Rogue Rascal (The Rourkes, Book 9)

by Kylie Gilmore

  “I’ll replace the shirt and sexy panties I ripped,” I tell her.

  “You must’ve really liked those panties. It was so wild when you ripped them right off my body.”

  I kiss her hair. “Call me crazy, but I liked the sensible plain panties too. They’re just so you. Don’t get me wrong, the black lace is great. There’s just something about peeling you out of your sensible things and watching you let loose. I knew you would be like that after the first time I kissed you for real. I felt your passion.”

  She sighs, idly stroking my chest. “Here’s a sad but true fact. That kiss was the first time I’ve ever felt passion.”

  My arm tightens around her possessively. That means something. She only felt comfortable enough to let go with me, or maybe it was our amazing chemistry. Either way, it’s a high compliment. Is it possible chemistry and a shared sense of humor is enough to cancel out all our differences? I’m not sure I’ll ever feel comfortable with her parents, but the two of us, that’s a real possibility. There’s definitely something here, something special and different.

  She goes on. “I like the new racy panties. They make me feel adventurous. Maybe I wanted to feel a little differently than regular sensible me.”

  A voice in my head says maybe I’m something she’s trying out to feel a little adventurous too. She’ll learn to let loose and feel the passion she was always capable of and then set me aside for the kind of guy she normally goes for. Like Charlie with his expensive suits, expensive degrees, and fat paycheck. I’m not going to ask. Mostly because I don’t want to hear it’s true.

  A warning bell goes off in my head. I shouldn’t let myself get too close. It’ll only hurt more when she moves on.

  I’m already too close. Since when do I invite a woman to spend the night? I think this counts as cuddling too. I never do that either.

  I casually remove my arm from her shoulders and roll away from her, reaching for the remote on the nightstand. I give myself a mental pat on the back for the smooth move that gives me some distance while not arousing suspicion.

  I turn the TV on and flip to the sports channel, setting the remote back on the nightstand. “Just wanna catch the game highlights. You a Yankees fan?” I assume she is since Sam’s a die-hard fan.

  “Actually, I like the Mets.”

  I do a double take. “Now that’ll get you kicked out of bed.” I grab her by the waist, swing her right over me and onto the floor next to the bed.

  Her hair’s all mussed and wild, her voice indignant. “I was kidding! The Yankees were on TV all the time growing up.”

  I jab a finger at her. “Never kid about the Yanks.”

  She grins and crawls over me. “I thought you liked a sense of humor.”

  I pinch her chin and give her my most stern expression. “Some things are sacred.”

  “Can I make it up to you?” she asks, dropping a kiss on my chest and then lower. “Anything I can do?”

  “We’ll see,” I manage as her tongue trails down my abs. “If you try really—” I suck in air as her mouth closes over my cock.

  She’s perfect.

  I’m spending the whole weekend right here in this bed with her.

  Yes, yes, yes.

  10

  Jack

  I may have let myself get a little too into Riley, beyond just girlfriend-boyfriend territory. Somehow my first relationship went from brand new to practically moving in. I look out the front window of my apartment, wondering if it’s too late to call her off. She’s on her way over for an extended stay since she’s off work for the Fourth of July holiday and the rest of the week. Here’s the thing—the sex is fantastic, so that got me thinking more would be better, so we spent last weekend together. No big. Just the weekend. On Monday, we both went back to work. There was breathing room. But that night, I missed her in my bed. I couldn’t stop replaying our weekend together, here and in the city on Sunday.

  Still, I held strong.

  I mean, yeah, I texted her Monday night just to see how her day went, like you do when you’re getting to know someone. We ended up texting back and forth for a while, and I was really wishing she was with me. That’s when I realized we both had Wednesday off for the Fourth of July, so I invited her to spend it with me here in Brooklyn, which is when she asked if I had the rest of the week off like she does. I don’t, but what did I do? I impulsively invited her to pack a bag and spend the long weekend, Wednesday through Sunday. In retrospect, that’s a long time, but I figured even though I have to work Thursday and Friday, it would be great to have her in my bed when I got home.

