Chapter 11
Hadley
Okay, this is just unfair.
Rob is hot.
Like—ridiculously, unfairly, what-the-actual-hell hot.
And after lunch with the girls—after all the teasing and laughing and don’t-fall-for-him warnings—I was absolutely not prepared to walk into the shop and find this man standing in it, looking at me like I’m something he’s already decided belongs to him.
But here he is.
And the worst part?
My she-Bear is thrilled.
Preening.
Practically purring.
And me?
Yeah. I’m not doing much better.
He carries my bags to my apartment—because of course he has manners.
Then he’s dropping them in my bedroom.
Like it’s something he does every day. No biggie.
And here I am just kicking myself because now that I’ve seen him in my bedroom I want to see more of him—on the bed to be precise.
No! Bad girl!
He’s just so—so big.
Broad shoulders filling out that white T-shirt like it was made for him.
Tall enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
Solid. Real.
Not polished or pretty-boy perfect—no, he’s rougher than that.
Like he was built for something physical.
Something primal.
Something that makes my pulse trip over itself just looking at him.
“You smell good, Cookie,” he murmurs.
His voice drops, low and rough, and then—oh.
Oh.
Someone, pinch me.
He leans in.
I feel him before I fully process it—his breath warm against my skin, his nose brushing along the curve of my neck, down to my collarbone like he’s memorizing me by scent.
Holy.
Fuzzballs.
My fingers twitch at my sides.
“Rob—”
I should stop him.
I know I should.
But I don’t.
I don’t move.
I don’t pull away.
Because when he lifts his head, when those clear, piercing eyes lock onto mine, I forget every single reason I had for keeping my distance.
There’s nothing teasing in his gaze.
Nothing unsure.
Just heat.
Focus.
Want.
And then he kisses me.
Soft at first.
Like he’s giving me time to pull away.
I don’t.
My eyes stay open—because I don’t even think to close them—and I watch him.
Watch the way his lashes lower slightly.
The way his mouth moves against mine like he’s already learned exactly how I like it.
And Gods—I’ve never done this before.
Never just watched someone while they kiss me.
But I can’t look away.
Because Rob?
Rob knows exactly what he’s doing.
The kiss deepens, just a little.
Enough to make my breath catch.
Enough to make something inside me go warm and liquid and dangerous.
I want to forget everything.
Want to forget what he said before.
Want to forget that I swore I wouldn’t fall for him.
Want to just—jump him.
Right here.
Right now.
My hands come up, almost without permission, brushing his sides, gripping the fabric of his shirt.
And he indulges a minute or two more, but then—he pulls back.
Just like that.
Like he’s the one with control.
Like he didn’t just light me on fire.
We’re both breathing harder now.
My lips feel swollen.
My head feels fuzzy.
And his hands—Gods.
His hands are everywhere.
One at my hip, fingers digging in just enough to ground me.
The other at the back of my neck, holding me there like he doesn’t quite trust himself to let go.
“You don’t know how hard it is to stop right now,” he says, voice rough, strained in a way that sends a shiver straight down my spine. “But I need you to trust me before we go further.”
My heart stutters.
Because further sounds—yeah.
Dangerous as hell.
“Who says we’re going any further?”
“You know you can’t lie to me. Can’t pretend like you don’t want me as much as I want you. So, when I fuck you, Cookie,” he continues, blunt and certain and making my knees go weak, “and yeah, I’m going to fuck you—”
My breath catches.
“—it won’t be in a lusty haze you can talk yourself out of. It’ll be for keeps.”
I make a noise—like an almost choke.
His thumb brushes lightly along my jaw, grounding me again.
“Tell me you understand.”
I swallow.
My voice comes out softer than I expect.
“I understand.”
His expression shifts.
Softens.
Just a fraction.
“Good girl.”
The praise hits me right in the chest.
Warm.
Heavy.
Real.
“Now tell me you’ll come out with me tonight.”
My brain is still catching up.
Still spinning.
But my mouth?
“Oh—okay—I—I’ll go out with you tonight, Rob.”
His grin is slow.
Satisfied.
“Excellent.”
He leans in just enough that I feel his breath against my lips again—but he doesn’t kiss me.
Not this time.
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
And just like that?
I realize I’m in trouble.
Because I already know I’m going to say yes to whatever comes next.