Page 84 of Tattered Edges

I thought it would have calmed down a bit by now—our appetite for one another—but it hadn’t. Even the most mundane activities when done with Rory were more tolerable. And while the sex was stillgreat, sometimes it was just as nice to sit on opposite ends of the couch, each of us with a book in our laps, the only sound between us that of the crackling fire.

I wondered ifthis—this feeling, this contentment—was what people referred to when they talked about finding their person.

We were still new, but the only other person in my life who had ever made me feel wholly accepted and wanted was Diane. Until Rory, I didn’t know what that could look like coming from a man. The more time we spent together, the deeper our friendship grew, intensifying our intimacy. Rory wasfarfrom a boy, and it manifested itself in our relationship in ways that made me want to hold onto him even tighter.

It was as terrifying as it was wonderful.

Terrifying because I didn’t want to mess it up.

Wonderful because Rory made me feel safe.

Emotionally. Physically. Mentally.

He was a protector and a guardian.

He was built different.

It was on me not to screw it all up.

After an indulgent stretch, I sighed wistfully and then opened my eyes in search of him.

I wasn’t surprised to find I was in bed alone.

Knowing there would be coffee if I got up, I did just that, plucking Rory’s pullover from off the floor and donning it as I made me way to the kitchen. I found him where I usually did upon waking—at the table, with a mug of coffee and his tablet.

He looked up only when I came to a stop beside his chair. When he sat back, I didn’t hesitate to invite myself into his lap—straddling him as I circled my arms around his shoulders.

“Morning,” I murmured.

Smiling at me with just his eyes, he replied, “Morning, sweetheart.”

He rested a hand on each of my thighs, feeling his way toward my hips and underneath the hem of his open-zipped shirt. I squirmed a little, warmth racing across my skin.

“What do you want to do today?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, his hands still skimmingup.

“You,” he answered simply

He’d reached my breasts, and I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth, fighting a grin as he grazed my nipples with his thumbs.

When I thought I could trust my voice, I replied, “That can be arranged.”

“Glad to hear it.”

He tilted his head then dipped his face underneath my chin, pressing a wet kiss against the side of my neck. A shiver raced up my spine, and I knew he felt it when he chuckled softly and kissed me again.

He was amasterat foreplay.

It was almost maddening the way he teased me.

Almost.

He lifted his head, and I thought he was going to give me his lips—but then he stopped, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me flush against him.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh,” I muttered lamely, completely caught off guard. “Um, okay.”

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