Mercedes
ROURKE WAS IN A HORRIBLE mood when he stalked into the house a little after eight on Friday night. I wasn’t exactly sure of what I had been expecting, but considering he had spent the last several days trying to get me to agree to this weird relationship, I thought he would be in a better mood – and on time.
Apparently, I thought wrong, because he the moment he barreled through the front door, he headed straight for the staircase, taking the steps three at a time and completely ignoring me in the process.
Shock encompassed me as I stood in the kitchen doorway and watched Rourke disappear up the staircase, followed by a swift amount of aggravation. I had been on tender hooks – a nervous freaking wreck – waiting for him to get home. I had spent hours worrying and obsessing and overthinking because of him.
What a jerk!
The anger that was beginning to bubble inside of me because of Rourke’s actions, faded away the moment he reappeared and began to descend the staircase.
“Six.” His heated blue gaze was locked on me, his lips turned up in a sexy, almost carnal looking smile. It was a smile full of promise and it made my heart leap in my chest. “You were right here, weren’t you?”
“Yep.” I nodded, clasping my hands in front of my body as I watched him approach. “You walked straight past me. Looked like you were looking for something.”
“I was,” he agreed with a smirk, closing the space between us.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” Rourke said just as he reached me. His hands clamped around my hips and then I was being dragged against a strong male chest. “You.”
My breath flew out in a helpless sigh just as Rourke covered my mouth with his.
The moment his lips touched mine, a fierce blast of pleasure rippled through my body.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pressed up on my tiptoes and fell into his kiss. Rourke’s lips against mine were demanding, urgent and a little bit desperate. And I loved every second of it. This boy knew how to kiss. Like seriously kiss. Every thrust of his tongue was deep and deliberate, controlled and sensual. He used just the right amount of force and pressure… God, I could kiss his lips forever and never grow tired of it. I knew it was a totally cliché thing to even think, but I had never been kissed like this.
Moaning weakly, I sagged against Rourke’s huge frame, shivering when I felt him tighten his arms around my waist and pull me upwards, taking my weight for me. He was so big and strong and he was giving me everything I had wanted for the past seven weeks. Possibly longer. I didn’t have a clue anymore.
“Do you want this, Six?” Rourke mumbled, tone gruff, breaking our kiss. “Do you want me?”
Obviously, I wanted this or I wouldn’t be standing in the middle of our foyer, half mounting him. But did I want the implications that arose with such a scenario? Did I want the feelings I knew would come from being with a guy like him? I had a feeling Rourke Owens would be hard to shake.
I opened my mouth, expecting to say something sensible, anything that would prevent me from falling into this inevitable trap of heartbreak, but the only thing that came out of my mouth were the words, “I want you.”
Rourke smiled a real genuine smile that made my stomach twist up in knots. “Thank fuck for that,” he said with a chuckle. “Because I honestly think I would have exploded if you changed your mind on me.”
“I kind of thought you had,” I admitted softly. He was so much taller than me and I had to crane my neck up to look at his face. “When you didn’t come home after school, I thought…” I let my words trail off before biting down on my lip. “This is all surreal to me… you liking me after hating me for so long?” I shook my head and exhaled a heavy breath before admitting, “I guess I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Rourke frowned at my words. “I’m not going to hurt you, Six.” Dropping both of his large hands to clamp my hips, he pulled me closer so that my body was flush against him. “I’ve been a dick since you got here. I get it. You don’t trust me. Hell, I don’t blame you for being wary.” His fingers dug into the skin covering my hips as he spoke. “I showed you the very worst possible version of myself,” he said huskily. “Give me a chance to show you the best.”
What the hell could I say to that?
Nothing, I decided.
Absolutely nothing.
So instead of speaking and potentially making a fool of myself, I reached up and cupped his neck with my hand before pulling his face down to mine. I was sinking; drowning in his ocean blue eyes.
Pressing my soft body against his hard chest, I clung to him, kissing him deeply and opening my mouth when I felt his tongue’s gentle probing. I wanted this. Him. Everything he was willing to give me. And because I was a chicken with words, I told him with my lips.
