by Reese Ryan
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d truly enjoyed a meal prior to the breakfast Annabel had prepared at the beach. Back home, most of his meals consisted of the same boring takeout eaten mindlessly in front of a computer screen.
And it’d been ages since he’d done something as simple and magnificent as walking along the beach on a quiet night, as he’d done hand in hand with Annabel.
He knew all of the reasons he shouldn’t be thinking of her the way he had been. He’d remembered them by rote. Client. Family. Distance. Rebound. He repeated them to himself as he lay staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep at night because thoughts of Annabel filled his head.
Roarke turned off the water and dried himself off with a thick bath towel. His skin still partially damp, he slipped on a faded T-shirt and an old pair of shorts to sleep in. Leftover college clothing he’d retrieved from his old bedroom at his father’s ranch.
He went to the kitchen and searched through the fridge for a late-night snack before bed.
There was a knock at his door.
He checked his watch. It was just after midnight. It was undoubtedly his sister checking up on him after her date with Ryder to see how the conversation with their father had gone.
He considered not answering. After all, a part of him was still annoyed that his sister had forced the awkward conversation between him and Sterling.
There was another knock at the door, this one more persistent.
Roarke opened the door. “Look, Angela—”
“Guess again.” Annabel wore an impish smile, her brown eyes filled with mischief. She held up two white paper bags. The savory, tantalizing aroma of its contents made his stomach rumble in anticipation. “I hope you aren’t too disappointed. May I come in?”
“Of course.” He stepped aside to let her in.
“It is officially tomorrow. So I’m here with dinner, as promised. It seemed like you needed a friend tonight.”
“I must’ve sounded really pitiful on the phone.” He kissed her cheek and relieved her of the bags. Its contents were still warm. “But I’m grateful you came. Now, what’ve you got?”
“I hope you’re in the mood for Chinese. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I got a little of everything. Ham-fried rice, chicken moo goo gai pan, pepper steak, pot stickers and egg rolls. They have the most authentic Chinese food in town. The neighborhood is a tad sketch and the late-night crowd can be sort of odd, but the food is totally worth it.”
“I can’t believe you risked life and limb to bring me takeout.”
“You say that like it’s crazy right now, but once you’ve tasted the food, it’ll all make sense.” She removed her leather backpack and set it on a chair. Her eyes scanned the space. “Nice condo.”
“Thanks. Have a seat.” He indicated the barstools in the kitchen. “I’ll grab some plates, as soon as I figure out where they are.” He opened one cabinet after another.
It’d been a long time since he’d stayed at the condo.
Annabel hopped off the stool and slid past him. “It might be quicker if I handle this.”
He was inclined to argue, but she navigated the kitchen better instinctually than he had relying on his limited memory of the space.
She’d waved him off, indicating that he could sit down while she looked through the cupboards. But as he stood behind her, he was drawn to the heavenly sweet scent drifting from her golden brown skin.
He shut his eyes and repeated the words that were so familiar to him.
Client. Family. Distance. Rebound. Client. Family. Distance...
Roarke cursed under his breath as he opened his eyes, his gaze roaming over the flirty, white boho shift dress with a floral navy design. The hemline grazed her midthigh and the gauzy white fabric was slightly sheer, revealing the fitted lining beneath it that clung to her lean, shapely curves in all the right places.
His body tensed as the very last thread of his carefully-cultivated self-control snapped.
He stepped closer, his arms encircling Annabel’s narrow waist and nestling her firm round bottom tight against him, eliciting a soft gasp from her.
She rested her hands gently atop his. Her head lolled to one side and he took the opportunity to nuzzle her neck and inhale more of her enticing scent.
“God, you smell amazing, Annabel,” he whispered against her skin. “Good enough to eat.”
Her body melted against his and her chest rose and fell with increasingly shallow breaths. She swiveled her hips, increasing the contact between them.
He groaned in her ear in response to the delightful sensation of her curvy bottom grinding against him. He grew harder and his heart beat faster.
Roarke ran his tongue down the column of her graceful neck. Kissed the space where her neck and shoulder met.
Annabel responded with a soft purr as she looped one arm around his neck.
He kissed her shoulder, exposed by the neckline of her dress.
Roarke tugged the neckline down, exposing more of her silky skin. He trailed soft slow kisses along her shoulder and back as one hand glided up her stomach and cupped her firm breast, his palm teasing the stiff peak through the thin fabric.
His temperature rose and electricity zipped up his spine. He ached with desire for her. Roarke tugged the front of the dress down, exposing the round globe with its stiff brown peak. He grazed it with his thumb and she responded with a sensual murmur as she arched into his touch.
Roarke couldn’t stand the anticipation another minute. He needed to taste her skin. To find out if it was as sweet as it smelled. He turned her toward him.
When she tipped her chin to meet his gaze, he was lost in her beautiful brown eyes. He leaned down, capturing her sensual lips in a greedy kiss.
