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UNRAVEL ME KENDALL RYAN PDF

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C24F45BF7F2D3F6BDC. Unravel Me 1. Unravel Me (Unravel Me Series Book 1) - Kindle edition by Kendall Ryan. Download it once and read. Read Unravel Me read free novels online from your Mobile, Pc. Unravel Me is a Romance novel by Kendall Ryan. Unravel Me (Unravel Me, #1), Make Me Yours (Unravel Me, #2), and Forbidden Love: The Complete Unravel Me Series (Unravel Me, #).


Unravel Me Kendall Ryan Pdf

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I give Noah an excuse and shove the phone in my pocket. I really need to get my head in the game. Once back inside my apartment, I leave the lights off, finding my way in the darkness easily.

Sidestepping around the dining table and sofa, I find the wall that separates my bedroom from the living area and enter my room. Reaching down, I grip my cock that has been hard ever since Camryn walked up the stairs to the bar, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. The soft swell of cleavage under her low-cut top was mesmerizing.

And the way she challenged me, probing, trying to tease out what I was looking for. The way she stood up for herself when those women made her feel inferior. I strip my shirt off over my head, and tug my boxers and jeans down my thighs. My erection stands tall and ready, and I stroke in quick pulls, right there in the center of my bedroom. Needing to relieve tension that her unexpected presence in my life is causing, I move my hand up and down in even strokes, my breath pushing past my lips with the exertion.

With thoughts of Camryn swirling in my brain, my climax comes faster than I expected, and I come in the wadded-up T-shirt still clutched in my hand. Sinking into my king-sized mattress, I let out a heavy sigh. What the fuck is happening to me? I shove my phone aside without responding. Of all the fucked-up situations to find myself in, this is one I never imagined. Noah was right. Asking Camryn out would be insane. It would be suicide.

I need to remind myself of that. Lying there, staring up at the ceiling fan whoosh in lazy circles, I try to solve the puzzle buzzing through my brain. Do I really like her? I like her.

Deep down, I really like her. Lying here in the dark cloak of night, I make a deal with myself. I can spend more time with her —hell, I can even mess around with her if things come to that point—but I promise myself one thing. Being the good nosy friend she is, Anna has already sufficiently grilled me about my dinner out with Sterling this past weekend, and of course, our evening out last night. I downplayed the strange sexual tension that crackled between us. The intimacy of the restaurant.

The way his gaze stayed glued to mine. His low voice.

Kendall Ryan (novelist)

My cock is a big boy. A shudder zips through me at the memory. And then last night, the way he only had eyes for me, despite the roomful of gorgeous women clamoring for his attention.

His confidence.

His candor. If we were both single, I could see myself falling fast for him. We discussed him swinging by the office today if he got a break in his work day. Slamming my fingers against the keyboard, I manage to finish the e-mail without typos and finally click SEND.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I nod. I have a desk in the center of the room facing the door, and Anna is seated at the L-shaped desk in the corner, typing away. I refuse to glance up and check the clock yet again, but when I hear a British accent, all bets are off and my gaze flies to the door. Only a confident man wears pink. A warm shiver passes through my body.

I rise to my feet and wander out to join them. As I approach, Sterling turns to Olivia and gestures to her belly. Go ahead. This is incredible. Makes me want to get someone pregnant. Get in line, ladies.

I approach and stop beside Olivia. The space seems smaller with his masculine presence looming. Anna turns and her focus lands on Sterling, her gaze drifting up his six-foot-plus form. Her mouth opens and she just kind of stares blankly. This snaps her from her likely erotic daydream, and she manages to say a shaky hi.

Sterling obeys, and I sit across from him. The desk between us feels like a necessary barrier. Make sure your calendar is free. Last night, we merely covered bigpicture things. Hair color. Chest size. Shaved bald or landing strip? Give me your preferences.

He leans back in his seat and appraises me, his gaze sinking slowly from my loose chignon bun to the peep-toe pumps resting under my desk. I fight off a shiver. With dark blond hair. Shoulder length. And green eyes. He promised to take this seriously. When I take on a project, I always see it through.

No matter what. Sighing, I inhale deeply. Your preferences. Trust me; size matters. I set down the mug on the far end of my desk and jot down a note, then press on. Race, religion, politics. Any particular quirks, such as a foot fetish or a breast man, things like that I need to be aware of? I can begin assembling some candidates for you to consider.

