Getting Rowdy
Page 37
He shuddered with the thought.
“You’re okay?” Avery let her fingers hover over the waistband of his jeans.
“Better than okay,” he promised her, and kissed the top of her head.
Without looking at him, she whispered, “Should I help you undress now?”
He choked back a groan. “Might be better if you give me a minute.”
“Okay.” She pressed back. “I need to wash up anyway.”
“Make yourself at home.” The words left his mouth, and he froze. Jesus, he couldn’t believe he’d just said that, or that he really wanted her to be at ease.
Her mouth twitched. “You look like that hurt more than the knife wound.”
Emotional shit always hurt worse, and Avery made him feel way too much.
Rowdy accepted that it would be a torturous night. “Use anything you need.”
“You’re sure?” Proving she had a wickedly teasing nature, she said, “You’re already so beat-up, I don’t want to push you over the edge by getting too comfortable.”
“I’m not beat-up, smart-ass. The bastard just got in one lucky cut.” He kissed her to prove he was fine, then turned her and gave her a light swat on that spectacular ass. “Now stop harassing me and go get ready.”
Ignoring her snicker, Rowdy watched her go, fascinated by the way her body moved under his T-shirt. Who knew a damned tent of a shirt could be so erotic? The second Avery closed the bathroom door, self-preservation kicked in. He made quick work of double-checking the locks on the front door before turning out all the lights except for the one on the nightstand.
Sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed, in more pain than he wanted to admit to, Rowdy worked off his shoes and socks. Even if having Avery so close wouldn’t keep him awake and on the edge of lust, the deepening pain would make sleep impossible.
When he heard the water shut off in the bathroom, he stood and opened the snap on his jeans, then eased the zipper down over his boner.
Avery emerged. Damp tendrils of hair clung to her forehead and flushed cheeks.
Looking dewy and fresh and so sexy that he burned with need, she padded barefoot across the room to him. “What are you doing?” Her breath smelled minty, and he detected the smell of his soap on her skin. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“By unzipping my jeans? Get real.” One day soon, he’d make sure she understood his strength. “Did you use my toothbrush?”
Brushing his hands away, she said, “Corner of a washcloth.”
Rowdy stared at the crooked part in her hair. “I wouldn’t have minded.” Would she?
“Maybe in the morning, then. Thanks.”
Apparently not. And why the hell did that seem so intimate?
“So.” She stared at the waistband of his jeans. “Let’s get you undressed.”
Ah, hell, if only the rest of his body felt as energetic as his dick. “This might be a bad idea...”
She glanced up at him, her face clean of makeup, the blue of her eyes looking deeper in the low light, her lashes leaving shadows on her smooth cheeks. “I’ll be careful, Rowdy, I promise.”
That wasn’t what worried him.
“Relax.” With that said, she hooked both hands in his waistband and tugged down his jeans—which brought her face so close that he imagined he could feel her breath through his boxers.
Pretending she didn’t see his erection, she went to a knee and finished dragging the denim down to his ankles. “Step out.”
What the hell. If she could take it, so could he. He put a hand on the top of her head and did as told.
Avery folded the jeans. “You can sit down on the side of the bed so I can get your shirt off.”
Better if she’d just get him off. It wouldn’t take much. Seeing her on her knees had almost done it.
Wearing only the snug boxers and a borrowed T-shirt, Rowdy sat.
After putting his jeans on the dresser, Avery climbed onto the bed behind him. He felt her there, so close and so utterly still.
Without warning, her fingers gently tunneled into his hair. “Is your sister as blond as you?”
The mesmerizing way she touched him wasn’t carnal, and maybe that’s why it affected him so strongly. It felt like...affection.
He wasn’t used to it.
He knotted his hands in the blankets. “Pepper’s hair is lighter, and a hell of a lot longer.”
“Is it as thick as yours? As wavy?”
He could feel her breath on the back of his neck. “Hell, I don’t know.” He twisted to look at her over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
When she shrugged, the neckline of the shirt slid down. Not far enough for him to see her breast but close enough that his heart almost punched out of his chest.
He did not react this way to women, damn it.
Avery smoothed down his hair and said on a sigh, “You’re pretty irresistible, that’s all.” Leaning forward, she got hold of the hem of the shirt. “I’m going to be really careful. Let me lift up the shirt and then we can work each arm out, okay?”
It took an excruciating amount of time for Avery to do what he could have accomplished in five seconds. Never in his life would he have allowed a woman to “handle him,” but it was kind of nice the way Avery did it. Once freed, she tossed the shirt to the dresser to join the jeans.
A moment later, she breathed, “Oh, Rowdy.”
He imagined a lot of bruising had formed around the cut. “It’s okay, honey.”
