Page 58 of Rooster

"I was hoping it would go away."

"It's cute," he offers.

I fully expect him to take a step back, but he moves closer, forcing me to take several steps back until my back is pressed to my closed bedroom door.

His eyes drop to my lips.

"Wh-what are you drinking?" I ask, feeling a little shocked that he's so close to me right now.

It's not at all uncomfortable. I just thought he had intentions of torturing me until I begged him for more attention. This is a lovely change of pace.

"Scotch," he says, lifting the glass to his lips. "Want a taste?"

"Sure," I whisper, the word coming out breathy as I watch him take a sip.

Instead of offering me the glass, he inches closer, pressing his lips to mine.

Shock covers my entire body, and I can't help the gasp that escapes my mouth. It gives him the opportunity to sweep his tongue out, running it over mine. My knees grow weak, but he presses against me further, his free hand circling my waist. When he presses his palm to my lower back, I inch in even closer to him, lining our bodies up as best as I can manage.

The scotch tastes incredible on his tongue, and I moan as I lift up on my toes to get an even better taste.

My hands curl into his shirt, and if it were physically possible, I'd probably try to crawl inside of this man.

The kiss ends long before I want it to, and I'm left damn near panting as I look up at him.

He blinks down at me, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Want to go in here?" I ask, reaching for my doorknob.

"So badly," he whispers as he pulls back and adjusts his cock, pulling his shirt down so it's covered better.

He laughs when I open the bedroom door.

"We have to go downstairs."

"We don't," I argue.

He lifts that damned glass once more, draining the rest of the liquid before looking at me with a wide smile.

"Patience," he whispers as he reaches down and takes my hand."Let me introduce you to the new people."

I swear I nearly trip over my own feet when he directs me toward the stairs. How does something so damned simple hit me in places that have never been touched before?

"Who are these people?" I ask as we descend the stairs.

"They're from the team in New Mexico," he explains.

"They're a little intimidating," I whisper as we cross the room toward a huge guy covered in tattoos.

"Oh, hello there," the guy says, sounding a lot nicer than he looks. "You must be Morgan."

He holds out his hand, and I hate that I have to release Robert's to shake it.

"I'm Kincaid," he says. "And this is my wife, Emmalyn."

"So nice to meet you," the woman says, but instead of taking my hand when I release her husband's, she wraps her arms around me for a hug.

I step back from her, blinking because I can't believe that just happened.

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