CHAPTER ELEVEN
Pleasure and relief flooded through Sky when Rory arrived at the Coffee Hut the following evening. He’d been pretty annoyed with her the evening before, and she wasn’t willing to bet on him turning up to escort her to his place. No excuses were offered though. Instead he waited patiently for her to finish her shift then informed her he would be making her lasagna and he’d got a bottle of wine to go with it.
They traveled by tube and she stood against him in the corner of the compartment looking into his eyes, savoring every moment.
She took great interest in looking around when they alighted at Notting Hill tube station. It was a ten minute walk from there to his house and there was plenty to look at. She’d never been to this part of London. It was different to where she lived. There were proper houses, like families lived there.
The best part was Rory held her hand as they walked along the pavement and it made her bubble inside. She had to suppress her smile.
“What is it?” he asked when he noticed.
“You’re holding my hand. I can’t help smiling.”
“You’re easily pleased.”
His Irish brogue rolled through her, making her feel happy just at the sound of his voice. “That I am,” she replied.
He laughed, but let go her hand and put his arm around her waist, pulling her tighter against him. She laughed too. It was too much fun.
“Here we are,” he announced, a few minutes later.
It was a neat terraced house with a small garden laid to lawn. A brick wall and wooden gate fronted it. The gate squeaked when Rory opened it for her, ushering her in.
“It’s nice.” She stared up at the windows. It was lovely compared to where she lived. “Where do you keep your motorcycle?”
“There’s a lane at the back of the properties, and there’s a lock up out back. Four of us share and we all have bikes. The lock up was a major draw.”
Sky watched as he unlocked the door. He used two keys on two separate locks, turning both at once. He really was security conscious. Why was that? Were those guys he was mixed up with into more than computer hacking? She kept her questions to herself. This was a date and she wanted to treasure it and not ruin it by talking about stuff he got irritated about. She’d learned her lesson on that score the night before.
Inside the house, he took her jacket, hanging it up on the end of the banisters. She peered about, trying to get a feel for his home.
“Have a look around. I’ll get started on the lasagna.”
Sky nodded, but her attention remained on him and she followed him into kitchen. He quickly got busy at the chopping board. She watched, enjoying just being able to drink him in. “As I recall your cooking efforts used to center around the sandwich toaster.”
“I’ve picked up a few extra skills since then.” He chopped an onion and threw it into a pan. “Anything you don’t eat?”
“Mushrooms.”
There was a twinkle in his eyes. “Ah yes, mushrooms. I knew there was something that made you squeal in horror if you found it on your plate.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, then wandered off to look in the sitting room.
What she found was a typically all-boys house. A worn L-shaped sofa was strewn with remote controls and gadgets. Bike parts piled up in one corner of the room and game stations were stacked on the TV console. A stack of biker magazines teetered on the coffee table, next to which a coffee mug was growing mold.
She took the chance to go to the bathroom, which was filled with competing male deodorant and after shave lotions. The bedroom doors stood open but she did little more than peep in, seeing as she didn’t know which room was Rory’s. She was curious though. Perhaps he’d show her, later. A tingle of anticipation ran through her, keeping her edgy and wired. As much as she wanted to give his offered meal her full attention—he was going to a lot of effort—she also really wanted to get closer to him, physically. Her first time was behind her. Her appetite for more of Rory’s lovemaking had been growing by leaps and bounds.
By the time she’d had a good look around and got back, he was layering pasta sheets and sauce in a deep dish.
“I’m impressed.” She nodded at the food.
“You haven’t tasted it yet.”
“True.”
“Take a seat, I’ll open the wine.”
“That guy from last night, does he know where you live?”
He tensed and she thought he might not answer, but he did. “No. I only moved in here a few months back, I made sure he didn’t know.”
“Sorry,” she said quickly, “I promised myself I wouldn’t talk about it.”
“Let’s talk about you instead.” His gaze lingered on her.
“Okay.” Se wondered what she was letting herself in for.
“Something I wondered. Were you always called Sky?
She laughed. It wasn’t what she was expecting.
“I mean, is it your real name, on your birth certificate?”
