coffee table. “Honestly, Rory? None of this comes under my responsibilities for my job or my contract. You’re right. I have to trust that what’s being done is being done correctly. Or at least if I find something that doesn’t look right, make sure someone else knows about it.”

He glanced at the time, hating the evening was coming to an end. He didn’t have a shift the next day but knew she’d have to be at work. The dinner had been so comfortable, everything he would’ve wanted it to have been. Standing together, she led the way back into the kitchen where they rinsed the dishes in the sink and put away the leftovers. Working side-by-side, he loved how natural the simple action felt. Something he’d seen his parents do a million times over the years.

He led the way to her front door, then turned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Giving her power, she had no problem taking the initiative by lifting her hands, clutching his jaws, and pulling him in for a kiss. Like the other kisses they’d shared, this one flamed hot. But unlike previous times, he wasn’t sure he could douse the flames.

He lifted her into his arms, and she threw her legs around his waist. He could swear he felt her heat pressed against his cock. Noses bumped and tongues tangled as the kiss grew wilder. Just when he tried to prepare for the coolness that he knew would overtake him when he set her back to the floor, she clutched him tighter.

She leaned back slightly, her face only a few inches from his, her lips kiss-swollen and her breath coming in pants. “I… I want you to…” Her face scrunched, and she gave a tiny shake of her head. “Shut up, Grandmother.”

Jerking, he stared, uncertain he heard her correctly. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, nothing! Ignore that. It’s just that I want you to stay. Here. Tonight. With me. Stay with me tonight.”

Grinning at her flustered flurry of words, he wanted to make sure he understood. “What exactly are you asking, Sandy?”

She wiggled slightly, and he set her feet on the ground, fully expecting her to retract her offer.

She swallowed deeply, twisted her hands in front of her, and never lost hold of his gaze. “I want you. I haven’t… um… done this in a long time. I haven’t met anyone that I wanted to be with. I want you to stay here tonight with me. That is… if you want to.”

He tried to keep from shouting hallelujah but managed to just smile instead. “I’ll stay. But only on one condition.” He watched her brow furrow and a specter of uncertainty moved through her eyes. Lifting his hand, he cupped her cheek and swept his thumb over her soft skin. “We have to agree on what this is.”

“This?”

“Us. What we’re doing. I don’t want any misunderstanding in the morning.”

She nodded slowly as though resignation was settling, causing her smile to slip. “Oh… yeah… sure—”

“This is no one-night fuck, Sandy. We’ve already started you and me, and this will just solidify that commitment. But I can’t stay here and sleep with you if you’re not on the same page.”

A little gasp slipped from between her lips. “I’m on the same page,” she vowed, nodding rapidly, a hopeful gleam now back in her eyes.

He leaned behind him and flipped the lock on the front door before holding his hand out. She looked down at his hand before linking fingers with him. Grinning, she led him up the stairs.

17

As Sandy led Rory to the top of the stairs toward her bedroom, she was glad he was behind her and couldn’t see her flushed face. A moment earlier her grandmother’s words had sounded in her head, “A lady never propositions a man—”, and she immediately blurted out to keep the words from interfering. He must’ve thought I was a nutcase!

Blowing out a deep breath as they entered her room, she turned, suddenly nervous. For all her charm and flirting, she’d never brought a man to her house. Her last relationship, if it could be called that, was a disaster. She hadn’t felt comfortable with him, and he wanted more than she was willing to offer. She simply found it easier to not get involved. But now, looking up at Rory’s face, she wanted to be completely involved.

“I… um…” she began, her fingers fiddling at the bottom of her shirt.

As though he knew she was nervous, he stepped closer and whispered, “Just kiss me.” That she knew she could do.

She lifted her hands and placed them on his shoulders as he cupped her cheeks, guiding her face toward his. Their lips met and a warmth spread through her, building until tingles moved throughout her core. Her fingers pressed into his shoulders, and her manicured nails dug slightly into the muscle. His hands glided from her cheeks and one moved over her back, pressing her tightly against him while the other pulled the chopsticks from her messy bun, allowing the thick waves to tumble in a waterfall down her back.

With her hair free, his fingers now dove through her tresses, cupping the back of her head. That gentle pressure controlled the angle of their kiss, and she willingly gave that power to him. She instinctively knew that Rory would take care of her in all ways.

His tongue glided over hers, and she pressed her legs together, the desire for friction building deep inside her core. Much to her surprise, he broke the kiss and stepped back. Before she could ask what was wrong, he pulled off his sweater, and her eyes feasted on the tight, gray undershirt that molded to his muscles. Before she could completely commit that scene to memory, he grabbed a handful of material and jerked it over his head, tossing it onto the floor as well.

He stepped closer again and reached for the bottom of her shirt, slowly and carefully drawing it up

Вы читаете Rory: Hope City, Book 7
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