But the thought now in his head sent another hot pulse of blood south to the juncture of his thighs, where he could feel the tension building between them and tightening his stones.
As if she could sense the heat building in him, her eyes, too, dropped to their shared clasp, as his fingers held hers.
“Rose, I—”
She pushed up onto her toes and slid her other hand around his neck to pull him down, where she pressed her lips to his. The heat building within him blasted like a flare on a dark night, and he stood dumbly, not returning the kiss, not doing anything at all, too shocked at finally getting what he’d not been able to stop thinking about. She dropped back to the flats of her feet, and a blush raged across her face as she took in his blank expression. And misinterpreted it.
“Oh God…I’m sorry,” she said, yanking her hand free from his. “Jeezus, okay, I feel like an idiot now.” She swiveled on her heel to leave.
Stop her,that ruler-thumping angel on his shoulder ordered him, since he seemed too daft to do anything but stand there.
His resolve tore with delayed reaction. As she walked out of reach, he snagged her wrist and twisted her back around. She collapsed against the metal drawers and let her backpack slip off her arm to thud on the floor. Stunned, she stared at him. He stared at her.
“Don’t leave,” he said, his voice low and gravelly with emotion threatening to burst from him as he gripped her hips to anchor her in front of him.
With no further thought, he sank hard into a kiss of his own, bracing her beneath him. He’d been going mad thinking about her. But that little flinch from his kiss last night had imbued him with caution. His leash of control snapped now. She gasped into his mouth. He swallowed every ounce of the sound, feeling the hard ridges of her hip bones beneath his palms as he laved his tongue into her mouth. But then her hands drifted up his chest, palming his pecs. Was she going to push him away? He stepped back, anticipating the shove, and his mouth broke away from hers. Hot moisture coated his lips. He dared not taste it now and wish for more when he might have offended her.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked, his turn now to apologize. “I guess I read more into your kiss than you intended—”
She shook her head with such a frown he worried he’d done more than overstep his bounds, when she grabbed hold of his neck and dragged him back down to her and arched into him as he arched over her. He groaned. And fell over the precipice with her, sinking back into the kiss she finally offered.
He tasted that moisture now. Drank it in. Her mouth tasted like a hint of toothpaste and an overtone of sweet tea. Fresh. Her lips were so soft, so plump beneath his, and all his focus honed in on their taste and feel. He leaned closer, his groin pressing against her, pushing her tightly to the drawers, and an unconscious buck of his hips rocked against her as he rubbed his hardened prick against her stomach. It felt so good. Hot pleasure lapped at him. Another day of celibacy suddenly sounded like torture, when a year of it before had been manageable.
No. He was moving way too fast. He eased himself back off of her. She whined a complaint, and he felt her hands drift down to his hips to pull him back. Jeezus, was she asking for what he thought she was? She wanted him pinning her to the drawers as he had pinned her to the wall in her little camper, teasing her? His mouth ripped away from hers, and he trailed his teeth and lips down her cheek, scoring her sweet skin and nipping her neck, then her earlobe. There was no teasing now. This was serious. Determined. Unlike that morning in her camper when he knew he’d turned her on or that delicious heat that had simmered while they danced, this was scorching. This was an inferno under pressure about to burst.
His hands spanned her waist now, tightening, itching to grope her more freely, stayed in place by his last shred of self-control. She might’ve wanted to feel his cock through his jeans, nudging in waves mimicking a good frolic, but he didn’t want to play an overconfident hand and get burned. Until she moaned the sultriest sound in his ear. A whoosh of air left his lungs, and he capitulated to the wildness he was feeling. He sucked and kissed the cleft of her neck meeting her shoulder, kissing along her collarbone, his hands caressing her waist, over her hips, up her waist again until his thumbs grazed the undersides of her breasts.
