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She flattened her palms against the worn cotton of his T-shirt. His abdominal muscles tightened deliciously beneath her palms as he licked along the seam of her lips. Tempting, teasing, torturing her …
On a sigh of surrender, she opened her mouth to welcome him in.
Sod it. There’s only so much abstinence a woman can take, especially in the face of extreme provocation.
His tongue thrust into her mouth in hungry, driving strokes, reminding her of the feel of his big body pounding into hers and she thrust back, unable to deny herself – and him – a moment longer.
He lifted his head at last, because breathing was required. But as they both got their breath back, his hand settled on her hip, the thumb rubbing across her hip bone in an absent gesture that felt both easy going and wildly possessive.
The hum of pleasure rose up her torso.
Don’t you dare read too much into this. He’s just horny and so are you.
But even as she told herself to enjoy the moment and not what it might mean – that Luke was as keen on repeating their wild night as she was, no hidden agendas required – she devoured his relaxed smile. A smile she realised she’d never seen before, but could easily become addicted to.
He seemed amused and in control, nothing like the intense, conflicted, wounded man she worried she might have taken advantage of last Friday.
Perhaps she had read way too much into what he’d shared with her.
After all, she was pretty over-emotional herself at the moment, thanks to the fallout from Matty’s death, the revelations about his affair with Falcone, and the stress of finding a way to save The Royale. And she did have a tendency to over-compensate anyway, to be too sensitive to the heartache of others. Wasn’t that precisely why she’d ended up cutting ties to her mother, because every time her mum had a bad break-up, Ruby was the one who had felt the need to fix her mother’s heartache. Only to eventually realise – with a lot of help from Matty – she wasn’t responsible for her mother’s mistakes. Or the deadbeat guys she had a bad habit of falling in love with.
‘Excusez-moi! Do you know Notting Hill Gate, how long away it is?’
Luke’s rubbing thumb dropped away as Ruby spotted the man with the French accent standing at the entrance to their alleyway.
Luke tugged the bill of his cap over his face and looked the other way, as she replied.
‘It’s a good fifteen to twenty-minute walk from here, down Portobello Road,’ she said. ‘It’s a very pretty walk, but if you’re in a hurry I’d suggest hopping on a bus,’ she hurried on, even though she could see confusion in the man’s expression. Usually she loved being asked directions, especially by tourists, proud of the fact she was a local and grateful for the opportunity to get chatting and possibly stick in a plug for The Royale. But for once she did not have any desire to get into a conversation. ‘You can catch a number 52 or a 452 bus from Ladbroke Grove, which runs parallel to Portobello Road.’
The tourist nodded and disappeared back into the crowd, probably picking up on her impatience. She dismissed the twinge of guilt at her abruptness.
‘Helpfulness is your superpower,’ Luke said, his shoulder propped against the wall as he watched her. ‘Isn’t it?’
Although his expression was shadowed by the cap, she could see the indulgent quirk of his lips.
‘Actually, that was me being irritable and impatient,’ she said, basking in his approval maybe a bit too much. ‘But seriously? He was French? Couldn’t he see we were busy kissing? I certainly wouldn’t have expected Gerard Depardieu to be so insensitive.’
He chuckled again, the rough sound stroking all the erogenous zones he’d woken up with his kisses, then lifted a forefinger to trail it down her cheek.
He thinks you’re adorable.
She chewed her bottom lip to prevent an excited chuckle popping out.
Control yourself, you are a grown woman, not a schoolgirl with a crush.
‘Shall we head back to the theatre together?’ he said, dropping his finger so he could capture her hand. ‘I’ve already wasted half an hour of my morning shift.’
She nodded, not able to speak without risking another chuckle.
Were they holding hands now? Actually?
He led her down the alleyway, towards Portobello Green and away from any more interruptions.
She probably ought to object, she thought vaguely, as he led her through the small park. After all she’d been on an important errand when she’d left The Royale this morning. But as she could not for the life of her remember what that important errand was, how could she object?
So instead, she gave herself permission to swing her hand in his as they walked in the sunshine back towards Talbot Road.
It was official, she was having a thing with Luke Devlin. A hot-sex-only, no-strings, no-ties, no-complications, no-dangerous-emotions-allowed kind of a thing – but still definitely a thing.
