Damn, did Ruckus know how to snore.
Raking her hands through her hair, RG watched the security surveillance expert’s chest rise and fall as the buzzing sound tore from the back of his throat.
Deciding it was now or never, she reached over and pinched his nostrils shut.
A split second of silence filled her bedroom, followed by a grunting cough as Ruckus spluttered awake.
RG grinned at him, resting her elbows on her bent knees. “Time for you to fuck off, Ruckus.”
He squinted at her, scratched his belly, yawned, and then sat up. “Okay.” He swung his long, lean legs over the side of the bed and straightened.
She made a half-hearted attempt to not check out the sublime perfection of his naked arse as he plodded away from the bed towards the bathroom.
He really was the hottest fucking bastard she’d ever laid eyes on. Unorthodox, a little wild, more than a little crazy, a tad enigmatic (okay, tad was an understatement), ridiculously intelligent, and partial to scary-looking tattoos inked into his smooth brown flesh with exquisite skill by his equally enigmatic cousin, Lincoln.
Everything she wanted in a guy, really.
He disappeared into her bathroom. A few seconds later came the sound of him evacuating his bladder.
RG rolled her eyes. “Y’know, you could close the door when you do that.”
He didn’t answer. Not straight away. In fact, it was a few minutes after the sound of the loo flushing and the bathroom tap running that he poked his head around the bathroom door and looked at her, a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, white foam slicking his lips.
“Y’know,” he pulled the toothbrush free of his mouth and pointed it at her like a finger, “the only reason you’re kicking me out is because you’ve just realized you’ve fallen in love with me and it’s scaring the shit out of you.”
He shoved the toothbrush back into his mouth, gave her a look she had no hope of interpreting, and disappeared back into the bathroom.
She blinked again.
In her chest, her heart began an attempt to mimic a semi-automatic machine gun with the trigger duct-taped to the “pulled” position.
Her? In love? With Ruckus?
Ruckus? She’d only known him for a few months, six at the most. She didn’t even know his last name. Sure, she’d been sleeping with him for the last two months, and whoa baby, how incredible was that? But still? How could she possibly be in love with him?
Because he’s unorthodox, a little wild, more than a little crazy, a tad enigmatic, ridiculously intelligent, and partial to scary-looking tattoos?
True. All true. Plus he was the most incredible lover she’d ever had. And he cooked Thai food better than any Thai restaurant she’d eaten in. Both here in Australia and in Thailand.
And she’d broken her One-and-Done rule with him. That said a lot.
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