His words pushed her across the finish line, almost as much as the moist friction of their lower bodies. A ticklish tightening in her loins signaled the end and she barreled toward it, her orgasm made brighter and sharper from the knowledge that Rory was going to climax. God, the cords of his throat stood out, his mouth open, eyes blind…and she watched him go over the edge with her name on his lips. It was too quick. It went on forever. She didn’t know. Didn’t know, but witnessing Rory’s pleasure was the single most incredible moment of her life. He went from being rocked with tension to being completely devoid of it, collapsing on top of her on the bed, gathering her so close in his arms, she could barely breathe.
Moments later, when Rory lifted his head and searched her eyes, she couldn’t stop the most brilliant smile from spreading across her mouth. He returned it.
And Olive Cunningham fell completely and irreversibly in love with Rory Prince.
Chapter Twelve
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Panic trickled into Olive’s veins as her eyelids cracked open, allowing the morning light to reach in and blind her. Which didn’t help her total disorientation one bit. The sounds that had typically reached her ears over the last few weeks were ocean waves crashing, metal store fronts opening, joggers chatting as they ran past her building. Not her parents and siblings and giggling, muffled by her bedroom door. Had she dreamed moving to Long Beach? Had she dreamed Rory?
Olive’s heart dropped into her stomach at the thought and she cracked an eye open once again, praying she would find herself lying on flannel sheets that smelled of man and musk. No way she could dream so elaborately. No way she could dream someone so complicated and beautiful, could she?
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Please no. Please…
The sun shining through the window dimmed briefly and the outline of Rory came into view. And her heart shifted back into place but made no move to resume its normal rhythm. He was shirtless, standing across the room, sweatpants slung low around his hips, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. Tattoos clung to his skin the way she’d done last night, blacks and blues and a hint of red here and there. God, so hot. So insanely, ridiculously, movie-star-quality hot. There was a line of concentration between his brows, and Olive finally realized where the familiar sounds of family bonding were coming from. Rory’s laptop was open on his dresser. He was watching a Meet the Cunninghams video?
Trying to ignore the discomfort that rippled through her chest, Olive sat up slowly. “Um. Why are you watching that?”
Rory turned to her with a casual smirk, as if about to make a dry remark, but whatever he saw on her face caused him to slam the laptop shut, concern blanketing his expression. “Hey. I…shit, sunbeam. I’m an idiot.” He dropped the towel and crawled toward her on the bed, hitting her nose with clean, soapy, male goodness. “I woke up a while ago and I started worrying…” A beat passed as he shook his head. “Three bachelors live here and we almost never clean. It was never any great shakes to begin with, but we’ve kind of destroyed it over the years. You must be used to much nicer. I was kind of torturing myself by finding out the kind of house you grew up in. But I didn’t think it would be torture for you.” He pressed her back into the pillows with a long, slow kiss. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her body screaming to life beneath the sheets. “Why are you up so early? It’s Sunday.”
In the short space of time it took them to kiss, his pupils had bled completely into his green irises. “I’m prepping the bar now almost every day. I have to go marry the liquor bottles, stock the shelves, do some paperwork.” He made a harsh sound. “Of course, as soon as I volunteer for the job, I’ve got a reason for never wanting to leave this bed.”
“That’s quite a coincidence.”
“No. Not a coincidence,” he said quietly, laying his lips along her right cheek. “You’re the reason I volunteered for the job. The reason I wanted more responsibility.” His mouth trailed lightly across her mouth to lay a feathery kiss on her left cheek. “See, I don’t deserve you. And I’m not even sure I was aware of what I was doing…but I know now. I was trying—I am trying to earn you a little at a time. I just want to earn you.”