  I rub my temple. I went overboard. Five straight days together? And Sunday she asked me to go to her parents’ house in New Jersey for Sam and Alison’s welcome home party. It’s almost like we’re living together, which everyone knows is halfway to being married for real. I’m getting cold feet. I can’t believe how deep I got so fast when I’ve never had a real relationship in my life.

  Worse, I have to stop in at my family barbecue at my parents’ house today. It’s one of those American holidays my father embraced when he became an American citizen, and it means a lot to him. I can’t miss it. Problem is, I’ve never brought a woman home before. I’m sure my parents are going to make a bigger deal out of it than it is. I’m only bringing her because she’s visiting and I have to go. It’s not like I specifically wanted her to meet them. Oh, man, my brothers are going to give me so much shit for this. I deserve it. I’ve dished it out over the years.

  My brain scrambles for an out. Maybe I can make a quick stop at my parents’ house before she arrives, and then Riley and I can spend the rest of the day together with no Rourke family involvement whatsoever. That’s a stellar plan. I should’ve thought this through and planned it better. It’s noon and my parents will have the grill going by now. I’ll tell Riley to stop by around four. She said she had to do laundry before she left anyway.

  I pull out my phone to text her when the intercom buzzes. I freeze, feeling a little guilty, like I was just caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

  It buzzes again, and I start moving, my pulse kicking up. She’s here. Okay, we’re really going to do this. My shoulders tense just thinking of the gauntlet I’m going to be put through with my family over her. All because I gave in to the lust I’ve been holding back since Vegas. Probably built up before that too. I think the temptation was made worse by Sam warning me off. It made it build to insane levels. No man could hold out against that for long. Now here I am about to practically live with her and introduce her to my family. Like a real serious-as-a-heart-attack relationship. I go cold and then hot. Maybe I’m coming down with something. A fever would be convenient right now. I press a hand to my forehead. Normal.

  I blow out a breath. I can’t leave her on the sidewalk forever.

  I hit the intercom. “Come up.”

  “Don’t you want to know who it is?” she asks in a teasing voice.

  My lips curve up, some of the tension leaving me at the sound of her voice, ready for fun. “Get up here, ya goof.” I hit the buzzer for the door.

  A few moments later, there’s a knock at the door. I open it and take her in—her dark brown hair is tied back in a low ponytail, and she’s wearing a white floral-print dress with a modest V-neck, short sleeves, ending just past her knees. A red belt cinches at the waist, emphasizing her narrow waist and her curvy hips. White ballet flats. I know exactly what she looks like under her modest dress, and the fact that her sexy body is hidden makes lust surge through me in a hot dizzying rush.

  “Ry,” I say hoarsely before yanking her inside, slamming the door, and pinning her against it. I kiss her deeply. God, I missed this. She tastes like mint and sexy woman. I reach down to the hem of the dress, sliding my hand up her bare thigh, searching for my prize. My hand connects with a generous amount of cotton. Yes! The sensible Riley panties.

  I break the kiss. “You wore them.”

  “Yes,” she says in a breathy voice. “That
was some welcome kiss, but my suitcase is still in the hall. Can you get it?”

  “Later,” I mutter and drop to my knees in front of her. I hike her dress up, the fabric bunched in one fist as I kiss her through her damp panties. I hear her sharp intake of breath, and kiss her more, feeling her get wetter. Oh God. I slide her panties down and off and hand her the hem of her dress. “Hold this.” Then I grab her by the hips and taste her. She tastes so good it makes me greedy for more. A moment later, her knees buckle, and I hold her tighter, pressing her back against the door.

  She chants my name, and I keep going, sliding a finger inside her and then another. Her voice trails off. She gets quiet when she’s close, her body clenching around my fingers, her breath ragged. I suck gently, and she cries out, her hips arching as she comes. I glance up at her in ecstasy, head thrown back, eyes closed, her lips parted. Beautiful. I let her ride it out until she goes limp.

