Page 24 of Reluctant to Love

“Take all the time you need.” And that’s when I notice the deck of cards in her hand.Hmm. I guess she did consult higher powers anyway.

In the elevator, I pull out my phone and notice Roderick has texted his hotel information. When I plug the information into the maps app on my phone, I realize he’s incredibly close. As in, right across the street. It’s early spring and there’s still a chill in the air so I tighten up my sweater and hurry toward the hotel.

I’m not an impulsive person by any means. Most of the time, when I do anything remotely reckless, I instantly regret it. And standing in front of Roderick’s hotel room is about as spontaneous as I’ve gotten recently.

There’s no hesitation when I raise my hand to knock on the door and when he opens it, his green eyes wide with surprise, I rush forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and planting a firm, searing kiss on his lips.

To my relief, Roderick reciprocates. His arms hold onto me tightly as he drags me inside and the door closes quickly behind us. We don’t even leave the small entryway. He presses me against the back of the door, holding me steady as he takes charge. He deepens the kiss, exploring my mouth with his tongue while his hands skim my sides.

For once, listening to my heart feels like the right decision.

I whimper when Roderick breaks our kiss and pulls away. “What are you doing here,” he asks breathlessly.

“Guilty conscience,” I joke.

“Is Izzy okay?”

“She’s fine.” I push him away slightly and step into the room.

It really is just one step up from the bare necessities.

“There’s a lot that needs to be healed between us, Roderick. It’s not going to be easy.” I sit down on the edge of the king-sized bed and look up at him. I feel like I’m cutting myself open, exposing my sins and my secrets to him. “But Izzy needs you.”

He shoves his hands deep into his pockets. His long auburn hair is tied back loosely, and a few pieces swing in front of his face. He walks toward me slowly, his eyes dark pools of desire. “And what about you?” His voice is low and sends shivers up and down my spine. He stops right in front of me and looks down. “What do you need?”

My hands shake as they reach up to grasp his black leather belt. I look up at him and bite down on my lower lip, letting is release slowly. “I need you too.”

He covers my hand with his; it’s so much larger than mine. I can’t believe I’ve never noticed that before. In fact, everything about him seems larger than life including the definite bulge staring me right in the face.

“Are you sure?” His question is my way out; my last chance to escape but my mind is made up.

There hasn’t been another man in my bed since him and there never will be. He’s been the only man in my heart. For whatever reason, fate has given us a second chance and I’d be a fool to pass it up.

I let my hand fall away and I scoot back on the bed. “I need you,” I repeat.

There is a flash of something unfamiliar in his eyes. Normally, he is so sure and confident; rarely does he second guess himself but the man hesitating in front of me is vulnerable. It’s a moment of raw honesty and it cracks my heart wide open.

This brief glimpse of weakness is gone in a flash, replaced by the self-assured, passionate man I fell in love with.

His hands quickly unbutton his jeans and he shoves them down his thighs before kicking them away. His nostrils flare slightly before he presses one knee to the bed and lowers himself over top of me.

His nose traces the curve up my shoulder and the length of my neck before he presses a kiss to my jaw. I sigh with pleasure. This feels more like a homecoming than a reunion. I was always meant to be with him and after a long four years, I’m back where I belong.

“Touch me,” I plead. I’m dying to have his hands on me, to feel the brush of his fingers against my skin.

His fingers dive under my t-shirt and skim across my belly. Every place he touches seems to ignite with a white-hot heat. He sits up and glances down. His hands push my shirt up and he lowers his head to place a kiss just under my belly button. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of my black leggings and tugs them down.

He sucks in a sharp breath as he studies the faint scar on my pelvis. In the dim light of the hotel room, I’m not quite sure how he can see it, but his lips tell me he knows it’s there.

There is still so much we have to talk about, still so much we need to figure out, but it can all wait.