Page 320 of Rogue Riders Duet

Not bad weird, just different. In the past, I’ve always been the one doing the holding. Arm around someone else. But being the one held, leaning into someone instead, feels backward.

He gives me a little pout, and I can’t fucking resist it, so I crawl onto the bed and tuck myself into his side. His arm wraps around my shoulders like it was made for this, and after the first few seconds, it stops feeling weird and starts feeling good.

Really-fucking-good.

Luc’s hand trails lazily along my bicep as he asks, “What kind of film do you want to watch?”

“Anything’s fine,” I mumble, already too comfortable to care.

He clicks through the hotel streaming menu, then hits play on Legally Blonde.

I snort. “Seriously?”

“What? I like pink shit.” I roll my eyes, but my mouth twitches. “You wanna order something?” he asks, already reaching for the room service menu. “Maybe fries and a burger?”

I nod, even though the idea of moving right now feels criminal. The way his warm body molds to mine has my muscles forgetting what tension even is.

“You very hungry?” I ask. “Or can we wait a little longer?”

Luc pauses, then tips my chin up gently with his fingers, making me meet his eyes. “No, I can wait. You okay?”

I nod, my throat a little tight. “Yeah.”

He smiles and kisses me again. His mouth tastes like mint, comfort, and something that settles me in a way I didn’t know I needed.

Luc’s hand drifts over my chest, gliding across bare skin. Goose bumps bloom in his wake, and I shiver, leaning closer, because I fucking missed this. His mouth on mine, all warm lips and breath and that teasing stroke of tongue that always makes my stomach drop. His fingers slide over skin and muscle, drawing circles with barely-there pressure. I breathe in deep and press closer, feeling him hum against my mouth.

His fingers dip lower, tracing the line of my ribs, the dip of my waist, and when I shift, slotting a thigh between his legs, his breath hitches.

Luc is already half-hard.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes bright and dark all at once. “This okay?”

“That’s my line,” I rasp. “Yes, it’s okay. Is it for you too?”

“More than okay.” He grins and kisses me again, harder now, all teeth, tongue, and hunger. I match him, sliding a hand down his side to grip his hip before tugging him closer. His legs wrap around my waist, and I grunt at how well our bodies fit together like this, him under me, breathing fast.

His shirt rides up as we move, exposing a sliver of his stomach, and I push it higher so I can touch more of him. His skin is warm, smooth, addictive.

Luc lets out a soft moan, hips lifting into mine, and yeah, I’m hard now too.

His hair is a mess, cheeks are flushed, and his mouth is kiss-swollen.

He’s fucking beautiful.

I tug at his shorts, and he wiggles them off with my help. I can barely breathe as his cock springs free, already slick at the tip.

Fucking hell.

My pulse pounds in my throat, and my mouth waters, but then he tugs his shirt down, like he’s trying to hide the mess he’s made of himself, and I know it’s not modesty but nerves.

He’s nervous, and goddamn if that doesn’t go straight to my chest. Last time, he came so fast it shocked us both, and he’s probably still thinking about that.

I let my eyes flick down and back up. “What’s with that?”

“You make me feel shy,” Luc mutters, fingers curled tight in the hem of his shirt, which is still stretched to cover his cock.

“Luc-fucking-Delacroix shy for me?” I huff a soft laugh before pecking his lips once. “Fuck, that’s sexy.”