the same time.

  There were two more of him with Suzette at their respective graduations and one of him and Zeke at his graduation. Rylan looked so happy with both of them, his arm around their shoulder, face beaming. I turned away. I really hoped they'd come around soon. Rylan cared about them both so much and I hated feeling like I was pulling them apart.

  I wandered through the rest of the house, stopping to look at decorations, books, pictures, anything I could find that spoke of a personal touch. Most of the pictures were of Suzette and Zeke, though I did recognize Lara in a couple, as well as a few other people I didn't know. Family members or friends, I wasn't sure.

  I found a library on the first floor, tucked into a back corner and overflowing with books. Some were leather-bound first editions that looked like they hadn't been touched. Others were dog-eared and obviously much-read. Mostly thrillers, but there were a couple science fiction and fantasy ones I recognized as well. The artwork here was the same as in the rest of the house. Not insanely famous artists, but ones I was sure I could do an internet search on and get more than a few results. I didn't know much about art other than what kinds of things I liked. All of the paintings in Rylan's house I liked. Landscapes and abstracts with swirls of color. None had people in them and only a few had animals.

  It was interesting, I thought, how there were so many things I didn't know about him and I cared so deeply for him anyway. Some people would've written it off as solely physical attraction or something brought on by the trauma I'd recently gone through. None of that was true though. I might have a lot to learn about Rylan, but what I felt for him wasn't because of his history or the stories he could tell about his life and work. It was because of who he was. His story had shaped him, of course, but I didn't need all of the answers to know the kind of man he was.