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I heard the patio door open and shut, but whoever had come outside didn’t say a word. I assumed it must be Darren, since he was the quiet, brooding one. All the other Becketts were more likely to shout an exuberant greeting into the quiet darkness. Tension slid up my back at the thought of being alone out here with any of the guys. Want coiled in my belly. I didn’t turn to look, didn’t say a word myself.
The next thing I knew, a big, calloused palm was on my bare shoulder, warm and possessive. My eyes flew open as Rory offered me a glass of wine. A glass I desperately needed to steady myself. The sizzle of his fingers brushing mine as he passed me the drink seemed to skate all along my flesh. I lifted my eyes to meet his. Then his mouth was on mine, tasting, sucking, kissing me so thoroughly that I slid my fingers into his hair, eagerly parting my lips for his tongue. There was only building heat and wild, carefree lust. I liked his hand on my neck, his tongue in my mouth. He kissed me harder, passionately, and I surprised even myself by meeting him stroke for stroke, my own desire a feral thing unleashed. When we heard the others coming downstairs, we separated. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, heart racing like I’d sprinted for my life.
The rest of the evening I spent all my remaining energy trying to act normal and not gaze at Rory with crazy eyes. After less than an hour I claimed exhaustion and went up to bed.
There was no way in hell I’d be able to sleep, and I damn well knew it. I kicked off my sandals and peeled the sundress off. A quick, cold shower did nothing to cool my arousal. It was just water, not a sedative. I pulled on my faded old nightshirt and braided my hair so I wouldn’t wake up to a tangled mess. I got in bed and scrolled social media, tried to read a book on the library app. Not even a crime thriller could keep my attention. I tossed and turned, kicked off the blanket and then the sheet, feeling too warm, too restless to even attempt to sleep.
Nothing kept my mind off Rory’s kiss, or how hot Darren and Jeremy had looked bare-chested in just their swim trunks on the boat. Darren had one of those sick bodies that belonged on a men’s fitness magazine, all cut lines and stacked muscles. Jeremy was leaner and strong, with muscular arms that would feel so good around me. Rory was a fireman, so he was fit, of course, and had an excellent butt. Must be all that climbing up and down ladders, I mused with a smile.
I double-checked that my door was locked and then slipped under the sheet. I slid my hand under the covers and started to touch myself. I shut my eyes and felt Rory’s hand on my neck again, the way his tongue had stroked into my mouth and claimed me. My breasts felt achy, my nipples tightening. I let myself imagine what it would have been like if no one had interrupted us on the patio.
Rory slid his fingers into my hair, loosening the hair tie until my curls tumbled into his hands. He finger-combed through my damp waves while he licked my upper lip, kissing it and teasing me. My hands went to his chest, gripped his shirt in my fists to hold on. My body sang under his kiss and his touch, like I was coming back to life.
With one hand, he pushed the elastic of my strapless sundress down, exposing my bare breasts in the moonlight. The cool breeze felt erotic and forbidden on my naked flesh. Goosebumps raised on my skin, and my nipples grew painfully hard as Rory stroked them softly, making me squirm. The wetness between my legs spread. I arched toward him. He kissed down my neck and I gripped his hair, tugged a little as his mouth closed over my nipple. His hot tongue, the force of his suckle made sparks roll through me, made me even wetter, which I hadn’t thought possible.
With one motion, he lifted me off the stone wall and carried me to one of the outdoor couches. Settling me on the cushion, Rory knelt in front of me, pushed my dress up my thighs. I dragged his mouth back to mine while he trailed his fingers up my thigh. I hooked a leg around his hips to make sure he knew what I wanted. I don’t want to make out with him and go to bed wanting. Dragging my hips closer to him, he mouthed my throat, whispered in my ear, “Tell me what you want?”
