Chapter 35
“Might have to start ordering those all the time,” Rowan says, setting his empty daiquiri glass down on the bar in front of me.
I laugh. “Well, isn’t it my humor that made you want to make me your girlfriend, darlin’?” I ask him.
He smirks at me, it’s a bit of a tipsy smirk, but it should be considering I made his drink pretty strong. Rowan’s a big guy though so it would take more than a daiquiri, even a good sized one, and a couple of beers to bowl him over.
He leans his elbows down on the bar, his face only a few inches from mine in the noisy crowd.
“Truth, Vi?”
I lean forward. “Truth, Kingsley,” I challenge.
“I think you like that I called you my girlfriend.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, pulling out a shot glass and setting it on the bar, feeling a little free. With Hollie sleeping at my parents tonight, and Rowan in my space with his eyes on me for the majority of the night, I feel like a stiff drink is in order. I pour a double of Jack and knock it back, licking my lips as I do. When I set the glass on the bar and look back up at Rowan, he’s staring, his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Never wished I was whiskey before so that’s a first,” he says. My core aches with just his touch as he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. The stolen kisses when Hollie wasn’t looking or after she’s gone to bed have been the only contact I’ve had with him between my busy work days, but they’re just enough to make me want more, to want it all.
He leans over the bar and brings his lips to the shell of my ear. The crowd is noisy dancing to Zach Bryan’s Revival but all I can hear is him.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Vi, and you’re damn lucky this bar is full or I’d be propping you right up on this bar top.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask. “Then what?” I taunt.
Rowan chuckles in surprise with my forward question, looking down to gather his thoughts. When he returns his eyes to mine, they’re smoldering, like he’s teetering on the edge of losing control. I never realized it until right now, but I think I want him to lose control.
His lips brush my earlobe and my neck breaks out in goosebumps, as he rises to my challenge.
“Well, since you asked, I’d be pushing your panties aside, the ones I just know would be soaked for me, and then I’d fuck your tight little pussy until you were tired and spent from screaming my name.” My breath hitches with his words. He slides his fingers up my forearm, and his voice is a hoarse whisper. “But, like I said, this bar is way too full for that, and I definitely don’t share.”
I tilt my lips up to his, feeling almost desperate and breathless. I swear I hear a growl leave his chest.
“Pool?” Opp asks, wrapping his arm around Rowan’s neck, breaking our connection.
“Hey, Little T,” Opp says. “This fucker bothering you?”
I shake my head, trying to regain my composure and grin at Opp. “Not any more than usual.”
Rowan knocks his fist on the bar once as he starts to back up. “One more hour until you’re off, yeah, Vi?” he asks.
“’Bout that,” I say without looking up to meet his gaze as Opp pulls him away.
“I’ll be here. Just what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t make sure you got home safe,” he calls out, cupping his mouth through the crowd just as the music ends. The people in the nearby vicinity stop what they’re doing and glance between us. A few of them start to laugh when they see embarrassment on my face.
“Let’s fuckin’ go, loverboy,” Opp says, fake punching Rowan to the kidney, and I turn and smile to myself. I most definitely liked it when he called me his girlfriend.
As luck would have it, the last hour of my shift I end up taking over for Lou in the back for the rest of my shift—he can only enter in data so long before his arthritis kicks up.
When the noise hasdied down, I’m convinced Rowan has probably given up and gone home, but I can’t be sure because I left my phone under the bar. I take a deep breath, I’m not a chicken, but the idea of being alone with him has made me, well, a bit of a chicken.
I tidy up my logbook and plug in the bar iPad, checking the time. It’s just after 2 a.m.
Music still plays through the sound system as I make my way to the front, and I wonder why Lou left it on, he usually hates the noise after the bar is closed.
It’s dark when I get out of the back office, the Christmas lights that hang from the ceiling are the only lights still on when I come through the long hallway at the back of the bar. I wonder briefly if Lou is even still here or if he left, but my question is answered the moment I round the corner and see Rowan, sitting alone in the dim light, waiting for me.
I stop dead in my tracks, not saying a word, just watching the easy rise and fall of his chest sitting at the bar, his large hands folded in front of him like he has all the time in the world.
I look around and try to appear like I have it together as he stands and makes his way to the front door.
“Are we alone?” I ask, already sensing that we are.
“Mm-hmm,” he answers, standing and moving toward the one and only large front window. I watch frozen as he tugs the string of the blinds to drop them down to the bottom of the window. He grabs the handle and tilts them downward until they’re fully closed.
Such a simple action shouldn’t have my heart rate sitting at a cool 180, should it?
“I told you I was going to wait for you, did you think I’d just go back on my word, Vi?” he asks. “I sent Lou and the others off. Told them we’d lock up,” he adds as he makes his way across the bar to the big wooden front door. His voice, normally full of flirty amusement, is different. Right now, it’s deeper and steady, serious almost, and it’s sinking beneath my skin, causing all the butterflies in my stomach to take flight.
