Rory

by Saskia Walker

  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.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The morning chatter in the tradesman’s café zoned Rory out.

  The Tuesday-Thursday girl smiled at him from behind the counter while he gave their order. She was pretty cute, and she kept giving him the come-on. He’d been thinking of asking her out on a date. Then Sky had happened.

  Once the order was in, he looked away from Tuesday-Thursday girl and glanced out the window. He didn’t see the people on the street outside though, he saw Sky. Her smile filled his mind, the sound of her laughter too. How had she done this? She’d made him crazy, not fit to think about much else but her. The mischief in her eyes alone was powerful enough to trigger his sex drive, let alone when she moved in against him with a beckoning look in those eyes.

  He admitted it to himself now, and it brought about a pressing concern.

  Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he scrolled through his contacts until he got to Draco’s number. Then he paused and gave it some serious thought. Ever since their run in with Jackson, it’d been preying on his mind. Draco should know he wasn’t just ‘hanging out’ with Sky.

  How was he going to explain it though? And how would Draco react?

  He’d always been weird about the attraction between them, as if he couldn’t completely shake off the family angle, even though he was the one who mocked it more openly than the rest of them. His favorite thing was to tell their parents he didn’t subscribe to their Brady Bunch set up. So why did it grate on him when his sister was with Rory? Maybe Draco had an issue with Sky seeing a computer hacker, ex or not. The idea ticked Rory off, and he hit dial.

  They hadn’t been in touch for a while, not properly, and not since they’d moved out of the one room dive they used to share. The guilt about Sean’s arrest weighed heavily on them both, but they’d dealt with it in different ways. Rory channeled his energies towards his love of motorbikes and his new job as a mechanic. Draco moved out of the city for a dull-as-ditchwater job dismantling computers for recycling. Recently, though, Draco’s Facebook status had been updated, for the first time in months. Draco was back in London, for a job, apparently.

  “Rory?” Draco sounded tense. “What can I do for you? Is Sky okay?”

  “Yes, she’s fine. I saw her home. Look, can we meet? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  “News about Sean?”

  Draco sounded hopeful, and Rory’s gut tightened. It created tension between them, amongst other things. “No, nothing new there. Sorry to say he’s going to have to serve the full sentence. It’s Jackson, in part, I want to discuss what I intend to do, get you on board. And there’s something else, but I’d rather meet face-to-face. Are you back in London full time?”

  “I am. Shall I come down to the workshop at the close of business?”

  “Sounds good.”

  * * * *

  “What’s with the suit?” Rory said when Draco strolled in later that evening.

  He couldn’t help but ask. He’d noticed it the other night, but there hadn’t been time to ask. Today Draco was wearing an even flashier number. Blue three piece suit, with a crisp white shirt, blue tie.

  Draco glanced around, waved over at George. He’d visited a couple of times when Rory first got started there, but not recently. “I got a job in the city.”

  “Seriously?” Rory was impressed. Then a doubt hit him. Was he still hacking? If he was, it still didn’t explain the suit, although Rory wasn’t totally convinced Draco would stick to the pact they’d made when Sean was arrested.

  Rory wiped his hands on a rag and stood up. “I’d offer to shake hands but I wouldn’t want to muss up your snazzy outfit.”

  “Yeah, well I’m not sure I want to shake hands.” Draco eyeballed him meaningfully.

  Rory ignored it. “What is it you’re doing?”

  Draco shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s pretty new, and to be honest I’m still a bit wary, don’t know if I’ll last.”

  Rory was curious. “We could go get a drink you can tell me all about it.”

  “Actually I can’t stay long. Got a business meeting soon.”

  “A business meeting in the evening?”

  “Well, I suppose it might be called a date.”

  “Sounds like a cushy job to me.”

  “I wish. At the minute I’m wondering what the hell I got into.”

  Rory frowned. “You haven’t been hacking?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Draco replied, quickly. “Well, not really.” He pushed his fingers through his hair and looked a little uneasy. “Anyway, enough about me. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Jackson. I intend to destroy the tool kit.”

  “Why you asking me?”

  “I just want to be sure you don’t need it.”

  “No, this job is different.”

  Again Rory’s curiosity hooked, but Draco didn’t look as if he wanted to talk about it. “I thought maybe Sean would need it, but he doesn’t need the temptation when he comes out. Last time I mentioned it he said no, and I was relieved.”

  “Figures. So what are you waiting for?”

  “I need to handle it right.” He went on to run his idea past Draco.

  Draco broke into a grin. “I like it. Smart move.”

