Chapter 14
SAVANNAH
This is either a cosmic joke or a sign from the universe that I’m right where I’m supposed to be at this moment.
Rory pulls me into his chest while I remain undecided on the turn of events. He maneuvers me to switch places, becoming a barrier between Slicer and me. He smiles at me like he’s excited to see me.
He gives me his back and leans forward, presumably saying something to Slicer.
Blake signals me again and widens her eyes, bouncing her gaze between Rory and me. I pinch my lips to hide my giddy smile. I mouth his name to her, and her jaw drops in quiet surprise. She waves her hands at me in a shooing motion, indicating that she wants me to leave with Rory.
Rory turns back around, and I get a short glimpse of Slicer. His face is tight and turning red as he scowls at Rory, but Rory doesn’t pay him any attention.
My brows squish together as I look up into Rory’s face.
What is he doing here? Does he come here a lot? Does he usually go home alone?
Crap.
I’m so dumb. Of course, he doesn’t go home alone. I highly doubt he’s a virgin. Most people don’t have a serial killer for a father who shamed them into chastity.
But I don’t like the thought of him leaving with someone else.
I don’t like it one bit.
Rory snags my hand and leads me away. I use my free hand to keep my purse on my shoulder, making sure I don’t lose it.
I glance back to make sure Blake is okay, and she gives me a salute and a knowing wink.
At least I know I don’t have to worry about her.
Unable to see over Rory’s shoulder, I poke my head out to the side once we’re off the dance floor to see where we’re going. My face scrunches when I see that we’re headed toward a set of stairs with a bouncer and a velvet rope like the one at the entrance.
The bouncer sees us coming and unclips the rope without even speaking to Rory, granting us entry.
We climb up a twisting metal staircase, and at the top is a more luxurious seating area overlooking the club below.
There’s a bar just like others downstairs, with bartenders doing fancy tricks.
But up here, there are fewer people. Couples and trios sit spaced out from each other, laughing and drinking yummy-looking cocktails.
This must be the VIP section.
Just when I think we’re about to stop, Rory keeps going. He guides me to a door that’s almost hidden. It blends in perfectly with the wall. If there wasn’t yet another bouncer in front of it, I would think that Rory is leading me to the corner.
The bouncer, yet again, opens the door for us without Rory having to prove who he is or that he belongs here.
Through the door is a dimly lit hallway. When we’re closed off from the VIP area, the volume of the music lowers significantly.
“Where are we going?” I’m finally able to ask him.
“You’ll see,” is all he tells me, and we stop at another door.
What is with this maze?
I hear some beeps like he’s typing on a keypad, and then the unmistakable sound of a door opening. I poke my head around him again and watch as Rory removes his hand from a screen that I assume just scanned his palm to let us in.
He pulls me into the room and finally releases my hand, going straight for an elegant cart filled with decanters. As he gets himself a drink, I hear the sound of rattling glass.
The room has nice hardwood floors that shine even with the low lighting. There’s a seating area with a couch and a couple of armchairs that match the aesthetic of the rest of the club. The wall opposite the door is made of tinted glass, giving a view of the first floor.
“Whose office is this?” I ask, still standing by the door.
“Mine,” Rory answers without looking at me.
I gawk in disbelief. “Yours?”
“I own the place,” he explains simply, like it’s no big deal.
Scanning the room further, I find a wood-carved desk off to the right. It’s huge with multiple monitors and the computer behind it. The servers behind the desk are tall and occupy a considerable amount of space.
My hand covers my mouth as I move closer to get a better look.
“Do you have dual EPYC in there?” I hold my hand up to touch the cold metal, but I hold back, afraid it’ll somehow crumble.
Something like this costs millions of dollars.
“NVMe RAID? How many lanes? Do you have immersion cooling or a custom loop?”
Turning to face Rory and find him leaning against the opposite wall next to the cart with two drinks in his hand, grinning ear to ear. As he pushes himself forward, he crosses the room to me. “You really do know your stuff.”
“You’re the one who hired me,” I sass.
“Actually, that was Hunter,” he shoots back.
I shrug, pushing his comment aside. “My father was a computer whiz, and he taught me some things here and there.”
“I think he taught you quite a bit,” he pushes.
“Maybe,” I return, unable to look him in the eye.
“I’d say definitely.” Rory hands me one of the glasses, and I promptly take a sip.
