Let Me Be The One Part 25

The Hawks were still celebrating their first playoff game win, but even though Ryan's pitching was one of the major reasons everyone was on such a high, the main person he wanted to celebrate with wasn't there. He'd seen guys duck out of parties like this dozens of times over the years to go call their girlfriends and wives.

Now it was his turn.

He dialed Vicki's cell as soon as he walked out of the bar, but she didn't pick up. She'd promised to keep her phone somewhere she could feel it buzzing, even if she was working with her headphones on. Maybe she just needed to wipe the clay off her hands first. He couldn't stop worrying about James trying something with her while he was gone, even though the creep had definitely kept a low profile around Vicki the past few days.

When her voice mail beeped, he said, "I have been thinking about you every single second since we hung up last night."

Mostly, he'd thought about how easy it would be to let her to turn down the Italian residency so that he could keep skating through life. Just as easy as everything else had been for him.

But easy was overrated.

He wanted to earn Vicki's love. Wanted to know that he'd fought hard for her heart-and for her happiness-every single day.

"I'll be waiting in my room for you," he told her, teasing, "It will probably save time if you have your clothes off already when you call me back."

The bar was only a couple of blocks from their hotel and he was just about to walk in the front door when a cab skidded to a stop in front of the building. The door was flung open and every wish he'd ever had came true as Vicki jumped out and into his arms.

She rained kisses over Ryan's cheeks, his chin, his eyelids, until he finally managed to capture her mouth with his. He never wanted to stop kissing her, never wanted to put her down, but the sooner he got her up to his room, the sooner she'd be naked and he'd be making love to her.

Hand in hand they walked inside, but instead of being able to head straight toward the elevators, a group of teenagers circled him asking for autographs.

When he hesitated, Vicki a.s.sured him, "We have all the time in the world."

Without once letting go of her hand, he signed autographs and took pictures with the kids and answered their endless questions until he was finally able to say good-night. When he realized that waiting for the elevator would only bring on a fresh rush of fans, he dragged her off to the empty stairwell beside the elevators.

As soon as the heavy metal door clicked shut, he told her, "I want to go to Italy with you."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered against his lips, "Who needs Italy when we've got a stairwell in St. Louis?"

Of course he had to kiss her. And, of course their kiss quickly morphed into his pressing her against the gray painted wall so that he could get in closer to her.

When she smiled up at him, he realized the shadows that been in her eyes since she'd returned to San Francisco were finally gone.

"You don't know what it means to me that you'd be willing to give up so much for me," she said. "But you don't have to. Not this time, anyway."

"A residency in Italy at a major museum is what you've always wanted. I've had the big prize, many times over. It's been fun, but now it's your turn. Why would you turn down the opportunity of a lifetime?"

"Because I've finally figured out what I want, Ryan. What I've wanted all along." She pressed another kiss to his lips. "You're hard everywhere I'm soft. You love a crowd, when all those people make me want to run in the opposite direction. You're easy and effortless, I'm always twisting myself up trying for something just out of reach. I thought those were all the reasons why we could never work as a couple. But I was wrong, so very wrong." She moved her fingertips over his jaw. "Our differences are exactly why we're so good together."

"Two halves of a whole."

"Exactly." She smiled up at him. "Which is why I want you, Ryan."

"You have me. Forever. And you deserve Italy, too."

"I know I do."

He was transfixed by the look in her eyes that told him she finally understood-and owned-the depths of her own talent.

"All my adult life I've been striving for the big career, for the recognition. My ex fed right into this, both during our marriage, when success always seemed just out of reach, and then after our divorce, when I wanted to win just for the pleasure of spiting him and showing him how wrong he was about me. The call from Italy should have been the greatest moment of my life. But while it felt great to be wanted and respected, I'm finally listening to that little voice inside of me."

She paused and pressed her hand flat to his chest, right over his breastbone. "Every other word that voice says is your name, Ryan. The truth-my truth-is that Italy isn't a step up if it's also a step away from you and the future we're building together."

"But will you be happy taking the San Francisco fellowship when you could have had Italy?"

