About That Night
Page 82
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Later, when they entered Rylann’s apartment, she took his hand and led him to her bedroom. Slowly, he undid the tie of her dress at her waist, then pushed it off her shoulders and to the floor. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
His hands and mouth moved tenderly over her body until she ached for him. When he finally settled between her legs and entered her, filling her completely, he tangled his hands in her hair and whispered huskily in her ear.
“You’re mine, Rylann.”
Thirty-one
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Rylann dressed for work as Kyle fielded a steady stream of phone calls in her living room. He finally took a break and walked into the bathroom just as she finished straightening her hair.
“From the sound of things, I’d say there are lots of people eager to get in bed with the Twitter Terrorist,” she teased.
“It’s like an orgy at this point.” He slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck, the scruff along his jaw scraping gently against her skin. While he’d already commandeered an extra toothbrush he’d found in her bathroom, they hadn’t yet had The Talk about him keeping a razor or any of his other things at her apartment.
When he pulled back and met her gaze in the mirror, she knew from his mischievous expression that something was up. “What’s going on? I recognize that look.”
He grinned broadly. “I got the cover of Time.”
Rylann did a double take. “Wait—Time magazine? You. On the cover.”
“Yep. The reporter I’ve been talking to just called to say his editor signed off on it. They plan to run my picture with the caption ‘The New Face of Network Security.’ Let’s just hope they don’t use my mug shot,” he joked.
“The cover of Time,” Rylann repeated. Then she turned around and planted one right on his mouth. “That is awesome.”
“Perfect timing, too, with the launch of my company.” He shrugged. “I had to agree to talk about the Twitter thing—Tijuana, my conviction, prison life, the whole nine yards—but I figure it’s worth it.”
Instantly, Rylann got a sinking feeling in her stomach. She was beyond thrilled for Kyle and knew what a great opportunity this was for him. But the interview would thrust the details of his arrest and conviction once again into the spotlight, and she’d been hoping, perhaps naively, that everyone could just…move on from that.
Kyle had been very blunt about his feelings over the way his case had been handled by her office, including the fact that they’d called him a “terrorist” and sought the maximum prison sentence. It was inevitable that the reporter would inquire about those subjects. And if Kyle answered the questions candidly, she feared the U.S. Attorney’s Office would not be cast in the most positive light.
She could already picture the scene a week from now. Her, walking into work the morning the Time story hit the newsstands, the other AUSAs gossiping about it in the hallways. Cade dropping by to talk, annoyed about being cast as the villain, and Cameron very possibly frustrated that the integrity of the office she’d been working hard to rebuild since her predecessor’s departure was once again called into question.
And behind the scenes, Rylann would be in the middle of it all.
Yes, she could always ask Kyle to not cast any aspersions on her office during the interview. But doing that felt wrong. Whether she agreed with him or not, he should have the right to express his opinions on the subject—especially since she knew that Cade had, in fact, been told to go after him particularly hard because of his last name and financial status.
And so the situation between her and Kyle grew that much more complicated.
“Are you okay?” Kyle touched her chin. “You’re making the serious face again.”
Rylann forced herself to plaster on what she hoped looked like a genuine smile and went for a joke. This was Kyle’s moment, and she wouldn’t ruin it for him. “Sorry. I just got a little starstruck there. It’s not every day I get to rub elbows with someone whose face is on the cover of a magazine.”
He held her gaze. “It could be an everyday thing, you know.”
Rylann’s heart began to race. Suddenly, it seemed they were about to have The Talk after all. And judging from her body’s reaction, she was either excited to take their relationship to the next level…or about to have a panic attack.
Then Kyle’s cell phone rang again, interrupting the moment.
He swore under his breath. “I should take that. Sorry things are so crazy right now.”
“It’s okay. You do your work thing.” She exhaled unsteadily when he left.
She finished getting ready for work and was in her kitchen, pouring cereal into a bowl, when Kyle hung up the phone and walked over from the living room.
“I should get going,” he said. “I need to run home, take a quick shower, and head into the office. According to Sean, we’ve already received thirty calls on the business line this morning.” He pulled her closer. “I’m going to dinner tonight with my family. It’s a tradition Jordan and I started eight years ago, as a way of making sure my dad wasn’t alone on the anniversary of my mother’s car accident. Can I call you afterward?”
Rylann nodded, thinking that it probably wasn’t such a bad idea for them to spend the evening apart. Clearly, she had a lot of thinking to do. “Sure.” She touched his face. “Is it hard, today being the nine-year anniversary of the accident?”