“Potato, po-tah-to.” I shrug my shoulders and take another sip. “So…”
“So?”
Peering up at him, a million questions dance on the end of my tongue, but I don’t want to come off as desperate and clingy.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called,” he apologizes with a tilt of his head.
I frown faintly. “Why didn’t you?”
He lets out a single laugh and runs his hand down his face. “Well. I—Uh—” His cheeks pinken, and it’s absolutely adorable. “I didn’t want to seem needy.”
“Needy?” I question, setting my glass and crossbody clutch on the desk.
“Yes, needy.” He glances at his drink, then tosses it back, consuming the whole thing in one gulp.
I cross my arms and lean my weight on one leg, popping my hip. “Why would calling me when you said you would mean that you’re needy?”
Rory places his empty glass next to mine. “Okay, look. I’ve never done this before.” He opens his hands at his sides in a vulnerable gesture.
“Done what?”
He entwines his fingers together. “Pursued a woman like this.”
“It shows. You haven’t done anything to pursue me besides kiss me twice. You realize that makes you sound like an asshole, right?”
Blake is going to be so mad that she missed that.
Rory chortles. “You’re right. It does.” He rubs the back of his neck as the rouge spreads from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.
His embarrassment softens my attitude, and I take a small step toward him, softening my stance. “If you had called me, what would you have said?”
He gives me a lop-sided smile, endearing him even more to me. As he answers, he takes a step as well, bringing us toe to toe. “I would’ve told you that I had a great time together and that I’ve thought about that first kiss every minute since you walked away from me.”
With Rory so close, I’m able to really look at him. His black-on-black outfit gives him a slight bad-boy vibe. The sexy stubble along his jaw emphasizes its strong shape. His lips are just as I remember, and I’m desperate to feel them on mine again.
The rapidly increasing beat of my heart is too much and not enough at the same time. I want more of this feeling.
Biting my bottom lip, I peek up at him through my lashes. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” he answers as he traces the curve of my jaw with his fingertip. That single touch sends a jolt through my body, causing me to clench my thighs together. Rory doesn’t miss the movement and smirks.
“Mind sharing?” My question comes out breathy.
“I don’t want to scare you off.” Rory glides his finger down my neck, and I swallow, loving the anticipation. I want his touch everywhere. I want him to touch me in places no one else ever has before.
“Do I seem like a girl who gets scared easily?” My tone is one I didn’t even know I could produce. It’s challenging, yet inviting.
Rory studies me, his eyes tracking every inch of my face, as if he’s memorizing every detail. “No, but I’m not sure I’m willing to risk it.”
Despite his words, Rory wraps his arm around me as his finger continues its path down my chest, stopping at the neckline of my dress. My chest rises and falls dramatically. I need him to keep going, but he doesn’t. He stares down at me like he’s waiting for something.
“Tell me you want this. Tell me you need me, Baby.” He almost sounds like he’s pleading with me.
Do I want him?
Yes.
Am I going to regret it?
I hope not.
With my mind made up, I give him three little words. “I need you.”
Rory’s hand on my back snakes up into my hair and guides me forward as his head dips. Our mouths crash together in an urgent kiss. His tongue glides along mine as I claw at his shirt, grappling to hold onto something that will keep me from falling when my legs inevitably give out.
His finger drifts back and forth along my neckline, skimming over the top of my breasts. I feel myself get wet from his faint touch. Begging him for more, I push my chest out, but he still won’t give it to me.
Rory’s relentless teasing is going to be my undoing.
I groan in frustration, and Rory pulls his head back an inch. “Tell me what you need, Dream Girl. Say it and it’s yours.”
I can’t make the words come out of my mouth.
I hate that expressing my wants and needs is so difficult. I hate that sharing those things puts me in a vulnerable position. It opens me up to being rejected and judged.
“Hey,” Rory uses his hand to lift my chin, directing my gaze to his. “You can trust me. Let me take care of you.”
Trust is earned. People are supposed to work for it.
But with Rory, something in my soul tells me that I really can trust him, that I’m safe here. It’s abnormal for me, but I want to exist in this feeling.
My eyes dart to the window next to us, and Rory follows my glance.
“It’s a two-way mirror. No one can see in,” he explains before I can ask my question.
Gathering my courage, I give him my honest, vulnerable words. “I need you to make me feel good. Please.”
Rory’s smug satisfaction radiates from him. “Your wish is my command, Baby.”