Page 64 of Textbook Defense

Rowan laughed, still breathless. “Oh my God, let me go get a pen. I want to write this down—”

He rolled to try to get out of bed, but Jordy caught him with an arm around the waist and dragged him back toward Jordy’s body. “First note,” he said. “No books in bed. So rude.”

As if Rowan wanted to leave his embrace in the first place. He turned back around to face the music, suddenly serious, and met Jordy’s eyes. “If this were something other than… what it is… I’d be negotiating for that.” His heart thudded painfully in his chest, but it would be worse to hold this in than to say it out loud. “But I think we’re pretty clear, yeah? I can’t commit”—somehow he managed the word without throwing up—“to someone who could move away at any moment.”

Jordy reached for Rowan’s hand and laced their fingers together. It made Rowan think of Ryan and Nico in the back room at that bar, matching rings and matching grins. “And I can’t promise to stay.”

Right. So that was clear. Rowan made himself take a deep, steady breath instead of the short, sharp one he wanted. “Still,” he said, desperate to lighten the mood, “I think you’ll find there’s plenty of wiggle room.” He glanced pointedly between them and then added, “Well… I’m confident we canmakeroom, anyway.”

Jordy shoved a pillow over Rowan’s face.

THEY LEFTRowan’s bed for a shower and food. Jordy needed calories and a rest if he was going to pound Rowan through the mattress.

“No matter what my libido says,” he murmured after a filthy kiss, “my body actually needs a break before round two.”

Rowan groaned in exaggerated disappointment but let Jordy pull him into the shower, then the kitchen.

They ate leftovers on the couch while watchingCSI, and if their usual smack talk got a bit flirtier and they inched closer after the plates were set aside, no one else had to know.

As the episode finished and Jordy crowed his murder-guessing victory—he only won because Rowan was distracted—he turned hot eyes and smirking mouth in Rowan’s direction and all but melted him into the couch cushions. Rowan would not admit out loud how hot the smugness made him. Especially since sex apparently dialed it up to eleven for Jordy. He’d never looked so much like a douchey frat boy after winning their game before. Fuck. Why was Rowan into it?

Minutes later, when he was pinned to the couch under Jordy’s weight, Rowan decided he didn’t care.

Jordy had just slipped a large hot hand under Rowan’s T-shirt when his phone rang.

“Who even calls? Who has their ringer on?” Rowan whined after Jordy hoisted himself off the couch. The climate-controlled room felt freezing without his hockey-player blanket.

“Parents have their ringer on,” Jordy mumbled, though he didn’t look any happier about the interruption. But his sulky expression turned to a frown when he saw his screen, and he answered quickly. “Hello?” His expression softened, and Rowan didn’t have to wonder who was on the other end of the line. “Hi, peanut. What’s wrong? … You did? Oh no.” He shot Rowan a longing look. “Hmm. Yes, I can do that. See you soon.”

He hung up and let out a deep sigh. Then he looked at Rowan, who was still laid out on the couch, though he’d propped himself up on his elbows, and gave him another hungry look—one that normally would have Rowan dropping to his knees, or parting them, but he couldn’t think about that now.

“What’s up?”

“Kaira forgot her stuffed Piglet.” Jordy rubbed a hand over his face. “Which is of course her very favorite, and she can’t possibly sleep without it.”

“And she’s six and having an exciting but maybe a little bit scary sleepover with her aunt, so you can’t tell her to not worry about it,” Rowan finished. Disappointing, but, well—if he were honest, he wouldn’t like Jordy half as much if he weren’t the kind of man who’d drop everything for his daughter.

Jordy sighed and looked at the clock. “It’ll take me at least an hour, probably closer to two, to do the drive and make sure she’s settled. Which means even if things go smoothly and she doesn’t permanently kill the mood for the night, I don’t think we’ll have time for that promised railing.”

He was right. Rowan had an appointment to fill out paperwork at the university first thing in the morning. As much as he wanted to stay up all night fucking, showing up looking like he’d been ridden hard and put away wet would not make a good impression on a new job.

Rowan allowed himself a dramatic flop back into the cushions.

“Sorry,” Jordy started, but Rowan wasn’t having that.

“No. Don’t apologize for putting your kid before sex. I will survive. I will get by the same way I’ve been for the past few weeks—I’ll go to sleep after I give my hand, or maybe my vibrator, a workout.” Rowan wasn’t sure he would, honestly. The idea of a teary, distraught Kaira was better than a cold shower.But telling Jordy that felt weird. Also, maybe he wanted to tease the big tease a little.

Suddenly Jordy was looming over Rowan and kissing him hungrily, filthily. “I… am going to go rescue my kid. But soon. Soon I’m going to plow you like you’ve been begging.”

“Yes please,” Rowan said maybe a bit too sincerely, then pushed him away with a gentle shove to his chest. “Go. See your kid. Play hero. And I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jordy pulled away with gratifying reluctance. “Need help finding Piglet?”

“No,” Jordy grumbled from the hallway. “I can see him by the front door.” Because of course.

In the silence left behind, Rowan finally rose from the couch, cleaned up their dinner mess, tidied their snogging disarray, and got ready for bed.

He didn’t jerk off, but he did have some rather lovely, inspiring dreams.

JORDY HADhoped Rowan might return home before Kaira and Emma did, so that they could take advantage of the last hour or so of an empty house, but it was not to be. Three or four hours ticked away, and Emma and Kaira burst in with wet hair and demands to be fed. Jordy swept Kaira up in the air, tossed her little body, caught her again, and blew a kiss on her cheek. “So demanding. How do you feel about lasagna?”

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