My knees tremble, and I force a breath into my lungs. Sterling checks his wristwatch, a platinum-and-gold number that looks expensive.

I need to check my schedule. Ring me and let me know. Instead, I lean against the side of my desk and pull deep breaths into my lungs. That was crazy. But it might as well be written in Mandarin for all I can decipher. Sterling has left me completely and utterly flustered. How many lovers has he had? Who am I kidding? Not Anna.

And not myself. Closing my eyes for a second, I scold myself silently, because I have no right to be jealous. I might. I can see where her loyalties lie. First, I need some answers. Did I forget something at your office? I had some questions for you. No sense in beating around the bush. Before I agree to spend time with you, there are a few things I need to know.

Anna is on her feet, making slashing motions across her throat with her hand.

What is it? Or can you not count that high? Not enough to make me a total fucking wanker. I like you, Camryn. Maybe this is his last hurrah before becoming a married man. Not the next day. A girly bubble of laughter escapes my lips, and I clamp a hand over my mouth.

I want to bitchslap myself for that outburst. But Sterling only seems amused. Where should I meet you? At seven. My cheeks are bright red when I hang up the phone. His flat. How very British of him. Anna lets out a small squeal as she jumps up. I hold up my hand. I spend the rest of the work day trying to make peace with his explanation, to talk myself into this non-date.

I weigh the pros and cons, push the women of his past and future out of my mind. But I hate the thought that past girlfriends know intimate details about him—how he tastes, how he fucks, how it feels to sleep beside him all night—all things that I will never know or get the chance to do.

I say good night to Anna and pack up my things. The entire way home, I argue with myself. Part of me wants to just go with it. The other part of me knows this is a recipe for disaster. Our hanging out is stupid. I take a deep breath and remember that he promised it was casual fun, nothing more. But it feels impossible not to. I straightened, dusted, vacuumed, and sanitized for the last hour and a half.

My balcony, which was the whole reason I bought this place, has been transformed. Over the weekend, I picked up a soft blue outdoor rug with tassels on the ends, along with several large throw pillows in navy and cream.

Two large pine-tree-shaped shrubs sit in gold pots and are decorated with white twinkle lights. The city lights in the distance and the soft hum of the distant traffic below add character. I like it. I never thought to ask if she likes seafood.

Pleased, I head into my bathroom, wanting to wash my hands and change my shirt before she arrives. I toss the T-shirt I was wearing into the laundry basket and check my appearance in the mirror. After washing my hands, I splash a little cologne onto my jaw, then pull on a light-blue cotton button-down.

Nights out with bright lights and fast women have been replaced by nights in with one very hard-to-get woman. An interesting fucking turn in events is what it is.

Rebecca and I dated for eight months last year, if you can even call it that. Our only connection was work. She was just filling the empty space for a time, but that ran its course. Of course I want a woman in my life. Easy companionship without any of the weird guessing games, intelligent conversation with a woman, someone who keeps me on my toes.

I answer it immediately as the overwhelming feeling that something is wrong stirs in my gut. She suffered a bad episode tonight. For now. Charles lets out a heavy sigh. Tried to harm herself. All the more reason why I need to get her the best care money can download. But the cost of her medicines alone each month is twice my mortgage. Charles releases a deep sigh. You need to be married.

Your mum is counting on you, Sterling. The sinking feeling in my chest balloons, and I force a breath into my lungs. Forty-five, tops. I wander out onto the balcony where the romantic scene seems to mock me. I should be with my mum, who needs me. I should stick to the fucking plan and do everything in my power to make sure I get that inheritance check, just like my uncle said.

After leaving work early, I rushed home to shower and redo my makeup. Once I added some layered gold necklaces, I was set. I felt pretty without being overdone. Taking a deep breath, I step onto the elevator and punch the button for the tenth floor. I stop at his door and knock twice, my mouth already twitching with a smile. After waiting about a minute with no answer, I press my ear to the door. And wait, my smile fading. Still nothing. I twist the doorknob, and finding it unlocked, let myself inside.

It suits him. After a quick glance around the living space, I spot him on the balcony outside, just beyond the glass doors at the far end of the living room.

My smile from moments ago is gone. Seeing him like this—looking distraught—brings the reality of our situation crashing back. Sterling suddenly turns and we lock eyes.

He lets out a heavy sigh and runs one hand through his hair. He seems off. And what could have possibly changed in the twenty-four hours since we last spoke on the phone?