  Relieved Rory nodded. “Your sister pointed out I had to do it in front of Jackson or it would never end.” Shit. He’d mentioned Sky already.

  Draco eyeballed him in that way of his, then smirked. “Clever girl. She’s turned out even smarter than I expected, and I always knew she’d be canny.”

  Rory refrained from commenting. He didn’t need Draco to get his back up again. “Did you know she’s in London, before we met that night?”

  “Yes.” He shrugged. “Facebook.”

  “Right.” Tension hung between them. Rory pressed on. “Well, we bumped into each other and it was entirely by chance.”

  Draco pursed his lips but didn’t respond, so Rory carried on.

  “She’s working as a barista on Paddington station an
d she’s trying to get a place in Art College next term. She’s pretty much alone in the city. I thought you might want to get in touch with her.” Rory added the last grudgingly. It was danger limitation he was doing here. He didn’t want Draco to find out about him and Sky from anyone else.

  “Sure.” Draco pulled his phone from his pocket. “Text me the number.”

  “I will, but there’s something else you should know.”

  Draco looked up from his phone expectantly.

  Rory tried to find the words, glancing away and back again as he considered the best way to break the news.

  “You’re seeing her, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did she come to London to find you?”

  Rory frowned. “No. She came for college. But we’re seeing each other and I wanted you to hear it from me.”

  Draco sighed “You two were magnets. It was bound to happen eventually.”

  “You knew?”

  “It’d be hard not to. You always had the serious hots for each other.”

  “I want you to know I respect her, I’ll look after her. I’d prefer it if we had your approval.”

  Draco stared at him, eyes overcast. “I doubt there’s a lot I could do if I didn’t approve. Sky’s a stubborn, headstrong girl.”

  Rory laughed. “That’s the truth.”

  Draco gave him a warning glance.

  “She needs to get into college,” Rory added, quickly, “make something of her dreams.”

  “I’ll help if I can. Tell her to let me know what she needs.”

  Rory nodded. “If we both back her, it’ll happen.”

  The suggestion seemed to ease Draco’s mood. He looked at his watch. “I’m going to have to get going, don’t want to disappoint my new boss.”

  Rory’s curiosity rose. He’d said it might be a date. “The new boss is a woman?”

  “Not quite. The new boss is a guy. It’s his daughter who approached me about the job. I’m meeting her this evening.” He was about to walk away, but turned back. “Hey, if I need you to help me out with something, would you?”

  “I take it you don’t mean with the woman?”

  Draco cracked a smile, finally. “No. The lady I can handle.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “It could be.” There was a spark there in Draco’s eyes.

  Rory shrugged. “As long as you’re agreeable about me seeing Sky, I’m at you’re service.”

  Draco lifted his chin, hooded eyes inscrutable. “You’ll take good care of her?”

  “I won’t ever hurt her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Draco nodded, then strode off at a pace.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The muffled sound of a phone ringing woke Rory. Blinking in the gloom, he tried to figure out where he was. On Sky’s futon.

  Once he’d assured himself it wasn’t his ring tone, and it wasn’t close by, he pulled the warm soft woman snuggled against him closer. It was only just past dawn, the crack of light between the curtains weak and pale.

  Sky sighed.

  He closed his eyes and gave her an approving squeeze on her backside.

  She pulled free.

  Opening one eye, he saw her roll away and reach down the side of the futon, mumbling to herself while she hunted through her abandoned clothes. The ring tone grew louder. She perched on the edge of the bed while she answered the call.

  She acknowledged the caller briefly then listened.

  The crack of dawn light from the window fell across her back. It made him open his eyes wider and study her. Her skin seemed luminescent, adorably soft and feminine. Her bottom against the rumpled bed clothes made the most perfect image. Unable to stop himself, he reached out one hand to touch the soft curve of her hip, needing to touch what he wanted.

  She didn’t respond, and he realized she was concentrating on what was being said. At first he made no other move, but when she exclaimed loudly and rose from the bed, hurriedly grabbing a sweater as she left the room and darted into the bathroom, he began to take more notice of the call itself, not the recipient.

  When he lifted his head from the pillows, he could just about hear her.

  The tone of her voice was stressed, concerned even, and the fact she spoke in Welsh registered quickly. There was a problem at home. He understood the odd word, things he’d picked up while living in Cadogan. It impressed him when she and Rowan conversed in Welsh, so he’d listened. Some of the words were similar to Gaelic but he hadn’t kept his national language up. The Welsh people were better at keeping their ancient language alive.

  It had to be Rowan, or a friend. Whoever it was had got her attention, and whatever they’d said had upset her. A boyfriend maybe? She hadn’t had a full relationship before, didn’t mean she hadn’t been seeing someone after he left.

