Rest is the last thing I want to do. God, it would be so hot, seeing Rory Miller break.
He walks into his closet, and I pick our dragons up, holding one in each hand.
“Please have sex with me,” I make my dragon say to his, using a high, girly voice, before holding his dragon up and affecting a low, masculine voice.
He returns to the bedroom holding a hoodie.
“No,” I continue. “You’re a fragile little lady, and I’m afraid I’ll hurt you with my huge—”
“That’s enough out of you,” Rory laughs, taking the dragons from me as I dissolve into laughter. He’s shaking his head, grinning at me. “Come here.”
He gestures for me to lift my arms, and when he pulls the hoodie over my head, I get a lungful of his comforting scent.
“Now you’re trying to dress me, too?” I ask, smiling down at the hoodie. It’s huge on me, worn soft from washing.
His eyes spark. “Didn’t want you to get cold.”
Desire swoops through me. Why, why is a man taking care of me so hot? There’s something about his sweet, caring nature that makes me want to write my name on him and fuck his brains out.
I lie down on the bed and he takes the spot beside me, propped on his elbow, eyes flickering with heat.
“Is seeing me in your bed turning you on?”
He lets out a heavy breath. “Yes.”
Heat rushes between my legs, thrumming. “Good. What are you going to do about it?”
His eyes drop to my mouth and a tortured noise rumbles in his chest.
“You said you’d take care of me,” I whisper.
His eyelids close and he sighs. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“Mhm.” My hand comes to his cock, already hard and straining against his pants, and I give it a slow stroke.
He groans, hips jerking into my hand, and his eyes burn, molten hot. “Fuck. I can’t say no to you.”
“So don’t.” A string plucks low in my belly, making me ache.
“Come here.”
He nudges me so I’m on my side before he moves behind me, spooning me, surrounding me with his hard chest and broad shoulders. I sink back into his warmth, and he pulls the duvet over us.
I moan at how comfortable this is, but my breath catches when he loops a big arm beneath me and slides his hand into my shirt. His lips are on my neck, his breath tickling my skin as he tugs my bra down and finds a nipple.
“Better?” he asks in a low voice.
“Almost.” Heat swirls inside me, and I grind back against the thick erection pressing into me, pulling a deep groan from him. I can feel myself getting wet already from the way his fingers are toying with my breast.
His other hand sneaks into my leggings, stroking over me. Sparks jolt through me at the contact, and I arch against him.
“How about that?” His tone is so cocky and smug.
I clutch his arm across my chest and my breath catches when he pinches my nipple. This is fooling around on another level. I’m somehow insanely comfortable and aching with need, inhaling his masculine, clean smell with every breath.
“You know it’s good,” I bite out, sounding breathless. “I need more.”
His hand stills between my legs, and his finger rests on my clit. Not moving. Just touching lightly. I buck against him, seeking friction, but he pulls away, still barely touching me.
“Rory,” I whine, writhing.
“You going to be good for me over the next few days?’
I growl, and his laugh grazes my cheek.
“You going to stay off your ankle and let me take care of you?”
“I swear to god, Rory—”
He pinches my clit, and my teeth clench at the lust roaring through me. “Fine. Yes. Okay. I’ll be good.”
It’s not fair that messing around with him is both the best sex I’ve ever had and the most fun.
His lips skate over my neck, and he nips me. “You sure?”
“Rory.”
He laughs, and his fingers start to swirl. I sink against him as warmth courses through me and my muscles tighten.
“How’s this?”
“So good,” I moan. My heart races, and Rory’s hand works faster, circling exactly the way I like it, flat fingers, not too fast, not too hard.
“You going to come for me?”
“Of course.” I can already feel myself fraying, nerves firing with sensation.
He makes a low noise of pleasure. “Good.”
The pressure builds between my legs and I turn my face into the pillow. When I suck a sharp breath in, Rory’s scent goes straight to my brain, and I clench up. In my ear, he groans with pleasure as he touches me, and the heat between my legs spills over, coursing through me, radiating through my limbs. The entire time, Rory holds me tight against him, whispering in my ear about how much he likes being here, how pretty I am, and how much he loves watching me come.
“Oh my god,” I whisper as my release subsides. “You’re so good at that.”
Rory smiles against my neck, but when I turn and reach for his erection, he’s off the bed in a flash.
I arch a brow, feeling cold without him against me. “Get back here.”
“No.” He leans down to give me a kiss but steps away when I reach for him again. “I have errands to run, and you’re going to rest like you said you would.”
I blink in outrage, gesturing at the thick ridge between his legs. “You’re hard.”
“I’ll survive, Hartley. You’ve been making me hard for years, and it hasn’t killed me yet.”
A laugh falls from my lips. My mouth is watering, thinking about him fucking it again.
“We had a deal.” He gives me a hard look, but he’s smiling as he drops another kiss to my lips. “So be a good girlfriend and stay off your ankle so I’m not worried about you.”
Girlfriend, he said. Not fake girlfriend.
“I was coerced,” I call after him as he winks and strides out of the room.
I should be warning myself that this has an end date, and that we haven’t addressed what’s going on with us. I should be freaking out because Rory fits into my life seamlessly, and if it goes south, he’s going to tear a hole so big it’ll be impossible to repair. I could do my typical mental gymnastics, telling myself that he didn’t mean to say that, that it was just a mistake.
Instead, I smile out the window and listen to the front door close, already excited for him to get back.
CHAPTER 57
RORY
Christmas carols play in the grocery store while I load things into my overflowing cart.
Keep Hazel warm, keep Hazel fed, keep Hazel happy. I’m in protector mode, and I love it. Taking care of her feels right and natural.
I normally spend the Christmas break in the gym or taking advantage of the empty rink schedule, but the idea of curling up on the couch with Hazel tonight blows all of that up. I used to hate my apartment, actively avoiding the empty, lonely penthouse overlooking the city, but with her there?
I can’t wait to get home.
I’m loading the groceries into my car, snow falling around me, when my phone buzzes with a call. I’m expecting something regarding the dinner I’ve ordered for us from a local restaurant, but my stomach tightens when I see the name flashing across the screen.