Unsure what to do, I follow behind him. Never mind. This was a bad idea, anyway. His grip around my wrist stops me. He releases a heavy exhale. Memories of our intimate dinner rush back. But apparently tonight is not meant to be a repeat. All the optimism I had vanishes.

Forbidden Love: The Complete Unravel Me Series

The conflicted look in his eyes grips something deep inside me. Mum stood up for me, helped get me through. But Mum was there. Eventually I met Noah and got along fine, but those first months were hard. As I grew, I always stayed close to her. The urge to pull her into my arms and hold her there is much too strong. I stroke her jaw, fighting with myself not to kiss her, and she looks up at me with huge green eyes.

She draws a slow, shaky breath, still watching me with wide eyes as I touch her. This just feels right. And for the first time in a long time, I feel good.

You seemed pissed off. Will you please stay? She has a beautiful mouth. My hand slides lower until it comes to rest on her lower back.

The movement thrusts her chest forward slightly, and her firm breasts graze my chest. She responds with a tiny shiver. My cock instantly goes hard at the crackling electricity between us. One small touch has never gotten me so ready, so quickly. Wanting to devour her, to taste her lips and hear her whimpers of desire, I force myself to pull away from the soft curves of her body, her huge, hungry eyes and damp lips. Camryn nods, and I lead her out onto the balcony.

I spent a solid hour giving this place a total makeover. Camryn takes a seat on one of the pillows, and I do the same across from her. I pour us each a glass of wine as we settle in. I watch Camryn take in the view surrounding us. The towering buildings glitter in the distance, and a gentle breeze lifts a stray strand of her hair.

I inhale, my jaw ticking. Let me put the finishing touches on dinner. Just chill, mate. One step at a time. This looks amazing. The evening air is crisp, and I settle a woolly throw blanket over her lap. We can go inside, if you prefer. So we make small talk and stick to safe topics. Let me have my fantasies. Someone to grow old with. Feel free to run the other way now. Climb down the trellis if you need to.

Camryn takes another sip of her wine. And my uncle Charles is just worried, is all. My father left three years ago. When someone that vital to your life disappears from it, it leaves a little hole behind. I know that firsthand. We discuss our goals, more about our families, a little about work. We learn that neither of us has much contact with our dads, something unexpected that we share.

Anyone looking at my life from the outside may think I have it all. A great career? A small, but close-knit group of girlfriends? But my reality is much different. I crave a true connection, a partner in life, someone who gets me and accepts me for who I am.

My ex was none of those, and I fooled myself into believing I was having fun—living it up in my twenties with a sexy fling. But deep inside, I yearned for more. And tonight, Sterling has unknowingly opened a huge gaping wound inside me. Showed me what it was like to spend an evening with a man interested in conversation just for the sake of getting to know me. An attorney where I work. It was convenient. And how long did you date her? And you were monogamous the entire time?

He must have his reasons. You were dating someone last year too. Maybe he silently kept tabs on me like I did on him. He took off. We set the dishes in the kitchen and take our glasses to the couch. His living room is masculine, yet inviting. A navy sofa in tweed fabric sits facing the large windows, and a leather armchair and small table made of steel round out the other side of the room.

True affection. True intimacy. True love. A shot at something real in this life. And Sterling and I share that desire. He wants something true as badly as I do. He needs it, maybe even more than I do. Well, it sort of is. There should be miles between work friends and fuck buddies, but with Sterling this close, with his subtle, spicy cologne and his deep blue eyes gazing into mine, everything is fuzzy.

A warm shudder passes through me. Dear God, could he get any sexier? If he suggested I test out how he fucked, would I even have the strength to say no? His hands are on my jaw, and he tilts my mouth up to meet his. My eyes drift closed just as his warm, full lips press softly against mine. When he sucks lightly on my bottom lip, I open to him. Then, so slowly it makes me ache, he brushes his tongue against mine. Holy shit. His kiss is all of those things at once.

And more. He holds my jaw with one hand while the other trails down the front of my deep V-neck sweater. Careful to avoid my breasts, which ache for his touch, he lightly trails his fingertips along the line of exposed cleavage, leaving warmth tingling in his wake.

My entire body silently pleads for more. When he pulls away, he does so only a few inches, and rests his forehead against mine. Even the way this man curses is hot. Pulling back a fraction more, Sterling focuses his eyes on mine. His are dark, glazed over with hot lust, and it makes me want him even more, knowing I affect him as much as he does me. With a tiny groan at the back of his throat, he pulls back to study me. Swiping his thumb across my lower lip, he releases a pained exhale. We both know that kiss was utterly perfect.

