She’d enjoyed their time together, but it never had the depth she truly needed. He’d only been a diversion-as she’d been for him, probably. And now that she’d had a glimpse of what she really wanted, everything else paled in comparison.
The porch grew silent again as she and Rocco watched Bobby’s truck drive away. She turned slightly and caught Rocco’s gaze. She should have looked away, should have hurried about her business. She should have done anything other than let her gaze linger with his, watch the anger leave his face, to be replaced by the dark hunger that filled the void. She crossed her arms in front of her.
“Is it over between you and Rodeo?”
She sighed. “It’s not as simple as that.”
“Then break it down for me.”
“We went to school together. He was a few years ahead of me. A while back, we ran into one another again. We were about the only ones who still lived in the area who hadn’t settled down. He was busy with his touring. I was busy with my studies and working on my plans for this center. Our relationship was convenient. It worked. Neither of us was ready to commit to a permanent situation. I never saw him as selfish, but I guess that’s because I was as self-centered as he was. We both got what we wanted and gave nothing of ourselves in return. It’s kind of sad, really.”
Rocco stepped closer, moving at an angle. She backed up until the banister stopped her. “So is it over?” he repeated.
“Yes.”
“I don’t share my toys. And I don’t play nice with others.”
Mandy lifted her chin. “I’m not a toy.”
Something changed in his expression. Hardened. His eyes went glacial. The planes of his face grew rigid. He bent down close to her and spoke through clenched teeth.
“No, you’re not. You know what you are?” he asked in a quiet voice. She braced herself for all the cutting things he would say, shocked by how much his opinion would affect her.
“You are sunshine and moonlight, laughter and joy, a life lived entirely without fear. You heard the call of a dream and made it a reality. You are everything I believed I was fighting for all those years.”
He straightened. His features had once again aligned themselves into his standard, implacable mask. Mandy’s heart skipped a beat. No one had ever said anything so lovely to her. She reached up and took hold of his face.
“You are a beautiful man, Rocco Silas.”
He drew her into an embrace. Mandy wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his chest. This was like their dance last night. He did not take from her, but gave to her-his strength, his courage.
“I will not share you, Mandy. But if you prefer him to me, or prefer any other to me, I will step aside.”
She drew back to look at him. “I don’t prefer him.” Or any other, she added to herself.
He looked at her for a long moment. She could see shadows in his eyes and wondered what thoughts he had that he couldn’t-or wouldn’t-share with her.
Chapter 10
Rocco came to a full stop in Mandy’s kitchen that evening. She wore a short skirt of layered ruffles and a button down white shirt. And those same damned short boots she’d had on last night. Her legs were bare. He knew how soft they were, and he ached, instantly, to run his hands along their smooth, velvety length.
“You going out tonight?” he bit out.
She sent him a look as she brought dishes to the table. “No.”
He crossed his arms. “Then who’s coming over?”
“No one.” Her face was guileless, which heightened his suspicions.
“Then why are you all dressed up?”
She faced him. Christ, that was unnerving. He’d rather be out in front of a hidden Taliban sniper than Kit’s sister standing so close, so soft, so open.
“Rocco,” she said with a little, feminine laugh that raised the hairs on his neck and shot blood to his groin. “You really know nothing about women, do you? Sometimes, for no reason at all, we like to look nice. To feel pretty. Are you hungry?”
Belatedly, he realized she was gesturing toward the table. Fuck yeah, he was hungry. But not for dinner.
Rocco took a step, and then another, stalking forward with only one intent in his mind. When he stood before her, he still moved in, forcing her to step back until her hips met the edge of the counter.
He lifted her up to the cold surface. Her breathing was fast and shallow, matching his. Her eyes were wide and dark, like a forest beckoning with its hidden paths and secret treasures. He spread her legs and stepped between them. When she lifted her hands to his shoulders, he pulled them down and set them flat against the counter, giving her a slow shake of his head.
He bent slightly, nearly touching the curve of her neck as he stroked her calves. Christ Almighty, she was luscious. He knew his hands were rough, calloused from his work. He should worry that it offended her, but he didn’t care. He stroked slowly, slowly upward. She was the only one he could touch. He’d missed having physical contact with a woman. His mind was fucked, but he trusted hers-if the phantom flesh showed up for real, she would tell him. And unless she said it was there, he was safe. He could trust. Could indulge.
He drew his hands up and over her tiny knees, so little they fit in his palms, so different from his bulky joints. He spread her legs a little farther, watching as his hands smoothed up over her thighs. His skin was dark against her pale skin. He pushed the edge of her skirt higher, up to her hips, revealing the delicate white panties she wore, more lace than garment.
He dragged his gaze up to meet hers, watching her face as he stroked his hands slowly back down to her knees, letting his thumbs drag against the soft inside of her thighs. Her lips parted. She arched toward him. He leaned in, feeling her rise to meet him like a magnet connecting with its other half. He did not let their mouths touch. Instead, he dipped his mouth down to the corner of her jaw, almost close enough to touch her. He drew a deep breath, scenting the perfume of her skin, sweetened by nothing other than her natural scent and the barest hint of jasmine. He knew she felt the draw of air against her cheek, for she sucked in a sharp breath and pushed against him, nuzzling him, aching, as he did, to consummate their kiss.
He lifted a hand to stroke her core, touching her only through her panties, teasing her with what they both wanted. The fabric was damp with her desire, her clitoris swollen. He stroked and rubbed, playing her body. She pressed against his hand.
“Rocco, please-”
“No. You get no say in this. It is my time, my joy to give. You just have to take it.” His nose was against hers, his lips hovering above hers, their words a fevered breath shared between their mouths.
She grabbed hold of his face, her fingers splayed against his cheeks. “I want you. Now. All of you! Please!”
He smiled as he deepened the pressure against her. “Later. This is only an appetizer. Come. Come for me. Let go.” And she did. Crying out. Aching for more.
When Mandy’s screaming nerves slowly settled down, she was still starved for him. And judging from the size of the bulge in his jeans, he was in a similar condition. She stroked him. A muscle bunched in his jaw. “I want you. Now. I want to finish this.”
He took her hands and kissed her knuckles. “Soon. We’ve dinner to eat.”
“I don’t care about dinner.”
“I do. You worked hard on it.”
Mandy looked at the table, feeling absolutely no appetite for the meal. “Please, Rocco.”
“The best things in life should be savored, slowly.” He stepped back and lifted her off the counter. She stood before him, completely at his beck and call. “Take your panties off.”
“But we’re going to eat-”
He arched a brow at her. He had something delicious in mind-she could see it in his face. Unable to resist him, she drew the lacy underwear down her legs, kicking off her boots to step out of them.