  Then I stand and grab the condom from my pocket, prepared this time and not able to wait another second. I free myself, slide it on, and lift her against the wall. Her dark eyes fly open at the sudden movement. She’s still wearing this amazing dress that makes me crazy.

  “Hang on to me,” I order.

  She wraps her arms around my neck quickly. I shove her dress up out of the way and thrust inside her tight heat, the most exquisite pleasure and relief rolling through me. I hold myself still, my eyes closing as I try to slow it down.

  Her ankles lock around my waist, and I fight the urge to pound into her. I want to take more care with her. She’s special.

  I press my lips to her neck, letting my teeth scrape against her. She shivers. “Tell me what you want.”

  She lifts her hips, taking me deeper. “I want you to fuck me hard.”

  My control snaps, and I do exactly that, thrusting hard and fierce, needing to join with her as close as I can get. Her throaty moans drive me on, her nails digging into my shoulders. There’s nothing but intense primal need, building and building. My teeth sink into her neck as the orgasm roars through me, and I collapse against her. We stay like that for a few moments, glued together, while I catch my breath.

  She strokes the hair at the nape of my neck. “I think we’re going to be late for the barbecue.”

  I smile against her neck, so relaxed I’m not even anxious thinking about the barbecue. “You were just too tempting in this dress.”

  She laughs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy so turned on by my wardrobe before. To think I bought all this lingerie for nothing. All I had to do was put on my regular panties and dress.”

  I lift my head. “What did you buy?”

  She kisses me, running her fingers through my hair with a smile. “It’s in the suitcase you left in the hall in your hurry to have me.”

  I smile. “You’re playing with fire walking in here dressed all sensible and modest. You know I have to muss you up and get you nice and loose.”

  “I’m so loose I could take a nap.”

  “Great idea.” I carry her toward my bedroom, still wrapped around me.

  “What about my suitcase?” she protests.

  I lift her off me and set her on her feet. “I’ll get it.” I button and zip my jeans and leave my T-shirt loose to hang down. I open the door, snag her wheeled suitcase, and set it inside.

  I turn just as she’s sliding her panties back on.

  “You trying to tempt me again?” I drawl.

  Her cheeks flush pink. “We can’t be that late. What will they think?”

  “They’ll think we were having sex.”

  “Jack!”

  I raise my brows. “Which must be exactly what you wanted bringing those sensible panties into my space.” I lunge toward her, and she squeaks, running the only way she can go, back toward the bedroom.

  I chase her down and grab her from behind. She yelps.

  I wrap my arms around her waist, a rush of affection making me confide close to her ear, “I missed you.”

  She relaxes back against me and sighs. “I missed you too. Are you sure you’re up to having me here for the long holiday weekend? I don’t have to stay the whole time.”

  My arms tighten around her. “I’m sure.”

  “Then let’s get over to the barbecue, stay just long enough to be social, and come back here for some naked fun. I can’t believe you didn’t give me a chance to get my dress off before we hooked up. I’m sure it’s wrinkled now.”

  I turn her to face me and inspect the dress. It’s made of some material that doesn’t seem to wrinkle. Still, I can’t help but tease her. “You’re right. Lemme fix it.” I smooth my hands down over her generous breasts.

  “Jack!” She grabs my wrists, but I keep going, smoothing the dress in light flicks over her nipples. “Jack.” This time my name is a moan.

  “Just a few more wrinkles,” I say seriously as I stroke her dress straight down and between her legs.

  “More,” she whispers.

  The woman is insatiable. Thank God.

  Riley

  I’m starting to trust that Jack and I are really a thing. He invited me for the long holiday weekend, and here I am heading to his parents’ house for the Rourke family Fourth of July barbecue. It’s a gorgeous sunny summer day. We’re a little late because when I arrived at Jack’s apartment, he took one look at me in my white floral print dress and took me up against the wall. He couldn’t even wait to get to the bedroom! I’ve never had that effect on any man. It’s a huge ego boost and so much fun. I feel bubbly happy in a way I haven’t since I passed the final part of my CPA exam. Gah, I’m such a nerd. This sexy fun time with Jack is a million times better than that!