Olive had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting I love you. That wet, melting sensation was back between her thighs, her mouth was dry, her heart was rapping against her ribs. God, she was a complete mess over this man and he thought he had to earn her? “Rory—”
“Olive.” Rory brushed her hair back from her face, a harsh laugh scraping out of his mouth. “Do you have any idea how fucking cute you look right now? Hair all messy, mouth puffy, eyes still half closed. If I don’t get out of this room in one minute, I won’t leave.”
“What would you do?”
“Stop.” The deep resonance of his sexually frustrated tone made goose bumps rise on every inch of her skin. “Go back to sleep. When you wake up, go next door to Jiya’s house. I’ve already asked her to give you a ride home. Will you do that for me?”
No help for it. She felt like a cherished belonging and it was…amazing. Mostly because Olive was pretty positive if she asked Rory to do anything, he’d do it. To make her happy. She wanted to make him happy, too, and all that was required was getting home safely. Letting him take care of her in this one way. “Yes. I will.”
“Thank you.” His shoulders lost their tension, his hand lifting to cup her face. “I’m on the beach all day, but I’m not bartending tonight.” Green eyes fell to her mouth and darkened. “Can I see you again?”
Olive wanted more than anything to be back in his arms. As fast as possible. Not being in them right now was awful. “I have a study group tonight, but I can miss it—”
“No.” The set of his jaw was resolute, but his eyes were soft. “Don’t miss school work because of me. How about I give you a ride to class tomorrow morning?”
Butterflies rushed into her chest, wings flapping wildly. “That sounds perfect.”
He caught her mouth in a hard kiss that wanted—so badly—to become more. They breathed heavily against each other’s lips for a few seconds, Olive’s thighs shifting beneath the bedclothes, which Rory obviously noticed, if his groan was any indication. “How does your body feel, sunbeam? You hurting from what we did?”
“No.” She kissed the side of his chin. “No.”
His eyes closed briefly, then refocused on her. “I’m sorry about the video.”
“It’s okay.” Olive’s lips wobbled into a smile. “I searched for you on social media. So I guess we’re just even now.”
Rory reared back a little. “You did?” He regarded her with a mixture of amusement and confusion. “I’m not on any of that shit, baby.”
“I know.” She lifted her chin. “It’s very frustrating.”
“Why?”
“Are you serious? It’s like a…virtual footprint. How else am I supposed to learn about you?” She arranged her features in a horrified expression. “Talking?”
Rory tickled her ribs and she sheet dropped from her breasts.
He yanked it back up with a bark of pained laughter, covering her up once more. “Jesus Christ, if dicks could cry, mine would be sobbing right now.”
When he seemed to be debating whether or not to leave, Olive knew she had to help him. He wasn’t letting her miss study group and she wouldn’t let him shirk his new managerial obligations. As much as it hurt. Like seriously, ouch. “Go,” she managed, saying a silent apology to her newly awakened femininity. “You have to go prep the bar. I’m…” Her breath caught a little as the truth tripped out. “I’m really proud of you for taking on new responsibilities. I’m proud of you for not fighting last night…I’m just proud of you. But you don’t have to ea
rn me. I’m right here.” She laid a soft kiss on mouth. “Do it for yourself. You’re worth the effort.”
“How’d I find you?” His gaze cut away, a muscle in his throat working. “I guess I have no choice but to go to work now.” They shared a frustrated laugh as he rose from the bed, pulling on a shirt that had been laid out on his dresser. Before he could leave the room, his hand paused on the doorknob, Rory looking back at her over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”
Olive nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”
“Yeah, still trying to believe it’s real,” he said, walking through the door and closing it carefully behind him. “Bye, sunbeam,” she heard through the barrier between them.
She must have sat there for fifteen minutes without moving. How could Rory be so polarizing and such a comfort at the same time? Her skin was overly sensitized, as if enveloped in static electricity. Her nipples were in tight peaks, as if in denial that he’d left. Finally, she lay down, turned on her side and took a deep inhale of his scent, letting it carry her back to a fitful half sleep. Groans from last night peppered her mind, memories of Rory’s mouth between her legs, his arousal sliding home inside her, one inch at a time. How he’d lost control at the end, driving into her hard, saying things into her neck she would have thought crude, but were perfectly paired with a man at the end of his rope. A man she cared about. Desired.
