Getting Rowdy
Page 77
She held the railing on the steps, walking carefully, shaking all over. Icy rivulets of rainwater dripped down her narrow back, tracking over the curve of her ass and soaking into her panties; her small bare feet made no sound on the cold floor. In the kitchen, she opened the stack dryer and bent to put the jeans inside.
Biting off a groan, Rowdy stiffened—all over. Apparently he could be manipulated with sex, after all.
“Rowdy?”
He stood, but stayed by the couch, a safe distance from her dangerous appeal.
She pulled the shirt away from her body. “This is wet, too.”
There went the last piece of his imagined control. Grinding lust roughened his voice when he whispered, “Take it off.”
After the briefest hesitation, Avery nodded, caught the hem and peeled it up and over her head.
He’d f**ked his way through a miserable upbringing, using sex to counter the ravages of poverty and abuse. He used it still to rid his mind of plaguing memories. But now, with Avery, the need that consumed him had nothing to do with any of that—and everything to do with her.
She half turned toward him, her eyes big with both uncertainty and resolve, her slender body bare except for a bra and panties that left little to the imagination.
His jeans felt too restrictive, and without looking away from her, he readjusted himself.
When he made no move toward her, she drew in a shuddering breath, blinked back tears and turned to put the shirt in the dryer with her jeans. Arms around herself, shoulders hunched and knees together, she gave him a defiant stare.
Yeah, he was a goner.
Only Avery could muster up that particular attitude while standing naked and vulnerable, cold and wet.
More than a little predatory, Rowdy stalked toward her, taut from head to toe. He stopped right in front of her, close enough to breathe in the scent of her wet skin and hair, mixed with the sweeter perfume of her excitement.
Her hair hung over her shoulders, partially hiding her br**sts from him. With an exaggerated lack of haste, his movements methodical, he used both hands to move her hair back so he could see her ni**les.
Her bra was as wet as the T-shirt had been, made of the same material as her miniscule panties. She shivered, her skin prickling and her ni**les drawn tight.
With the back of one knuckle, he teased over her right breast.
Her breath caught. “Rowdy?”
“It’s wet.” He dropped his hand, his gaze clashing with hers. Very softly, he ordered, “Take it off.”
When she reached behind herself for the clasp, he cupped both br**sts, teasing her stiffened ni**les with his thumbs. She paused.
“Go on,” Rowdy told her.
Fumbling, breathing faster, she tried to hurry, and finally the bra loosened. He stripped it down her arms and tossed it into the dryer, then went back to toying with her ni**les.
“I...I need to change your bandages, too, while I’m here.”
“Maybe later.” He liked that catch in her voice, how sensitive her ni**les were and how quickly she reacted to his touch. He touched the waistband of her panties. “Let’s see if I can get these wet, too.”
She put hands against his chest. “Rowdy, wait.”
Fuck. Stepping back again, he crossed his arms and tried to prepare himself for whatever she had to say. He’d known, of course, that she hadn’t just come for sex. Avery wasn’t made that way. She had enough pride for three men and enough backbone to stand up to bad temper.
But he’d hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’d come because she...cared.
Hardening his heart, he waited without comment.
Shivering again, Avery stared up at him, her blue eyes pleading. “I...I need to tell you two things.”
He was as ready as he could be. Eyeing her br**sts, he said, “You have my attention.”
She shook her head. “No, not yet.” Her tongue licked over her bottom lip, and she stroked his chest suggestively. “After.”
He straightened. Maybe he’d underestimated her intent after all. Stepping closer, he slid his hand over her waist. Her skin was chilled, damp, and he wanted to warm her. He wanted to protect her. Make love to her.
Cherish her.
But he couldn’t. Not yet.
Eyes narrowed, he asked, “You want sex?”
“God, Rowdy, you know I do.” She tried to burrow closer. “But I have a few conditions.”
His lust didn’t cool, but his heart turned to ice. “I don’t think so, babe. You don’t get conditions.” He looked her over, so petite but shapely, so f**king sexy. He made himself say the words: “It’s all or nothing.”
She nodded, but said, “It’s just that I...” Her voice trailed off.
“You just what? Want to manipulate me?” Never would he let that happen, not even for Avery. “You have an agenda, honey? Is that it?”
Sadness weighed down her shoulders, but that damned determination remained in spades. “I want to protect you.”
What a laugh. “From who? You?” So far, she’d been by far the biggest danger he’d ever faced.
“No.” She licked her lips again, leaving them damp, sharpening his urge to feel that soft mouth on his, on his body. “You don’t know everything about me.”