“That make you nervous?” he asks.
“A little.”
“Good, I like you a little nervous.”
“I thought you’d just get tired of waiting,” I say honestly as I remain frozen to my spot beside the bar like my feet are cemented to the floor.
Rowan raises a hand and places it in the center of the door as he uses his other to turn the heavy deadbolt, the click it makes almost echoes through the space as he locks us in the bar. He slowly reaches up and swings the latch guard over, then turns to face me, staring at me for a beat under the brim of his hat before he begins to stalk toward me in even strides. A look of surety lines the planes of his face and in this lighting, the square angles of his jaw and the intensity in his blue eyes is a sure fire way to anchor me here. Like I’m the prey, caught in his trap, just waiting for him to come and devour me.
He smirks. “If I haven’t gotten tired of waiting for the last ten years, what would ever make you think a couple hours could deter me?” he asks as he takes his hat off and tosses it on a nearby table. He runs his hand through his hair as he approaches me. “Unless you’re not ready to be alone with me…in which case, I’ll go,” he says. The flex of his arm is mesmerizing. I let my eyes trail down his skin, down the ink that peeks out from under his shirt and I remember just what Rowan Kingsley looks like naked. Incredible.
“D-don’t go,” I manage.
“What are you thinking about right now? The look you’re wearing…I can’t place it.” He pins me with a concentrated stare as he moves even closer, until he’s standing right in front of me.
Rowan looks down at me, the scent of sandalwood and mint fills my senses. His hands come up to slide down each of my shoulders, and I fill myself with as much bravery as I can muster. I tilt my head up to look him in his gorgeous navy eyes.
“Was just thinking about what you look like under that shirt.” I know the moment the words are out of my mouth there’s no going back.
Rowan drops his hands from me and huffs out a little chuckle before using one hand to reach behind his neck and grip the back of his shirt, pulling it off over his head easily and balling it up before tossing it behind him. My eyes move shamelessly over his body for a good ten seconds that feel endless. This man is goddamn perfection, he’s packing some serious muscle under his clothes. Rowan’s right arm, the one that wasn’t burned, is covered in ink that fully encompasses his right shoulder with tribal lines and words that spread across the planes of his chiselled chest. Even his collarbones are sexy and defined. More ink spreads over his ribs, some sort of writing extends downward and disappears into his belt, and his abs…holy shit, it’s like I’m just seeing them for the first time.
How does a person become that chiseled?
“Well, I work out a lot. I don’t have a choice. Sup keeps on top of us.” Rowan’s words pull me from my trance.
My eyes flit to his. I blink.
Oh God. Did I just ask that out loud? I definitely did.
Rowan closes the space between us. “My turn.” His voice is gruff as he slides his fingers under the hem of my shirt and pushes me into the bar, so my body is flush with his. He’s already hard and pressing into me when he untucks my tank top and pulls it off over my head, my hair falls down around my shoulders as he drops my shirt to the barstool. He takes one look at me and mutters “ fuck” before his mouth is on mine. His hands slide over my naked skin, grasping at every place he can as his mouth plunders mine with an unmatched hunger.
The other night felt like child’s play compared to this. This isn’t want, this is need, and the difference is enough to send my body into a sort of frenzy I’m unprepared for. I moan into his lips as he pulls back and looks me over
“You’re a fucking goddess, Violette,” he growls before lifting my body up onto the bar top. His hand moves to my back and he unclasps my bra with a one handed expertise that should concern me but right now I’m grateful for it. My bra hits the bar top as his mouth comes down to mine.
Our warm chests pressed together feels incredible. It’s a closeness I’m not sure I’ve felt as he lets his lips trail my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. Rowan doesn’t let one inch of my skin go untouched. I let my head fall backward as he moves to my breasts and trades between sucking my pebbled nipples into his mouth and offering light tugs with his teeth. A tightly bound heat aches through my core and I squeeze my thighs around him, searching for friction. Never have I wanted a man like I want Rowan now.
“Mmm,” he groans into my breast and my eyes threaten to roll back. “So goddamn sweet,” he murmurs gruffly against my skin. The warmth of Rowan’s rippled shoulders under my hands feel just like I always dreamed they would. So powerful, so consuming as his arms encircle me. His mouth returns to mine and his kisses become languid and deep. The feel of our naked skin together spurs me on like little sparks from a flame as the back of Rowan’s hand grazes the hardened peak of my nipple and slides downward, over my waist to the apex of my thighs.
I tightly grip the hair at the nape of his neck as his middle finger presses against my swollen clit through my jeans. I try my best to push against him. The denim is just in the way as I silently beg for more.
“I can practically taste you, Vi”—his lips trail my collarbone—“and I know I was right. I bet you’re fucking soaked already, aren’t you?”
How could I not be?
