Having him on her side, feeling like she had an ally and a true friend—someone who knew what a mess she was, but wanted to be there for her anyway—was such a freaking relief, she hadn't even realized how much she wanted it.
Thankfully, Drew didn't seem to be thinking short and sweet either. His hands dropped to her hips to pull her up against him firmly and she regretted that she’d changed into yoga pants from the tiny dress she’d been in earlier.
At least she wasn't wearing denim. The jeans he had on were simply too thick. The soft cotton of her yoga pants at least let the heat from his hands soak into her skin and she could feel each one of his fingers individually as they gripped her hips and then slid around to her ass, cupping her and bringing her up onto tiptoe so he could press into her.
His mouth was hungry on hers and his beard rasped deliciously against her chin and cheeks as he angled his head, deepening the kiss. Their tongues tangled and Rory felt the strokes between her legs and on her nipples. Heat swirled in her belly and she had the urge to lift a leg and hook it around his thigh so he could settle the hard bulge behind his fly against her aching center.
What the hell? It was the middle of the night, and it was just her and Drew and the reindeer. She lifted her leg, but as she was moving to wrap it around him, one of his big hands dropped, grasping her thigh and helping her. He lifted her, bringing her up more fully against him and the next thing she knew, her feet had left the floor. Carrying her with his one hand under her ass and the other wrapped around her thigh, he carried her into the barn and put her back up against the side of the first stall. Her arms went around his neck and she moaned into his mouth as his cock lined up perfectly with her pussy and he pressed into her.
His answering groan sent pleasure racing from her scalp to her toes and she arched closer.
His mouth slid from hers over her jaw to her ear. “Fuck, you feel good,” he said roughly.
His gravelly voice made her body tingle as if he'd stroked a hand down her side and over her breast.
She clamped her knees more firmly around him and tipped her head back against the barn wood behind her.
“Oh my God, ditto. I didn't even know how much I needed this.”
He gave a soft chuckle, which danced hotly over the skin of her neck. He followed the hot air with his lips, kissing along the column of her neck and making goosebumps chase each other down to her nipples which beaded happily behind the light green hooded sweatshirt she wore.
He was really doing most of the work when it came to holding her up, so she took the chance to move her hands down his hard chest to his abs and then under the soft cotton of the t-shirt he wore under the open flannel. As her hands met hot bare skin, his muscles tensed and she moaned again.
She wanted to see them. She wanted to lick them. She wanted to watch them contracting and relaxing as she rode him cowgirl.
“Come home with me,” she whispered hoarsely.
Drew stilled. His mouth rested just above her collarbone and his body, which had been pressing hungrily against hers, tensed.
A moment later he lifted his head, his hot gaze locked on hers.
“I can't.”
Rory couldn't believe the way her stomach plummeted. She frowned. “Why not?” It was clear that he was into this.
“You're exhausted, you're stressed, and you're feeling very grateful right now.”
She shook her head quickly. “I'm not doing this out of gratitude. I want you.” She stroked a hand up and down over his abs and ribs. “I've wanted you since I met you.”
He gave a soft chuckle. “Which was less than twenty-four hours ago. And you want a guy from Autre. You’ve got a thing for Beau.”
“Beau who?”
Drew just smiled and shook his head.
Rory sighed. “Okay. That's all fair. But Beau and I aren’t going out. We’ve had a few conversations. But he's never touched me. We've never kissed. He has no idea that I've thought of dating him. And…you've made everything so much better for me in the few hours I've known you, that yes, I'm being selfish. I want to know what else you can make better. I know you're not sticking around. Honestly, with the mess my life is, that is probably for the best. For your sake. But that's what makes this great. This doesn't have to be any major thing.”
He held her gaze for several seconds. Then he said. “The problem is, it kind of feels like a major thing.”
7
Rory sucked in a little breath and felt her heart flip over in her chest. It was the look in his eyes. Or the tone of his voice. Or…something. Maybe the fact that he wasn't stripping her naked and fucking her against the wall of the barn right now when she'd clearly given him an open invitation to do exactly that. But he thought this felt major? After just a few hours? In spite of all of the craziness and weirdness?
But looking at him right now, she understood what he meant. This definitely felt like something different anyway.
She pulled in a deep breath. “Okay.”
They just stayed like that. They weren’t looking away. They weren’t talking. He wasn’t letting go of her.
Finally, she said, “Now what?”
“I know I can't spend the night in your bed, but I can't seem to take my hands off of you.”
She gave a little smile. “I very much like having your hands on me. Honestly, this is the first time I’ve felt good, and even a little calm in a long time.” She frowned. “Which is strange, considering my hormones are jumping, my heart is racing, and I’m breathing fast. None of this actually feels calm, but it's like emotionally, I feel…” She wasn't sure she should say what was on the tip of her tongue. It would sound like a lot. Because it was a lot. But he was the one that had just said everything felt major.
He squeezed her ass with one hand. “Say it.”
“I don’t know if I should,” she hedged.
He squeezed her a little harder and she felt heat twirl through her tummy.
“Say it, Rory.”
She suddenly really wanted to. If he ran, then he ran. She hadn’t even known him yesterday morning. She’d survive if she didn’t see him again after this.
But damn, her heart ached a little at that idea.
Major. That was actually a good word for this, she decided.
She wet her lips. “Okay, this is the first time in longer than I can remember that I feel taken care of.”
Something flashed in his eyes. It was definitely desire, even lust. But there was something more. It seemed like possessiveness. And satisfaction. Though that didn't totally make sense.
But then he said, “Well, I can definitely take care of you.”
He let go of her then, letting her slide to the floor.
She wanted to protest. The last thing she wanted was for him to let go of her. But maybe he was just going to hug her again. That would be okay. Maybe not exactly what her body was longing for, but that had felt pretty damn good too. If he wanted to take care of her, hugging qualified.
But as soon as she was on her feet, he took her face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was sweet, but it had a hint of spice. The promise of more. It was deep and his scent and heat and touch surrounded her and filled all her senses. She felt almost trapped. He was caging her in against the wall, her face held in his hands, completely dominating the kiss. There was a definite feel of possessiveness and even protectiveness in it all. And yet she felt the same sense of comfort. Like he was caring for her. Like he wanted to take care of her.