Taming the Playboy Read Online Free Page B

over.
     
    ****
     
    She awoke to a dark room.  Reaching for Ryan, she found nothing but cold sheets.  She slipped on his t-shirt and set off to find him. Music blared from a shut doorway down the hall.  She could hear the pounding of footsteps on a treadmill.  He was nothing if not dedicated. 
     
    She cracked the door open but he didn’t look up.  His eyes were locked on the baseball game on the flat screen hanging on the wall.  Her heart leapt.  He was gorgeous.  If she had to describe perfection, it would be Ryan West.  His muscles rippled across his shoulder blades with every step.  His solid legs were tanned.  If there was an ounce of fat on him, it wasn’t visible.  She watched his abs, ripped.  His arms, solid.  She licked her lips.  His sleeve tattoos were a turn on. She couldn’t wait to ask him about them. She took a step into the room and the floor squeaked.
     
    His eyes shot to the mirror and locked with hers. He grinned.  His dark hair had become curly with perspiration.  HiH
    His eyes were so dark, they were almost black. His lips were sinful and why full, long eye lashes were wasted on a man, she would never know. 
     
    “Did I wake you?”  He hit the volume on the radio.
     
    Her voice was barely a whisper.  “Are you ok?”
     
    He toweled off his hair.  “Yes.  I’m great.  Are you ok?”
     
    She smiled as he pulled her in for a sweaty hug.  “I would say I am most definitely better than ok.  I should probably get going.”
     
    “Stay. I am off tomorrow.  We can spend the day together.”  His mouth had a mind of its own.
     
    Layla smiled.  “Are you sure?”
     
    “Yes.  Let me take a quick shower and we can talk for awhile.”
     
    She giggled.  “I’ll join you.”
     
    Ryan took his time washing every inch of Layla.  His hands were gentle and he kissed her and held her against him.  When they were through, he gave her a clean t-shirt and helped her get dressed.  He even let her use his toothbrush.  He was so screwed.
     
    “Tell me what some of your tattoos mean.  I love them.”  Layla traced the script B on his right arm.  “This is my favorite.  I love the Red Sox.”
     
    “ Shit! Seriously?”  His shock made her smile.
     
    “Yes.  I am a big Ellsbury fan.  Hottest center fielder in the league.”
     
    Ryan laughed.  “That’s my girl.”  My girl? 
     
    “What about his one? What are the initials in it?”  Layla traced the orange ribbon on his wrist. 
     
    He took a deep breath and sat down on the couch.  She followed and snuggled into his arms. “The orange ribbon is leukemia awareness.  I was diagnosed at eleven.  We moved out here to get what my parents thought would be the best treatment.  I was almost twelve before my parents would allow actual doctors to treat me instead of all these holistic healers.”  Another deep breath and Layla pulled back to look him in the eyes.  “I had a bunch of chemotherapy through a port in my spine.  When that didn’t work, I got a bone marrow transplant from someone I had never met before.  Since then, we have kept in touch almost daily.  My life was saved by that transplant.”
     
    “Oh, Ryan.  I didn’t know it had been that bad.”  She held him close and he let out the breath he was holding. 
     
    “I was in remission until a little scare in college.  Five rounds of chemotherapy later, I lost my baseball scholarship and all hopes of playing in the majors.  So,” He held his wrist out to her.  “I had this done the day I lost my scholarship.  I wanted to remember the courage through loss and the person who gave me my life back.  Those are my donor’s initials.”
     
    “That is beautiful Ryan.  The tattoo and the story.  It must have been so much to take in at that age.  So hard to understand.”
     
    He patted his lap and she crawled on.  “It was scary and it completely sucked.  But honestly, I would not change it for anything.  Boston was a great