Page 40 of King of Ruin

Is she inviting me into the bed with her? My body hardens at the thought of having her pressed against me. Her curves molded to me in the best way last night.

But I’ve got another agenda. “I need to work late anyway. I’ve got financials to review, and rosters to look over.”

She gives a quick nod. “Of course.”

I get up from the counter, taking my plate to the sink and loading it in the dishwasher. “I can take yours whenever you’re ready.”

She nods. “Given a bit of time in your place, I can do these things myself. I do at home.”

I wince, knowing I’m trying to take that home away from her. But honestly, she’ll adjust to a new place.

Still, the thought has me opening the fridge. “Would you like a glass of wine? I’ve got a beautiful white open that I brought back from Italy.”

“No thank you,” she replies, getting up with her plate. With one hand on the counter, she walks around the peninsula.

She reaches me and I take the plate from her hand, loading it into the dishwasher. She reaches down too, her hand gently tracing several edges. My cock swells. I want her hands on me like that.

The way her fingers softly explore, trailing, tracing…it’s sexy as hell.

“You’re sure you don’t want wine?” I pull down a glass for myself.

She shrugs. “Can I try just a sip of yours? I’m not much of a drinker.”

I stop, watching her as she finishes exploring the door of the dishwasher and straightens. “No alcohol for you?”

She shakes her head. “I’m impaired enough.”

My chest tightens. How does this woman always manage to slip past my defenses? I set the bottle down next to the glass and reach for her hand.

Maneuvering her around the dishwasher door, I pull her into my arms. She molds to me, her torso pressed from shoulder to hip against me, her arms winding around my neck.

Did I say I was going to wait? Take things slow?

I’d like to pull her into the bedroom right now, kiss every inch of her, watch her hands on my body.

Her face burrows into my neck, her nose sliding along my skin.

The wine is forgotten as I lift her up, carrying her toward the bedroom.

“I can walk, you know,” she says, sounding a bit breathless.

“I like carrying you,” I answer. The strange part is that I do. Taking care of her is feeling less like a burden and more like…

I stop in the middle of the bedroom. I can’t follow this thought. Because maybe I feel like that now, but how will I feel a year from now? Two?

I don’t do this. I don’t have relationships.

Her fingers slide in my hair, skimming around the lump that’s still there from last night. “How’s your head?”

“Much better than yesterday,” I answer, closing my eyes to feel the skimming of her fingers over my scalp.

“And your chest?”

There is a very dull ache where the bullet punched into the vest. “A small bruise. That’s it.”

“Any news on Luke?”

My heart rate increases, blood rushing in my ears. “Not yet.” I drop my forehead to hers. “I know you’re worried about Kate. As soon as I know anything…”

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