High heels click-clacked against the floor as Claire left the bathroom, hoping to end this night in one piece. However,  things didn't go according to plan; Ryan was waiting for her right outside the hallway. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Claire blurted.

"We should talk. Come with me." Ryan held her arm, hauling her away in a rush. 

"No!" Claire snapped.  "You're crazy if you think I'll go with you!"  

"For you? The fuck I am," Ryan retorted. "Don't make a scene, Claire. Please." He was leading her toward the elevator.

"You're the one who's looking for a scene, Ryan! And trust me, I can give you a big one!"

Ryan smirked. "By all means. Be my guest." 

"Fuck you. Let me go!" Irritated, Claire tried to pull herself out, but his grip tightened around her wrist and a pompous smile grew profusely on his face. "Ryan!" She glowered at him, but deep down she knew it was a futile protest. 

Half of her wanted to be wherever Ryan wanted her to be with him. But the rest of her… Well, she knew it was an inappropriate thing to do. 

A group of people exited the elevator,  and Ryan dragged Claire with him right away. 

Once they were inside, enclosed and alone, Claire edged away from him. "You are such a brute! A psycho! You give me chills being here with you, Ryan Stevens!" she spat.

"Do I, now?" A stunned eyebrow shot up on Ryan's face as he punched the destination floor. Turning around, a faint smile lingering on his features, he casually said, "I bet I do, but is it a bad chill you’re getting, Claire?" 

"Yes! Psychopath kind of chills!” Claire barked.

“Psychopath?” Ryan strode toward her, slowly with menace. 

“Michael Myers!" Claire remarked, and the closer he walked toward her, the deeper she sunk into the dark depth of desire coursing through her from the day she dared to kiss this devil up to this moment.

Claire took a step back the closer Ryan followed her, and when her butt stuck on the wall, he stopped moving and huge laughter ricocheted through the golden facade of the elevator walls. She glanced away, panting. 

"Okay… My apology for acting like a serial, psychotic killer," she heard Ryan saying, his voice serious and calm, yet mocking and sexy.

"Oh please!" Claire rolled her eyes and looked back at him. "And what do you want now, huh? Tired of playing the perfect boyfriend" — she drew her glittered black heels toward him — "and in need of a new toy?" She stopped right in front of him, staring straight into his blazing eyes. "Ryan, I don't know what you want from me but I got to be back there. Seriously,  my friend is waiting, and…"

And she knew she couldn't resist him if she dared to follow her whim right now. 

"But I think your friend is in better hands as we are speaking," Ryan replied matter-of-factly, eyes slanted.  "I doubt she's even thinking of you at the moment, and I certainly don't need a new toy, Claire." 

Claire huffed and muttered, "Bullshit,” before casting her gaze away for the umpteenth time. 

"You look so beautiful tonight," Ryan whispered, taking a very last step separating them. Again, Claire looked up at him. "I couldn't stop staring at you from the moment you walked in and…” He licked his bottom lip in a contemplative manner, as though he couldn’t find the right words to go on.

Claire felt a missing beat in her heart but she didn’t want to acknowledge it.

"I'm not falling for the sleazy lines you practiced in high school, Ryan. And I don't have anything to discuss with you so I'm gonna end this madness right now." She sprinted away and reached the floor panel on the wall to stop the elevator.

I need to go back! 

"What are you doing?" Ryan scowled.

"Leaving," she said dryly, but Ryan grabbed her briskly and secured her slim form onto the wall. "Damn it, Ryan! Let go of me!" She struggled to move, to kick, but the mere fact that her hands were bound above her head, leaving her body sensually defenseless made her relent subconsciously. 

She could’ve hit him in the groin, but she didn’t. She protested, yes, but the masochist in her loved this little game of dominance Ryan fancied to play. Her body ached to feel the danger of the unknown. 

"I won't let you go until we talk," Ryan breathed into her hair, eyeing her trembling lips lasciviously. " You and me. In private. " His lips were getting so close to hers she could taste them. 

"I swear, Ryan, if you try to k—"

"Kiss you?" He lay a thumb on her bottom lip; her chest heaved upon his touch. “What will you do if I kiss you?” 

"Ryan, stop!" She coiled. "Please." She closed her eyes, her head jerked to one side rather defensively.

No, not again. Don’t abuse my weakness,  Ryan Stevens!

As though he could hear her silent plea, Ryan pulled his head back and freed her hands that fell slowly. She opened her eyes, and the gentle smile on his face made her lost in a confusing trance.