“Y-yes,” I stutter.
Rowan kisses me deeply, like he may never stop as he pops the button on my jeans and lifts me with one arm to slide them down my body. They slide off at my ankle as he sinks back between my thighs, never once breaking the kiss, a kiss and a feeling I would get down on my knees and pray for.
“That’s okay, you were right too…” Rowan whispers. “What you said to me in the hospital.”
“Hmm?” I whisper as he presses his thumb to my clit through my panties and a zap of pleasure rushes through me.
“Our bodies do always know exactly what they need, all we have to do is listen…” He pinches my clit and this time I cry out. My eyes meet his, and he smirks. He knows he owns me. His pupils are blown out and full of lust, his hair is perfectly messy, and his strong arms are flexed as he holds me firmly in place.
“Yeah, I’m gonna give you just what your body needs.” His voice is low and deep.
“Yes…please,” I moan, not even getting the words out before my eyes roll back.
When I feel his first two fingers push the lace of my panties aside and he’s met with my soaking core, he groans low and deep into my lips.
“ Fuuuuck, Vi…” he mutters. “This all for me, love?”
It’s a simple word, but the sound of Rowan calling me “love” is my undoing.
“Yes, all for you…” I mutter incoherently.
“You ready to be honest with me now?” he asks, pushing his first two fingers into my pussy. I whimper and clench around him as he stretches me. “See, I’m not afraid to admit that I’ve been thinking about you every waking second, since the moment I knew you were back in town. Now, you admit you’ve been thinking about me too.”
I pant breathlessly as Rowan works his fingers in and out of my pussy, all while keeping his thumb moving against my clit in tight circles.
“Come on, Vi, be honest.”
I tip my head down to meet his blue eyes just wanting to fuck with him.
“Not all the time,” I say, trying my best to maintain control when really, I feel like I’m about to come all over his hand.
His fingers stop their gentle assault and he pulls back slightly to lay a tight little slap to my clit.
“I said, ‘ honest,’ ” he commands in a deep timbre under the shell of my ear.
I shiver as the pain he just caused is erased by the slow sweep of my own arousal being spread through my slit and then over my clit, as if he’s soothing the pain he just caused. Fucking hell, that feels good.
“I think of you, yes,” I moan.
“When?” he asks, working his fingers back in like a reward for my honesty.
“When I want to…feel good,” I mutter, lost to the way he’s finger fucking my pussy.
“I see…when you want to come, that’s when you think of me?”
“Yes,” I admit, feeling just free enough as his fingers slide into me in a hypnotizing rhythm. “And I…think about you a lot more than that. A lot more than I should. It’s goddamn frustrating,” I add.
“Oh, yeah? Tell me more.” I can almost feel his smirk skating across my neck with my admission. He loves that I’m at his mercy right now, but I’m too far gone to care, because the way he’s touching me tells me my body is just an instrument and he’s going to play me expertly, over and over again.
“I think of you…doing exactly this,” I cry out. His words, the dirty things he says, his touch, all of it is too much. It’s like a sort of sensory overload and I’m helpless to stop it.
“Just this?” he asks, adding more pressure to my clit. A zap of pleasure shoots up my body.
“And fucking me,” I blurt out, but it’s exactly what he wants.
“Do you want to hear my confession too?” he asks.
I nod in answer, barely able to keep it together, let alone answer him.
“This morning, I fucked my own hand, imagining this. Imagining making you this wet for me. Imagining doing unholy, depraved things to you. And I’m not ashamed to admit it. Do you know why?”
I mewl into him with his words. “Why?”
“Because you feel like my center Vi. You bring me peace, but Christ, all I want to do is fuck you like we’re at war.”
Oh God.
Just when I think I can’t take anymore, Rowan curves his fingers into me in such a way that has me writhing on the bar top. “And I think when you find someone you can have both with, you have to hold on to them as long as you can.”
All at once everything I’m feeling rolls to my center and is heightened by his sweep against my clit.
“Now, give me a little taste of what I have to look forward to. Say my name, love. Show me you’re good and ready for my cock.”
“Rowan…” I cry without any thought, as my pussy clenches around his fingers and I come—hard. My legs shake as I see stars behind my eyelids.
“Again,” he growls as he lays another little slap to my clit, and I continue coming in waves, the orgasm feels never ending.
“Rowan, please…” I trail off, burying my head in his shoulder, trying to regain my breath, trying to come back down from such an intense orgasm.
“Attagirl, I knew you could be honest.” Rowan pulls his fingers from me and sucks them clean, even sucking what he can from his thumb.
He stands between my legs, a shirtless god, his eyes full of want and I decide this vision of him is hands down the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“I’ve waited so long for you,” he says, sliding my arousal back over my still so sensitive clit. “I’m going to fucking devastate this pussy, and when I’m done Violette, you’ll be thanking me for giving you exactly what you’ve missed for ten years.”