20. Kess

20

KESS

Jesus, even his ears even turned pink.

I wasn’t lying. I loved the sassy version of Rowdy Lockwood. The fact that he wanted simply to be held by me, though...There weren’t words in the English dictionary to explain how much that meant to me.

His fragile trust was quickly becoming a fundamental need, and I couldn’t wait to earn more of it.

Rowdy got out of his truck, and I followed him to the small porch, standing behind him and wrapping my arm around him as he unlocked the door.

“Where’s Bandit?”

“He stays down at Emery and Woody’s place.” Rowdy held his finger to his lips. “Don’t tell them, but he actually sleeps in Stevie’s bed.”

I cracked up as I followed him inside. “That tracks.”

Rowdy stopped short, and I bumped into him. I placed my hands on his hips and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Sorry about that.”

He shivered. “No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” I said, noting the additional plants and small artsy pieces he’d added to the space since I’d set up his headboard.

Rowdy turned around, giving me an eye-crinkling smile so full of life that I wanted to kidnap him and fly to Vegas. “You mean it?”

Yes. To both.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, grateful I still had some control over my tongue. “Sky did a great job in here, but I can tell that you’ve been adding your own flavor.”

“Thanks.”

His soft smile sent whatever the opposite of chills was through my veins. The steamies, maybe? Either way, I may have stood there a little too long trying to figure out what to call this feeling because now some of the awkwardness from before returned. Rowdy seemed to freeze in place.

I found myself unable to handle even the slightest discomfort on his part. “Hey, if this is too much...”

“It’s not,” he answered quickly, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“Hell, I’m nervous too,” I admitted. “We’re going to the next level in our relationship.”

He inhaled sharply at my response, and I wondered if it was the word relationship that’d caused his reaction.

“Speaking of,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket. “While we aren’t in a fit of passion, it’s a good idea to share our statuses.”

Rowdy’s eyes widened.

“I just want you to feel safe with me, Rowd.”

“Thank you.”

I pulled up my email and showed him the latest results. “I haven’t had sex since this test, so these are good.”

He bit at his lower lip. “I got tested with my physical last year, but I’m not sure where my results are.”

I held up my hands. “That’s okay. I do trust you, but you should also know where to access that kind of information.”

He nodded, nervous. “I...Sorry?”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Rowd. My chief concern is making sure you know you’re worth waiting for and that you are worth knowing the state of your sexual health.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

I cupped the back of his head and leaned in, giving him a soft kiss.

“Why do you feel so good?” he asked.

Before I could think of a proper answer, he launched at me, kissing me like he couldn’t have waited another second. I wrapped him in my arms and returned the kiss, chasing his sweetness as he pressed so tightly against me, taking as much as I could give him. He grabbed the back of my shirt.

“Take this off,” he demanded, even as his voice cracked.

I did as he asked, and he buried his face in my chest. Laughing, I tugged on his shirt. “Can we lose this as well?”

He nodded and stepped back enough to remove it. While I had a moderate amount of hair on my chest, Rowdy’s was thicker and darker along his centerline, and it showed off his strong, pale torso.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

He smiled as he ducked his chin. “You think so?”

Even now, I’d been expecting some sort of mouthy retort, something like “I know I am.” But he needed my assurance. And the second oxygen returned to my brain, I would figure out how to make sure he understood how much I approved. Of everything.

We started kissing again, and he walked us over to the bed. He slid backward as I crawled forward over him, then he pulled me down on top of him so that we could continue to make out.

My mind went to the events from the parking garage, the memory spinning me up as I recalled his turned-on moans. And as much as I wanted to take over and show him how much he drove me crazy, I’d promised to let him take the lead.

“Can I kiss your neck?”

He nodded breathlessly, and I trailed my lips past his jaw to the sensitive column of skin below. He shuddered as I laid soft kisses down to his collarbone and back up again. God, the way his body wanted me?—

“Okay, stop. Stop, stop,” he said, pushing up at my shoulders.

I sat back. “Too much?”

He shook his head. “I just got really close.”

“Again?” I asked with a grin.

He scrunched his nose at me. “You’re hot . It’s not my fault.”

I gestured toward my crotch. “I’m in the same situation.”

“Do you need me to...?”