At the same moment, the elevator pinged and the doors parted. An old interracial couple walked in, urging Claire and Ryan to wind at the back. The husband, a full-figured black man in his sixties, hit a button, and once again the doors closed. He smiled as he joined his wife, a slender caucasian woman in her fifties or so. 

An easy silence ensued until the old couple continued talking indistinctly. 

"You truly look stunning in that dress.  Honestly, " Ryan whispered into Claire’s ear, side-glancing at her. 

"Just shut up!" Claire hissed, and like a young stubborn boy, Ryan brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "Don't touch me!" she recoiled. 

"Well, unfortunately,  Claire, I do love touching you." That very same hand was now at the base of her neck, holding a soft caress down her spinal cord. "But that can wait—unless you want me to proceed, of course." His playful touch fell up to her waist. 

Claire swallowed thickly. And although it was uncalled for, her insides resonated with every little touch he indulged her, unsure if he was that irresistible or she was just horny. 

"You wish!" She tried to move but he held her firmly by the waist. "Goodness, Ryan,  what the fuck do you want?"

The old couple turned around upon their movement and hushed voices. 

Ryan smiled gently at them. "She's a stubborn one," he said.

The old man nodded. "Women. Don't I know all about that?" he said, his American accent bleeding through his English.  

"Right?" Ryan concurred, and then glanced at Claire accusingly. “Go easy on me, huh?” he whispered.

"You two married?" The old man indulged Ryan, who glanced up at him instantly. 

"No… not yet." He was a natural. "My girlfriend.  A firecracker, that is. Maybe I could use some tips?"

Claire rolled her eyes. The audacity! 

"Well, it's a ride or die, son. The only trick is accepting the whole damn package." Grinned the old man, and his wife scoffed at him so plainly. 

They looked like tourists, vacationing or celebrating something. 

Claire exchanged a glance with the smiling old lady and shrugged. 

"Don't worry, sweetheart.  We're just too kinky for them, and they're too dumb to notice that what we need is very simple," the old lady chimed in, making Claire laugh for once genuinely. 

"Of course," she replied to the old lady. To Ryan, she quietly said, "Take that, you crazy jerk." 

"Crazy jerk?" Enticed, Ryan set his hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him possessively. "Well, I can show you how crazy I can get, kinky lady."

Heat seared through Claire. She was losing her sense of judgment, and the challenging remarks coming from Ryan excited her more than she cared to admit.

The elevator had another stop and it appeared to be the final destination for Ryan and Claire. 

“Well, have a good evening,” Claire told the old couple.

“You too,” replied the old man.

“The best trick is sticking together through thick and thin,” his wife told Claire. “You make a great couple, by the way.”

Claire flushed. It felt good to hear that no matter how illusive it was. 

They stepped out and the elevator doors fell back together behind them.

"You're sick!" Claire dawdled. 

"So you keep saying," Ryan replied nonchalantly, his hand around her waist. 

"And where exactly are you taking me?" Claire's eyes widened frantically at the sight of a quiet, golden-lit hallway with a rich and refined ambiance; several doors accented the clean walls on both sides.

"Somewhere we can talk without interference." Ryan produced a key card from his jacket as they approached one of the doors.

"Oh no. I'm not going in a fucking hotel room with you!" Claire said as he swept the card to unlock the door. "I'm going back!" She bolted away, but he caught her quite fluidly. 

She was scared, too scared of what else she was capable of doing with this man if they stayed in a closed room… alone. 

"Of course not," Ryan said softly, holding her hand. "Haven't you said I'm crazy? Well, this is what crazy means!" In a heartbeat,  he lifted her with one arm and swooped her face down onto his shoulder. 

"Ryan!" Claire threw her legs around.  "Put me down!" she yelled; he laughed. "Ryan! Ryan… Dammit, Ryan, put me down!" 

Ryan sauntered through the door and kicked it shut. A wide room stretched before Claire's eyes, the king-size bed full of pillows holding the polished wooden floor upside-down. 

"Okay, there." He dropped her off.

"Bastard!" Claire breathed.

 "I'll… take that." Casually, Ryan placed the key card on the immediate console table, followed by his wallet and cell phone. Eyes back on the furious blonde, he gently approached, "Can't you just calm down for a second so that we can talk like two civilized adults?"

"Very ironic! You and civility are polar opposites, Ryan Stevens, as it so appears," Claire snarled. Ryan remained calm, his face slightly furrowed. "Look, people are waiting for us outside, and especially you, Ryan. So please, let's get out of here, huh?" she pleaded.