He held me close and his huge frame covering mine…it made me feel safe. I wasn’t used to this. But with Rourke, in his arms, I felt protected.
The growl that tore from his chest made everything south of my navel clench and throb. I was in so much trouble. So much, but I couldn’t go back now. Not now I knew that he wanted me, too.
He was surprisingly respectful, touching me in all the appropriate places; my back, my hips, my face. I was miserably dissatisfied. I wanted him to touch me like he had those nights in our rooms.
I wanted him to lose control.
God knows I had.
Pressing myself closer, I rocked against him, needing more than his kisses.
He smiled against my lips, but didn’t stop kissing me. That sort of pissed me off.
Was he screwing around with me?
Did he not want this?
I was close to ripping my clothes off and begging him to make this aching feeling go away and Rourke seemed unaffected.
Well, not totally unaffected.
The bulge in his jeans, the one pressing against my belly, told me he was aroused.
I wanted more though.
I wanted him to lose himself in me the same way I was losing myself in him.
“Take it easy,” he chuckled, breaking the kiss once more.
“Are you serious right now?” I demanded breathlessly, looking up at him with hard, lustful eyes. “I thought you wanted me?”
“Are you seriously questioning whether or not I want you?” he shot back. “Look at my dick, Six.” He made a point of gesturing to the obscenely large bulge in the front of his jeans. “I’m two fucking seconds away from exploding here.”
“You’re not acting like it.” I huffed.
“Because you asked me for something,” Rourke said with a teasing lilt of his voice. “You told me you needed my friendship before anything else.” He smiled softly before adding, “And I have every intention of giving that to you.”
“Are you playing mind games with me, Rourke?”
Was he?
One minute he wanted me, and the next he didn’t?
“Are you having second thoughts about this?” If he was going to change his mind again about us then I needed to know now. I was slipping down a steep slope when it came to this guy.
I needed to protect myself.
“Actually, I’m trying really hard not to fuck this up, Six,” Rourke shot back with a nervous chuckle. I heard the vulnerability in his voice, saw it in his eyes. His words caused my heart to constrict tightly in my chest. Reaching out, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and exhaled heavily. “I want you to be comfortable with me.”
“Comfortable?” I croaked out, a little breathless.
He nodded. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful, Six.”
“Rourke…” The soft declaration, coming from this boy, meant more to me than I wanted to admit. He meant more to me than I knew what to do with. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that.”
Rourke tightened his hold on me. “Why not?”
I exhaled a breathy sigh. I was drowning. He had me snared with his eyes and his words and his...everything. “Because.”
He ducked his head to mine and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “Because?”
Oh fuck a duck, I was in so much trouble.
“Come on, Six,” he chuckled, when I had no answer. Reaching between us, he laced his fingers through mine and said, “Let’s hang out.”
HANGING OUT WITH ROURKE was surprisingly comfortable. We ending up heading out for dinner and, after grabbing some food from the drive thru, Rourke drove us up to Sailor’s Point, the highest point in Ocean Bay that overlooked the ocean, so we could eat.
“Favorite band or singer?” he asked.
“Pink.”
“Favorite subject at school?”
“Econ.”
“Favorite food?”
“Pad Thai.”
“Favorite place you ever lived?”
“Friday Harbor.” I sighed heavily. “I miss Washington.”
“Favorite movie?”
I leaned my head back against the rest and thought about it for a moment before saying, “Rush Hour. All three of them. I can’t choose my favorite.”
“Nice,” Rourke chuckled. “Okay, favorite book?”
I smiled. “That’s easy; Harry Potter.”
He raised a brow. “Which one?”
“All of them,” I replied. “I’m a series kind of girl.”
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I climbed into to the passenger seat of his truck tonight, but this amicable companionship certainly surpassed my expectations.
He didn’t try to grope me or hit on me.
He seemed happy to just sit in his truck and talk.
Of course, listening to Rourke actually make conversation caused more problems for my heart than any amount of flirting. The tiny glimpse of the real him I was seeing blew my mind. I could love this version of him. In fact, I had a feeling I already did…
“Tell me about Britt.” My voice was soft and full of uncertainty when I asked the question I’d been dying to know the answer to.
Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Britt had played a massive role in Rourke’s life. He was in love with her once. A small part of me worried that he still was.
But then I thought about everything I had learned about him since I came here.
Rourke wasn’t a liar. He didn’t have that urge most people had to please and protect others. Rourke was brutally honest, almost savagely so. He didn’t pick and choose his words either. He came right out with it, and if you didn’t like what he had to say, then deal with it or get out of his way. He made no apologies for who he was and how he thought about things. I loved that about him. Even back in the beginning when he was being a heartless jerk to me, I always admired his honesty.
“And please,” I added, holding up a hand. “Choose your words better than last time.”
Britt is a girl I occasionally fuck.
Ugh.
“You really want to talk about her?” he asked, raising a brow.
No, I didn’t want to talk about Britt.
I had to.
Mustering up as much courage as I could, I nodded once and said, “I want to know.”
“Fine.” Reaching forward, Rourke grabbed a bottle of water from the cup holder and took a deep sip before exhaling heavily. “Ask your questions, Six.”
Tucking my legs beneath me, I angled my body to face his. “How long were you with her?”
“Five years,” he replied stiffly.
“Five years?” That was a freaking lifetime. “Since you were twelve?”
“Yeah. Britt was my first girlfriend,” he replied before releasing a harsh breath. “What am I saying? She was my only girlfriend.” Sighing, he added, “We were close growing up. She was one of my best friends. When we started dating in the sixth grade, it kind of felt…inevitable – like being with her was what I was supposed to do.”
“You lost your virginity to her?”
“Yeah. Sophomore year.”
“How old were you?”
“I don’t know… maybe sixteen?” He seemed to think about it before repeating, “No, I was still fifteen at the time. Britt was sixteen. She’s older than me by a few months.”
Oh my god. “You had sex when you were fifteen?”
He looked at me sheepishly and shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
“So, you haven’t been….” My words trailed off and I blushed a deep crimson color before forcing myself to say, “Is she the only girl you’ve been with?”
“Fuck, Six,” Rourke grumbled, rubbing a hand across his face. “Are we really going to talk about this?”
“I want to know,” I admitted, jutting my chin out.
“Fine.” Rourke threw his hands up in defeat. “Yes. Britt is the only girl I’ve ever slept with. I’ve kissed other girls since we broke up and done some other stuff, but Britt?” He paused, nostrils flaring. “She’s the only one.”
Fuck.
He really did belong to her.
“Did you love her?” I blurted out. What was I saying? Of course he loved her…
Rourke nodded once, the movement stiff and almost reluctant like it was painful for him to admit this to me.
My heart sank. “Do you still love her?”
Rourke’s jaw clenched and he stared out the window for the longest time before turning his attention back to my face. “I’m not in love with her anymore.”
His answer bothered me. Because he didn’t say he didn’t love her. He said he wasn’t in love with her anymore.
Maybe I was reading too much into his words, but I wanted him so badly to tell me that he hated her guts. It would have made me feel a million times better. Even if I was only his friend with benefits.
“What happened?” I forced myself to ask.
“I got tired of being second best.” Rourke’s voice was low and gruff, his blue eyes locked intently on mine. “That’s what I’ve always been in Britt’s eyes; her backup plan.” He shook his head and sighed. “I was never gonna be her endgame, Six. Not like I should have been. So, we broke up. Junior year.”
“Second best?” I asked, confused, wondering how on earth anyone could look at Rourke and consider him second best. Rourke Owens was second to none. Even when I hated him, I knew that. This boy was nobody’s backup plan.
“Yeah.” He laughed harshly and it was a pained sound. It hurt my heart. His blue eyes narrowed when he said, “After the ninth or tenth time I caught her cheating on me, I’d had enough.” He shrugged helplessly. “Figured I’d rather be alone than with a liar.”
“Was she your endgame, Rourke?” I dared to ask.
“At the time, yeah,” he admitted hoarsely. “She was.”
