There was no awkwardness. No hesitation. His hands mapped my body like they already knew it.
We kissed and kissed, and that big palm slipped up the back of my sweater, fingers stretched wide, touching everything possible. So I did the same, sneaking my hand up under his side, palming the solid mass of muscles there and the skin over his ribs, earning a soft groan that I swallowed because I sure as hell didn’t want to stop kissing him again any time soon.
Or ever, if I had the choice.
I knew Rhodes cared about me like I knew the sky was blue, and some part of me thought he might be at least a little in love with me right back. He was affectionate in his own way. He taught me how to do things. He went out of his way to spend time with me. He never hid that he cared about me in front of other people. He supported me. He worried about me.
If that wasn’t love, then I could still easily settle for all that the rest of my life.
But for now, today, in this room, stroking his warm skin, all those hard muscles… with two of the most practical and sweet gifts I could have ever asked for… I wasn’t going to worry about more than what I had then. Which was more than I’d ever had.
He wasn’t my ex. This man wouldn’t lead me on or use me. He liked having me around, because he liked me.
And he just made me happy. His subtle smiles. His touches. Even his bossy britches voice. It all meant the world to me.
He made me happy. And I had decided I was ready. More than ready.
And I whispered those exact words to him as that callused palm snuck so deeply under my sweater his fingertips brushed that tender spot right between my shoulders.
Rhodes growled, tilting me back in his lap just enough so he could look right into my eyes as he said, with that ferociously serious expression from the first night I’d walked into his life, “You have no idea.”
Then he kissed me again, slow and deep and sweet. Not asking me if I was sure. Not hesitating. Showing me again that he trusted what I felt and what I wanted.
And I had no idea that kiss was going to be the last of the sweetness.
“Can I see you?” he asked, all husky and ready.
I glided my hand as far up his back as I could possibly reach, his skin smooth. “You can do more than that.”
His growl was deep in his throat as his other hand went to the bottom of my top, and he pulled it over my head. Those lips went straight from my mouth to my neck, leaving open-mouth kisses and nips there that had me instantly rolling my hips against his.
Against his hard, hard dick.
I’d felt… traces of it before, all sleepy or semi-sleepy in his jeans and sweatpants when he would give me a hug, but never… never like this. Ready. Waiting. Excited and fully awake.
It had been so long. We had taken our time. Built this up.
Because he sure wasn’t indifferent at all as he groaned while I pressed against him as his mouth gave a hard suck at a spot between my neck and collarbone that had me whimpering. Rhodes leaned away for a moment, his throat bobbing, his breath heavy, that gaze moving from my face down to my breasts, held up by the green balconet bra I’d thrown on that pushed my breasts up to the top. The underwire sucked, but I’d never been gladder to have put that specific bra on in that moment until then.
“Jesus,” he whispered. “Take it off.” His throat bobbed. “Please.”
“You got it,” I whispered back, letting go of all his soft skin to reach back and pluck at the hooks, shimmying my shoulders to let the bra drop between our bodies.
I was ready, I was so fucking ready.
And I was pretty sure he groaned “fuck” under his breath a split second before his hands were at my waist, and he was lifting me up just a little off his lap at the same time his mouth dove down and those pink, wonderful lips sucked a nipple between them.
I moaned and arched my back, pushing my breast deeper into his mouth before he gave it another suck and moved over, suckling at that nipple too, hard and then softly, two hard pulls and then one gentle one. Not wanting to break our contact but wanting to see him too, I grabbed at the bottom of his sweater and pulled it over his head.
He was just as beautiful as I remembered from the times I’d perved on him through the window. His stomach was flat and hard with muscle, his skin tight and covered with a V-shape of light hair across his pecs and down to his navel. I wanted to lick him right there, but instead, I ran my hands over his chest, over his shoulders, lowering myself back down onto his lap so that I could settle on top of him again. On top of his dick.
His mouth met mine at the same time my breasts brushed his chest, and I swore my nipples got even harder when they grazed the hair on his pecs. I touched him everywhere, and he touched me everywhere. And at some point, my hands went to the snap of his jeans and the zipper, and his snuck under the layer of my leggings and underwear, grabbing a handful of my bare ass and squeezing it, pulling me in even closer to his erection.