‘You should’ve told me.’ My hands slide around his neck, his words rumbling through his chest and into mine. His reaction is so much better than I could ever have imagined, even if this is totally mortifying. And I’ve missed this. Being held. This is what I like best about relationships, I decide. The best thing about men. Right here, like this, being held in strong arms. Arms that would take on the world on your behalf.
‘Can you imagine if I’d told you all this before? Maybe after the cottage?’ The words are muffled against his skin, but not so much that he doesn’t laugh. ‘You’d have thought I was a nut.’
‘Yeah, well you sort of are. You did give me a fake name, after all.’Ouch. I feel myself physically cringe. ‘I knew there was something familiar about you.’
‘Because we’d met in the salon.’ I tilt back my head to really look at him. ‘Even if you pretended not to remember.’
‘Aye.’ He quirks a brow, kind of wickedly. ‘I told you, I was only playing along with what you wanted. But seriously, I remember thinking that I knew you from somewhere. I was even daft enough to wonder if you were the hotter sister of someone I’d already screw—well.’ He halts. ‘It wasn’t a very sensible thought and probably no’ worth repeating.’
‘And not very flattering.’
‘I mean it,’ he says, laughing softly. ‘It was like déjà vu.’
‘Déjà who the fuck are you, more like.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ he says, holding my face. ‘The elusive blue!’
‘So you remember me?’ I hate how small and hopeful my voice sounds.
‘Jesus wept, woman!’ he exclaims. ‘I know we’ve had some pretty spectacular sex, but I’m not likely to forget that night. I had’nae shaken so much since I’d lost my own virginity.’
Rory lets out a slow breath, his eyes raking over me, his expression leaving me in no doubt as to where his mind is. This could have gone so many ways given what has passed between us, and the way he’s looking at me is a reaction that gives me hope. Hope that we can do this thing.
‘I’ve thought about that night often.’ His voice is low and gravelly as his hands slip from my face to my shoulders.From my shoulders to my hips.
‘I tried not to for a long time. Mostly I failed.’
‘You were so sweet, Fin. So lovely. Like a ripe peach.’
‘Yeah,’ I say, laughing, as I press my hands against his chest and push. ‘I get the metaphor.’
It’s a weak attempt at movement, but allows his hands to slip under my oversized t-shirt. Skin on skin for the first time in months, I’m not sure whether it’s the brush of his calloused fingers or the look in his eyes that causes my stomach to flip. I sigh, my thighs giving way, pressing me against his lap.
‘You liked the tongue piercing?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘You didn’t have to, you dirty little girl.’ His husky voice and light touches tie my insides in taut, pleasurable knots.
‘I’m not sure you were ever a little boy,’ I say, gently rocking against him.
‘I’m no’ little right now.’ Hands still on my hips, he slides me against the hardness barely concealed by his cotton pyjama pants. ‘And I’m feeling very, very possessive.’
‘Yeah?’ His velvet, seductive tone has me fighting a full body collapse.
‘Yeah. My t-shirtandmy shorts.’ he growls. ‘I want them back.’ Suddenly, his fingers push the t-shirt up my body and pluck it from my head.And I’m not wearing anything under there.
‘It’s nice to share.’ My reply is low and throaty, the word pure reflection of his gaze. He looks hungry; like one wrong move and he’d inhale me on the spot.
‘But better to possess. God, you’re so lovely,’ he rasps. ‘You’re so...’ His gaze flicks from my chest to my face, my soft sigh drawing off as he leans forward, taking my nipple into his mouth. My whole body shakes, his tongue plucking pure sensation between my legs. ‘Sofucking edible,’ he hums, pushing me backwards and onto the bed.
‘You’re crazy,’ I half speak, half sigh.
‘And you love it,’ he replies, his body poised over mine, his expression an unholy sinful sight.
‘Oh God, I do,’ I say, smiling suddenly. Smiling and fighting back tears as I slide my hands around his neck again. ‘I love it and I love you, Rory.’
‘Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,’ he answers, his expression faltering; becoming serious. ‘You’ve been through so much and I can wait. In your own time.’
‘You don’t get it,’ I say, unable to hold back the flow. ‘My life was such a mess. I loved you, but couldn’t say. I couldn’t even admit it to myself.’
Then he covers me. Covers me with his body and kisses. He kisses my cheeks. My neck. The corners of my mouth. And then he kisses me—wholly. Absolutely. He kisses me like he’s a man possessed and I’m the one responsible.
And if that makes me the devil, I really don’t care.
My heart swells—I’m so full I could quite literally burst. I hold him tight, my hands in the nape of his neck. I’m crying and laughing, and suddenly, I’m staring up into his handsome face as he pulls back.
‘I wasn’t joking,’ he says, his voice strained. ‘I want my shorts back. Get ‘em off.’