"Actually, " she informed him with a lift of one eyebrow, "I can pretty much guarantee that I won't be getting that fellowship."

"Screw James and Anthony. Your project is brilliant. The other board members will make sure you get it."

She made a face. "James came to my studio today. He had another charming offer for me."

"That's it!" Ryan exploded. "I'm going to k-"

"You don't need to do anything to him. I already did."

She told him everything, every word, every nuance of her showdown with James. And then she told him about the phone calls she'd made to the other members of the fellowship board to tell them about what James had done, and likely to more women than her.

"Today when I was putting the finishing touches on my project, I remembered something I knew a long, long time ago, but forgot somewhere along the way. From the first moment I picked up that ball of clay in Mr. Barnsworth's art cla.s.s, I loved the way it took shape beneath my fingers. As long as I have that, I'll always be happy, whether I'm making sculptures of poodles out in the garage or trying to sculpt water in some fancy art studio with my name out front in big, bold letters." Her smile was radiant. "Everything I ever wanted, everything I was ever looking for, was there the whole time. It was inside of me." He could feel his heart beating through to her palm as she said, "And you."

"I know you wanted to go slow," Ryan began, but even as he was saying the words, he'd reached around the back of her neck to undo her necklace and was already getting down on one knee.

Not both.

One.

Vicki opened her mouth, but no sound came out, even though his name was right there on her lips.

"I know it's only been a week since you came back to California. I know we've only had two official dates. Well, one, actually, since I mostly just ripped your clothes off and took you in your studio the other night, so it might not count as an actual date. And I also know we're in the middle of a dirty stairwell in a St. Louis hotel right now."

Finally, laughter bubbled from Vicki's lips.

Because even when Ryan was down on one knee, he was still her friend.

Her best friend.

And he still made her laugh...all while making her burn hotter than she'd known her inner thermostat could go.

"I've already lost fifteen years without you. I'm not going to waste another second. You're everything I've been looking for. You're everything I've ever wanted." Ryan looked at their linked hands, her sculpture come to life. "That night we held hands in the water outside my house, I felt the same thing you did, Vicki. That nothing, not even water strong enough to carve cliffs, is as strong as our connection. Nothing is ever going to break us apart. Not jobs or miles or creepy b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. Make me the happiest man alive. Say you'll marry me and wear this ring." His mouth curved up into another beautiful grin that took what was left of her breath away. "Let me be the one for real this time."

One more time, her whole world came down to her hands, to the deliberate way she held out her left ring finger for Ryan, to the cool slide of platinum across the heated surface of skin, and then to the scruff of his jaw against her palms as she held his face and kissed him.

"You've always been the one, Ryan. You always will be."

A heartbeat later, he'd scooped her up into his arms and was practically jogging up the steps.

She was laughing even as she asked, "What floor is your room on?"

"The tenth."

She only laughed harder at the thought of his trying to run ten floors with her in his arms, but she knew better than to try to stop him when he was hands-down the most determined man she'd ever known.

Of course, she wasn't surprised when he made carrying her up ten flights of stairs look so easy. He was barely even winded as he pushed open the door to his room.

What did surprise her, however, was when he put her down on the bed, told her to stay put in that deliciously dominant voice of his, and went back into the front room to make a phone call. Wondering what he was up to, her heart pounding in antic.i.p.ation, a few minutes later she heard a knock on the door and Ryan saying thank you to someone in his low voice.

His gaze was full of wicked intent when he came into the bedroom, his hands held behind his back. "Remember what I wanted to do to you our first night together?"

Even though it had barely been a week since they'd first made love, that night had been such a blur of pleasure and sensation that all she could think to answer was, "Everything?"

She loved the purely carnal sound of his laughter.

"You always have been able to read my mind," he teased her. "Now take your clothes off and I'll show you."

He sat back on the couch against the opposite wall, still hiding whatever was in his hands from her.

Even after making love several times that week, she was amazed to realize there were still so many firsts for them, like stripping down for Ryan. She'd done it over the phone the night before, but never in person. He'd always ripped the clothes off her before she could do a thing to help.

