Needing Arella (Rockers' Legacy Book 6)

When I didn’t answer, he shifted, causing his thigh to brush against mine. I kicked off my heels and folded my legs beneath me so he wasn’t touching me so casually. That small, innocent contact was distracting enough.

“Do you want to go out, or should I order in?”

“I don’t feel like going out,” I told him as I picked up the TV remote and started flipping through channels. “And I need to be at the studio at six in the morning, so I’m going to have an early night. I called in sick today so I could attend the funeral, so that will extend the filming of the finale.”

He groaned like he was in pain. “That means we have to get up at four.”

“No, it means I have to get up at four.” I kept my gaze on the television as I channel-surfed, not really paying attention to what was on the screen, just needing something to look at other than him. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I’m not leaving your side. You go to work, I’m going to be there.” He snatched the remote from my hand and tossed it on the floor. Grasping my hips, he lifted me onto his lap and buried his face in my neck. “What scent is your shampoo?”

“Honeysuckle,” I breathed, unable to keep from squirming as he pressed his nose into my hair and inhaled deeply. I could feel his hard-on pushing into my hip, and I swear, the thing was as thick as a tree trunk.

He thrust his hips up, making me want to turn and straddle him, take him deep and ride him all night long. I was about to give in, to hell with my rule, and pull him free from his pants. But before I could move, he lifted me and stood.

Breathing heavily, he turned me away from him. “Go shower. I’ll order us some dinner.”

Dazed, I picked up my overnight bag and walked toward his bedroom, weak-kneed. As I shut the door behind me, I realized he hadn’t even kissed me, and yet my panties were drenched and my entire body ached as if he’d brought me to the edge of completion and left me hanging.

Shaking my head at how powerless I was where Jordan was concerned, I unpacked my pajamas and my toiletries. Taking both into the bathroom with me, I took a moment to look around the spacious master bath. The few times I’d been there, I’d never seen his personal bathroom.

The shower was huge, with clear glass, all-black tile on the walls, and a smoky white-and-gray tile on the floor. A rain shower fell from the ceiling, and it had a handheld shower head I could control the power of easily. The jets on the highest setting felt good on the knots of my neck and shoulders and made me cry out as I let it pulse against my clit.

But I didn’t let it get me off. I wanted Jordan’s touch, his tongue, his thick cock taking care of the ache he was responsible for. My meeting-the-parents rule be damned. It wasn’t like that was going to happen anyway, and I needed to face reality and take him however I could get him for what little time we had together before he got bored and went back to Italy.

After I got out of the shower, I dried my hair and then walked out to the living room to find Jordan placing Chinese takeout boxes on the coffee table. He’d half unbuttoned his dress shirt, exposing his lightly hair-dusted chest and the tops of his abs. His sleeves were rolled up his forearms, something that had me gulping.

Some girls were into a guy’s tight ass or even his calves. Oddly enough, it was a guy’s forearms that made me lick my lips in appreciation. Although Jordan was the whole package with his well-defined ass, perfect calves, and basically leanly chiseled everywhere, he had forearms that made me want to trace my tongue over the veins that went up his arms.

And keep going over his entire body until I’d tasted every inch of him.

“I ordered extra egg rolls just for you,” he commented as he started opening containers. “And yes, before you ask, I did get the honey chicken just so you could dip your egg rolls in the sauce.”

“Dumplings?” I asked, and I bit my lip at how breathy my voice came out.

He lifted a container. “Dumplings with no dipping sauce because I know

the smell upsets your stomach.” He tapped a set of chopsticks still in their wrapper on the top of the soup. “Wonton soup as well.”

That he remembered all my favorite Chinese foods caused butterflies to flutter in my stomach while I crossed to him and folded my legs under myself as I sat on the floor. He dropped down beside me, but instead of reaching for the food, he pressed his nose to the side of my head. “This is one of my favorite smells in the world,” he muttered. “And it’s going to be all over this place. I’m never going to want to leave this apartment now.”

Needing to distract myself from his smooth lines, I reached for an egg roll and dipped it into the honey chicken. Taking a huge bite so I wouldn’t be expected to talk, I licked the sauce off my bottom lip and chewed.

“Your phone was going off earlier,” Jordan informed me as he picked up the container of noodles and thrust his chopsticks in to take a bite. “Who all did you give the new number to?”

I finished chewing before answering. “Just my parents, my sisters, and brother. Oh, and Palmer.” Spotting the phone on the end table beside the couch, I grabbed it.

The text was from my mom. I’d told her I lost my phone, and since I’d been thinking about changing my number for a while because I’d been getting some annoying calls from the press, I’d gone ahead and taken care of it when I picked up a replacement phone. Having been at Violet’s for the after-funeral gathering, she was just now getting back to me. Luckily, she was too distracted by what was going on with my cousin to really question me about my decision to switch numbers.

Mom: Thanks for letting me know, sweetheart. Love you.

I shot her a reply, telling her I loved her too, and dropped the phone on the floor beside me before grabbing a dumpling with my own chopsticks.

“You want wine?” Jordan asked as he picked up the bottle and poured himself a glass.

“No thanks.” I didn’t drink, not even wine. It wasn’t because I wasn’t old enough yet, but because my dad was a recovering alcoholic. It was mainly out of respect for him that I’d promised myself I would never touch a drop of alcohol, but also because, deep down, I was a little afraid I would use it as a crutch like he once had.

“Figured you would say that.” He picked up the bottle of water and uncapped it before offering it to me. “Sorry, it’s all I have besides the wine. I can order groceries if you need or want anything.”