“Okay.”
Rory waited until a new song started before he began moving sensuously toward her. When her eyes widened in consternation, Killyama yelled out, “Now, that’s what I’m talking about! Show us how it’s done!”
Placing one hand on the back of the chair, he leaned down to nuzzle her neck as he twisted his pelvis and turned to the beat of the music. Looking at her through his lashes, he barely maintained his composure when her cheeks went bright red.
Straightening, he jerked his hips back and forth, just inches away from her face. Reaching down, he reached for her hands to place them on the waistband of his jeans where the button was. “Unbutton my jeans.”
Jewell stood straight up, knocking the chair backward. “Show’s over.” Grabbing his hand, she left the other women bursting in laughter and calling him back.
She slammed the door behind them and gave him a dirty look. “Were you going to strip in front of them?” she yelled.
“No, I was just going to pretend to.”
Jewell clearly didn’t believe him. “Pretend? If I had unbuttoned your jeans, your dick would have come out! Do you have a fucking death wish?”
“The door was locked; none of them would have told.”
“I’m the one you should be scared of.” Jabbing a finger into his chest, she stared at him furiously. “You can show your chest. Anything else requires my approval.”
He grabbed her forearms to turn her until her back was to the door. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “You try that shit again, I … I’ll …”
“You’ll do what, Firefly?” Slowly, he started rolling her top upward.
“I don’t know,” she moaned out when he started to nuzzle the valley between her breasts. “But it will hurt,” she threatened, only to squeal when he picked her up until she was staring down at him.
“You make me so fucking happy.”
Her expression grew serious. “I do?”
He lowered her until she was back to eye level, her feet still off the floor. “You fucking do.” His expression grew just as serious. Holding her, he turned to drop her down on the bed then began removing his clothes. “I think you’re ready to begin my master classes.”
“I think you’re going to be the one to learn a thing or two,” she countered. “Let’s have a fuck-off and see who’s better.”
Rory placed his knee on the mattress between her thighs. “I’m game.” He let his body loom over hers to push her back onto the mattress.
“What’s the prize?” She wound her arms around his neck to pull him down with her.
“We are. The loser has to do anything the winner wants for a whole day.”
Rory gave a low moan when Jewell beckoned him closer by rubbing her tits on his chest.
“This might just be a game I might not give it my all.”
Rory wasn’t deceived by her kittenish behavior.
“It won’t work,” he warned her.
“What won’t?”
“Pretending that you’re not going to try hard.”
“What makes you think I’m pretending?”
“You think Reaper and The Last Riders saved you after you lost your son. They didn’t. You saved yourself. You don’t know how to lose.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Rolling over, Jewell placed a light kiss on Rory’s lips.
“Arin’s here. I’m going to take a shower and go see her.”
“I’m right behind you,” he said groggily.
“Stay in bed. We’re just going to be catching up. I’ll wake you when I come back.”
“I want to shower with you,” he mumbled.
“No. You’ll make me keep Arin waiting.”
“Then I won’t if you insist.”
Jewell just shook her head at the sound of him snoring. She was almost tempted to wake him to shower with her just to get him to admit he wasn’t capable of moving.
Losing track of time, she just sat there, watching him sleep, committing the way he looked to memory. The thought of Rory leaving soon spurred her into getting in the shower.
She turned the hot water on and luxuriated in the warmth that eased the aches and sore muscles. Every day, her fear was growing worse of how bad it was going hurt when he left. She could lessen the damage by not spending so much time with him. Each time she told herself that, the other side of her said it wasn’t going to hurt as bad as losing Michael, and if she had survived that, she could anything. Yet, as the days passed, doubts were creeping in that she wouldn’t.
Turning the water off, Jewell dried herself off then dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a sweatshirt she had swiped out of Rory’s closet. Pulling on her shoes, she left Rory’s room to go in search of Arin.
Texting her to save time, Jewell went upstairs to find Arin sitting at the kitchen table with a knowing smile on her lips.
“Here I come all this way to see you, and you put doing the nasty over me.”