The Mighty Quinns: Rourke. Kate Hoffmann
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“Interested in kissing you again? The answer to that would be yes. I’m very interested.”
“I think we should try it again,” Annie said.
“Now? Because, I think now would be as good a time as any.”
“All right,” she said. They stared at each other across the table. “Are you going to come to me or am I going to come to you?”
“I think you should come to me,” Rourke suggested.
Annie wiped her damp hands on a dish towel, then slowly stood. As she circled the table, her heart began to race and she felt as if her knees would buckle. When she stood in front of him, she reached out to smooth her hand through his thick, dark hair. But he caught her fingers and opened her hand, pressing his lips to the center of her palm.
She watched as he slipped his hands around her waist and gently drew her closer. Nuzzling his face against her belly, Rourke drew a long, deep breath. When he looked up at her again, Annie could see that they weren’t going to stop at just one kiss.
Furrowing her fingers through his hair, she tipped his face up. Slowly, she sank down until their mouths were nearly touching. His breath was warm on her lips, but she waited, resisting the urge to surrender. But Rourke wasn’t nearly so determined. With a low moan, he yanked her into a kiss, pulling her into his lap at the same time.
The depth of his passion startled her at first. It felt as if they’d skipped a few steps along the way. But Annie wasn’t going to fight him. This was exactly what she was hoping would happen. They had the whole night ahead of them and this was a promising beginning to it all.
His kiss was determined, almost desperate, searching for the perfect melding of their mouths. His fingers twisted through the hair at her nape and when he finally drew back, his breath came in short gasps. He moved to kiss her again, but Kit suddenly jumped up from his spot next to the fire and began to bark at the door.
A few moments later, a knock sounded. Annie glanced down at him. “Are you expecting company?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” she said. She ran her fingers through her hair as she walked to the door. When she pulled it open, a gust of wind nearly tore it from her hands. A tall, slender figure stepped inside and when he pushed his hood away from his face, she recognized Sam Decker. He was still dressed in his uniform from his job as a regional police officer and Annie wasn’t sure if the visit was personal or professional.
Sam quickly took his cap off and smiled at her. “Hey, it’s getting nasty out there.”
“Hi, Sam,” she murmured.
He started to shrug out of his jacket before he noticed Rourke sitting across the room. He frowned, then glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Quinn. I heard you were on your way off the island.” He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”
“I just stopped by to check on Annie,” Rourke said. “What about you?”
“Same. I just wanted to check...to make sure she had enough wood to get her through the storm.”
“You brought wood just last week,” Annie interrupted.
“We’re fine here,” Rourke said. “We have everything we need, right, Annie?”
“I didn’t realize you two were...friends,” Sam said.
Annie nodded. “We’ve known each other since we were kids,” she said.
Sam shrugged. “Is your cell phone charged?”
Annie nodded and took his arm, leading him back to the door. “If I need any help, I’ll be sure to call.”
Sam nodded reluctantly. “All right, then. I’m on duty tonight and my advice is to stay inside. If there’s trouble, dial 911.”
She opened the door and let him out, then closed it behind her, leaning against the scarred wood. Rourke slowly stood and crossed the room. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Are you sure you wanted him to leave?” he murmured, leaning close.
“Yes,” Annie replied, her pulse quickening. She’d done this before, but it had never felt quite so dangerous. There were feelings here, emotions that she couldn’t quite describe. She felt vulnerable and out of control, but Annie couldn’t seem to stop herself from wanting him.
“When was the last time you kissed him?” Rourke murmured.
“Who?”
“Sam Decker.”
“I’ve never kissed Sam,” she said.
“He wants to kiss you,” Rourke said. “It’s written all over his face.”
“He has too many expectations.”
“Expectations?”
“He thinks he wants to take care of me. He wants to marry me. But I’m not looking for anything like that.”
“You just like having sex with strangers?”
“Not strangers. I prefer...uncomplicated men.”
“Is that what I am, Annie?”
“You were on your way home. And I expect you will be again once the storm passes. That makes things between us very simple.”
“So you’re just using me for sex?”
Annie laughed. “That’s putting it rather bluntly.”
“I think we ought to be clear about our intentions, don’t you?”
It sounded as if the notion of no-strings sex was insulting to him. But then, maybe he was just teasing her. Or maybe he wanted to be sure of her motives. “No expectations,” she said.
“All right. But if you expect me to jump into bed with you, you could at least give me dinner first.”
Annie smiled. “All right. I do have a bottle of wine we could share.” She moved to a cabinet near the sink and pulled a bottle of Merlot out. When she found the corkscrew, she opened the wine and poured it into two mismatched jelly jars. “I don’t have proper wineglasses. These are recycled.”
He raised the jelly glass. “To the storm that brought us together,” he said.
Annie touched her glass to his. “The storm.”
As she sipped her wine and cut vegetables for the lentil stew, Annie listened to the wind howl outside and the shutters rattle. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. In her mind she was already undressing him and pulling his naked body onto the bed with her. She couldn’t remember ever wanting a man as much as she wanted him.
They’d have one night together. But would