Inherently shy, it was tempting just to quickly shove off the tank top and leggings she'd worn from the studio to the plane and beg him to join her on the bed. But that wouldn't be fair to either of them.

Slowly, she got up off the bed and walked across the room to stand in front of him. With every step, Ryan's gaze heated up more and more. Her nerves gave way to a rush of joy.

He was hers.

And she was his.

Keeping her gaze locked with his, she reached for the hem of her tank top and slid it up over her waist, then her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, one slow inch at a time. By the time she pulled her shirt up over her head, and uncovered black lace, air was whooshing out of Ryan's lungs.

"Gorgeous, Vicki. You're so d.a.m.n gorgeous."

She was smiling by the time she threw her shirt to the side. "Wait," she teased, "there's more."

Her thumbs went into the waistband of her leggings a moment later so that she could slide them down over her hips to reveal the matching lace thong. Just as her leggings fell to the floor and she stepped out of them, he wrapped two big hands around her bared bottom cheeks and pulled her into him so that he could press kisses against her stomach, her hip bones, and then the sheer fabric covering her s.e.x.

Her breath was coming fast now, faster still when he slid two fingers beneath her panties and into her. A heartbeat later, she was lying on the couch and he was lowering his deliciously heavy weight to her so that they could kiss and grind against each other.

Maybe it was because they had first fallen for each other as teenagers, but she loved the way they always got down and dirty on the couch like two h.o.r.n.y kids who couldn't get enough of each other even when a bed was just feet away.

He levered himself up from her just enough to remove her bra and panties, but once she was naked, instead of coming back into her arms, he simply stared.

"I can hardly believe you're mine." His whispered words were filled with awe. Pure, never-ending desire.

And so much love it filled her to overflowing.

"Always," she whispered back. "Forever."

She was reaching to pull him in for more kisses, when her elbow smacked into something hard. And cold. And wet.

"Sorry about that," he said as he lifted her elbow up to press a kiss to it. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." He pulled a champagne bottle out of its hiding place. "Surprise."

She tried to smile back at him, but it was hard to pull it off when all she could think about was what he was planning on doing with the champagne. She watched with heady antic.i.p.ation as his deft fingers worked the cork. It popped open and champagne sprayed all over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, making her laugh in surprise as the cold, fizzing droplets covered her.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

A flash of his wicked grin was the only answer she got before he lowered his mouth to her sensitive flesh and licked off every last drop. When he found a particularly sensitive spot, and then another, she threaded her hands into his hair to hold him against her.

Finally, he lifted his head to stare down at her with his dark, intense eyes.

"I think we're ready to start now."

He hadn't even started yet?

Oh G.o.d...she was never going to make it out of this hotel room in one piece.

And that was just fine by her.

Ryan wanted to savor every single second with Vicki. It meant everything to him that she trusted him to love her the way she deserved to be loved.

Gently, he ran one finger down between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to her belly b.u.t.ton. "Do you know what they call this part of a woman?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide and filled with heat.

"The champagne line."

A soft whimper left her pretty lips and he had to press a kiss to them. She licked the bubbly from his tongue and he was tempted just to take her right then and there and forget about the full bottle of champagne. But he'd have a lifetime to take her hard and fast.

Tonight, he wanted to cherish. To treasure.

To love.

He lifted her arms above her head one at a time and curled her fingers around the arm of the couch. Her back arched just enough to make the slight indentation on her torso slightly more p.r.o.nounced.

He stared down at her, the woman he'd waited half a lifetime to finally make his own.

"Perfect."

With a quick lick over the tip of each breast, he finally tilted the bottle over her. Champagne pooled between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s for a split second before beginning the slow, sweet slide down toward her belly b.u.t.ton.

His groan sounded in the room a beat before he leaned down to lick his way up over the sweet, fizzly liquid, from her waist to her breastbone. One by one, Vicki's fingers slipped from the couch until her hands were in his hair again and she was arching into his mouth.

A moment later, Ryan lifted her up off the couch. He'd given slow his best shot.

But he was known for speed, after all.