No Saint (Wild Men 6)

“Let’s eat some s’mores,” he says determinedly and I know this conversation is shelved. “Before they get burned.”

“Can’t let these professional s’mores burn,” I agree. “Even if winter is coming.”

One day I hope he feels comfortable enough to tell me about all his fears, all his weaknesses, and realize they are strengths in my eyes. All he’s had to overcome to be here today. That he really is beautiful inside and out. I hope to convince him of all that, just like he convinced me.

But for now, watching him eat s’mores will have to do...

***

Later, bellies full and lips sweet with sugar, we stumble together into the house, Buddy following us, sniffing every corner. You’d think he’s never been inside before.

“Buddy, stay. You’re not sleeping on the bed again.”

Buddy barks and sticks by Ross’s side, tongue lolling.

“Aw he’s worried I will hurt you...” I bend to scratch him behind the ears.

“She can’t hurt me, Buddy,” Ross tells him. “Got it? She won’t. She likes me.”

“I do like him, doggy. Got it?” I pat the small furry head. “Always looking after Ross, aren’t you? You’re special.”

“But I’m your special guy,” Ross mutters, grabbing me around the waist and dragging me into the bedroom, making me laugh. “Right?”

“You competing with Buddy, now?”

“Always and with everyone, when it comes to you.”

I laugh again, but as his smile fades and his eyes lock with mine, I have to rise on tiptoes and kiss him. “Nobody can ever compete with you.”

“Mmm,” he breathes, “good, that’s good. God, you’re sweet.”

“So are you.”

“S’mores, baby.”

“I like.”

He grins wickedly against my mouth. “I’ll give you s’more.”

I laugh. “That was so cheesy.”

“You like my cheesy lines.”

“I like everything about you,” I whisper, overcome with happiness.

“Compliments will get you on your back.”

“Ross!”

But I’m already landing on my back, as promised, and he’s tearing at my clothes like they’ve personally offended him. I feel my bra tear at the seams, then my panties. He doesn’t always get so rough, but tonight, it seems, he just can’t help it.

“You okay?” I whisper, getting a bit concerned.

“Okay? God. You have no fucking idea how sexy you are when eating s’mores, do you? All that finger licking and moaning with pleasure... Driving me crazy. A guy can only take that much.”

“So you’ve been hard all evening?”

“Fuck, yeah.” He shivers when I put my hands on the front of his jeans, stroking my palm over the hard evidence of his desire, then start flicking the buttons open. He’s gazing down at me as I work to get him naked, eyes dark with lust, lips parted. When my hands fall still, he growls and quickly shoves his jeans down.