“Baby,” he said urgently.
“I’m fine,” she said, then cleared her throat and attempted to be more convincing. “I’m fine. Sorry, I guess I zoned out.”
Olive looked around to find three of her friends sipping their sodas grudgingly, but none of them seemed to have noticed her trip to La La land. She wanted to question Rory. The words were right there on the tip of her tongue. Am I just a rescue mission? Using her to fulfill a regret from his past made sense, didn’t it? Her psychology professor would call it repression. Or something equally fancy.
“What’s wrong?” he said, moving closer and wrapping her in body heat. “Tell me.”
“Nothing is wrong, I just…” The suspicion was bad enough—she didn’t need confirmation so soon. And what if she was wrong? The electricity between them wasn’t a fluke. Or a product of the past. It was right now and it was consuming. Stop overanalyzing and live in the moment. “Take me on a ride?”
As soon as Rory smiled and twined their fingers together, the fears began to dissipate. It had been nothing more than a weak moment. This man was nuts about her. It went both ways and she wasn’t going to get buried beneath a checklist of how their relationship could go wrong.
“Let’s go,” Rory said, kissing her knuckles. “I’m stealing my girl,” he called to her friends. “Enjoy your non-alcoholic beverages. We’ll catch up with you in a little while.”
“There are supposed to be perks when your friend dates an older man,” Leanne shouted over the noisy carnival. “I want my perks!”
Rory and Olive shared a laugh, settling the chaos in her belly once and for all. He led her to the Ferris wheel, where thankfully there was only a short line. And when Rory wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on top of her head, she wished it would move slower so they could stand that way for longer. Minutes later, Rory helped her onto the moving seat and slid in beside her, pulling down the bar and testing it, not relaxing until it was secure.
He threw an arm along the back of the seat, moving close until they were pressed together from shoulder to knee—and Olive had no idea if his proximity or their sudden ascent into the sky caused the ticklish, weightless feeling in her stomach.
“Hey,” Rory breathed against her mouth.
“Hey,” she murmured back, letting him ease her lips open with a kiss. A rush went through her, amplified by the air that blew across her bare shoulders, whipping her hair around. There was so much vulnerability in having her feet dangling dozens of feet above the ground while this man’s mouth wreaked havoc on her senses, she had to grip the metal bar where it rested at her waist or risk floating away.
After a too-short time, Rory ended the kiss and Olive realized they’d paused at the very top of the Ferris wheel. Gone was Rory’s earlier concern. It had been replaced by nothing short of lust. For her. With a bunched jaw, shallow breath and the wind throwing his hair in ten directions, he was nothing short of magnificent. The endless sky full of stars spread out behind him, making the moment bottomless, no beginning, no end. His gaze fell to her chest and he uttered a husky curse, the muscle of his thigh flexing alongside hers.
“God, Olive, I just want to get my fucking hands on you.”
Fevered and filled with sudden mischief, Olive arched her back, feeling the neckline of her strapless dress tug low, so low, revealing an indecent amount of her breasts. “Touch me.”
The growl that broke from his throat sent her thighs slapping together in their signature move, and that was before Rory’s right hand swallowed up one of her breasts, squeezing it once, then rubbing his palm in a chafing circle around and around her peaked nipple. Olive let out a cry, turned on by everything at once. Him, mainly, of course. His touch, his hunger for her, his scent, their attraction. Having her breasts exposed at the top of a Ferris wheel turned her wild, reckless, hotter than she ever thought possible.
She leaned up and teased Rory’s mouth into a quick, wet kiss, then leaned back to watch his expression change as she slipped a hand beneath the hem of her dress.
His nostrils flared. “What are you doing?”
Biting down on her bottom lip, she tucked a finger inside her panties, using the gathering moisture to fondle her clit. “Touching myself,” she whispered, her words threading together with the wind. “I did this in your bed yesterday morning. After you left.”
A shudder rocked Rory, shaking Olive, too. “Excuse me?” He leaned in quickly, their foreheads meeting and rolling together. “You played with your pussy in my bed? Is that what you’re telling me, baby?”