Page 71 of The Love Losers

“Does that work for you,PrincessRosie?” he says, his voice a harsh, breathy whisper.

“It would work better if you kissed me.”

And he leans in and kisses me, long and hard. Every part of me is aware of the places our souls have started to connect aswell as where our bodies are touching, his hand still wrapped around my thigh, pressing me to him.

I suck in his bottom lip and kiss the places where his dimples pop out. And I lean into his hardness, needing to feel how much he wants me. He covers me in kisses, too—kissing my face, my neck, and then the curve of my breasts in my sweater. I push his head in deeper because it feels so deliciously good, especially with my leg still hitched up around him and his dick pressed to me.

“Fuck,” he says raggedly, pressing closer, his hand wrapping around my ass as his hips pump against me. “I…need you, Rosie. I thought we should wait, but—”

“Yeah, that’s not happening. I’m going to need you to take me to your childhood bedroom and show it to mein detail. You weren’t lying about the extra-large condoms the other day, were you?”

I already know the answer—I’ve been feeling it all day—but my impulse is to challenge him. Especially since I already know he can rise to the occasion.

He lifts his eyebrows and pulses me against him again. “I told you I’d never lie to you.”

“Good,” I say, licking my lips. “Because I bought some, and it would have been pretty embarrassing for both of us if I got it wrong.”

He laughs, and then he’s swinging me up into his arms like I really am a princess. And I’m happy in an uncomplicated way that I don’t want to dig into or search for flaws. If he doesn’t really care about me, or just wants me because he needs me, I don’t want to know. Or, at least, I don’t want to know yet. I want to fall into the unexpected the way I used to—without fear of what awaits me.

He starts carrying me up the stairs, and now I'm the one who’s laughing. “Don’t, you’re nearly thirty-four. You’re going to put your back out.”

“I’ll buy some of that wrinkle cream,” he says with a smile and keeps carrying me up as if I weigh nothing. So apparently those workouts he does are effective for more than just horseback riding and paintball battles.

Every cell in my body is awake as he moves down a hallway lined with a red Persian carpet that would probably finance someone’s college education. This house is intimidating in a way I didn’t expect. It makes me remember that I was here as waitstaff just a couple of months ago. AtAnthony’sengagement party.

As much as I hate to consider it, what if Nina is right?

What if he’s just another rich man slumming it?

A nearly married man having one last hoorah?

What if I give myself to him, and he turns around and chooses someone else?

My heart beats harder, need and nerves sending adrenaline through my veins, giving me a hell of a case of flight or fuck.

But then he steps into one of the rooms before turning with me still in his arms and kicking the door shut behind us. I barely have a moment to take in the details—the thick-looking, expensive rug, the queen-sized bed with curtains—curtains!—before he lowers me onto it and kisses me.

And I already know I’m going to give myself what I want for today, at least today.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

ANTHONY

The blood pounding through my body is thick with need. I want to slowly peel her clothes off, to touch her, to sink into her and make her writhe.

It’s even stronger here, in the only space in the house that was ever mine. A professional decorated it, like the rest of Smith House, but it’s hard for it not to feel special with Rosie on my bed. She takes off her coat and throws it, then spreads her legs wide for me.

I throw my own coat down, then take off my shoes and socks and get down on my knees to take offhershoes and socks. She watches me, and when I finish, she lifts up and cinches down the waistline of her leggings and underwear, giving me a flash of the smooth expanse of her upper thighs and the trimmed patch of gold curls between them.

“I want you,” I say, staring at her as I slowly move the leggings the rest of the way down her thighs and then her calves, feeling a rush of joy when they come free and leave her bottom half bare for me.

“I know.” Her eyes are smiling at me, as if she’s as happy in this moment as I am.

I lean in and kiss her hip, then lift the hem of her sweater and watch as she lifts it over her head, her gorgeous golden and purple hair spilling over it in a waterfall. Her breasts are hugged by a white bra covered in tiny crystals.

She reaches back and undoes the clasp. And I stay her hands so I can be the one who slides the straps down her arms, one at a time. A groan escapes me as her breasts tumble free, round and perfect and pink-tipped. I kiss the side of her breast and then run my tongue over her nipple before capturing it in my mouth, her hand finding my hair as I suck first one and then the other. I could do this for hours, worship nothing but her breasts, but I need to explore all of her first. Pulling back slightly, I lower to my knees beside the bed again, positioning her so I’m in between her legs, one knee on either side of me.

“You’re so beautiful to me,” I say, gliding my hands up her smooth legs to her hips, and back again. The first time I saw you, I thought I’d seen an angel.”

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