“Hey.” Rory stopped at the curb and took off his helmet, setting it down beside the one he’d brought for Olive. In one quick movement, he climbed off the bike and strode toward her on the curb. “Hey. You want to be my girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
His mouth crushed down onto Olive’s, his forearm slinging beneath her butt to draw her up onto her toes. Commuters honked as they passed by, but Rory barely heard any of it. He was only there for the little whimpers in Olive’s throat, the rasp of her bare thighs against his jeans. Their mouths wrestled, Olive gripping the collar of his shirt, not only receiving the kiss, but giving it back to him, like she’d been hungry for it, too. More than his next breath, Rory wanted to pick her up by that tight, sexy ass and feel the life-affirming sensation of her thighs locking around his waist, but he heard the doorman clear his throat at the building entrance and somehow managed to lift his head.
“H-how…am I supposed to go to class now?”
“You’ll manage.” Rory flicked a glance over Olive’s head and noted the disapproval in the man’s expression—he was doing nothing to hide it. Olive stared to follow his line of sight, but Rory caught her chin and planted a final hard kiss on her mouth. “Come on. I set up the bar early and bribed someone to cover my chair for the first hour, so I can drive you back.”
Just like the other night when Rory rode Olive on his bike, he was a nervous wreck for the entire ride to Stony Brook, but she seemed to sense his tension. The fingers splayed on his chest moved in soothing circles while they ate up the distance on the highway. She planted a kiss in the center of his back and laid her cheek over the spot toward the end of the ride. After that, he wanted to drive another hundred miles, but he wouldn’t let her miss class.
They were early, however, which led to them parking behind the Burnbaum building to wait. Rory took off both of their helmets and hung them from the handlebars, but when he would have lifted Olive off the bike, he only turned her sideways on the seat, running his palms up her thighs. Letting his fingertips creep under the hem of her white shorts.
“You were wearing these the day I met you.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I have a test today, so I wore them for good luck.”
How was he supposed to stop himself from devouring her when she said things like that? As it was, he couldn’t keep his hands from memorizing the texture of her legs, her arms, her neck and face. She did the same to him, scrubbing her palms on his abdomen, trailing her fingertips up and across his chest.
“So I’m your girlfriend now?”
For as long as you want to be, sunbeam. “That’s right.”
Pink blew across her cheekbones and he almost proposed. Honest to God. “What exactly does this entail? Having a boyfriend.”
“I don’t know what having a boyfriend entails for other girls. I only know what it’s going to mean for you.” Rory tangled a hand in Olive’s hair and tongued her lips open, savoring her gasp before sinking them both into a kiss that made the ground move under his feet. “I’m going to want to know you’re safe. All the time. I’m going to be obsessive about it—and I don’t think I can help that.” He pulled back an inch. “I’m going to miss you when you’re not with me. When you are, I’m probably going to stare at you. A lot. I’ll be wondering how the hell this smart, funny, sexy girl is all mine.” He set the hair wrapped around his knuckles free, dropping both hands to her knees and easing them wider so he could press closer, watch her eyes widen when his cock met the seam of her shorts. “I’m going to touch my girlfriend all over.” A roll of his hips made her eyelids flutter, her chest shudder. “And I’m going to fuck her rotten.”
“Rory,” she gasped.
“What’s it going to mean for me?” he asked her in between soft bites of her neck. “Having a girlfriend.”
Olive stuttered her way through some gibberish, then appeared to give up, scooting her hips closer to the edge of the seat. “I can’t think right now.”
Unable to subdue his smile, Rory caught her full lower lip between his teeth and tugged. “You want me to get on Facebook? So you can tag me in pictures and all that nonsense?” As soon as the suggestion was out of his mouth, he wanted to take it back. What if she didn’t want her college friends to know she was dating a bartender without an education? “Forget I said that—”