His hands and mouth moved tenderly over her body until she ached for him. When he finally settled between her legs and entered her, filling her completely, he tangled his hands in her hair and whispered huskily in her ear.
“You’re mine, Rylann.”
Thirty-one
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Rylann dressed for work as Kyle fielded a steady stream of phone calls in her living room. He finally took a break and walked into the bathroom just as she finished straightening her hair.
“From the sound of things, I’d say there are lots of people eager to get in bed with the Twitter Terrorist,” she teased.
“It’s like an orgy at this point.” He slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck, the scruff along his jaw scraping gently against her skin. While he’d already commandeered an extra toothbrush he’d found in her bathroom, they hadn’t yet had The Talk about him keeping a razor or any of his other things at her apartment.
When he pulled back and met her gaze in the mirror, she knew from his mischievous expression that something was up. “What’s going on? I recognize that look.”
He grinned broadly. “I got the cover of Time.”
Rylann did a double take. “Wait—Time magazine? You. On the cover.”
“Yep. The reporter I’ve been talking to just called to say his editor signed off on it. They plan to run my picture with the caption ‘The New Face of Network Security.’ Let’s just hope they don’t use my mug shot,” he joked.
“The cover of Time,” Rylann repeated. Then she turned around and planted one right on his mouth. “That is awesome.”
“Perfect timing, too, with the launch of my company.” He shrugged. “I had to agree to talk about the Twitter thing—Tijuana, my conviction, prison life, the whole nine yards—but I figure it’s worth it.”
Instantly, Rylann got a sinking feeling in her stomach. She was beyond thrilled for Kyle and knew what a great opportunity this was for him. But the interview would thrust the details of his arrest and conviction once again into the spotlight, and she’d been hoping, perhaps naively, that everyone could just…move on from that.
Kyle had been very blunt about his feelings over the way his case had been handled by her office, including the fact that they’d called him a “terrorist” and sought the maximum prison sentence. It was inevitable that the reporter would inquire about those subjects. And if Kyle answered the questions candidly, she feared the U.S. Attorney’s Office would not be cast in the most positive light.
She could already picture the scene a week from now. Her, walking into work the morning the Time story hit the newsstands, the other AUSAs gossiping about it in the hallways. Cade dropping by to talk, annoyed about being cast as the villain, and Cameron very possibly frustrated that the integrity of the office she’d been working hard to rebuild since her predecessor’s departure was once again called into question.
And behind the scenes, Rylann would be in the middle of it all.
Yes, she could always ask Kyle to not cast any aspersions on her office during the interview. But doing that felt wrong. Whether she agreed with him or not, he should have the right to express his opinions on the subject—especially since she knew that Cade had, in fact, been told to go after him particularly hard because of his last name and financial status.
And so the situation between her and Kyle grew that much more complicated.
“Are you okay?” Kyle touched her chin. “You’re making the serious face again.”
Rylann forced herself to plaster on what she hoped looked like a genuine smile and went for a joke. This was Kyle’s moment, and she wouldn’t ruin it for him. “Sorry. I just got a little starstruck there. It’s not every day I get to rub elbows with someone whose face is on the cover of a magazine.”
He held her gaze. “It could be an everyday thing, you know.”
Rylann’s heart began to race. Suddenly, it seemed they were about to have The Talk after all. And judging from her body’s reaction, she was either excited to take their relationship to the next level…or about to have a panic attack.
Then Kyle’s cell phone rang again, interrupting the moment.
He swore under his breath. “I should take that. Sorry things are so crazy right now.”
“It’s okay. You do your work thing.” She exhaled unsteadily when he left.
She finished getting ready for work and was in her kitchen, pouring cereal into a bowl, when Kyle hung up the phone and walked over from the living room.
“I should get going,” he said. “I need to run home, take a quick shower, and head into the office. According to Sean, we’ve already received thirty calls on the business line this morning.” He pulled her closer. “I’m going to dinner tonight with my family. It’s a tradition Jordan and I started eight years ago, as a way of making sure my dad wasn’t alone on the anniversary of my mother’s car accident. Can I call you afterward?”
Rylann nodded, thinking that it probably wasn’t such a bad idea for them to spend the evening apart. Clearly, she had a lot of thinking to do. “Sure.” She touched his face. “Is it hard, today being the nine-year anniversary of the accident?”