He chuckles. “I was thinking of something more romantic, but whatever works for you.”
I return his laughter, but I’m sure I sense something in him, the way there’s something in me I’m holding back. But whereas I know what mine is – hidden lust, concealed need, his could be anything.
Reaching across the table, he takes my hand in his. His thumb moves over my knuckles, sending tickling feelings up and down my forearm.
“We need to get you someplace quiet after this,” he says, voice getting deep and breathy. “I’m dying to kiss you again.”
“Really?” I murmur.
“Really,” he growls. “And you never have to ask me that, never again… never have to wonder if I really want you. I couldn’t not want you, Rachel.”
“Is this…”
I trail off, not wanting to venture into that territory. The closer we get to sex or even sex talk, the nearer I am to the big embarrassment I’m trying to hide.
“What, Rachel?”
I sigh. However I feel about it, I need to know.
“Is this a fling? A quick hookup?”
He leans back, letting go of my hand, making me feel rejected, even if that’s ridiculous. “Is that what you want?”
“No,” I firmly say before I can think about concealing the depth of my feelings. “But I need to know.”
“I wasn’t lying when I told you I hadn’t dated in over ten years. And even then, it was only one date, and I felt nothing. I meant what I said, how I felt more with you on an online chat than I ever have.”
“That’s not an answer,” I mutter.
He takes my hand again, making my chest flutter.
Every time he touches me feels like the first time.
“No, Rachel, this isn’t a quick hookup. I’m not trying to dupe you. But I will lose my mind if I have to go much longer without kissing you.”
I gesture to his food, my lips stretching into a broad smile, my cheeks aching with their intensity. “You better eat fast, then.”
I don’t think about what comes after kissing.
I don’t think about disappointing my man.
I can’t.
One step at a time.
That’s how I have to take it.
And just hope I don’t walk off the edge of a freaking cliff.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ryland
“Did you have a good evening, boy?”
I lean against the doorway in the spare room – basically Rusty’s room – as Rachel kneels next to the dog and runs her hand through his fur. Rusty curls up, one eye blinking open, making a huffing noise when Rachel stands and turns to me.
All through dinner – and then the ride back to my apartment – I’ve been fighting the deep burning inside of me. I’ve been struggling against the avalanche of need repeatedly crashing through me each moment.
Rusty kept us civil in the elevator, even as my hand lingered on the small of her back, temptingly close to her ass. Her ass… in those wet-looking jeans, each cheek is clad tightly, a round and gorgeous sight, making me want to indulge like the wild animal she’s making me into.
Now, she leaves the room, stopping a few inches short of me and giving me the cutest, most innocent look.
“He’s such a well-behaved dog,” she says.
“He was wild when I first got him,” I reply.
“Really?”
“A real crazed beast.” I move closer to my woman, wondering if she knows I’m describing how she makes me feel. “He couldn’t settle down. It took a lot of work and training, but now he’s comfortable enough to relax. He doesn’t have to keep running anymore.”
She reaches up and places her hand on my chest. There’s something so adorably sexy about the way she does it like it’s a big moment for her.
Her fingernails jab into my chest when she squeezes down. I slide my hands down her sides and press onto her hips, one of the most addictive parts of her curvy body.
They’re so wide, as though made to bring my children into this world.
“Finally,” I say, leaning down toward her. “I didn’t think I’d ever get you all to myself.”
She whimpers as I bring my lips to hers. She makes that particular sound, that gorgeous combination of shock, lust, and insecurity. There’s something beneath it, too, something like confidence trying to break free.
Just like last time, her nerves are drowned out by her desire. It’s so goddamn hot, the way she transitions from nervous to heated, like a force in her body compels her as much as the force in my body does.
Both her hands are looped around my shoulders.
Sinking deeper into the kiss, I glide my hands to her ass. I squeeze and press and massage, indulging shamelessly, giving them the attention they deserve when they’re so curvy and round and full.
“Oh, God,” she moans when I slip one hand around, wedging it between our bodies, getting closer to her pussy.
She shivers against me, staring up with wide eyes. “Is your bedroom….”