Still half asleep, Olive turned on to her belly and slipped a hand between her thighs. She found her clit with two fingers and worried the nub in fast, tight circles, breathing erratically into Rory’s pillow. His scent only got her to the precipice faster.
We fuck, you come. It’s a given, you understand?
She muffled her moan, her hips grinding down on to her fingers. Almost. Almost. God, she would have done anything for Rory to walk back into the room and thrust himself inside her. Hard. Hard—
The storm broke and Olive sank her teeth into her lower lip, limbs shaking as the orgasm rolled through her like thunder, so intense that her calf muscles were immediately sore, her throat strained from trying to stay quiet. “Oh m’God.” She turned over and stared up at the ceiling, proverbial canaries circling around her head. “That has to be some kind of record.”
Olive sat up and looked around, fanning her skin to cool the dappling of sweat. She didn’t know about the rest of the house, but Rory’s room was pretty tidy. There were some articles of clothing discarded on the floor—hers included—but there were no dust bunnies running around. He had a calendar hanging on the wall by the door, notations beginning two weeks ago, and her heart tripled its pace, just imagining him going out and buying organizational supplies. Wanting to do better.
She got out of bed and dressed in her clothes from the night before, crossing to the dresser so she could look at the one framed photo in the room. It was the three brothers standing on the stoop in order of height, a laughing woman Olive assumed was their mother holding a pizza delivery box…and a serious man staring at them through a window in the background.
Last night, they’d talked about Rory’s mother, but not his father. In fact, was it her imagination or had he tried to avoid the subject of his dad?
Olive shook off the odd thought. They had plenty of time to talk about everything. And there was a lot to discuss. Olive still didn’t know what had provoked Rory in the fight that sent him to prison—and everyone seemed determined to safeguard that information. Which, unfortunately, only made her want it more.
Before Olive left the room, she ran her index finger over the lid of the laptop. Which video had he been watching? With a swallow, she started to lift up the screen, but stopped herself. These videos that made so many people happy only reminded her that she’d been abandoned.
Her gaze couldn’t help but drift back to the picture of Rory.
Abandoned. He wouldn’t do that to her…again. Would he? Not after last night. After they’d found their way back to each other and proved it was too difficult to stay away. I just want to earn you. Olive held on to Rory’s words on her way to the house next door. And when her phone lit up with a text message from the man himself—I miss the hell out of you, sunbeam—she straightened her spine and shoved the foreboding aside.
You’ve fallen in love. Stop worrying and enjoy it.
But the fear had already built a nest in the back of her head.
Chapter Thirteen
Rory let out the breath he’d been holding when he saw Olive waiting outside her building, staring down at the open book in her hands. She was gorgeous in the early morning sunlight, her blonde hair lit up with a halo. Such an angel. She smiled, big and open, when she saw his bike approaching, stowing the book in her bag, and his throat cinched up. Fuuuuck. He wasn’t going to get used to this. The anticipation that had been plaguing his gut since leaving her in his bed yesterday was replaced by trepidation this morning while he got ready.
Wouldn’t it…couldn’t it take the smallest thing for her to get over him? His old-ass house. His work schedule. The fact that he didn’t make a ton of money. All of it combined. She was an eighteen-year-old girl. Fickle, right?
Then he saw her and remembered. She’s not like anyone else. She’s Olive.
A snapping connection reeled him closer, so wild and tangible, he almost forgot she was standing outside of an expensive doorman building. Wearing a backpack. Those things were just enough to remind him of the vow he’d made to himself. No more staying away. God, no. But if she ever decided he wasn’t the best man to make her happy…no matter how much he was willing to bust his ass and try…he’d figure out a way to leave her alone. Even if it killed him.
