There’s something between us. Last night, in the tent. Tonight, at the dance.
“Good—”
“Do you want to come up?”
We stare at each other in shock. I didn’t mean for those words to come out. Once again, I’ve panicked, and now Angus is staring at me as though I’ve vomited on his favourite pair of hiking boots.
“Up?” he repeats.
I clear my throat. “Um. Yeah. You know. To my room.”
Get it together, Rowan. You’re embarrassing yourself, the voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like Marnie says.
“Rowan.” Angus says my name so softly, it sounds like a prayer. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
“Yes.”
He takes a step closer, a wicked smile caressing his lips. “No, lass. That’s not good enough.” Angus and I are chest to chest now, and I have to tilt my head back to keep my gaze on his. “You’re going to have to use a few more words than that.”
“Angus, I—”
“Yes?”
He trails a knuckle softly down my cheek, and every part of me pulses in response. The air between us is laced white-hot with tension, as though we have both been struck by lightning.
I wet my lips. This is it. Now. Now is the time to be brave.
“Angus, I want you to fuck me.”
Angus bites back a groan so deep I’m surprised I can’t feel it in the ground. My centre flutters in response. His hand curves around the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
“Good girl.”
Fuck. Arousal sweeps over me in a wave. My knees buckle and I’d stumble if Angus’ other arm wasn’t around my waist, even as his lips meet mine in a kiss that sets my entire body alight.
I’ve been kissed before. Many times. In bedrooms and bathrooms, in bars and on beaches, by men I was in love with and men I’d just met, and it has been hot, and steamy, and sexy and everything in between.
But it has never been anything like this.
When Angus’ lips touch mine, it is as if I’ve come alive for the very first time. As if I’ve been sleeping all my life and I’ve finally woken up. His is the taste I’ve been hungering for without even knowing.
I return his kiss as though I’m drowning, and he is air.
His lips slide over mine, hot and soft and supple, and I moan into them, digging my fingers into his arms. The muscles are hard, and when he pulls me closer, I feel the strength of them.
He draws away and I bite back a whine.
“We should go upstairs.”
He sounds as breathless as I feel.
“Yes.” It’s hard to form words. My thoughts are consumed by the fire burning at my centre, my need to be touched.
We stumble inside the hotel lobby, barely glancing at anyone else as we make our way towards the stairs. Up one floor, and a right, walking as quickly as we can without running. I tug Angus along, his hand in mine, but as we near my door, I slow, nervous, and stop outside.
Angus rests his hands on either side of my hips and looks at me seriously.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Rowan? I can turn around now and leave you alone. No hard feelings.”