"They can go to hell for all I care," Ryan said with no trace of mockery.

"I swear you're just…" Claire clenched her fists tightly. No right word came to mind. "Gaaaah! I hate you!" she screamed and pulled a deep breath afterward.  One hand on her waist, she threw her clutch onto the console and looked back at Ryan, finally resigned. "Fine. What do you want us to talk about?"

"Us.”

“Be specific, please. We have more issues than Middle-Eastern politics.”

Ryan smiled fleetingly. 

“What's your deal with Bruno?" he asked while grabbing the remote controller from the same console table standing next to the door.

"Excuse me?" Claire frowned.

Seeming seriously invested in the topic, Ryan pressed a button and light poured into the room. "I mean, are you two dating or something?" His eyes were back on Claire's narrowed one. 

After a monument of time, Claire replied, "And why would you care about any of that, huh?" 

Ryan looked her deeply in the eyes, as though he was searching for her soul. "No, I don't. I just don't like the idea of you giving my brother the wrong impression just so you can hurt me."

Hurt him? That had never crossed Claire's mind at all. 

She took a deep sigh. "I would never use your brother to hurt you, Ryan," she told him.  It was the truth. "I do care for Bruno very much, and just so you know, not every relationship has to involve fake kisses and hugs and dirty games we're playing, you and me, by being here while we shouldn't be."

"What do you mean by fake kisses and hugs?" Ryan demanded, his tone displeased.

"You know perfectly well, you asshole! Just like yours for instance." Anger laced Claire's response. To quit this self-cry for help, she chose to step away from Ryan. A safe space to think clearly for even a second. "And… is this where you bring your new conquests?" She scanned the classic hotel room which held sophistication from its furniture up to the upscale city view through its windows. 

"You always think the worst of me, Claire, " Ryan breathed.

"And I'm to blame?” She snorted, rounding her full attention back to him. "Besides, why does it even matter to you? Bruno was the one who invited me here, unlike you who had all the opportunities in the world but still didn't. Oh, I know! How could you, with your beautiful girlfriend involved,  Ryan Stevens, how could you?" Her voice was pure sarcasm, but the pain was still there. 

It hurt her. Why did it hurt her?

"I wanted to invite you but I learned Bruno has done it already. I was slow I guess," Ryan said.

"Incredible." Claire smiled. "You always have an answer for everything,  don't you?"

"Wonderful profiling."

"Ah, you make me sick." Claire strode past him, reaching for her clutch. "I should be with Bruno and Gena right now, and not inside this God-forsaken hotel room with you!" She took what was hers and headed to the door. 

"Don't go, Claire," she heard his voice pleading—that deep, hoarse voice her subconscious remembered through the rainstorm when it cut through the cuffs of her darkest fear. 

She stopped; her whole body froze. 

"Stay, " he added. 

"You and I have nothing together, Ryan," Claire managed to say, her eyes on the door in front of her.

Small steps closed the distance served between her and Ryan. Warm breath emitted through her nose. She was nervous. 

"Do you really think we have nothing?" Ryan asked. "Are you absolutely sure, Claire?" He was behind her, his scent too powerful to keep her sane.

Her skin suffered when his hard chest stood in contact with her back. Her eyes closed instantly as his fingers ran gently over her arms, from her elbows to her shoulders—his breath hot against her neck.

"You believe this is nothing?" He pressed his lips on the side of her neck,  and her eyes flashed open in a sensual shock that tilted her inner equilibrium. 

"Yes," she lied. "It's nothing."

Leave! Open the fucking door and leave, Claire Levy! He's dangerous!

"Why are you trying to deny what you want, huh?" Ryan slid his hand down her stomach. "Or should I say" — from her stomach, they rubbed their way stealthily toward her chest —"what your body wants?" he whispered as he reached the swell of her breasts. 

She sucked in her tummy and murmured, "Ryan," but didn't know what to say. 

How foolish! 

"See? Your nipples are hard and I haven't even tasted them." Kissing her jaw, Ryan's fingers began kneading her breasts around and around. 

A pulse shot straight to Claire's clit. How was he doing this? She tried her best to regain control of her body and mind, but the more he touched her and breathed his devilish voice into her ears, the more her body betrayed her mind. 

Swiftly, she spun herself around to face Ryan, her breath so fickle she could choke, without breaking his grip around her.

"So," she began with a shaky voice, his smoldering eyes staring down at her ravenously, "you brought me here just to have my body, right?"