  The question set him in motion.

  What’d really happened back in Wales to send her running off to London? She’d mentioned being chucked out of College. He rolled onto his front and reached for his phone, pulling it onto the pillow so that she wouldn’t be able to see what he was doing if she came back in.

  He did a search on her name and the name of her college.

  While he was waiting on the browser to refresh he glanced down and noticed a T-shirt sticking out from under the futon. Tugging on the soft grey fabric, he extracted it from under the wooden bed frame. Opening it up he stared at it, confused for a moment. It was one of his own, one he hadn’t seen for years.

  It was some dodgy band who’d played locally. He’d thought them kind of interesting, well, interesting enough to buy a T shirt. He frowned, trying to place their sound. They hadn’t yet risen to fame. Perhaps it was the T-shirt he’d liked. Whatever it was, he knew the T-shirt was his. And Sky had it.

  When she came back into the room, he quickly closed down his browser, making a mental note to take a look another time. She’d been dismissive about the fight at college, she’d laughed it off. Was that all there was to it?

  “You okay?” He knew she wasn’t.

  Instantly, he felt her distress, right inside, knotting in his chest.

  Her eyes were damp and she paced about as if confused. “I have to leave, right away. Nan’s in hospital.” She began sorting through her clothing. “They think she’s had a minor stroke. I need to see her, got to get a train ticket and fast.”

  Rory leapt up. Arresting her in his grasp, he put a stop to her wandering. “I’ll take you. We’ll go on the bike. It’ll be quicker.”

  She stared up at him, eyes brimming with tears. “You’d really do that for me?”

  “Of course.” He rested a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll have to swing by Halliday’s for the bike, I left it at work. I’ll phone George and let him know what we’re doing. You get your backpack.”

  She frowned. “I’ll have to phone my supervisor.”

  “Okay, pack your bag then phone work when you get it together. Tell them it’s a family emergency. You think you’ll be okay for the journey?”

  She nodded. I’ve been on the back of your bike before, I still remember.”

  “This will be a much longer journey.” He didn’t want to take any risks with her safety and she looked distracted.

  She looked back at him steadily and he was reassured.

  “I really appreciate this. I’d be a wreck going on the trains.”

  “Hey, I’m here for you. Don’t worry.” He hugged her against him. It wasn’t something he was used to doing, caring and guiding someone else in life, but it felt right. His vision was clear and he wanted to do the right thing by her. “I could never just put you on a train.”

  Within ten minutes they were on the tube.

  Sky was quiet, really quiet. He sensed how troubled she was. He held her against him, soothing her with his hand stroking her back through her jacket. Her supervisor had only agreed to one day off. It annoyed the hell out of him. She needed a better job.

  By the time they got
to the workshop, George was already out front, wiping his hands on a rag as if he was expecting them to arrive at any moment.

  Rory darted over to him. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to have the time off to take her home?”

  “Rory, this is the first time you’ve asked me for a day off since you came here. Take whatever time you need. I’ve given your bike a quick service, changed the oil.”

  “I appreciate it.” Rory was relieved. “I’ll make the time up.”

  George looked at Sky. “Pretty as a picture.”

  She was tying her hair into a plait as she waited.

  “You’re a real couple now, huh?”

  Rory nodded, not doubting it for a second.

  “Worried about what your dad might think?”

  “No way. I don’t care what he thinks.”

  “That’ll change. You will care, one day. You’ll have to be ready.”

  Rory wasn’t sure how he felt about it, so he shrugged.

  George nodded over at Sky. “Has she got any gloves to wear?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  George headed inside, opened up the drawer and shuffled things around. He returned with a pair of gloves. “Samples,” he explained. “These will be a bit big for her but they’re new and she’ll get really cold on that ride.”

  “Thanks, George.”

  “Come on then, introduce us.”

  Rory made the introductions.

  “Pleased to meet you, Sky. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  She mustered a weak smile for George. “I’ve heard a lot about you too.” She nodded at the arch above. “I love your sign.”

  Rory hadn’t looked closely for a long while, having got used to it. But he could see why it appealed to her. In tune with the classic biker vibe, George had commissioned the sign to look like an old fighter jet, with a pin-up stunner wrapped around the vintage style lettering for Halliday’s biker workshop.

  George held out the gloves. “Put these on, sweetheart, that route to Wales will be harsh at this time of year and the forecast isn’t good.” Addressing Rory, he added. “Don’t be tempted to nudge the speed limit. You’ll lose more time if you’re stopped by the police.”