“No kidding.” The way she’d used him had blindsided him because he’d thought her above that type of shit. He’d thought her genuine and caring and honest.
“I...I’ll tell you, but you have to promise me you won’t change your mind.”
Biting off a groan, Rowdy stiffened—all over. Apparently he could be manipulated with sex, after all.
“Rowdy?”
He stood, but stayed by the couch, a safe distance from her dangerous appeal.
She pulled the shirt away from her body. “This is wet, too.”
There went the last piece of his imagined control. Grinding lust roughened his voice when he whispered, “Take it off.”
After the briefest hesitation, Avery nodded, caught the hem and peeled it up and over her head.
He’d f**ked his way through a miserable upbringing, using sex to counter the ravages of poverty and abuse. He used it still to rid his mind of plaguing memories. But now, with Avery, the need that consumed him had nothing to do with any of that—and everything to do with her.
She half turned toward him, her eyes big with both uncertainty and resolve, her slender body bare except for a bra and panties that left little to the imagination.
His jeans felt too restrictive, and without looking away from her, he readjusted himself.
When he made no move toward her, she drew in a shuddering breath, blinked back tears and turned to put the shirt in the dryer with her jeans. Arms around herself, shoulders hunched and knees together, she gave him a defiant stare.
Yeah, he was a goner.
Only Avery could muster up that particular attitude while standing naked and vulnerable, cold and wet.
More than a little predatory, Rowdy stalked toward her, taut from head to toe. He stopped right in front of her, close enough to breathe in the scent of her wet skin and hair, mixed with the sweeter perfume of her excitement.
Her hair hung over her shoulders, partially hiding her br**sts from him. With an exaggerated lack of haste, his movements methodical, he used both hands to move her hair back so he could see her ni**les.
Her bra was as wet as the T-shirt had been, made of the same material as her miniscule panties. She shivered, her skin prickling and her ni**les drawn tight.
With the back of one knuckle, he teased over her right breast.
Her breath caught. “Rowdy?”
“It’s wet.” He dropped his hand, his gaze clashing with hers. Very softly, he ordered, “Take it off.”
When she reached behind herself for the clasp, he cupped both br**sts, teasing her stiffened ni**les with his thumbs. She paused.
“Go on,” Rowdy told her.
Fumbling, breathing faster, she tried to hurry, and finally the bra loosened. He stripped it down her arms and tossed it into the dryer, then went back to toying with her ni**les.
“I...I need to change your bandages, too, while I’m here.”
“Maybe later.” He liked that catch in her voice, how sensitive her ni**les were and how quickly she reacted to his touch. He touched the waistband of her panties. “Let’s see if I can get these wet, too.”
She put hands against his chest. “Rowdy, wait.”
Fuck. Stepping back again, he crossed his arms and tried to prepare himself for whatever she had to say. He’d known, of course, that she hadn’t just come for sex. Avery wasn’t made that way. She had enough pride for three men and enough backbone to stand up to bad temper.
But he’d hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’d come because she...cared.
Hardening his heart, he waited without comment.
Shivering again, Avery stared up at him, her blue eyes pleading. “I...I need to tell you two things.”
He was as ready as he could be. Eyeing her br**sts, he said, “You have my attention.”
She shook her head. “No, not yet.” Her tongue licked over her bottom lip, and she stroked his chest suggestively. “After.”
He straightened. Maybe he’d underestimated her intent after all. Stepping closer, he slid his hand over her waist. Her skin was chilled, damp, and he wanted to warm her. He wanted to protect her. Make love to her.
Cherish her.
But he couldn’t. Not yet.
Eyes narrowed, he asked, “You want sex?”
“God, Rowdy, you know I do.” She tried to burrow closer. “But I have a few conditions.”
His lust didn’t cool, but his heart turned to ice. “I don’t think so, babe. You don’t get conditions.” He looked her over, so petite but shapely, so f**king sexy. He made himself say the words: “It’s all or nothing.”
She nodded, but said, “It’s just that I...” Her voice trailed off.
“You just what? Want to manipulate me?” Never would he let that happen, not even for Avery. “You have an agenda, honey? Is that it?”
Sadness weighed down her shoulders, but that damned determination remained in spades. “I want to protect you.”
What a laugh. “From who? You?” So far, she’d been by far the biggest danger he’d ever faced.
“No.” She licked her lips again, leaving them damp, sharpening his urge to feel that soft mouth on his, on his body. “You don’t know everything about me.”
“No kidding.” The way she’d used him had blindsided him because he’d thought her above that type of shit. He’d thought her genuine and caring and honest.
“I...I’ll tell you, but you have to promise me you won’t change your mind.”