“Yup, mum had become a fully-fledged pagan by the time we all came along. Rowan and Draco got off more lightly than me. Other kids didn’t call them out for their names as much as they did me.”
“You never took crap from anyone though did you?”
“No, in fact I was always far too ready to stand up for myself.”
The sound of his laughter pleased her. A deep gravely sound, genuinely amused. He flashed his eyes at her while he worked on the meal. “Isn’t that the truth.”
They held each other’s gaze, smiling. It felt comfortable for a moment. Normal even. “Why Rory? Was it a family name?”
“My Mum’s choice, it was her father’s name.”
“I never knew that.”
“It’s odd isn’t it, we were forced to be like family and yet we hardly know each other at all.”
“We know each other a lot better now,” she said mischievously.
“We certainly do.” He flung a towel over his shoulder and he stretched, showing the taut strength of his neck and shoulders. With a brooding stare, his eyes spoke to her about sex.
Sky felt as if he’d touched her, and it set her alight.
“Nearly done here.” He grated cheese over the loaded lasagna dish, slid it into the oven and set the timer. He stepped over to cupboard and pulled two glasses out.
“The lasagna won’t be ready for forty-five minutes, and I intend to spend every moment of that time getting to know you even better.”
Sky tried to stay calm, but her pulse raced. “Forty-five minutes, huh? Perfect.”
“Why do you think I chose to make lasagna?”
She watched the way he moved around the kitchen, admiring him. Every move, every stretch, made her aware of his masculinity, his strength.
Setting the glasses on the table, he filled them with wine.
He handed her glass, then chinked his own against it. “Slainte.”
She smiled. He’d taught her the Irish phrase back at home. “Good health.”
He nodded, pleased.
“I brought you something.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the key fob she’d bought for him—a polished stainless steel skull and crossbones mounted on black leather. “It’s the spare key for the new lock at my place.”
“Your landlord gave you the spare?”
“I had to ask, said it was for family to check on me. He wouldn’t have given me it otherwise.”
He looked as if he was about to ask something else, but the front door sprang open and a guy, presumably one of his biker housemates, arrived into the kitchen. He had a bag of groceries in one hand.
“Hey buddy,” Rory said, “this is Sky. Sky, my housemate, Kristaps.”
Sky checked out the new arrival. He was a bulky guy, all muscled and a shaved head. He had a tribal tattoo snaking up from under his T-shirt around the back of his neck. “Hello.”
The guy, Kristaps, put out his hand. When she took it, he nearly crushed her hand in his. He gave her a grin and then turned his attention to his groceries, which he quickly unloaded into the fridge.
“I’m cooking,” Rory said. “You’re welcome to join us.”
Krsitaps looked at Sky with curiosity. “Sure, but if you’re cooking for your girlfriend…?”
Sky looked at Rory expectantly, wondering what he’d say.
Rory looked as if he was trying to figure out how to answer.
Before he had a chance, Kristaps spoke again. “No, wait… I recognize you from the family photo he has in his room, Your Rory’s sister, right?” He laughed loudly. “Sorry buddy, I just realized I said your sister is your girlfriend.”
Sky shook her head. “Stepsister, no relation. And yes, he is sleeping with me.”
Kristaps shoved his hands into his pockets, eyebrows arching. “Right, I see.” He laughed again, albeit more falsely. “Forbidden fruit, huh?” He winked at Rory.
An awkward silence filled the room.
Kristaps gathered himself. “I got to go join the guys at the gym. Maybe meet you at the pub later on?”
Sky looked at Rory, curious.
“Maybe.” He smiled.
“Ah, right,” Kristaps replied then waved and left.
Rory groaned at her. “That rebellious streak of yours surfaces far too easily.”
Sky could see he was amused. Shrugging, she laughed. “I only spoke the truth.
His eyes twinkled. He pulled out a chair opposite her and sat down. “You’re a liability.”
“But you always liked that about me.”
He nodded, eyeing her over the edge of his wine glass as he sipped from it.
The atmosphere grew even more loaded.
She noticed his hand on the wine glass, how large and strong it was against the fragile vessel. She wanted to feel that hand on her again, pulling her closer while he made love to her. Sky’s pulse tripped, anticipation making her hot all over. “You have a family photo in your room?”
