If he gave the all-clear, I might’ve fantasized a few dozen times about what we could get up to.
If his interest hadn’t waned.
I scrubbed my face and then picked up the spatula, pushing around the mushrooms sizzling on the skillet with some wine as I prepared alate dinner. He was coming straight from work, so chances were he hadn’t eaten yet. If I wanted to impress him a little with my skill in the kitchen, then that was my business.
The time ticked down faster than I was prepared for, and the chicken cooked to perfection in the marsala sauce I’d made, fluffy rice already prepared in a different bowl. God, what if he found this lame, or way too much effort for a casual hang? I hadn’t specified what the fuck we were doing tonight, though I sure as fuck wouldn’t turn down sex if it was on the table. Even the thought had my cock stiffening. It was a reflex with the amount of gay porn I’d consumed the past week.
Hell, it was a reflex because I hadn’t come in weeks. And while I wasn’t a slave to sex by any means, I’d gone from a sexless marriage where no one got close enough to spark the attention anyway to experiencing that chemistry all. The. Time.
A knock sounded at the door, and my heart took off.
I turned the burner off and sauntered over to the door. God, I hadn’t experienced these sorts of nerves since I was in high school and had first asked Susie out. Was this what dating would be like? Just having to go through this panic every damn time?
I hated it already. Stability was something I liked—craved—even if it made me a little boring to past friends, to my brothers and my parents.
And yet I found myself drawn to my complete opposite.
I tugged the door open and swallowed my tongue.
Rory wore a backwards baseball cap and a tank under his open jacket, his black jeans shredded at the knees. Those blue eyes were so intense I could drown in them, his lashes long and dark, and damn, that pouty mouth. I remembered how good it felt pressed against mine. What would he look like stripped down and begging? Ngh.
Heat flared through me, and my feet moved closer to him before I could catch myself.
What was I going to do, kiss him?
“Hey,” he said, his eyes blown with the same lust percolating through his veins.
“Fuck,” I murmured, my voice coming out hoarse. He licked his lips nice and slow, those gorgeous eyes pleading. I wasn’t immune.
I leaned in and kissed him.
The taste of him was everything I’d been craving for a week now—mint gum and something intrinsically Rory. I wrapped my hand around his nape, licking into his mouth as I deepened the kiss. Fire lit me up inside, coursing from head to toe. God, the anxiety that had bubbled up within me dissipated like a spring breeze. Kissing Rory was addictive in a way I wasn’t used to. I wasn’t someone controlled by impulses, but he’d become my exception.
Rory let out a soft moan, his palm pressed against my chest, resting there. I gripped his hips, drawing him in even closer until no space existed between us as I savored the taste of him, the feel of him against me, the emotions he stirred inside me. A crisp, indefinable scent always lingered around him, but I drank it in, savoring every detail. The heat that sparked between us was the sort I hadn’t realized I’d been missing while married to Susie—a wildfire so fierce it almost terrified me.
When I pulled back, his chest heaved, and his lips looked even more gorgeous spit-slicked. I nipped at his lower lip and then, my hand still on his hip, guided him into my apartment.
“Well, that was one hell of a greeting,” he said. The grin that crinkled his eyes was so genuine my heart stutter-stopped.
“Sorry?” I said, even though I wasn’t.
“Nah, greet me like that anytime you like.” He wandered past me and into my kitchen, not even waiting for the tour. I liked how free hefelt in my space, how he made himself comfortable wherever he went. Rory stepped up to the stove. “Did you make food? That smells damn delicious.”
“Figured you might be hungry.”
“Fuck me,” he swore, and then he glanced up, a wicked light in his eyes. “Though I wouldn’t be opposed to that either.”
Well, damn. He’d answered that question. I couldn’t help but follow him, sliding into his space as if the pull to him was magnetic. “Why don’t we eat first? Better to build up stamina, right?” My voice came out husky with the sheer amount of lust I pinned back.
I reached past him to tug open the cabinet, my arm grazing his shoulder in the process as I grabbed two plates. His breath hitched, and fuck, any wait would be agonizing. Especially with the sheer amount he’d been starring in my fantasies as of late. However, I needed the time to adjust to having him in my apartment, to accept that this was happening. The night at the club felt like a dream, one I hadn’t been sure existed, yet this? This was real in a whole different way. Intimate beyond just the physical.
“You do realize if you want to fuck me tonight, I’ll be eating light?” Rory said, leaning against the counter. His eyebrow was cocked, and his eyes glittered with the wicked expression I’d fast become enamored with.
I blinked for a second, registering his bluntness. “Well, I’ll be honest. I had no clue about that.” I moved on automatic, setting out plates and silverware at the kitchen table I’d built myself after I started renting here.
“I’ll forgive you if you promise to dick me down good,” Rory teased as he batted his lashes.
Fuck. He was aggressive in the best sort of way, which cut through any of the dithering or self-doubts that had been plaguing me earlier.The worries that I was too boring didn’t even stand a chance against his searing gaze.
