Page 68 of Rush

He presses one final kiss to my hand before turning the engine on and putting the car into drive.

But he doesn’t let go of my hand the whole ride there.

“I had a really great time tonight.” I look across at Ares from the passenger seat of his darkened truck parked outside my apartment building, the shadows tracing his gorgeous face.

And I really did. The restaurant was perfect. The food was amazing. The company even better. We talked about nothing and everything. Then, after dinner, we went to the cinema and watched The Big Lebowski and laughed our asses off.

It was the perfect date.

And he was the perfect gentleman.

But, now, we’re at the part of the date where I don’t want him to be a gentleman anymore.

He reaches over and brushes my hair off my face, tucking it behind my ear. “I did, too. But it’s not over yet…is it?”

“Do you want to come in for…coffee?” I bite down on a smile.

His brow lifts. “Do I get sugar this time?”

“Oh, most definitely.”

We get out of his truck, and Ares wordlessly follows me up and into my building. His hand is on my lower back as we walk up the stairs toward my apartment. That one small place on my body where he’s touching, everything inside of me is focused directly there.

I can’t concentrate on anything but the feel of his fingers gently pressing into me.

It takes all my concentration just to get my keys out of my bag and unlock my front door, letting us in.

I close the door behind us. “So, about that coffee—”

The rest of the sentence is sucked right out of my mouth when I’m picked up and pressed against the door by a hot, hard football player as he kisses the hell out of me.

And it’s the wettest, dirtiest kiss I’ve ever had in my life.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he rumbles against my lips.

“Feel free to keep doing it,” I say breathlessly.

A deep chuckle thrums through his chest, lighting me up. “Bedroom?”

“That way.” I point.

Then, we’re moving, and this man mountain is carrying me to my bedroom while I cling to him like a spider monkey to a tree.

We reach my bed, and he lays me down on it. Standing there, one knee resting on the bed, he stares down at me.

“Fucking beautiful,” he says.

And my insides glow like I’m filled with a million lightning bugs.

He takes my heels off, one at a time, dropping them to the floor.

I remove my jacket, tossing it aside, and take off my necklace.

He holds his hand out for it. I give it to him, and he puts it on my nightstand. Then, he takes his wallet, cell, and car keys from his pocket and sets them beside it.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m spending the night.”

I raise a brow. “And if I don’t want you to?” I’m teasing. Of course I want him to stay over, but I need to exert some authority here.