“Yeah.”
“So are we going to meet them at the pub later?”
He eyed her openly making no attempt to hide what he was thinking. “As I said, maybe.”
“Maybe?”
He put down his glass and rested his arms on the table, closing the space between them. “I don’t want to spend time with my housemates while you’re here.”
She liked the way that sounded, but tried not to show it too obviously, so she teased him instead. “We could all hang out together.”
A possessive look shone in his eyes. “I didn’t invite you here to share you.”
Heady with the rush, she took a deep breath. “Well, why don’t you show me which room is yours? I didn’t want to investigate in case I was in the wrong room.”
Rory didn’t need to be asked twice. Pushing back his chair, he skirted the table, reaching out for her hand and guided her to the hall and up the stairs.
It was the one with the closed door. She should have guessed. Once inside she stepped over to the dresser where the family photo stood in a black frame. It was a Christmas photo, all of them around the dinner table, party hats on, pulling funny faces at the camera. She was sitting up against Rory. The table was too small for the number of people invited anyway, which gave her the perfect excuse to be crammed up against him. The sight of it made her laugh.
“It was one crazy Christmas,” he commented.
“There were too many of us.” She took a sidelong glance at him.
“Yup, and we all planned to escape after the meal, but lost the will to live after all the food.”
“Yes, better to socialize before the meal, right?”
“Of course.”
They both knew it was going to happen but talked on, circling each other, savoring the anticipation building between them. There in his room, it was ticking in her mind, a time bomb of desire, waiting to explode. He looked so intensely male, she ached to have him over her, to feel him thrusting into her.
“I like your room.”
“You haven’t even looked at it.”
Staring at him, she shook her head. “That’s because I like you even better, so I’m looking at you.”
He closed the space between them, cupped the back of her head in one hand. “I like you too, but you’re trouble.”
“So are you.” She ran her fingers along the hard line of his jaw. The contact made the pulse in her groin thud wildly, every part of her responding to his proximity.
A concerned look flitted across his eyes. “I should have walked away when I finally got my USB back from you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. I didn’t want to die a virgin.”
“You were made for sex.”
“I am now.” She wrapped her hands over his shoulders. “The only problem is you made me enjoy it so much, I want more.”
“That was my intention.” His smile made her ache for him all over again.
She couldn’t resist teasing him back. “So despite thinking I’m trouble, you’ve put me in this constant state of arousal on purpose?”
“A necessary risk. I’ve been getting hard thinking about you since I first saw you. I’ve got a lot of erections to work off.”
There was a challenge in his eyes, making him seem even more intense.
“Do you remember that time you laid on my bed?” she asked, glancing at his bed.
“Oh yes.”
“Every time I see a bed, I see you on it, because of that day. It drove me mad.”
“Me too.” His gaze burned into her.
“I was just about to join you when your dad walked in.”
“I was just about to command you to do so when he came in.”
A shiver ran over her. “Are you about to do that now?”
With a sloping grin, he moved to the bed and laid down on it. He patted the space beside him. “Come over here, right now.”
She kicked off her boots and laid along side him.
In a heartbeat he was over her.
Moaning loudly, she writhed under him. “I’ve thought about this every day, every night.”
“Me too,” he whispered hoarsely. Staring down at her, he took her hands in his and drew them together over her head, pinning her to the spot. “Now you’ve had your first time, you’re off the leash. What do you want?”
She clasped the wooden rails on his head board. The clickety click of her opening zipper signaled his intentions, and her surrender. He had his hand inside her jeans, inside her panties, and she wanted it. “Everything!”
“Good answer.” Rising to his knees, he tugged off her jeans and panties.
She assisted, taking her top up and over her head, clicking open her bra and letting it fall away.
He moved between her open thighs, and there was concentration in his eyes as he ran the back of one knuckle down her seam, making brief but delicious contact with her clit. When she moaned aloud, he repeated the action. She reached in to kiss his mouth, hands tight on his shoulders.
She could scarcely breathe. “I need you, Rory.”
As soon as the words passed her lips, his hands were all over her—demanding and masterful. His mouth claimed hers, and she flared at his touch, turning into an elemental thing, all damp heat and eager passion.
