He caught her ass in his grip. Hiking her up against his groin, he held fast, wanting her beneath him and those perfect fucking legs wrapped around his hips.
She pulled away, panting. “One minute.” She held up her index finger. “I need to make sure Emmy’s asleep.”
She slipped from his hold. Fire scorched his veins. He dragged his hand over his face, his heart pumping like that of a caged animal. He’d completely forgotten the kid was in the next room. Even though he’d prefer to be alone so they could both let go completely, there was no way he’d walk away right now. He’d take Laine on the damn balcony if she was willing.
Laine came back, her lips slightly parted and her cheeks pink.
She launched herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. “Out cold,” she breathed.
It was the green light he needed.
The insideof Laine’s thighs dampened as Roarke lifted her. Outside the living room window, the sky was dark and lights twinkled over the cityscape. With his hand braced under her,Roarke hit the light switch on the wall to envelop them in shadows. The moonlight streaming through the glass doors offered just enough illumination.
Her hands roamed over his wide shoulders and stacked chest and up his bristly throat. God, she wanted him. Had wanted him for most of her adult life.
His tongue sank into her mouth, drilling desire through her nerve endings. She arched her back, needing his hands to explore her body. He dropped to the couch with her straddling his lap.
He caught the hem of her shirt and pulled the material over her head, revealing her bra. Then he cupped her ribcage, taking her in.
“Jesus, Lainie,” he murmured. “You’re so perfect.”
She slipped her hands beneath his T-shirt, reveling in the hard-earned wall of muscle. “I could say the same about you,” she whispered. She pushed up his shirt until he pulled it off.
Heat emanated from his massive chest. The light bounced off his rippled torso.
She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra.
His hands swept up her waist and palmed her breasts. He leaned in to nuzzle her neck, his beard rough and scratchy on her sensitive skin.
The slight abrasion made goosebumps dance down her body. He brought his mouth to her nipple and his hot, wet tongue tightened her core.
“Oh my god,” she sang.
He flicked his tongue over the nub until it turned pebble-hard, then moved to the other. She rocked on his lap, and the bulge in his pants created friction against her yoga pants.
“Roarke, I need you.” She clutched at his shoulders, her belly pressed against his.
An intense current of desire buzzed through her. Her clitoris ached for attention, and her folds throbbed and tingled with desperation.
He turned, spilling her onto the couch. “And I don’t want this to be over yet.” His voice cracked on the words, as if his restraint was slipping. “This has been a long time coming, baby.”
Grief cascaded through her. All this time, she should have been with Roarke. Had wanted him. Needed him. She’d thought she could move on—run away from that fateful night full of wishes and Christmas lights. At the time, getting involved with Roarke had seemed reckless.
The thick boundary of Roarke being Ollie’s best friend had lain between them, greater than an invisible line separating two countries.
But they’d been wrong to deny their feelings. They should have gone after what they’d wanted. Hearing him say he’d wanted this as long as she had made her heart ache. She couldn’t go back six years, couldn’t make different choices, but she could damn well choose Roarke now. Over and over again.
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants and tugged, then stopped when they were below her hips. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
Wiggling her legs, she pushed down her leggings farther. “If you stop now, I swear to god I’ll kill you.”
He laughed, yanking her pants from her ankles and tossing them to the floor. Only her black bikini panties covered her now.
He came down on top of her still wearing his jeans.
“Roarke,” she moaned. “Take these off.”
He nipped her earlobe, and the sensation of his teeth gently grazing her flesh made her toes curl. “Please,” she added, not giving a damn that she was all but begging him to fuck her into next week.