“You’re okay?” Avery let her fingers hover over the waistband of his jeans.
“Better than okay,” he promised her, and kissed the top of her head.
Without looking at him, she whispered, “Should I help you undress now?”
He choked back a groan. “Might be better if you give me a minute.”
“Okay.” She pressed back. “I need to wash up anyway.”
“Make yourself at home.” The words left his mouth, and he froze. Jesus, he couldn’t believe he’d just said that, or that he really wanted her to be at ease.
Her mouth twitched. “You look like that hurt more than the knife wound.”
Emotional shit always hurt worse, and Avery made him feel way too much.
Rowdy accepted that it would be a torturous night. “Use anything you need.”
“You’re sure?” Proving she had a wickedly teasing nature, she said, “You’re already so beat-up, I don’t want to push you over the edge by getting too comfortable.”
“I’m not beat-up, smart-ass. The bastard just got in one lucky cut.” He kissed her to prove he was fine, then turned her and gave her a light swat on that spectacular ass. “Now stop harassing me and go get ready.”
Ignoring her snicker, Rowdy watched her go, fascinated by the way her body moved under his T-shirt. Who knew a damned tent of a shirt could be so erotic? The second Avery closed the bathroom door, self-preservation kicked in. He made quick work of double-checking the locks on the front door before turning out all the lights except for the one on the nightstand.
Sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed, in more pain than he wanted to admit to, Rowdy worked off his shoes and socks. Even if having Avery so close wouldn’t keep him awake and on the edge of lust, the deepening pain would make sleep impossible.
When he heard the water shut off in the bathroom, he stood and opened the snap on his jeans, then eased the zipper down over his boner.
Avery emerged. Damp tendrils of hair clung to her forehead and flushed cheeks.
Looking dewy and fresh and so sexy that he burned with need, she padded barefoot across the room to him. “What are you doing?” Her breath smelled minty, and he detected the smell of his soap on her skin. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“By unzipping my jeans? Get real.” One day soon, he’d make sure she understood his strength. “Did you use my toothbrush?”
Brushing his hands away, she said, “Corner of a washcloth.”
Rowdy stared at the crooked part in her hair. “I wouldn’t have minded.” Would she?
“Maybe in the morning, then. Thanks.”
Apparently not. And why the hell did that seem so intimate?
“So.” She stared at the waistband of his jeans. “Let’s get you undressed.”
Ah, hell, if only the rest of his body felt as energetic as his dick. “This might be a bad idea...”
She glanced up at him, her face clean of makeup, the blue of her eyes looking deeper in the low light, her lashes leaving shadows on her smooth cheeks. “I’ll be careful, Rowdy, I promise.”
That wasn’t what worried him.
“Relax.” With that said, she hooked both hands in his waistband and tugged down his jeans—which brought her face so close that he imagined he could feel her breath through his boxers.
Pretending she didn’t see his erection, she went to a knee and finished dragging the denim down to his ankles. “Step out.”
What the hell. If she could take it, so could he. He put a hand on the top of her head and did as told.
Avery folded the jeans. “You can sit down on the side of the bed so I can get your shirt off.”
Better if she’d just get him off. It wouldn’t take much. Seeing her on her knees had almost done it.
Wearing only the snug boxers and a borrowed T-shirt, Rowdy sat.
After putting his jeans on the dresser, Avery climbed onto the bed behind him. He felt her there, so close and so utterly still.
Without warning, her fingers gently tunneled into his hair. “Is your sister as blond as you?”
The mesmerizing way she touched him wasn’t carnal, and maybe that’s why it affected him so strongly. It felt like...affection.
He wasn’t used to it.
He knotted his hands in the blankets. “Pepper’s hair is lighter, and a hell of a lot longer.”
“Is it as thick as yours? As wavy?”
He could feel her breath on the back of his neck. “Hell, I don’t know.” He twisted to look at her over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
When she shrugged, the neckline of the shirt slid down. Not far enough for him to see her breast but close enough that his heart almost punched out of his chest.
He did not react this way to women, damn it.
Avery smoothed down his hair and said on a sigh, “You’re pretty irresistible, that’s all.” Leaning forward, she got hold of the hem of the shirt. “I’m going to be really careful. Let me lift up the shirt and then we can work each arm out, okay?”
It took an excruciating amount of time for Avery to do what he could have accomplished in five seconds. Never in his life would he have allowed a woman to “handle him,” but it was kind of nice the way Avery did it. Once freed, she tossed the shirt to the dresser to join the jeans.
A moment later, she breathed, “Oh, Rowdy.”
He imagined a lot of bruising had formed around the cut. “It’s okay, honey.”
