She slowly reached one hand up between them and placed it on his chest, directly over his heart. She had done the same thing earlier to calm herself; it was as if he could talk to her through the beating in his chest, telling her things he couldn’t say out loud.

His heartbeat sped up under her palm and she bit her lip, slowly raising her eyes to meet his again. It was like an electric shock, bolting through her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. His eyes undid her in a way she had never experienced before.

She quivered slightly, her balance faltering as she tried to get ahold of everything that was rushing through her. She felt she had been standing and staring at him for an eternity, when really only seconds had gone by. The truth was that her entire body felt as though it was on fire, and she wanted nothing more than to rip off every clothing barricade between them.

She didn’t want to be afraid of everything anymore.

She didn’t want to be acquaintances.

She wanted him.

And it terrified her.

“Rory, I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered, as his hands moved from her hips and began pulling his jacket off her, dropping it in a puddle at her feet.

“What’s wrong?” He blinked in confusion, stepping back and frowning.

“Nothing…” She faltered, stammering, “I don’t know—uh, I’m not—you don’t want to do this with me, Rory. I’m a mess; you don’t want me.” She pushed off the door and crossed her arms over her waist, hugging herself.

“I don’t want you?” he asked, one brow raised as he stared at her. She nodded and held herself tighter.

“Damn, woman, you’re a fucking emotional roller coaster.”

Clare pouted at his exclamation, wondering if he was going to storm out now and realize that she was right.

She wasn’t worth the effort.

“Since leaving Legends, I think we have laughed, fought, kissed, argued, and everything in between.”

“I’m sorry, Rory. I’m not trying to be difficult. I just—” She frowned, and her eyes dropped to the floor. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared—it’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I just don’t think you know what you’re getting into. You won’t want this. You won’t want me.”

“Stop.” He was suddenly close to her again, his fingers under her chin, tilting it up toward him. “Don’t do that; don’t sell yourself short.” He kissed her on one corner of her lips, then moved to the other. “And don’t tell me I don’t want you.”

“Rory—” She squirmed, trying to push away the pulsing heat that had just shot through her at his kisses.

He interrupted her with his fingers on her lips, quieting her with the commanding look in his darkened eyes. His fingers moved down to her neck and shoulder, before lightly tracing their way down her arm and grabbing her hand. Her breathing hitched as his hand moved hers to the front of his pants and she felt the firm, powerful length beneath her fingertips.

“Mhuirnín, does it feel like I don’t want you?” His voice dropped further, a huskiness to it now as he pressed her hand harder against his length. She blinked at his words, opening her mouth to respond, but then saying nothing.

Sliding his free hand around her waist, he slipped it beneath her shirt and pressed it against her bare back. Her skin burned with desire and she licked her lips, unable to pull her eyes away from him. That was all the signal he needed before crushing his lips to hers.

Sagging into him, she let her hands move up his body, feeling every inch of him before settling them around his neck. He lifted her into his arms once more, his hands cupping her bottom as her legs wrapped around his waist. He carried her away from the front door and down the hallway, their lips still entangled as he let her point the way to the bedroom.

It was rough. It was passionate.

It was everything Rory Kavanagh was.

“Clare, tell me what you want,” he coaxed, sitting her on the edge of the bed as he kneeled in front of her.

She froze, blinking in confusion, and realized that no one had ever asked her that question. He was eye level with her, despite the fact that she was sitting on the edge of the bed and he was kneeling on the floor in front of her.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as his expression turned sad for a moment, before being replaced with a determination that frightened her in a good way.

“Will you let me try to find out?” His previous huskiness was replaced with softness as he swept a few stray pieces of hair behind her ear. She nodded nervously, unable to speak as she trembled in his arms.

He smiled warmly, the heat returning to his eyes as he began lifting her shirt over her head. She helped him shrug it off, leaving her before him in the lacy black bra. He kissed her again, gently, as he unhooked it behind her and pressed her tightly against him.

Her top half was now bare, the chill of the air causing her to shiver. The cold didn’t last long, though, as his mouth came down on her breast so quickly that the warmth spread straight down to her core.

She moaned and threw her head back as she focused on the sensation and surprised herself with how badly she needed to touch him back. She ran her fingers through his dark brown, wavy hair as he continued to devour her.

He pulled a nipple in between his teeth, gently biting her and causing her to jolt in surprise. Clare gasped, tensing instantly as she realized that she had actually enjoyed that. Smirking naughtily, he raised his head and pressed his mouth against hers again, slipping his tongue between her lips as she greedily kissed him back.

With his hands on either side of her chest, he gently pushed her top half down, leaving her lying on the bed with her legs over the edge against his kneeling form. His hands hooked into the waistband of her jeans and pulled them off her in one quick motion, leaving Clare completely nude except for a pair of black lace panties.

“You’re so beautiful.” He pulled his shirt over his head with one hand. Her mouth ran dry as she took in his perfectly sculpted chest and abs, before he climbed over her and found a breast with his mouth once more.

She moaned in response, squirming beneath him and surprising herself as she realized that she was pressing her hips against him, the buildup within her demanding some release.

“Patience, mhuirnín,” he teased, releasing her breast with his mouth, only to instead travel down her stomach with soft kisses, nibbling her flesh gently. She felt the bed move as he slid off and back onto his knees in front of her.

She flushed with embarrassment at being so vulnerable in front of someone, immediately trying to cover herself with her hands. He growled in protest, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to either side of her instead.

“Rory, please,” she moaned, unsure of what she wanted. She wasn’t used to being on display like this.

“Trust me, mhuirnín,” he reminded her, kissing her lower abdomen.

She nodded, gulping down nerves as she tried to slow her breathing. She couldn’t ever remember a time when her body had responded this way to someone. It was as if she couldn’t stop herself from writhing beneath his gaze or pressing her body as close to him as possible. She wanted to run and hide, yet throw herself on him, all at the same time.

Her doubts disappeared as she felt his tongue trail down to her right hip and onto her thigh, completely bypassing where she really wanted him. She panted in frustration, but he just nipped her soft skin in response. He quickly made up for it with a kiss as he trailed just enough north that his lips found the edge of her panties.

Her body froze, and she almost stopped breathing entirely as he let go of her wrists and took hold of her knees, pushing them apart. She trembled as the cold air swept over her heated core.