“You’re funny. Don’t you remember my promise to you?”
Ruby’s nonchalant attempt to keep eating fires the situation further because she runs her tongue along her lip and licks the milk away, a gesture that edges me closer to her. “Was that a promise? I thought we’d returned to friends,” she says.
“Did you honestly think that?” She’s not wriggling out of this, and she’s lying. The undertones have followed us—the looks, the touches, the teenage style glances. Either Ruby makes the choice or I give up. I brush my lips against her cheek.
“Does anywhere hurt still?”
Her blue eyes meet mine. Of course, she hurts. I can see that but I can also clearly see her want matches mine. “No.”
“About bloody time,” I mutter.
I want to kiss Ruby gently. I really do, but I can’t. The need for her that’s built in the last two months explodes and I take Ruby’s face in both hands and close my lips over hers, roughly pushing my tongue into her mouth. For a millisecond, I kick myself for my stupidity, waiting for her to shove me away, and yell at me Ruby-style.
Instead, she welcomes my tongue and holds my face in return. Devouring kisses follow, pulling us further into each other. The kiss less than a week ago was amazing; this is fucking stratospheric. I place my arms either side of Ruby, caging her. In response, she stands and shoves my arms down, so I pull her against my hips.
My desire for Ruby blinds common sense, and I slide a hand up her leg to run my hands across her skin, beneath her dress until I reach her ass.
Shit, shit, shit. Groaning, I attempt to back her towards the counter again and she stands her ground, placing a hand on my chest but not removing her lips from mine. I understand. I can’t corner her. She needs to lead but this is all bloody difficult. Ruby breaks the kiss, resting her forehead against mine as our mingling breaths come in short pants.
“Okay, I can’t breathe; you’re right,” she says.
“Suffocated?”
“No, the effect you have on me.”
“What’s that?”
Ruby slides her hand along the front of my jeans and runs a finger along my hardened cock. “The same as I have on you.”
We’ve reached the line. The one I swore I wouldn’t cross with this woman; the one that I’m scared will resurrect the asshole who fucks around with women’s feelings. Or worse, this might be the final fall into something I can’t handle. Dylan’s bullshit about love has circled my mind—I don’t love, not in the consuming, selfless way he does. I was never loved, so how do I understand when that happens, if it ever does?
For fuck’s sake, Jem. Stop thinking and be yourself.
“Did I kiss you like I mean it?” I whisper, running my tongue along her neck.
Ruby shivers at the sensation. “Yeah.” She pushes her hands beneath my t-shirt, dragging her nails across my lower back. “Kiss me some more.”
“So now I get to kiss you other places?”
“You’re funny.”
“How?”
“Jem Jones making requests.” Her warm breath tickles my ear as she speaks.
I loosen my grip and slide my arms to her waist. “Because I’ll never take what you don’t want to give.”
Ruby’s eyes soften and her response is a soft, slow kiss. She tastes sweet, of Ruby and muesli—I’m going to love the taste of muesli for the rest of my life.
Pink-cheeked and mouth parted, Ruby touches my lips. “Can I make a request?”
“Anything,” I say, hoping to hell that it’s not ‘stop’.
Curling her fingers through the belt loop on my jeans, Ruby tugs me closer and whispers in my ear. “I want to go into your bedroom with you and not come out until this URST thing is dealt with.”
“URST,” I chuckle. “Fine, but don’t think you’re getting the kids and the house in the country.”