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The stair treads creaked beneath his weight. “I can’t promise you I will hold back, no.”
Even in the dim light of the hallway he could see her cheeks turn pink. She laughed softly. “No. I want you to promise you won’t tell Sullivan. Even though it’s none of his business, I don’t want to upset him.”
Shit. He did not want to think about Sullivan. He wasn’t sure why Sullivan had been so pissed but he clearly had been. He was on the same page as Sloane and he didn’t want to waste time talking about her brother. “I don’t kiss and tell.” He took the last two steps and cupped her cheeks with his rough palms. He kissed one corner of her mouth, then the other.
She sighed and leaned into him, her voice a soft murmur. “And this is just one night, right? It won’t be weird or complicated or awkward?”
Rick wasn’t one for overthinking it, but Sloane clearly was. He didn’t think she’d been like that in high school but she was fresh off a divorce. It occurred to him he might be the first guy she had been with since her split and that was hot as hell.
“One night. Nothing weird or awkward.” He stroked her hair back from her cheeks. He was one step below her which put them right about at eye level.
She nodded, like she was reassuring herself. “Perfect. Tonight, then we never talk about this ever again.”
“If that’s what you want.” It was more than he had ever expected from Sloane. “So what are you doing here, work-wise?” he asked, curious. Last he’d heard, she hadn’t worked in Minneapolis. Which seemed boring as fuck to him, but then again, he’d never aspired to be a trophy husband. It wasn’t in his DNA. He’d been taking care of his father and his little sisters as long as he could remember, and had started working at fifteen.
But Sloane smiled at him. “Didn’t I just say no small talk? I’m not here for the conversation.”
Damn. “Okay, then. Understood. Use my tongue for better purposes.”
Sloane gave him a look that made him want to throw her against the nearest wall. “Exactly,” she said. “Let’s just say I’ve been underserved in that capacity in recent years. If you catch my drift.”
Oh, he caught it. He wasn’t sure whether to punch Tom Kincaid in the fucking face for neglecting Sloane’s needs or to thank him. “I’m your man,” he told her, keeping his tone easy, casual.
As she opened the door to her apartment, she gave him a bemused head shake. “Never thought this would be happening. Me and Little Dickie.”
He wasn’t even offended by the stupid nickname. She could call him whatever the hell she wanted as long as she was naked for him. “Life takes some strange twists and turns.”
“That it does.” Sloane stepped inside. “Come on in.”
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. But he had thought it would be put together, like Sloane herself. She’d always been the cool girl. Yet she had just moved in, so he wasn’t sure why he thought she would be fully unpacked. It was a jumble of boxes and furniture. Chaotic in a way that instantly gave him a sense of claustrophobia.
He lived in defiance of the way he had grown up, with a full-blown hoarder for a father. He gave new meaning to the word minimalist. Every single item in his apartment was utilitarian. It was stark and maybe even a little cold. Except for River’s room. He let her do whatever she wanted in there, which usually involved lots of stuffed animals and trinket jewelry.
“Sorry for the mess,” she said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve moved. I forgot how much work it is.”
He wanted to ask her what had gone wrong in her marriage, but it was none of his damn business and he knew that. “No worries. I’m not here for the décor.”
“I guess not,” she said, leaning against the wall and bending down and removing her sandals.
He took that as a hint and toed off his work boots. He followed her into the living room but then she dropped her purse on the coffee table and said, “I’ll offer you a drink but I’m not going to sit here and have a conversation. I want you to just take me into the bedroom. Now.”
What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Other than fuck yeah. “I can do that.” That struck him more as the Sloane he remembered. She took what she wanted. “If you’re sure this is what you want.” Now why the fuck did he say that? God, sometimes he hated himself. He was too much of a nice guy. It might nearly kill him, but he could walk away if Sloane had any doubts.
But she shook her head. “I’m sure.” She gave him a grin. “And it better not suck.”
That didn’t worry him. It just made him laugh. Damn, she was just as bold as he remembered. “I told you, I offer a one hundred percent satisfaction guarantee.”
“I could have used that on my last car I bought. I’ve just never had a hookup in my life and I don’t know the rules. Am I being too aggressive?” She didn’t look upset. More like a little amused with herself.
That made his heart squeeze. He had never in a million years thought he would be the one reassuring Sloane. “You’re not being too anything. Just be you. That’s why I’m here. Because you’re you.” Rick took her hand and tugged her closer to him. He brushed her dark hair off her cheek and caressed her soft skin. “There are no rules. It’s all about having fun, feeling good.”
“Fun. What an interesting concept. I might have forgotten how to do that.”
“You looked like you figured out how to on the dance floor tonight.” Rick kissed the corner of her mouth. Then the other. She sighed. He ran his lips along her jawline, teasing up to her earlobe. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” Her voice had softened, notched down to just above a whisper.
Rick pulled back just enough so he could cup her cheeks and give her a soft, lingering kiss. “I’m going to take you to bed now.”
