Page 6 of Ruger
“I guess I know more than the average person about bikes and cars,” he says, taking another big bite of his meal. I watch as he chews it, then swallows. Juices linger on his lips, and my stomach swoops at the sight. “Damn, this might be the best dinner I’ve had in this kitchen.”
“That can’t be true,” I say. And mylord, will I ever stop blushing around this man? Signs point to no.
“Oh, it is,” he confirms. “I can’t cook for shit. But I think you already knew that. This is not the kitchen of a gourmet chef.”
“The cabinets were… bare,” I concede.
“I just might have to keep you around forever,” he says, those words making me feel special, like I’m being rewarded for every good deed I’ve ever done. I’d happily cook every meal for him if it meant getting to stay in his presence.
“I’d like that,” I say, feeling like I’m committing to so much more with those three words.
The two of us lapse into silence as we work our way through our steaks. And, I have to admit, these might be the best that I’ve ever made. Or, perhaps it’s the company that makes the meal so special. It isn’t until we’re nearly done that Ruger speaks again, taking a sip of his drink and clearing his throat before he does.
“I am looking forward to seeing what kind of books you pick out for me,” he says, a look of sincerity gracing his masculine features. “I know you’re going to be looking for things you think I’ll like, but feel free to throw something in there I might not pick up for myself.”
“Consider it done,” I reply as I take my last bite.
One quick glance confirms that Ruger’s plate is empty, too. So, I grab it and hurry over to the sink, not wanting to let him clean up. He’s already doing so much for me, this is the least I can do. Plus, I need a minute to cool off. It’s probably not healthy to blush for prolonged periods of time.
Ruger, however, doesn’t leave. Instead, he joins me at the sink, listening to my nonverbal command to stay back while I work. I can feel his gaze on the side of my face, but with thedishes in front of me, I’m able to tune it out for the most part and focus on the task at hand.
“Tell me about the MC,” I say, wanting him to talk because if I do, I’ll surely say something embarrassing. That, and the fact that I really like the sound of his voice. Sue me.
“Blade didn’t tell you about the Riders of Retribution?” he asks. “I find that hard to believe.”
“You know how he is,” I say, hoping the explanation is enough. The truth is, he told me some things, but there’s obviously more to it if he went to prison for club activities and I have to be watched by someone else from the MC. “There’s a point where being protected just leaves you ignorant.”
“Ah, but he means well,” Ruger says. “Although, there isn’t really much to it. We do charity rides and give back to our community. You could say we’ve made keeping Rio Lunas safe our unofficial job.”
He’s definitely not telling me everything, but his non-answer is a fairly damning one. Maybe it was some act of vigilante justice that got my brother locked up. It would be easy to find his charges online, but he asked me not to look, so I haven’t.
“I think I knew that,” I say, looking away from the pan I’m scrubbing to meet his warm brown eyes again.
When I do, a lock of my hair falls into my face. My hands are too wet to tuck it away, so I try blowing it out of my eyes. To my frustration, it doesn’t work, and I probably look like a real idiot.
I’m so focused on what I’m doing that I don’t notice Ruger reaching out to tuck the strand behind my ear until his fingers brush against my cheek. It feels like the entire world grinds to ahalt. Our eyes lock, and something electric flows between us. It’s like a live wire, I just want to grab onto it and hold on tight. Even if it hurts me.
I feel myself leaning forward, my attraction to him so magnetic that it physically manifests. Even before this moment, I knew I was drawn to Ruger in a way I’ve never been drawn to anyone else before. But now… now I don’t think there’s another soul in the world that could make me feel this way.
Ruger meets me in the middle, his lips soft against mine. It’s tentative at first, like he’s asking for permission. I do my best to give it to him, moving my lips in time with his. This is my first kiss, though. I don’t know if I’m doing it correctly.
I must be, because he kisses me harder, stepping in so close that our bodies are nearly flush against each other. I’m looking straight up to maintain the contact, and even though my hands are wet, I put them on Ruger’s shoulders to keep myself steady. He doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, the touch only spurs him on further.
His tongue presses against the seam of my mouth, and I open up to him on instinct. He plunges inside, licking against my teeth and tongue. I feel a little weak in the knees.
There’s something else, too. Something foreign and warm and undeniable happening in my abdomen and between my legs. It’s like every fiber of my being is screaming for more. More pressure, more attention, moreRuger
Chapter 5
Ruger
I didn’t intend to kiss Marigold, at least not so soon. I want the record to show that. However, I’m quickly finding that I’m weak to my desire for her. Hell, I’d go so far as to say I’m a slave to it. And, when she let me in, leaned into my space, I couldn’t do anything but give her what she was so clearly asking for.
The way she responds to me is beautiful. She does everything she can to keep up with the movement of my lips, but she’s unpracticed. From what I can tell, I was right in assuming that she doesn’t have any experience.
Fuck, that realization only makes my cock harder. Thank Christ I jerked myself off earlier or I’d be close to blowing my load in my pants right now. Even as it stands, I don’t think I’ll last long if this goes any further.
I sure fucking hope it goes further.