Ryan narrowed his eyes. "Claire—"

"Is that what you want from me, Ryan?" Claire went on, deadly serious. "To fuck me?"

"I never said I only want your body, Claire. What if I want all of you?" As though he was suddenly angry, Ryan hauled her closer to him; her breasts crushed on his chest, and his breath quickened. "Don't you want to know how it feels to have my cock deep inside you? My real kisses taste like in your mouth, since you think all the others were fake?" 

"Ryan… Oh, my God." Air ran short in Claire's lungs when warm fingers slid through the slit of her dress, aiming straight at the juncture of her thighs. 

"What about other things I could do to you right now?" With a cold face, yet hot as hell, Ryan stared straight into her unfocused eyes. "I dare you to stop me, Claire." He rubbed her most sensitive feminine core without taking off a single piece of her clothes. 

Hormones betrayed Claire when her legs parted willingly to let Ryan in. Seeing his feeble smile of triumph that, per se, indicated how wet she was even though he hadn't touched any part of her as intimately as he intended to, she knew it was over. 

She was done for. 

"You're wet, baby, " Ryan told her, and as retribution for her silent consent, he slid his hand through the waistband of her tiny underwear.  His eyes remained on hers, like a panoramic view of the sunset, golden and glowing, even as he added, "You're more than what you think you are, Claire. You're perfect." His lips fell on hers. 

Pleasure spiked through Claire until she couldn't breathe properly. Like a capricious ocean tide, her chest rose and fell at each rub of Ryan's finger on her clit, and several knots tightened in her tummy every second he kissed her. She kissed him back with fire, throwing her slender arms around his neck like a possessive slave to his master. 

"I want you to fuck me," she whispered into his mouth, and his middle finger slid between her nether lips. 

"Say it again, " Ryan demanded, stroking her slowly, very slowly. "Say you me to fuck you. Say it." In and out, his finger drilled through her wetness. 

"I want you to fuck me, Ryan," Claire repeated sternly, and his diabolic smile grew hot on his lips that resumed tangling with hers dominantly. 

Just this once, Claire told herself, I'll do what my heart desires. She wanted to feel like a woman, hopefully with no remorse entertained when her senses finally kicked in. The way Ryan kissed her lips, and her breasts, and finger-fucked her wet pussy carefully and teasingly, made her world spin uncontrollably with danger she knew existed the moment she followed him.

Derailed from her thoughts, Claire fell back swiftly against the wall—Ryan's doing. 

A loud gasp escaped her, but anticipation swirled through her like a deadly whirlpool. She giggled delightedly when Ryan's erection poked her ass. His breath burned her skin when he leaned into her, pressing her further onto the wall. And when he lifted the skirt of her dress, slim air washed over her bottom and her hands hugged the wall. 

Ryan crouched himself and pulled down her panties in a slow, agonizing move that left her wanting, needy, and hungry for more. All the while, his lips kissed her butt cheeks, sucked her tender skin, then down to her thighs, in the same gentle movement her underwear went down her ankles. She moaned again, loudly, and her back arched to draw her ass up and legs wider until she stepped out of her panties. 

"Fuck, you're beautiful, " Ryan said. Instinctively,  Claire turned around and their eyes met. Myriad emotions rose through them, but they knew exactly what they felt. "What do you want?" he asked her, gazing up at her.

"Everything," saying this, Claire gripped his hair and drew his head between her thighs. 

When Ryan's tongue delved through her pussy, Claire cried with euphoric pleasure. Her eyes rolled upward, and her head tipped backward. Her waist rocked as she chased the core of ecstasy. Expertly, Ryan took her thigh onto his shoulder, opened her wider, sucked her clit so hard, and God, she could feel her blood boiling and everything coiled inside her, threatening to burst. 

The world seemed to have stopped spinning. And just when Claire felt like her body was about to explode and shatter, Ryan pulled out and stood up, a smile painted on his flushed face. She wanted to speak, to argue, but he shut her with a kiss,  and quietly, he lifted her; her thighs curled around his waist. Kissing again, deeper and deeper, they heeded toward the bed.

Just this once, Claire branded Ryan hers, and he wanted nothing but to make her feel like a woman. Would the world flip to an end if she just fuck this man her whole body desired, and her heart beat too hard for her? Why did it feel so perfect all the while it was perfectly wrong? No, she didn't care. She wanted him; he wanted her. Period.

____________

A/N: Seriously,  sorry for the long chapter. I felt like dividing it would ruin the flow lol.