Page 7 of Tee the Season
“You’ve had the same job longer than me,” I reply, something in his tone raising my defenses.
He spins back to me, the intensity in his eyes making my breath catch. “You’re right, but when every season, hell, every tournament, is different, it doesn’t feel that long.”
I consider asking more about what it’s like to be a professional caddy, but that would cross an unspoken line, so I drop the subject and shrug off my coat.
As he skirts the kitchen counter, his movements are precise and controlled. His presence here, in the flesh, surfaces memories from last time we were together. Images flash through my mind—his hands tangling in my hair in his fancy hotel suite, the way he’d groaned my name against the crisp white sheets that smelled like laundry detergent.
That night was all gas, no brakes. This? Here, in my home, surrounded by the scent of pine and old books, with my crooked Christmas tree in the corner, its multicolored lights casting a jeweled glow on both of us, it feels…intimate.
But as he steps up to me, and his hands slip under my sweater, his cool palms against my warm skin, I forget all about the fact I’m just another night for him. Another woman in another town. Because my body, that’s been on fire since I saw him again? It’s ready to go.
Outside, the wind picks up, howling against the building and making the old structure creak softly. Snow pounds against the windows, thick and relentless.
“Storm’s getting worse,” Rory murmurs, his eyes not leaving mine.
“You might have to stay the night.”
“You’re the one that slipped out last time. While I was sleeping.”
The accusation hangs in the air, but what am I supposed to say?Because we’d finished what we set out to do?orBecause you delivered the best orgasms of my life, but I knew all I was for you was a good time?
Tonight is supposed to be simple. Round two and nothing more. We confirmed the ground rules in the car. So why does his observation about last time make my chest feel tight?
“You sure about this?” His fingers pause at the waistband of my jeans.
I cup his face, the sprinkle of his rough stubble against my fingertips.
“I’m sure,” I whisper and lean up to kiss him.
The press of our lips ignites something wild. His mouth claims mine with a hunger that steals my breath, all heat and demand and barely restrained control. I taste the chocolate from dessert on his tongue as it slips into my mouth, one hand tangling in my hair while the other pulls me in.
Our bodies press together as the kiss deepens, transforming into a slow, languid exploration that leaves my senses reeling. His hands roam over my body, mapping every curve with a possessive touch that sends shivers down my spine.
“You are…” he starts, his lips trailing down my neck as I tilt my head and he finds my collarbone with his tongue. “Irresistible.”
Irresistible?I grip his biceps.
“Mmm,” he hums, his mouth trailing lower as he cups my ass and pulls me against the ridge of his erection.
Is that why we’re back at it within hours of him landing in town, even though he made it clear in August he’s not the kind of guy who sticks around?
But I don’t question his declaration because I knew exactly what I agreed to when I offered to give him a ride. And another night of bliss is worth it with this man who’s so fit he has stamina in spades. Rory knows what he’s doing in bed. His expertise was on full display our first night, and I enjoyed every minute. So I’m down for more, even if it’s only physical.
Before I can murmur a response, he guides me to the couch with the same sexy confidence I remember. He’s a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to take charge. I push the thought of him with other women, making the same moves, out of my mind because I don’t have a claim to stake. I’m good with just sex tonight. In the new year, maybe, I’ll have time to date and find a man here in Starlight Bay to settle down with, becauseI’m not getting any younger. But that’s something future Tabitha can tackle. Present Tabitha’s preoccupied at the moment.
Rory lifts the hem of my sweater, stripping the soft wool over my head, then reaches behind to unclasp my bra, sliding the straps down my arms. Though we’re same people we were in August, everything about tonight feels different from that first time at the hotel. Less frantic, less…blistering. As if we have all the time in the world.
He takes a moment to admire me, his eyes darkening with desire as they rake over me before his hands cup my breasts, massaging them gently. His thumbs circle my nipples until they harden under his touch. He dips his head, capturing one hardened peak in his mouth, licking and sucking until I gasp with pleasure, my eyes rolling back in my head.
He moves to the other, giving it the same attention, and drawing out a soft moan from deep within me. The contrast of his warm mouth and the cool air sends shivers down my spine as I grip his shoulders.
In the hotel, the air conditioning had hummed constantly, drowning out any other sound. Here, even with the heater on to keep my apartment cozy, I hear everything. The storm raging outside, Rory’s breathing, the soft creak of the couch springs as he sinks down and reaches for the button on my jeans then peels them down my legs.
As he slides off the denim, his fingers trace a path up my calves, past my knees, and along my thighs, his touch igniting a trail of fire on my skin. His eyes, dark and intense, never leave mine as he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss on my belly then another and another as he works his way down.
My breath hitches when his tongue traces the waistband of my panties before his fingers hook into them and he strips off the lace. I’m completely bare before him, vulnerable in a way I don’t remember feeling that first night when we were both drunk.
“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. He leans in, his breath warm against my core. “My one regret from that night is not tasting you.”
