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But there wasn't a choice anymore. He’d smashed his way in. I doubt I’d be able to force him out again, even if I could muster up the energy, will or desire to try.
Fourteen
Riley
“I told you, we're taking this slow.”
Removing my hand from his jean-covered crotch, Reno sat me down at his kitchen table, placing each of my palms down on the surface.
My brow arched up. “So, no touching?”
Laughing softly, he bent to kiss my lips. “No.”
“Wow. You're killing me.”
Curling his hand over my cheek, his gaze traveled my face before meeting my eyes. “We're doing this right, baby. I am gonna date the fuck out of you.”
“Sounds intense.” I grinned.
His expression mirrored mine. “It will be.”
“So, you're gonna date the fuck out of me before you fuck me?”
He clucked his tongue in faux outrage at my crass words before his lips tilted into a smirk. “That's right. No sex until at least the third date.”
“Damn,” I said with a wince, my lips struggling to contain my smile. “Does this count as a date?”
“Nope.”
I tossed him a wry smile. God, I wanted him. In ways I’d never wanted Leon. I craved Reno’s touch, always had, no matter how much I’d denied it. The thought of being with him flooded me with a desire so strong, it overrode everything else. But he cared enough to put the brakes on. I couldn’t fault him for that, not when my heart swelled to bursting, and my chest flushed with warmth. Somehow, it all made me even hotter for him.
I slapped my palms against the smooth wood, and teased, “Who knew you were such a prude? If I'd known it would be this hard to get under you, I'd have stuck with Leon.”
The amusement swiftly evaporated from his eyes as he leaned over me, forcing me back against the edge of the table and planting both hands down behind me.
“Make no mistake, Riley, whether I spread you out on this table right now and fuck you or wait a few weeks until I'm one hundred percent sure you're ready, you're already mine. And you always will be.”
Gulping over the knot in my throat, my heart feeling like it had inflated to the size of a balloon, I sucked in a calming breath and squeezed my thighs together. I didn't tell him he'd just turned my insides to liquid—melted me inside like goo—or that he'd just given me the lady version of blue balls. I didn't get the chance. He hoisted me onto the table anyway and kissed me until I couldn’t think straight. Effectively shutting me the hell up and making me forget someone named Leon ever existed.
Half an hour after I’d left to take a cold shower, I made my way back to his trailer as directed, and halted mid-stride, partway through his door. “You're cooking for me?”
With a dish towel draped over his shoulder and a sexy grin on his face, he looked back and flashed me a wink. “Date number one.” He flipped a steak over.
“Wow, I just... wow.” Words failed me as I moved into the compact space and came up behind him. “Can I help with anything?”
“Nope. I got it. Take a seat.” He motioned with his spatula to the L-shaped couch.
I moved backward, a little bemused. In the week since we'd become something, he'd acted like the perfect gentleman. I hadn't known he had it in him. Chaste kisses, holding hands, watching movies at my place when my mom was working, and fleeting touches when he passed by me in the hallway at school. He wasn't joking when he said he wanted to take it slow. We hadn't said we were officially an item or anything, hadn’t gone public, but he was doing a damn good job of being the amazing boyfriend I never knew I always wanted.
Changing direction, I moved to stand behind him, my hand hovering over his denim clad butt—just shy of touching—and brought my lips to the left of his nape, pressing the lightest of kisses there before lifting my lips to whisper into the shell of his ear. “Thank you.”
The throaty growl that rumbled from him as I walked away brought a triumphant smile to my lips. He wanted to do things right, date, cook for me, hold my hand, and I appreciated it more than I could have guessed. Didn't mean it wasn't crazy difficult to keep my hands off of him. Also didn't mean I was above making sure it was hard for him, too. Pun intended.
We ended the night making out on his couch, his hands in my hair, our legs tangled, and breathing optional, until we almost passed out. Reno pulled away first, pushing both hands into the springy surface and thrusting his body up of the couch, positioning himself several feet from me, as if he might cave and break his self-imposed no sex rule if he didn’t put a good chunk of distance between us.
My pouted lips and racing heart attested to how badly I wanted him to keep going. “You know, I won’t hold you to your rule, Ren. I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Fevered brown eyes trailed my body longingly. His chest rose and fell erratically with his ragged breaths and his fingers flexed by his sides as he stared down at me. After a beat, he shook his head clear and snatched his gaze away. “Not doing it. I made you a promise. One I intend to keep.”