He glided his hands down and gripped the hem of her dress, lifting over her head and tossing it onto a nearby barstool. Roarke lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed.
The only meal he wanted now was Annabel Currin.
* * *
Annabel’s heart raced and the damp space between her thighs throbbed like a steady heartbeat. Roarke laid her on her back in his bed and crawled on the mattress, hovering over her.
His woodsy, freshly scrubbed scent filled her nostrils and made her wonder about the taste of his skin.
He stripped off his faded college T-shirt and shorts, freeing his erection. Annabel sank her teeth into her lower lip. The pulsing of her core grew stronger.
The scruff on his chin grazed her skin as he laid kisses on her chest. When he took one of the sensitive nubs in his mouth and sucked it, she glided her fingers into his hair with a soft sigh.
He kissed his way down her body, smiling when he noticed the rose gold chains decorated with little charms across her hips between the sheer black panels of her floral lace bikini.
“Cute,” he murmured against her skin, regarding the charms in the shapes of cherries, the letter x and a pair of red lips. “My favorite part is how easy it is to remove.”
He unhooked the chains on either hip and kissed his way along the freshly shaven skin. Each kiss brought him closer to the space between her thighs, throbbing in anticipation of his touch.
When he pressed a kiss to her slick, swollen clit, she whimpered, her fingers gripping his short hair. When he laved it with his tongue, then sucked, she was sure she would explode. She dug her heels in the mattress as she moved against his mouth. Desperate for more of the delicious sensation.
Roarke spread her with his thumbs, his tongue stroking her sensitive flesh until she cried out with pleasure, her body trembling.
He crawled back up the bed, pressing a kiss to her ear. “You taste good everywhere,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.
“I’m glad you approve.” She panted, still trying to catch her breath.
He reached into the bedside table and pull
ed out an unopened box. Tearing into it, he removed a few of the little foil packets. Ripping one open, he sheathed himself before kissing her neck and moving on top of her.
Her body vibrated with need as Roarke pressed himself to her entrance, his gaze locked with hers. Annabel dug her fingers into his lower back, whimpering in response to the intense sensation of Roarke filling her as they moved together. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in deeper.
The friction of their bodies moving together brought her closer to the edge, her pleasure building until she cried out his name. Her body quivered and the space between her thighs pulsed.
He moved inside her, his breathing heavier, until his body went stiff and he found his release, his gaze meeting hers and her name on his lips.
The pulsing of his body inside hers sent ripples of pleasure through her, intensifying the incredible orgasm he’d already given her.
Roarke pressed a kiss to her lips, his thumb stroking her cheek. “You are absolutely incredible, Annabel.”
He lay on his back and propped an arm behind his head.
“Hmm...” Annabel murmured dreamily as she nestled against him, her body thoroughly satisfied. She slung one arm across his waist and pressed a kiss to his chest. “And so are you.”
But even as her body pulsed with intense satisfaction and her heart swelled with a growing affection for him, she couldn’t stop thinking about how much it would hurt when it was time to let Roarke go.
Sixteen
Roarke’s eyes slowly opened. The room was pitch-black, courtesy of the heavy room-darkening curtains that most executives seemed to prefer. He flipped his wrist and checked his watch. He’d ignored his earlier alarm and it was now nearly eight in the morning. Way past the time he usually awoke.
He stretched his free arm. The other was beneath Annabel as he cradled her to his chest.
He could become accustomed to waking up with Annabel in his arms.
They’d made love twice, then awakened in the middle of the night, eaten Chinese food in bed and then made love again.
It was no wonder they were both exhausted.
Roarke pressed a kiss to Annabel’s forehead and she muttered something before rolling over in the opposite direction.
Annabel Currin was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. She was gorgeous, genuinely thoughtful, and she’d made him laugh so much his abdominal muscles were sore.
They’d been acquainted for such a short time. Yet, he’d developed such a deep affection for her. Feelings that seemed very much like love.
He let out a low groan and slid his arm from beneath Annabel before rolling out of bed. Roarke tossed out a few of the take-out boxes before stepping into the shower.
Hands pressed to the wall, he shut his eyes and let the warm water sluice over his skin.
Annabel.
She was a remarkable woman, unlike anyone he’d ever known. If the circumstances were different, he’d tell Annabel how he felt about her. But he wasn’t interested in a long-distance relationship. And relocation wasn’t an option for either of them.
So where did that leave them?
Completely screwed.
After their night at the beach, there was a part of him that wondered if he wouldn’t have been better off if they’d never met. Then they wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of saying goodbye. But he’d quickly realized that spending time with Annabel was a gift.
One he could never bring himself to regret.
The shower door opened, and he turned to see Annabel step inside. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, the side of her face pressed to his back.
“Good morning, handsome.” She pressed a kiss to his damp skin. “How are you this morning?”
“Better now.” He laid his hands atop hers and turned over one shoulder to kiss her. “I don’t want you to think that this is the reason I called you last night. But I’m glad you came here, just the same.”
