by Stacy Gail
He chuckled as he joined her, getting out a couple of knives to cut the potato-based dough, and forks to mark the little doughy pillows so the sauce would cling to it better. “Pleasant surprise, yeah?”
“And then some. My first taste of gnocchi is one of my highlight-reel memories of being a Panuzzi foster.”
“Was it difficult?”
“What?”
“Being a foster kid.” He shot a glance her way, studying her expression. “I’d think it’d be tough as hell, coming into a place where everything’s new and unfamiliar.”
She shrugged, opening the bag of flour to pour a generous amount onto the butcher’s block before spreading the white stuff around with her hands. “It was always tough. But it was never unfamiliar.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was always the same crappy routine, for as long as I can remember—you got dragged to some stranger’s house with your suitcase that held about three or four days’ worth of clothes, the only possessions you had in the world. Then you were told that you’re a part of this new family, which was a total lie. But it also kind of wasn’t, because being told that meant you were expected to just magically fit in. Then you had to learn all the house rules, whatever the hell they were—and trust me, no two houses were the same. But even more important than learning the rules, you had to learn the people around you to see who was going to be trouble, and there was always at least one in the bunch. God help you if there were more.”
In his mind’s eye, he saw a kaleidoscope of memories of love and laughter with his siblings and parents. Nothing like that existed inside of Sass, though. When she thought of her childhood, there was no stability or warm nostalgia or safety to be found. As much as that pissed him off, there was nothing he could do about it. The only thing he could do was make new memories with her that were so good they blotted out all the shitty ones that came before it.
He’d had harder missions.
“I guess I made it apparent who was going to give you trouble when you came to my parents house, yeah?” After washing and drying his hands, he reached for the flour and liberally dusted them to roll out the gnocchi dough into long, snake-like “dowels” to be cut into bite-sized pillows of starchy deliciousness.
“You could say that.” Smiling, she handed him a small portion of dough to be rolled out. “In fact, you were so easy to read as the bratty foster brother, you could have come from Central Casting.”
“Bratty?”
“Totally bratty.”
“I wasn’t bratty. I was territorial.”
She snorted as she dusted her own hands. “Trust me, it’s possible to be both.”
“Nope. I was territorial, not bratty.” Glancing up from his work, he spritzed a handful of flour all over her. “That’s bratty. See the difference?”
She gasped even as the flour peppered her. She looked up with cute little flour-freckles all over her face and hair, mouth hanging open and fire pouring into her dark eyes.
Damn, she was hot.
“Rude.” She said his name very quietly. The warning in it made his spine tingle. “You do know this means war, right?”
“I’m an ex-Marine, I think I can—”
The rest of his cocky statement got lost in a dusty mouthful of flour.
Game on.
The world turned white as flour exploded everywhere. It billowed up in a majestic cloud as Sass threw fistfuls at him while he did the same. Laughing squeals came from her as he tossed one arc of powdered white after another in her direction, but she was surprisingly adept at dodging, while simultaneously reloading her ammo.
He had to give her credit. She was good at waging war.
But he was better.
“Gotcha.” Fast as lightning, he caught her wrist as he saw her grab at the flour bag, and with one tug he brought her body up against his where it belonged. She was will laughing when she settled against him, and he turned her mouth up to his. He took it hungrily even as her freed hand—still full of flour—rubbed into his hair until he had to close his eyes against the snowstorm of white falling around them.
“Yeah, you got me. And I got you.” She lifted a teasing eyebrow while her final attack dusted them both. “So who wins this war?”
“I’ll never surrender.”
“Neither will I.”
“We’ll see about that.” He pushed whitened tendrils of hair back behind her ears before he shook his head. “You look like you should be dredged in egg and fried up nice and crisp.”
“You should look in a mirror, pal.”
“I’d rather look at you. And kiss you. And be inside you until you’re screaming my name so loud your neighbors know who’s fucking you.” All at once everything was as serious as a heart attack, and again he brought her mouth to his, needing her taste to fill his world.
He hated her clothes with an irrational fervor. Pulling her away from the remnants of their flour fight, he battled the material covering her until it was all gone, while she seemed to find what he wore just as offensive. He paused just long enough to retrieve protection before he kicked his jeans away, unseen, and rolled the condom in place, then backed her up against the counter near the sink, his mouth on hers. Greedily his hands roamed over her petite body, marveling again at how perfectly proportioned she was. As small in stature as she was, her curves were killer; her breasts were full enough to fill even his big hands. His fingers kneaded that fullness, unable to get enough of the feel of her, and when she arched into his palms with her head falling back, he had to taste her or lose his fucking mind.
“You’re so damn hot, you make me shake. Make me burn. Make me crazy.” As he listened to the words coming out of him, Rude realized what she made him feel was just this side of heaven. This was why he’d crawled through hell for eight days, refusing to give up, and every second of it had been worth it.
He was finally where he needed to be.
“Rude.” Her whisper hit him like a physical blow. “Put your mouth on me.”