“You smell like my soap,” he growled, pecking his way back to her face. She nodded frantically. “Did you want that scent all over you?” He tongued her mouth, feeling her fingernails bite into his nape, then slide wildly back down to his hips where they slipped beneath his shirt and onto the bare skin of his waist to grip him. He hissed his appreciation of her exploration. She could touch him wherever she damn well wanted. “Did you rub it all over your wet skin?” Her breath hitched as she clung to him and laved her tongue over his in a demand for more kissing, as she arched her hips against his groin. He ripped his mouth away and flattened her against the drawers with his body, feeling her hands sliding teasingly along the edge of his belt. His forehead resting against hers as his lungs pumped wildly, he continued, “Did you get off while you did it? Think about me? I want your hands on me. All over. Right now. And fuck, but I can’t think straight ’cause I want it so bad. I can’t get you out of my head. Ever since you walked up beside me at Stella’s.”
Rose remained quiet, ratcheting up his nerves that he’d finally screwed up. Her fingertips upon his skin gentled, teasing his waist as if lost in thought, if he were to judge by the repetitive caresses. She didn’t push him away. Didn’t say anything as she took shallow breaths. What was she thinking? He’d just put himself out there in a way he never had. His nerves finally overrode his fear.
“Say something.” His voice, low and thick, barely restrained his need and confusion swirling in competition with each other like a cyclone.
Her fingers continued their preoccupied caress, and his forehead pressing against hers began to sweat. Great. Now he’d be slimy on top of sleazy.
“I can’t just casually sleep with you,” she finally said.
“No one said anything about sex,” he replied.
She shook her head, her fingers discovering the healed scar he’d sustained from the bull that had busted more than his ass and playing along the uneven welt beneath his shirt.
“That’s not what I meant. I meant…” She took a deep breath. What was she about to hit him with? “I mean, I like you. And just partying in bed while I’m here, bon voyage when I leave, isn’t the kind of…relationship I want to explore. That, and if I’m careless, it will get me in trouble with the university.”
Was she saying she wanted more?
“I’ve got a son and I’ve got responsibilities to my college and I’m searching like mad for a postdoc job or teaching position. And I—I worry about feeling something that isn’t reciprocated.”
There it was. Another reality check slapping him in the face. She was worried that she’d be getting “Rebel Toby,” who used to make an artform out of a casual lay and a goodbye. Aw hell. He’d known from the beginning, ever since Stella had voiced what he’d been feeling and said that Rose was different, that the winds at the Legacy were shifting.
“I’ve had to grow up a lot,” she continued. “Sage did that for me. Put an anchor on my feet when I was running fast and carefree. I stopped dating because I didn’t want Sage attaching himself to a father figure, only for the guy to leave when he called it quits. Right now, I feel like things could be good with us, but I can’t date you if you don’t feel the same about me because eventually you’d meet my son, and if he likes you and forms attachments, only for you to up and leave because you were never really serious… So, what I’m saying is that I’ve never questioned how I feel about someone since Howie, until now.”
Her rambling wasn’t succinct with a quip or two like he’d come to expect from her. But her rejection of him was clear, until he thought about her words. She’d figured out that Howard was wrong for her and had never given anyone else a chance…but she was willing to give him a chance. Had he not been hung over like a frat boy, stuffing bras out of sight in his back seat when they’d met, would she even be questioning? Dammit, his brothers—and his parents—had always told him his wild ways would catch up to him and zap him in the rear like a cattle prod, and they had been right.
Go slow so she can see you aren’t that guy.
“Then why don’t we slow it down, baby,” he said, kissing her forehead, desperate for that initial intensity they’d just shared but willing to forgo it for now, and chuckling. “It’s safe to say I like you, too. If you need time to think about me, take all the time you need. I ain’t—I’m not going anywhere. There’re no obligations here. I sure as hell don’t want to run you off.”
He eased off her, though kept his forearms braced on the drawers beside her head. Her hands still touched his skin. Torture, considering he’d just vowed to back off.