Getting Rowdy

“You won’t let me have any fun.” He found a black T-shirt and offered it to her. “Better?”

She held it up in front of her, saw it’d fall to her knees, and nodded. “Yes, thank you.” She turned to the weights on the floor, then indicated the chin-up bar and heavy bag hung from the rafters. “This is your stuff?”

“Yeah.” He needed those aspirin to kick in, the sooner the better. “When I can’t sleep and there isn’t a willing woman around to help me blow off some energy, I work out.”

Putting the T-shirt on his bed, she bent to lift one weight—and got it only about six inches off the floor. “Does it help?”

Not as much as f**king. “Sometimes, sure.”

She gave up on the weight and strode over to the heavy bag. With a slight push, she got it swaying. “You have trouble sleeping?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“Sometimes I guess.”

For most of his life, he’d been an insomniac. As a kid, he’d stayed awake listening for trouble—meaning his folks. Later, after they’d died, he’d been vigilant for Pepper.

The idea of Avery not sleeping bothered him. “What keeps you awake?”

“Too much caffeine, scary movies and worrying about stuff. Same as most people.” Smiling, she sat on the side of his bed. “You only have a full-size bed.”

“So?” If he’d known she was staying over, he’d have moved in a twin mattress real quick.

“I don’t want to interrupt your sleep tonight.”

He loved interruptions because usually if he fell into a sound sleep, nightmares plagued him.

That is, if you could call memories nightmares.

“Like I said, I’m an insomniac so don’t worry about it.” He went to the bathroom door. “You’ll have about two minutes to change in private if you want.”

Seated on the side of his bed, her knees together, her fiery hair trailing over her shoulders, she looked like living, breathing temptation. “Okay, thanks.”

Rowdy closed the door behind him, and only then allowed himself to scowl in discomfort. Every movement made his stitches pull, but he also felt other aches and pains. His knuckles were bruised, and one knee was stiff as if maybe swollen. Probably from landing on the damned gravel.

He brushed his teeth, washed his face then gave quick thought to shaving. If Avery was saying yes instead of no, maybe he would. But since she insisted on sleep only, he decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

He stepped out, and there she stood beside the turned-down bed, her hair freshly brushed, her clothes gone in place of his soft cotton T-shirt. He’d known it would swim on her, but he hadn’t counted on the enticing way it draped over her every curve, or how the wide neck exposed one shoulder.

Or how possessive he felt seeing her in it.

He could almost hate that shirt for being the only thing between him and the woman who was fast becoming an obsession.

Avery nervously waited for him to say something, but every thought he had was sure to send her running. Very slowly, knowing full well she could see his feelings on his face, he eased closer.

“Rowdy?”

She had beautiful legs, slim but shapely, silky and smooth. Her toes curled as he continued to stare at her. She crossed her forearms over her middle, shifting her stance and inadvertently pulling the material tighter over the swells of her br**sts.

He’d had women coming under him and not felt as hot as he did seeing the shape of Avery’s body under black cotton.

“You’re making me feel naked.”

Close enough now to kiss her, he bent his head and nuzzled the fragrant skin of her neck, that supersexy red hair. “One touch, okay?”

“I... What?” Even as she spoke her confusion, she tipped her head, giving him access to continue.

He put his hands at her waist, loving the feel of her beneath the giving cotton. “Just one touch, babe,” he murmured. “Tell me it’s okay.” His fingers opened and closed, relishing the narrowness of her waist, the slight flare at the top of her hips. His mouth brushed her ear. “Just one. Then we can turn in.”

She drew in a shuddering breath—and nodded.

To make the most of it, Rowdy caressed both hands over her hips and down to her full, supple ass. A groan caught in his throat. He took a moment to enjoy how his large hands completely covered each cheek, then used his double-handed hold on her to lift her up to her tiptoes, bringing her in close, pelvis to pelvis.

While lust singed him, she gasped in worry and her hands grabbed for his shoulders. “Rowdy, your back.”

All he could feel at the moment was the throbbing in his cock. He’d never wanted a woman so much. Sex was great, always, but touching Avery like this was better, so good that it felt like a drug.

He lifted her higher so he could kiss the tender flesh where the neckline of the T-shirt exposed her shoulder.

“Rowdy, please.” She tucked her face into his shoulder, her voice rough with concern. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

It wasn’t easy, but Rowdy got himself under control. He wanted Avery’s need as sharp as his own, not clouded by worry.

Carefully, he lowered her feet back to the floor. “You have an amazing ass,” he said with feeling.

Dropping her forehead to his sternum, she gave a husky laugh. Her long hair hid her face from him. He lifted it back over her shoulders.

Damn, but he loved her hair. One of these days it’d be spread out over his pillow while he sank into her.