“Fuck, Sassy.” It was a ragged groan that was torn from him out of an agony of arousal. The next second he was there, bending to suckle the mauve nipple with a ferocity that made her moan low and long. She put a hand on the counter to steady herself, the other in his hair to hold him to her, and one slender leg skimmed over the outside of his thigh in a wordless plea for more.
In everything she did, she unraveled him completely.
“Time now for my real favorite thing to eat.” He lowered to his knees, and as he went he brushed his lips down the line of her belly to the sensitive skin below the navel. Then he hooked an arm under her thigh so that it rested on his shoulder, while his other hand delved into her cleft.
“Oh…God.” The fingers she had in his hair clenched as he stroked and circled her clit until her hips undulated in a rhythm that threatened to break his brain. Her wetness filled him with triumph, boosting his own urgent hunger until he thought his cock would fucking explode. “Oh, God. So good, Rude. You feel so good.” Another cry escaped her, and he groaned in response, shuddering under the strain of control.
“Hearing you, seeing you, when you’re getting off…it turns me inside-out.” He didn’t bother to check the confession. She gave him the ultimate truth by showing him through her response what he made her feel. It was only fair to return the favor. “If I could keep you like this forever, it’d be the most perfect kind of forever imaginable.” Then, with her heel digging into his back to bring him closer, he gave her what they both wanted and brought his mouth to her cleft.
A broken sound shot out of her. It rang in his ears as he ran his tongue over the nub he’d already stimulated to a throbbing head. His cock pulsed with need while his stomach muscles tensed and his balls grew so heavy he groaned at the near-pain. Her taste was as perfect as her headlong response, so he braced her back against the counter, opened her legs wider and put his lips around her clit to suck her in.
She screamed. It was airless, so high-pitched it alm
ost had no sound, but it was a scream.
It was the most magnificent sound he’d ever heard.
As much as he longed to keep her wrapped up in that madness forever, he heard the sudden shortening of her gasps and felt the impossible tension thrumming through her body reaching a fever pitch. In a heartbeat he rose, taking her up with him as he did so, her one leg still over his upper arm while he glued his hands to her ass. He plunged into her even as he set her on the edge of the counter, bringing her other leg up to maximize his penetration.
Yes.
Pleasure stabbed into him even as he stabbed into her, impaling his cock into her tight, slick depths again and again until it was all he knew and the sweet sheath gloving his hardened flesh convulsed.
Her voice broke, a wildly abandoned sound that called his name. Hearing it shattered the last of his control. Then he heard nothing but his own roar of satisfaction as he came harder and more sweetly than he ever had in his life.
Chapter Sixteen
“This is going to be awkward. Painfully awkward.”
“It’s not going to be awkward.” Rude didn’t roll his eyes—he was too busy scanning the airport’s short-term parking area for a spot—but Sass heard it in his tone. “You’ve known my parents almost half your life. How the hell is picking them up at the airport awkward?”
“I’m picking them up with you. That’s how it’s awkward. Oh, look.” She pointed to a car pulling out. “Line yourself up and get in there.”
“That’s what she said.”
She laughed, then decided to be irritated because she didn’t want to laugh, even if it was her favorite kind of joke. But she also didn’t want to be irritated with the man behind the wheel of the black SUV that looked like it could pull double-duty as a tank. She didn’t want to be irritated with him because other than insisting that she accompany him to pick up Mama Coco and Papa Bolo from the airport, Rude had been the brightest spot in a weekend filled with bright spots.
Their flour fight had made an ungodly mess of both the apartment and them, but she’d been content to live with the mess while enjoying the gnocchi they’d eventually made together. As she did, she’d reveled in his company, even as she’d slowly been driven crazy by feel of the pale, pasty crust forming on her skin. Clean-up had been just as much fun as getting dirty, as they’d finally wound up in a hot, steaming shower together.
That was where the tone of their intimacy had changed—or perhaps a better description would have been deepened—and if she thought about it, it still freaked her out.
Condoms had always been an absolute staple in her world, holding a place just below oxygen, gravity and sunlight on her list of necessities, despite having been on the Pill since her late teens. It was never a good idea to use a condom in a wet environment like a shower or hot tub, and she’d always avoided that particular scenario because of it. But getting clean with Rude had sounded like so much fun that it had never even crossed her mind.
Even more remarkably, the thought of protection had stayed out of her mind until he’d asked if she was on birth control, and by then he’d had her so aroused with his awesome magic fingers that she’d been more than happy to nod yes. Then her back had been up against the tiled wall, one of her arms around his shoulders for support, the other holding onto the shower’s interior towel bar, and her legs clamped around his hips as he plunged into her like a fucking piston.
Concern over something like an STD was virtually zero, because like her, Rude had a long history of being obsessed with safe sex…until now.
Apparently somewhere along the way, they’d both lost their minds.
She didn’t want to think about what that meant, since she was already wigged out about it. Technically speaking, she knew sensation-wise there would be a slight difference in having nothing between them. But that physical closeness was nothing compared to the psychological effect the removal of that barrier was having on her. It was as though some invisible defense she’d had installed around her feelings had also been stripped away. Maybe it was weird, but the physical existence of a condom had somehow represented the comfort of emotional distance for her. Now that it was gone, it was like she was flying without a net. As crazy-exhilarating as that was, there were times when it also had her so scared she could barely breathe.