It was the real thing. Some people just click—their chemistry or pheromones or something. The obvious strain at the front of his jeans is impossible not to notice. Holy erection! He clears his throat and leads me toward the door.

His hands thread through the hair at the back of my neck as he tilts my mouth to his. He explores my mouth with deep, drugging kisses as I writhe against him, desperate for more. The connection we shared tonight was more than physical. But nothing could have prepared me for this. The grinding of his hips against mine, the rigid length of his massive erection pressing right there. I want more. Growing need outweighs all common sense.

Hooking one leg around his waist, I pull us closer. He drags his hands up my sides, his touches changing from innocent to seductive as he palms my breasts, massaging them, grazing my pebbled nipples with his thumbs.

I suck in a breath at the sudden wash of heat rushing through me. Overcome with lust, I reach down to grip the firm bulge of his erection. With a grunt, he swears under his breath, pressing us even closer so that his hands are now on my ass and his thigh is pressed between my legs.

Ripping my mouth from his, I suck in a deep breath. He opens the door for me and leans against the frame while I slip my purse over one shoulder. His expression changes, and I see something dark pass through his gaze.

When I make it downstairs, the friendly doorman has a cab waiting for me. The word only serves to remind me that some other girl is soon going to be Mrs. Sterling Quinn.

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The thought is sobering. That kiss. The conversation. How much she affected me. Her soft, tempting curves, the way she shivered when I fondled her gorgeous breasts. I wanted more with her, to explore her body and make her cry out in pleasure.

I wanted to watch her come on my tongue, my fingers, my cock.

I get half-hard again just picturing it. Her head thrown back in ecstasy, her honey-colored hair spread across my pillow, those perfect pink lips crying out my name. When we make love, it will damn sure be on a bed where I can take my time with her. Or hard and fast, my hips driving my cock deep inside her over and over again. Maybe she likes a bit of both. That shit about her finding her lobster—I smile when I think of it.

A romantic. The basic human need for closeness has never felt so real. My hands pause in the dishwater. That was my one rule. I promised myself that under no circumstances would I fall for her. But I can already feel it happening. Pissed off at myself for possibly fucking up the one positive thing in my life right now, my friendship with Camryn, I throw the dishtowel onto the counter. I need to stay focused. I was ready to call off the entire wedding charade, just for a chance to sink into her warm body.

I can check on my mum too, and that always helps put my mind at ease. I grab my keys and stalk out into the night. Being here with her, reminding myself of my purpose, all of those things seem to help. Mum has a bandage on her arm where scratch marks from last night lay underneath.

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She looks around, her brows knitting together as she takes in the room around us. I set down my tea and take a deep breath. Do I really have to spell this out for you, Camryn? Before Olivia waddled in, I filled Anna in on what exactly hanging out with Sterling had entailed. Well, not everything.

Hot shame rushes through me. So unprofessional. But she does know we kissed. Releasing a satisfied sigh, I close my eyes. She meets her upstairs neighbor, Cohen, after tossing a wild football back to him, then again when she thought he'd followed her home. Being a bouncer at a club, a volunteer firefighter, and a student made Cohen the perfect man.

Except he was a virgin, waiting for the right woman after seeing how his mother was treated. Eliza and Cohen has became friends. Sleeping over at his house, in his bed, strictly platonic. Liz had realized that she was developing feelings for him and that scared the shit out of her. It was after a bad accident that smacked reality in her that she knew she was in love and needed to tell Cohen about her past. This entire book was wonderful to read.

Aiden and Ashlyn get married finally! In she left her job in corporate America to pursue writing full-time. Ryan has a passion for humanitarian work, particularity with disadvantaged children, and orphans. Adoption is a theme often explored in her books. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Kendall Ryan. Retrieved E-Book Fiction:One night right before dinner there's a knock on the door, Ashlyn answers to a gorgeous dark haired woman.

We did have some fun between the sheets, but being married, taking a wife—I need a hell of a lot more than someone fun in bed. He pushes his hands into his hair, looking eager, yet unsure. She shrugs. I have no doubt about that. When she finally learns his secret there's no telling which one is the real him, the gentle lover she's fallen for or the troubled man with a dark past.

They were on my dining table right before. She rises to her feet, and we meet her in the center of the room. I shift my weight, unable to think of what to say in this moment.