For now, though? For now, he wasn’t going to take a single second of having this girl in his life for granted. In the short time he’d known her, she’d inspired him to see himself differently. Made him ask the hard questions. What am I capable of?
Little by little he was finding out.
He’d taken to heart what she’d said yesterday morning. About taking on more responsibility and improving his situation for himself—and it made a lot of sense. He was going to work on that, but it was hard to do a goddamn thing at the moment without attributing it to his need to be a better man for Olive. Maybe he’d get there eventually. Rory didn’t know. He just needed to get his hands on the girl who hadn’t left his mind for a single second since yesterday. Hell, for weeks.
“Hey.” Rory stopped at the curb and took off his helmet, setting it down beside the one he’d brought for Olive. In one quick movement, he climbed off the bike and strode toward her on the curb. “Hey. You want to be my girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
His mouth crushed down onto Olive’s, his forearm slinging beneath her butt to draw her up onto her toes. Commuters honked as they passed by, but Rory barely heard any of it. He was only there for the little whimpers in Olive’s throat, the rasp of her bare thighs against his jeans. Their mouths wrestled, Olive gripping the collar of his shirt, not only receiving the kiss, but giving it back to him, like she’d been hungry for it, too. More than his next breath, Rory wanted to pick her up by that tight, sexy ass and feel the life-affirming sensation of her thighs locking around his waist, but he heard the doorman clear his throat at the building entrance and somehow managed to lift his head.
“H-how…am I supposed to go to class now?”
“You’ll manage.” Rory flicked a glance over Olive’s head and noted the disapproval in the man’s expression—he was doing nothing to hide it. Olive stared to follow his line of sight, but Rory caught her chin and planted a final hard kiss on her mouth. “Come on. I set up the bar early and bribed someone to cover my chair for the first hour, so I can drive you back.”
Just like the other night when Rory rode Olive on his bike, he was a nervous wreck for the entire ride to Stony Brook, but she seemed to sense his tension. The fingers splayed on his chest moved in soothing circles while they ate up the distance on the highway. She planted a kiss in the center of his back and laid her chee
k over the spot toward the end of the ride. After that, he wanted to drive another hundred miles, but he wouldn’t let her miss class.
They were early, however, which led to them parking behind the Burnbaum building to wait. Rory took off both of their helmets and hung them from the handlebars, but when he would have lifted Olive off the bike, he only turned her sideways on the seat, running his palms up her thighs. Letting his fingertips creep under the hem of her white shorts.
“You were wearing these the day I met you.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I have a test today, so I wore them for good luck.”
How was he supposed to stop himself from devouring her when she said things like that? As it was, he couldn’t keep his hands from memorizing the texture of her legs, her arms, her neck and face. She did the same to him, scrubbing her palms on his abdomen, trailing her fingertips up and across his chest.
“So I’m your girlfriend now?”
For as long as you want to be, sunbeam. “That’s right.”
Pink blew across her cheekbones and he almost proposed. Honest to God. “What exactly does this entail? Having a boyfriend.”
“I don’t know what having a boyfriend entails for other girls. I only know what it’s going to mean for you.” Rory tangled a hand in Olive’s hair and tongued her lips open, savoring her gasp before sinking them both into a kiss that made the ground move under his feet. “I’m going to want to know you’re safe. All the time. I’m going to be obsessive about it—and I don’t think I can help that.” He pulled back an inch. “I’m going to miss you when you’re not with me. When you are, I’m probably going to stare at you. A lot. I’ll be wondering how the hell this smart, funny, sexy girl is all mine.” He set the hair wrapped around his knuckles free, dropping both hands to her knees and easing them wider so he could press closer, watch her eyes widen when his cock met the seam of her shorts. “I’m going to touch my girlfriend all over.” A roll of his hips made her eyelids flutter, her chest shudder. “And I’m going to fuck her rotten.”
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