Again with the small sentences weighty with meaning.
‘Hmph.’ Because there really isn’t a lot else I can say to that, not without occupying his mouth otherwise.Like pulling it against mine.‘H—how come you’re not finished here?’ I wave my hand in the vague direction of the garden lying beyond the house. ‘I thought you were only going to be here a couple days.’
‘Why, Fin, are you trying to get rid of me?’
Heaven protect me against a man who can roll his r’s, because I know whatthatparticular vibration feels like—what it elicits—somewhere sensitive.
Rory steps closer and I take a step back, my heart absolutely skipping a beat as my butt comes up solidly against the car door. The whole scene runs in slow motion as he slides his hands from his pockets, placing his palms flat against the roof of the car, boxing me in.
‘I’m gonna be here a while longer.’ He’s so close that his sensual threat fans against my warm cheeks. His gaze slides the length of my body; my skin coming to life under the attention.Hisintentions. ‘Think you can deal with that?’ His eyes slip to my lips as I inhale, trying to find a reply, though unable to summon words. ‘You see, I had plans for Saturday. Big plans. Unfortunately, they didn’t go as I’d liked them to have...’ As he hesitates, I hold my breath, almost positive I’ll hear him whispertitch, because it’s just that kind of tone. When he doesn’t, the disappointment almost stings.
‘Oh?’ I imagine my eyebrows are comically high as I attempt to school my expression.
‘Yeah.’ One word expelled in barely a breath; it could mean anything. But as he leans closer, I think it means he’s going to kiss me. And that despite my posturing, I’ll let him. And that I’ll probably also let him bend me over the hood about five minutes following that.
My heart beats staccato and I actually squeak when he leans closer, his lips narrowly avoiding mine, gliding past my ear as he does a sort of mini push-upagainst the car... propelling himself upright.And further out of my dance space than I’d currently like.
‘But like you say, I’ve got work to do. I suppose I’d better get my arse into gear.’
I don’t have any words, certainly not intelligent ones, my mind slipping to just that. His ass. Getting into gear. Preferably over me.
‘Have you got something in your eye?’ A smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he asks.
‘What? N—no. Why do you ask?’
‘You’re just doin’ an awful lot of blinking.’
‘I was just thinking,’ I reply with a dash of asperity, hopefully directing him in the opposite direction to where my mind had wandered.
‘Of something good, I hope.’ Again with the sexy-as-fuck gravelly tone.
‘Just about work,’ I snap.
‘I think that was my cue,’ he says, now through a smile. Hands back in his pockets, he makes to turn away.
‘Wait—’ I hold out my hand, dropping it just as quick. ‘What were you doing in there?’ I gesture to the stable block behind him, in particular, the little house where I’ve been camping out.
‘Now there’s a question,’ he says with a smirk I want to kiss—I mean kick—right off his face.
‘Yes, I’m aware it was a question. I’d posed it as such.’ I fold my arms like armour against that smirk. ‘Social convention dictates that an answer usually follows.’
Rory inhales deeply, his shoulders rising and falling as though he’s considering the merits of just this as he tips his head, his gaze falling to the ground. But I’m not paying much attention to any of these things; actions that barely register as my consciousness is consumed by other things.
Like how, as he inhales, the t-shirt he’s wearing under his plaid shirt draws tight across his chest, defining those full and hard pecs beneath. Like how, right now, I want to slide my hands under those garments and over his flesh. Like how I’d slide myself, and my tongue, further down. I already know his flesh to be tan, warm and firm, and I know his shirt will smell heavenly as I bury my nose in the worn fabric.Laundry detergent. Sandalwood and man.
His laugh, husky and low, settles between my thighs, bringing my head up from the general vicinity of his nipples at the same time. My synapses must be dawdling as I take in his dark, lustrous gaze, eventually noticing his smile.
I’ve known men who were handsome. Men whose good looks provided them with a substantial living strutting the catwalks of New York to Milan. Men with the physiques to rival Greek gods, with smiles said to be devastating. But none of these men had anything on Rory, because right now, the way he looks at me is almost annihilating.
My heart bangs against my ribcage as I close my eyes and swallow over a few silent truths. Like the fact that he’s goading and annoying, and that for those reasons alone, I shouldn’t want to lie down and open my legs.
And there’s the small matter of my being at work today.
Holy hell, I’ll probably be in need of a chastity belt while we’re both working within a square mile range.
‘You want to know what I was doing back there.’ His tone is all good whisky and warm honey as he gestures to the building in question. I answer with a nod. Twice. ‘In the name of social convention?’ Definitely. ‘And societal norms?’
‘Yes.’ My answer hits the air with anger and anticipation.Eager much?