I shook my head. “I’m a grown man, Rowd. I can handle my needs. The question is never what I need from you. It’s always what would you want to do to me?”

His chest rose and fell rapidly as worry filled his eyes.

“You can tell me anything, sweetheart.”

The tension in his body eased—at least partly—and he averted his eyes.

“I want to slow down.”

“Good answer,” I said, kissing his forehead before crawling off the bed.

“Sorry,” he said as I stood and took several deep breaths.

“No apologies.”

He swallowed thickly. “Okay.”

Unlike my house, which had plenty of distractions, there wasn’t much else to do in his cabin. I was still very much looking forward to sleeping with him, but we had a couple of hours to go before sleep was on the menu. Looking around, my eyes fell on his guitar.

“Would you mind playing something for me?”

He ran his teeth over his bottom lip. “You really wanna hear me play?”

“Of course. It’s important to you.”

“What if I’m bad?”

I arched my brow. “There’s no way that you’re bad at this.”

He rubbed the back of his head, then nodded. Crawling off the bed, he stepped across the space and grabbed his guitar from its stand.

I returned to the bed and fluffed the pillows so I could lean against his beautiful—if I said so myself—headboard.

Standing in the small music nook, wearing only his Wranglers, he looped the strap around his body. Everything about him was gorgeous. Even his bare toes were sexy as hell.

Before he could get started, I stopped him. “Would you mind sitting here?” I asked as I widened my legs and patted the bed in front of me. “Let me hold you while you play?”

His eyes locked with mine, molten.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

He walked to the bed, then awkwardly crawled up to me with the guitar strapped across his body. He turned and—narrowly avoiding whacking me with the headstock—settled his ass between my thighs. God, I loved the way he smelled. Like the woods, and something a little sweeter.

I palmed his hips as he positioned his back against my chest. After tuning the strings and checking a few chords, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then began a simple Spanish ballad.

The song was unfamiliar, but the notes rolled and swayed like a boat on the ocean. I moved forward a bit, blanketing his back as I rested my chin on his shoulder, watching his fingers move.

The song only lasted a few minutes, but it was mesmerizing.

“What was that called?”

“Triste Luna—the sad moon.”

I slipped my arm over his free shoulder and buried my face in his hair. “Are you sad, Rowdy?”

“Nope.” He chuckled. “That was just a warm-up.”

He flexed his fingers, and I caught the edge of his grin. The second he started to play again, I smiled widely, then kissed his bare shoulder.

“That’s the intro to Desperado.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Can you sing it?”

He paused his strumming and looked back at me. “You really wanna hear my singing voice?”

“I’ve heard you caterwaul to the radio. It’s not too bad.”

He rocked his elbow back, lightly ribbing me. I captured his arm and held him tight against my chest. He trembled, but I didn’t think he was scared. Letting his head roll back against my shoulder, he closed his eyes, seeming to enjoy the moment.

I leaned in and kissed his nose. He turned his head, and we exchanged lazy kisses until he reluctantly faced forward. He began the song once more, starting off slowly, then speeding up, adding a few percussive notes, just like I’d seen it in the movie. To hold him in this position, to feel the music through his muscles and frame, I couldn’t imagine how we got here, nor could I imagine ever letting him go again.

He sang the familiar Spanish song, and I lightly harmonized with him. Neither of us were award-winning singers, but the tune was simple enough, and we sounded really fucking good together. Where his “practice” song had been slow and romantic, this one was full of energy and fun.

We built to a rousing ending and laughed as we held the final notes. Major record labels weren’t going to be scouting us, but I could imagine spending time around my pool, entertaining our friends and family with our silly, fun duets, my brain insisting on hopscotching ten steps ahead of where we were.

I couldn’t figure out why, save for the fact that I’d always been attracted to him from the first time we met. I supposed I had held off because...I don’t know why. Maybe I always read the hesitance, maybe I was just waiting for the right time.

I knew one thing for certain, though. I’d spent these last several weeks trying to put together the puzzle that was Rowdy Lockwood. Tonight removed the veil between us and I felt that, for the first time, I was seeing him as he truly was. And what I saw was so much better than I’d expected.

I didn’t want to fuck him; I wanted to make love to him. Slow and sensual, pleasuring him until he begged me to stop. And that didn’t need to happen anytime soon. Tonight, I needed to hold him, to show him that I was safe. That he could continue to trust me.

