Resisting Her. Kendall Ryan
thought it unusual that he wasn’t married. He was in his late-twenties, he was kind and attractive. But just as quickly as the thoughts had entered her head, she’d pushed them away. She had no business wondering about his love life.
She followed Cole down the hallway, where he pointed out a large marble-floored guest bathroom and his bedroom, which she’d already seen, before stopping at another door just across from his.
He cleared his throat. ‘This is the guest room.’ He gestured for her to enter.
She stepped around him, entering the spacious room decorated in creams and whites. The large inviting bed in the center of the room drew her forward. When she pressed a hand into the center of the plush bed, there was no way she’d willing go back to sleeping on that hard, stained cot. The bed was outfitted in the softest blankets she’d ever felt. She toured the room, running her hand along the smooth curves of the dark wood dresser and then turned to face Cole. She wondered if she’d be allowed to stay. There was something about him — she sensed it from the first time she saw him at the compound. Though she probably should have feared him, she felt comforted by his presence.
‘You can, ah, sleep here.’ He rubbed a hand along the back of this neck. His bicep flexed, pulling against the T-shirt he wore. He had large, powerful muscles in his back, shoulders and arms, but somehow Savannah knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He didn’t strike her as the violent type.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured. She tried to imagine herself living in a place so nice, but it was too big and too empty to feel comfortable. She was accustomed to sleeping in a bunk room with other women and children, relaxing to the sounds of breathing or soft snores. But still, she appreciated his providing this room, where at least she would be safe. She’d already noted the door had its own lock.
They stood facing each other, neither speaking, but each studying the other. Savannah shifted her weight, looking down at her baggy jeans and sweatshirt. She didn’t have a change of clothes, let alone pajamas or a toothbrush, but she wasn’t about to ask Cole for anything else. He’d been too kind already, and she didn’t want to wear out her welcome or cause him any objections to her staying.
Savannah was still standing in the center of the guest room, her bare feet buried in the plush carpeting. Cole suddenly found himself grateful for his sister Marissa’s interior decorating help. He’d resisted it at first, but she’d slowly worn him down, reminding him that he might still be a bachelor, but he wasn’t twenty-two anymore, and he was making good money. She said it was time to live like a grown-up. So he’d gotten a new bedroom set for himself, or more accurately he went along with Marissa to the furniture store, and handed over his credit card once she’d picked everything out.
She’d redecorated his place room by room, finishing with the guest room Savannah now stood in. He’d told Marissa it was a waste of money. This room had never held a guest in his three years of living here; it was where he kept his seldom used ironing board, luggage set and mountain bike. But now watching Savannah walk towards the bed and press her palm into the center of the fluffy comforter, he silently praised Marissa’s intervention, not that he’d ever admit that to her.
‘Wait right here. I’ll be back.’ Cole returned a moment later with a pair of his sweat pants and an old T-shirt, handing them to Savannah. ‘You can wear this if it helps.’
Savannah accepted the clothes gratefully, and Cole left the room so she could change. A few minutes later, he tapped on the door with his knuckles. ‘Are you decent?’
She opened the door and stood before him. The baggy clothes seemed to swallow her.
‘We’ll figure everything out in the morning. Just get some rest, okay?’
Savannah nodded, yawning sleepily. Cole watched her crawl into the bed, his chest tightening at the sight of her in his clothes, looking so small and helpless in the big bed. ‘Night,’ he uttered, his voice surprisingly tight.
He was grateful he had a few days off to help Savannah figure things out. How he would use those days, he had no idea. Of course, he would have to go back to work soon, and he had his Sunday visits with Abbie—which he hoped Savannah didn’t need to know about. But one thing at a time. She was safe and warm in the guest bedroom, and that was good enough for now.
When Cole woke the following morning, or afternoon as it were, it took him a moment to place the sounds coming from inside his apartment. Savannah. His heart did a little happy dance in his chest at the thought of finding her in his kitchen. He stretched and went to investigate. When he entered the kitchen, his bare feet thudding against the wood floor, Savannah looked up and froze like she’d been caught doing something wrong.
‘Hi,’ he offered, attempting to reassure her.
Her features softened. ‘Hi.’
Cole scanned the mixing bowls and ingredients spread across his counters, and the island covered in a dusting of flour. ‘Did you sleep okay?’
Savannah’s eyes wandered the length of Cole’s bare chest and stopped at the trail of fine hair grazing his lower stomach and disappearing under his waistband. She cleared her throat and looked down at her hands. ‘Mmm hmm,’ she stammered.
Cole bit his lip to keep from chuckling. His muscular physique always got positive reviews from the opposite sex. And he was surprised to see that even after all Savannah had been through, she still noticed him. He worked hard to keep in top physical shape, kick-boxing three times a week, lifting weights, and running the rest of the days. He glanced down at his naked chest and abs. His pants had slipped ever so slightly down on his hips, exposing his lower abdominals and the lines along his sides that formed a deep V at his hips. He tightened the drawstring, doubling the knot. Down boy. Now was not the time to get a hard on.
He rarely wore anything to bed but had tugged on a pair of pajama pants last night just in case Savannah needed anything in the middle of the night. That way he wouldn’t have to fumble for his clothes in the darkness, or risk terrifying the poor girl with his naked manhood. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt; he found the material too damn restrictive. He preferred the feel of his satin sheets against his bare skin — it was the one comfort he allowed himself.
‘I’m making pancakes. I hope that’s okay,’ Savannah said quietly.
A box of mix sat on the counter. ‘Of course that’s okay. Thank you.’ Cole crossed the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, stepping around her and noticing how unaccustomed he was to having someone in his space, though it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
‘Sorry, I didn’t know how to operate that thing.’ Savannah eyed the coffee maker like it had personally offended her.
‘Come here, I’ll show you.’
Once Savannah had wiped her hands on a dish towel and sidled up next to Cole, he couldn’t resist guiding her in between himself and the counter, so she was closer to the coffee maker, he told himself.
Savannah sucked in a breath at the contact, but didn’t protest, allowing him to maneuver her body as he pleased. He demonstrated how to add fresh beans to the grinder and then how to set the beans to roast, then brew. The coffee maker was fussier than he was used to, but it had been a gift from Marissa last Christmas, and now he was addicted to fresh roasted coffee beans.
Neither of them moved away as the coffee began to drip into the waiting carafe. A sudden vision of lifting her hair off the back of her neck and leaning in to plant a kiss on her soft skin danced through his mind. He was just inches from pressing into her, grinding his hips into her ass. He felt his cock stir and knew their lesson was over.
‘Let’s eat,’ he grumbled.
Savannah stood in stunned silence as he stalked from the kitchen. He grabbed a T-shirt and threw it on before sitting down at the breakfast bar. Savannah slid a stack of pancakes in front of