  We arrive at the sidewalk in front of the brick rowhouse where he grew up, but instead of going in, he just stands there, taking a few deep breaths. He looks a little pale.

  “Are you okay?” I ask. Maybe he’s worn out from lifting me as he thrust over and over and over. And then he lifted me again in the shower, which I requested so we’d smell less like sex. He’s very accommodating, yet somehow very demanding at the same time. I flush hot. Stop the dirty trip down memory lane! It’s just that I’ve never enjoyed sex so much. He’s amazing. Like multiple orgasm gasping for breath amazing. I can’t begrudge his past experience with other women when it makes him such a superb lover.

  He looks to the sky, his expression strained. Weird. He was so warm and playful earlier.

  “Jack?”

  “Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Guess I should mention you’re the first woman I’ve ever brought home. They might make a big deal.”

  Aww! I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. “Just tell them I’m the stripper you picked up in Vegas.”

  He hugs me, his laughter vibrating through his chest. “You kill me, Ry. Like anyone would believe you were a stripper.”

  “Is it my prairie-girl dress?” I’m teasing. It’s not that old-fashioned.

  He leans back and snags the red belt that cinches at my waist. “This is not a prairie-girl dress. It’s pure Riley.” His blue eyes are warm on mine. “Okay, let’s go in.”

  He guides me up the stoop to the front door, one hand on the small of my back. The door’s unlocked and we walk through. The house seems to be empty of people. He guides me through the kitchen, dining room, and out the back door. I step out into the small fenced-in backyard first, where everyone’s gathered, Jack close behind me.

  Conversation halts. All eyes are on us. The only sound is Neil Diamond singing “America” on low volume from a speaker somewhere.

  I glance around nervously, spotting several guys who have to be his brothers. The family resemblance is striking. Several older couples and a couple of women are mixed in with the lot.

  I give a little wave. “Hi, everyone.”

  “Sorry we’re late,” Jack says tightly.

  Everyone continues to stare wordlessly.

  “Didn’t you tell them you were bringing me?” I ask him under my breath.

  �
��No,” he says in a low voice. “I didn’t want them to make a big deal.”

  “This feels like a big deal anyway,” I whisper fiercely. “Fix it!”

  He gestures toward me. “This is Riley.”

  A brunette woman in her fifties springs into action, walking quickly toward us with a big smile on her face. A tall man with a regal bearing follows closely behind. His dad was raised to be king. They have to be Jack’s parents.

  Up close, his mom has the same bluest of blue eyes as her son. “Hello, Riley, it’s so nice to meet ya. I’m Tara, Jack’s mom.”

  “So nice to meet you too.”

  She turns to Jack, her brow furrowing. “Ya didn’t tell me ya were bringing someone.”

  Jack lifts one shoulder, blushing. Oh my God. He’s blushing!

  His dad offers a hand. “Nice to meet you, Riley. I’m Jack’s father.” His speech is formal English with no hint of the Brooklyn accent his wife has. His dad has streaks of gray in his dark brown hair and is clean shaven, his eyes a striking aquamarine. Jack resembles him with his thick dark brown hair, high cheekbones, and square jaw.

  I shake his dad’s hand. “Great to meet you too. Thank you for having me.”

  They both look to Jack, studying him. He pulls at the collar of his white T-shirt.

  “So—” his mom starts and stops herself. She turns to her husband.

  “How did you two meet?” he asks.

  “Vegas,” I say with a big smile for Jack’s benefit. I just want him to relax again.

  His parents exchange a look that somehow communicates resignation and a grim I knew it.

  Jack barks out a laugh, finally seeming like himself again. “We saw each other there, but I knew her before. This is Sam Walsh’s sister.”

  “Oh, Sam!” his mom exclaims with obvious relief. “Nice young man.” She smiles, her blue eyes sparkling. “You’re the first woman Jack’s ever brought home. So nice that you’re Sam’s sister.”

  His dad nods. “I confess we always thought the first woman he brought home would be some stranger he married after a wild weekend in Vegas. So when you said you’d met in Vegas, my wife and I thought, well, it’s finally happened.”