“Good. Because I’m glad I came, too. In fact, I hope to do it again.”
She kissed his back, her hand moving to stroke the erection, which had started the moment he’d laid eyes on her naked body stepping inside the shower.
He would’ve laughed at her pun, but his brain was too focused on the movement of her hand as she stroked his shaft slowly and deliberately, her naked breasts pressed into his back.
“Damn,” he muttered beneath his breath. The sensation built, slowly rolling up his spine. His need was spiraling out of control. Every muscle in his body tensed, craving release.
“Babe, no.” He could barely utter the words. But he needed her to stop before it was too late. As incredible as her firm, insistent pumping of his shaft felt, he wanted to come buried deep inside her, her slick, sensual flesh gripping his as he took them both on a sensual ride.
But Annabel had no intention of handing over the reins of control. She trailed kisses across his back as one hand glided up and down his steely length and the other cupped him from below. He’d lost the will to resist as the combination of erotic sensations sent him hurtling over the edge in a violent climax. Her hands gently squeezing and twisting until he’d been bled dry.
Breathing heavily, he collapsed against the wall, his hands pressed to the shower tiles. When he’d finally recovered, he turned around and kissed her, cradling her face as his tongue met hers in an intensely passionate kiss.
It was pointless to deny it. He was in serious danger of falling head over heels in love with Annabel Currin.
* * *
Roarke sat beside Annabel at the kitchen island, working on his second Belgian waffle. He was beginning to understand why some of his old college friends had gotten thicker in the middle after getting married. At this rate, he’d be sporting a spare tire by the end of the month.
And he could think of few better ways to spend his mornings than watching her move about the condo wearing one of his T-shirts.
The morning news played quietly on the television in the background as they chatted over breakfast. She’d shown him the portfolio of possible candidates for her next Fairy Godmother makeover. Some had been nominated by followers of her vlog. Others she’d learned about through women’s shelters and other local charities she often partnered with.
He hadn’t realized that there was so much more to these women’s stories than a desire for pretty clothing and expensive makeup. Some of the women were cancer survivors. A few had lost everything in a natural disaster. Others were rebuilding their lives after dealing with unspeakable hardships.
Suddenly, it became clear why he and Annabel had so much in common. Despite growing up surrounded by wealth, they were both driven to give back and do good in the world, each of them in their own way.
“It’s always so hard to decide who gets awarded with a Fairy Godmother makeover each quarter. But with the income from the spa and the vintage consignment shop, I’ll be able to give away a lot more makeovers to women who need help reentering the workforce.”
“You’re an amazing woman, Annabel.” Roarke handed her cell phone back to her. “Mason Harrison wasn’t even close to being good enough for you. I’m sorry for any pain he brought you, but you deserve so much better.” He kissed her cheek.
“Like maybe a crusading young attorney who fights the good fight, not knowing if he’ll ever be paid a dime for his work?” A sexy smile spread across her face. He wanted to glide his palms up her thighs, drag the scraps of lace down her legs and take her right there on the barstool.
“No.” He leaned in and kissed her softly, then whispered in her ear. “You deserve much better than him, too.”
A deep frown marred her beautiful face. Then she quickly changed the subject. “I’m eager to get started on the renovations for Fairy Godmother. I hope to have it open around the time that the Texas Cattleman’s Club building renovations are done. Maybe I’ll be able to do som
e sort of collaboration with the club.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” He nodded. “I know you’re eager to get the reno started and that you like Davis Lewiston and his grandson—”
“Elliot. He’s going to be great on camera.” She jotted down a few notes in the black leather-bound traveler’s notebook where she kept track of future vlog ideas. “And yes, I really like them.”
“Just don’t get too attached before you see their estimate and check a few more of their references,” he suggested. “I admire your passion for this project, but when it comes to business decisions, it’s best to approach the situation logically rather than with your heart.”
“I appreciate your concern, Roarke.” She glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to the leather notebook inscribed with her name. “But you know I could never work with someone who doesn’t get me, right?”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I do.” Roarke leaned in to kiss the maple syrup from her pouty lips.
“I guess it is.” Her smile barely curved her lips and was in direct contrast to the sadness in her eyes.
He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “What is it?”
“Nothing I want to think about right now.” She put down her pen and shifted her attention to the television. Her eyes suddenly went wide as she pointed to the screen. “Isn’t that your father?”
Roarke turned toward the television, then scrambled for the remote to turn up the sound.
Sterling was dressed in a suit and wearing a Stetson. He stood outside the Perry Holdings offices, holding a briefcase and responding to questions posed by a handful of reporters. The scrolling headline at the bottom of the screen proclaimed that the fraud charges had been dropped against Perry Holdings CEO, Sterling Perry. Reporters peppered his father with questions:
“Where’s the money?”
“Who killed Vincent Hamm?”
“Dammit.” Roarke dragged a hand across his forehead. Sterling’s growing irritation with the reporters’ rapid-fire, accusatory questions was evident in his body language and the hardening of his scowl.