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She didn’t hear him. No doubt she was redoubling her efforts to try to coax him out of his turtle-like shell, adding the extra impetus of a tight palm around his sac. Air hissed out between his teeth. It still felt incredible. Beyond. But he wouldn’t use her like this.
“Rory, stop.” This time when he muttered her name, her head snapped up, smoky eyes connecting with his.
“Enough?” Though she drew away and smiled, he didn’t miss the hurt that scrolled across her face.
Jesus, he felt lower than the lowest. Why had he started this again? He could’ve just gone to lunch with her. Or better yet, he could’ve accepted her sympathy call as what it was and hung up before he’d caused her to doubt herself for even an instant.
“Guess it wasn’t working for you.” She popped to her feet and pushed back a strand of hair that dipped into her eyes. “Sorry, rushed things. I should’ve taken it slow, but slow’s not really my forte.”
“It was working for me. Completely. And you went at the speed everything’s gone so far.” He tried to smile for her sake though he was reasonably sure he grimaced instead. Couldn’t be helped.
“Oh well then. My technique—”
“C’mere,” he said, softly gripping her forearm and leading her to the mattress. On the floor. Shit.
But she sat without so much as a flicker of indecision, looking up at him in that same open, earnest way that had nudged his lust from an inkling to overwhelming. Such a pure expression. So honest.
Which meant he owed her just as much honesty in return. Even if he had to extract it from his gut with a butter knife.
He dropped down beside her, scooting backward until his spine hit the wall. She crawled over to him, sitting against his side with her knees parted and her heels dangling off the edge. He hadn’t even touched her clothes. Had barely even touched her.
Yet.
“It was this,” he said, lifting his hand and rubbing his ring. “Got it stuck in your hair and everything scrambled.”
Her swift intake of breath somehow made him feel better, as if she didn’t think his reaction seemed odd. Like the rest of this damn day. “I’m sorry. I should’ve looked for that first and I didn’t think to. Can’t believe I didn’t check.”
He stared at the gold band, his stomach and head churning in concert. “It’s not your fault. It’s just a ring.”
Not even close, but maybe he could someday convince himself.
“We’re not going to be having sex, are we?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Yeah, me either.” But instead of looking depressed by that fact, she shot him what could only be described as a sly grin. “So about that sandwich…”
Sam laughed and stretched out a hand to her. She intertwined her fingers with his, her palm like satin in his rough grip. He liked the feel of her. Small, giving. So warm. Holding hands was old school—and probably lame considering all their combustible heat and how it hadn’t bubbled over—but he couldn’t remember ever enjoying it this much. “Think I only have turkey and mayo. No bread. Haven’t gone shopping this week.”
“Been spending the time reading?” She inclined her chin toward the novel on his nightstand. “I love Koontz.”
“Yeah?” She liked sports and horror. And gave amazing blowjobs. “What’s your favorite?”
“I have six.”
He laughed again, pleased that at least one of his emotional responses seemed to be loosening up. How long had it been since he’d laughed this much? Too long. “Which ones?”
They talked for a while, about books and music and why ’71 Chevelles were one of the best cars ever made. Soon she started taking surreptitious glances at her watch. Just because he’d blown off that afternoon’s work didn’t mean she had. Strangely enough he didn’t want her to go. Apparently his wounded pride didn’t care if she’d seen him lose his shit.
Hell, she’d seen a lot of the rest of him, hadn’t she? Not even his cock. She’d seen his words, his emotions, his heart spilling out on the page. And she hadn’t laughed. Far from it.
“You never made fun of my billboards,” he said quietly.
“No. Of course not.”
“Because I’m a client?”
“Well, that matters, yeah. But why would I make fun of something so beautiful? I was so jealous of her.”