“And now?” I paused before asking, “What’s your endgame?”
“Now?” He exhaled heavily. “My endgame is to get the hell out of this town as soon as I graduate.”
He had a plan just like mine.
How ironic.
“But you continued to sleep with her?” My voice sounded far more accusatory than I had intended. “Why do that to yourself?” I added in a softer tone of voice. “When you knew she was doing you wrong like that?”
“Because I couldn’t forgive her and I couldn’t move on from her,” he shot back honestly. “I was stuck and Britt was…familiar.”
“Rourke…”
“I know it sounds bad, Six,” Rourke interrupted, running a hand roughly through his hair. “But it’s the only answer I have.”
“Thank you for telling me.” If Rourke was expecting me to judge him then he had me totally wrong. “And FYI? Britt’s a fucking idiot for letting you go.”
His gaze softened. “You think so?”
Reaching across the console, I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I know so.”
“What about you?” Rourke asked, blue eyes sparkling with mischief, obviously keen to veer the subject away from him. “Don’t try to tell me you didn’t leave a trail of broken hearts back in Kansas”
I scoffed. “Doubtful.”
Rourke raised a brow in disbelief. “I find that hard to believe, Six.”
“Yeah, well it’s the truth,” I shot back. “My last boyfriend gave up on me when after six months of dating, the furthest he’d managed to get was a hand job.”
Rourke looked at me in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shook my head. “I kid you not. Peter called me ‘high-maintenance’ because I wouldn’t put out.” I forced back a shudder at the thought. “He broke up with me right before junior prom and went with Sarah Landes instead.” I leaned my head back and grimaced at the memory. “Of course, I have no doubt he got what he wanted from Sarah that night, though I don’t know for sure, since I blew off the dance and took a shift at work instead.”
“What douche nozzle,” Rourke said in a tone laced with disgust.
“Uh-huh.” I nodded in total agreement. “He was a mistake.”
“A should have been swallowed kind of mistake?” he asked with a teasing wink.
“Yes,” I laughed. “Definitely one of those.”
“Before him?”
“Um…” I paused as I thought back. “There was Michael Dauntez. We dated for a couple of months when Mom and I lived in Nevada.” I smiled fondly at the memory. “He had worse luck than Peter,” I laughed. “He didn’t even manage to slip the tongue when he kissed me. But then again, we were in the seventh grade, so what did he really expect from me?”
Rourke grinned. “You make guys work for it?”
“Absolutely,” I replied with a smile. “I wasn’t going to let some hormonal teenage boy climb into my pants just because he paid me a slither of attention – I’m not my mother.”
“Are you a virgin, Six?” Rourke asked, surprising me with his bluntness. His eyes were heated and focused solely on my mine.
“Do I look like a virgin to you?” I shot back defensively, folding my arms across my chest.
I had nothing to be ashamed of. Being a virgin at my age should have been a heck of lot more common than it was, but admitting it to Rourke was not easy.
“I think that’s a question I’d be a fool to answer,” he shot back, tone gruff. “I’d rather you tell me then to make assumptions.”
I didn’t want to scare him off by telling him that I’d never had sex with another guy. I wasn’t a prude and knew all about the messy aftermath of a girl’s first-time.
What if he was grossed out by the blood and pain?
Would it be painful for him, too?
I knew it would hurt me.
Rourke had obviously been through this with Britt before.
What if he wasn’t interested in a virgin?
“I’ve done it before,” I blurted out, cheeks flushed, as I struggled to maintain my composure. “Loads of times.”
“Loads of times?”
“That’s right.”
Rourke stared at me for the longest moment with an expression I didn’t recognize before reaching out and catching ahold of my chin.
My heart stopped in my chest and I exhaled a shaky breath.
Was he mad?
He didn’t look mad.
He looked…strangely possessive.
Pulling my face to his, Rourke pressed a hard kiss to my lips before pulling back and saying, “Don’t ever lie to me again.” With his heated blue eyes on mine, he continued to hold my chin with his hand. “You got it?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, feeling lightheaded and strangely buzzed. “I’ve got it.”