His finger slid into her damp groove.
“Oh yes, that’s really good.” Locking his eyes. She rocked her hips, moving against his finger.
He nodded, and his eyes seemed to darken, his intensity growing by the moment. She pursed her lips, her blood rushing as she waited for him to make deeper contact. With decisive fingertips he teased a path along the insides of her thighs, his hands easing her legs apart, climbing between them as he did so. She had to bite her lip to stop from crying out when he dipped down between her legs. He kissed her clit, stroking her damp folds, opening her up with his tongue, sending shivers of pleasure through her entire groin. Her nipples were sore from being aroused. She clutched at the bed covers.
It felt as if her entire body was wired into his mouth. His actions hammered the breath out of her lungs. His thumb replaced his tongue and she felt his mouth move up against her belly. Urgent need made her grapple for him.
“I want you.” She said it just as he closed on her, and he paused.
Tracing his fingers over her naked thighs, he smiled. “What do you want?”
“Your gorgeous cock.” Desperate to be filled, she clutched at his sides. If he didn’t do it soon she would make a fool of herself.
Stripping off his T-shirt, he undid his fly. His cock bowed out, long and hard and ready.
She purred aloud, growing hornier by the moment.
Extracting a condom from his jeans pocket, he made short work of getting it on. All the while he looked at her bared flesh. There was a possessive look in his eyes.
She watched the way he rolled the rubber over his length. The very sight of it ready for her made her quiver inside. Rory’s eyes had grown hooded, and the smile that played around his mouth made him even more attractive.
He grabbed her around the buttocks with hands and gave her his length, inch by inch, before easing back—then pushing to the hilt.
She expressed relief audibly, her head crushing into he pillows as he filled her. Her knees lifted around his hips when he pressed deeper, filling her. He was fiercer in his approach than their first night, kissing her throat while he found his rhythm, his hands lifting her from the bed to get deeper still.
The single bed creaked and she chuckled.
“One day we’ll do this in a decent bed.” He stopped moving, and he cupped her jaw tightly in one hand as he looked deep into her eyes, as if forbidding her to look away.
The feeling of elation magnified. Strung out on the moment, she nodded, and clutched at him tighter still. “I like that idea.”
An intense wave of pleasure swamped her groin. Hot juices ran from the place where they were joined.
Rory gave a deep groan and let rip, his hips rolling in to hers over and over as he hit home and came. Before he withdrew, he kissed the corner of her mouth—a strange little kiss that made her smile
“I’m not done with you yet.” He stroked his cock. “On your hands and knees.”
Scrambling up, she did as instructed.
“Tell me now, what do you want?” he asked, whilst he took her from behind.
“I want it to last and last,” she cried out, poised on the edge of her orgasm.
Suddenly full again, she all but fainted. Jolting up the bed on his thrusts, she got to the point where she had to brace her arms on the bed frame to stay upright.
“Oh god yes!” She was blissfully sore, her mind and body senseless with pleasure. Moaning loudly, she drove back on to him, spilling down her thighs as she came.
Then he was on his back, pulling her over him. “Sit on me. I want to study your face while I’m inside you.”
“I can’t,” she whispered, horribly self conscious.
“You can…my little rebel heart.”
How could she resist that?
Moaning, she moved as instructed, mounting him.
He directed his cock to her and she sank down onto it, mewling like a cat. Her sensitive flesh let loose waves of pleasure, even more intense since she came.
She swayed, weak with lust and pleasure.
Rory grabbed her wrists, held her tight to him.
The totem of his erection inside her was her anchor and her pleasure beacon, and her body responded, following an innate rhythm, and she laughed gleefully, thrilled by her own brazen sexuality, She’d never felt this way, like willingly giving everything, opening herself in ways she would never have thought possible.
“Good,” he asked, eyes gleaming as he looked up at her.
Sky grinned. He looked so gorgeous and she was fucking him. “Understatement,” she breathed.
An alarm was ringing somewhere, distracting her, but barely.
“The timer is buzzing,” she cried out, her hands latched over his shoulders, her hips fast stirring them both to frenzy point.
“Let it burn,” he replied, hoarsely, “It can wait, this can’t.”
No, this can’t wait.