“Help me remember, Sass, we’re on Level 3, Row D.” An icy blast of wind gusted through the covered garage as they headed toward the terminals. She hunched her shoulders against it before she found herself huddled beneath his arm, his steps quickly guiding her through the automatic doors. His big body’s warmth radiated like a blessing through her tailored trench coat that, while looking fabulous with its wide belt and lapels, wasn’t big on keeping the cold out.
“Damn, that felt like winter.” His arm tightened around her as the doors closed behind them and the bustle of airport madness hit them full-force. “You’re so small I thought you were going to blow away.”
“I hate to say it, but I think it’s time to say goodbye to our nice, mild autumn and get ready to hibernate for the next few months.”
“Hibernating with you could be a lot of fun.” Glancing around at the baggage carousels he looked up at a sign. “Okay, this is international baggage claim. Mom and Dad will be coming in upstairs, on the domestic flight level.”
A crazy fit of nerves struck hard. “Seriously, I could wait here while you—”
“Shut up.” He pulled her onto a long, ascending escalator, stood her on the stair above him, and turned her so that he could look her square in the eyes. “I told you straight up that I’m not going to hide that we’re together, and neither are you”
The arrogance of that statement sparked a hint of anger, and she frowned at him. “You really think you get to dictate to me what I can and can’t do?”
“So you do want to hide that we’re together? You’re ashamed to be with me? You never seemed to care about being with any of the losers you had with you at family get-togethers.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Horrified that he’d even say those words aloud, she laid a hand on his cheek and brushed her thumb over his lips, trying to erase the words. “I never cared about being with those guys because they didn’t mean anything to me. You do. Oh God,” she interrupted herself with a shocked gasp. “I can’t believe I just said that. But… oh shit, it’s true. You actually mean something to me. I mean, I don’t know what, exactly, but this does explain why I feel like I’m about to throw up all over your shoes.”
“Sassy Pants, it would’ve been great if you’d stopped about a sentence or two back. But I get it,” he added when she looked up at him with a sound of distress. Chuckling in such a manly way she wanted to clobber him, he opened his warm, black wool coat and pulled her flush against him, closing her in a bubble of solid comfort. “You’re coming to care about me, and you care about my parents. You want everyone to be cool with us being together, and it’d break your heart if they didn’t approve. But remember, other people don’t fucking matter, baby. The only people who matter in this relationship are you and me. That’s it.”
“It wouldn’t break my heart if they didn’t approve.” And there she was, once again saying the exact opposite of what she thought, because the disapproval of his family would break her heart. Rude was Mama Coco and Papa Bolo’s youngest biological child, whereas she was the youngest of the strays they took in. She came with a lot of baggage—baggage they knew about. Like the loving parents they were, Mama Coco and Papa Bolo no doubt had high hopes for their son to find someone who fit him on every conceivable level. Someone who came from the same kind of solid background that he did, someone who knew how to continue that harmonious and beautiful stability. Someone he could build a life with.
She wasn’t anything like that.
“Sass, look at me.”
Only then did she realize she’d buried her face in his neck. That show of spinelessness pissed her off enough to make her jerk her head up and try to look like she wasn’t completel
y freaking out. “I’m fine, Rude, okay? Just remember that I’m not into any huge and sloppy PDAs in front of them or anyone in general, all right? Seriously, whenever I see a couple getting into one, I just want to find the nearest hose and—”
The last word got swallowed by his mouth. Hers stilled, then molded against his a half-second later even as her body flowed against his. One of her hands came to slide into his crisp, soft hair, while the other snuck under his coat to cup the curve of his rock-hard, well-toned ass.
God, she adored his ass.
The mental chaos of PDAs, complicated relationships, approval or disapproval over being together with her former enemy vanished, and a wave of peace rolled in. He did this for her, she marveled as she gave herself over to Rude’s kiss. With a touch, a glance, a kiss, he pushed the world away when it was closing in, and he made it quiet inside her. He vanquished her fits of anxiety before they could poison her, and he helped her find the strength to stand tall when she wanted to curl up in her Nowhere Place and hide. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had any clue how much he gave her. If she could give him even a fraction of it back, her world would become just about perfect.
Sass? What the hell… Sass?”
Rude’s head lifted and, still lost in the lush heat of his kiss, it took Sass a second to realize someone was calling her name from high above. Blankly she peeked over the lapel of Rude’s coat still wrapped around her, and spotted Scout and Ivar near the top of the descending escalator, arms around each other and loaded down with carry-ons.
“Oh. Scout.” Shocked, Sass felt her face heat when she realized she’d been caught in one those PDAs she supposedly despised, and started to move away. Rude’s arms locked tight, and the message was received loud and clear—she wasn’t going anywhere. “Uh, hey. Welcome back, Mr. and Mrs. Fournier.”
“I’m hyphenating, and what the hell are you doing here?” At last they passed each other, with Scout turning so she could continue to gawk up at them. “Besides kissing Rude, I mean?”