In the space of my racing thoughts, the awkward silence descended once again.

“Um. So, I have an early morning,” Rowdy said, inching off the bed.

“Is it still okay for me to stay?” I asked as he set his guitar back on the stand.

Rowdy lowered his chin, his hair falling forward. “Yeah, if you want to.”

“I very much want to.” I stood and tapped my belt. “Are you okay with me taking these off?”

He nodded and unzipped his Wranglers, pushing them down to the ground. After stepping out of them, he folded them neatly and laid the jeans over the chair in his guitar corner. I did the same with mine.

He turned to me, his expression sheepish. “I’m sorry—I don’t have a spare toothbrush.”

We were going to need to work on his need to apologize for everything.

“That’s okay. Do you have any mouthwash?”

“Yeah.”

He gestured for me to follow him into the small bathroom, and I stood behind him as he brushed his teeth, running my hands up and down his sides, admiring his adorable boxer briefs.

I was reminded of the stories that Emery told me about his time with Woody in this cabin. This was where they’d fallen in love, and I was starting to think this place had a bit of magic to it. Glancing into the mirror, I found Rowdy’s eyes. I pulled him back against me, watching my hand in the mirror as I ran it up and down his chest, enjoying the feel of his body hair beneath my fingers.

“I am serious about this,” I said, repeating my sentiment from before. “Everything you’ve shown me tonight, I like. I want. And I am happy—thrilled, actually—to take the scenic route with you.”

The tiny little doubts that’d creased the corners of his eyes seemed to soften, and he leaned back against me.

“I like you so much,” he admitted.

“I like you too.”

He blushed, his grin nearly splitting his face in two. He reached into his medicine cabinet and handed me a bottle of mouthwash, and I took his place in front of the sink, holding him in place with my hand on his hip as I swished and spat.

“Um. I need to, uh...” He gestured toward the shower.

“Of course,” I said, then slipped out of the bathroom.

When he was horny, he’d wanted my hands all over him and hadn’t minded that I’d seen him partially undressed. But the shower was a step too far. At least for tonight.

Duly noted.

I grabbed my phone and set the temperature for my house, then looked out across the way to verify that my security lights were on. A few minutes later, the shower snapped off, and after a few minutes more, Rowdy walked out into the space wearing a pair of microscopic shorts that hung from his hips.

“What are you smiling at?” he asked, putting on a little disgruntled pout as he toweled off his hair, but I knew better.

“Are these the three-inch shorts you’d supposedly used to tempt my construction crew?” I asked, hugging him from behind, greedy for the skin-to-skin contact.

He sent me a glare over his shoulder. “You’re the only person I’d ever let see me in shorts this short.”

“Good.” I kissed his cheek and tightened my grip on him. “I’m suddenly incredibly insecure that someone might see you in these and snatch you away from me.”

Rowdy’s expression softened. “They wouldn’t stand a chance.”

This. Man.

He turned his face up for another kiss, then shimmied out of my grip to step into the small kitchen area. He readied his coffeepot and put on the timer, and then he set up a small Crockpot with overnight oats.

Gesturing to the small appliances, he sent me a flushed look. “This is about the extent of my cooking skills.”

“No worries, baby. I’m happy to cook for you.”

I got into bed, and when he approached, he hesitated, biting at his thumbnail.

“Is this still okay?” I asked.

He nodded, then slipped under the covers and kissed me. In return, I laid kisses on his neck and across his shoulders, until he flipped, facing away as he scooted back against me. I pulled him in close, kissing the back of his ear.

“Thanks for letting me stay over.”

“I love the way this feels,” he murmured. “No one’s ever held me like this before.”

I immediately hated anyone who had shared even a moment of intimacy with him. Who wouldn’t want to hold Rowdy? Who wouldn’t want to watch this man fall asleep and watch again as he woke up in the morning? Whoever those men had been, they were idiots, and I congratulated myself for being smart enough to care for the special man in my arms.

“I’m glad I could be the one to hold you, Rowdy.”

It took us a while for me to settle, mostly because holding Rowdy was one of the most sensual, arousing things I’d ever done. Eventually, though, his muscle tension ebbed, and soon after I was greeted with the softest snores.

God help me, I’m going to marry Rowdy Lockwood if it’s the last thing I do.