Rebel (Renegades #2)(34)
Author: Skye Jordan

Damn right she was scared. She couldn’t think when he was close. He had a way of getting under her skin and making her believe. Making her hope. And belief and hope had always ended in pain.

Rubi needed to break this damn spell he cast over her every time they were close.

She called in reinforcements. “Rodie,” she said, still looking at Wes. “Kiss, kiss.”

Rodie, who’d been lying beside the sofa, jumped to his feet, tail swinging, and planted his paws on the cushion. He went for Wes first—probably because Rubi was usually lying in that position when she set her computer aside and asked Rodie for kisses. His tongue rolled out and stroked Wes’s cheek, his nose, his lips.

“Oh shit.” Wes turned his head away, wiping his mouth with a grimace and laughing a groan as he released Rubi to fend off Rodie. “No. Down, Rodie. Stop!”

As soon as Rubi climbed off Wes, Rodie jumped up, and Wes’s laugh rolled from his chest as he tried to hold the seventy-pound dog away from his lower body.

With his arms wrapped around Rodie, and Rodie still licking his face in thrilled frenzy, he pinned Rubi with a hot gaze. “You coward, using your dog like that. You should be ashamed.”

She pushed the hair that had fallen from her ponytail off her face. “I like to think of it as smart, not cowardly.”

“Pffft. Whatever.” Wes pulled at the Velcro to take the rig off, while her gaze scanned that luscious body and she imagined him wrapped around her.

“Hey.” His exclamation pulled her gaze up. He reached over and picked up the spoon off the ice cream carton’s lid. “That’s why you taste like chocolate. And eating straight from the carton, weren’t you? Just admit it, Russo.”

“So what?”

“So did you at least save some for me?”

She waved toward the kitchen. “Go ahead, take the rest home. You’ll be saving me from myself.”

He grinned, the sparkle back in his eyes. “If I can’t have you, ice cream is the next best thing.”

He jumped off the couch and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Rubi shaking her head and smiling more than she had in months. She really had to get rid of him before she, he, they did what they both really wanted.

“I should have known you’d have some froufrou shit,” he said from the kitchen around a mouthful. “Still, ice cream is ice cream, right?”

She rubbed both hands over her face before the comment registered, and she swung around on a gasp. “Wes, wait—”

She ran into the kitchen, took one look at Wes, and put her hand over her mouth. He had his back against the closed subzero stainless steel, a carton in one hand, a spoon in the other. He glanced up as she came in, licking the spoon, then dipping into the carton and pulling another pink mound from the container.

Rubi burst out laughing. She laughed so hard she doubled over, using the counter to hold herself up. She laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe when he wanted to know what the hell was so f**king funny. She laughed so hard tears streamed down her face.

Wes chuckled at her with a perplexed look as he brought the spoon to his mouth again.

Rubi lunged, her hand reaching for him, laughing, “No!” She couldn’t reach him across the wide island, but his hand froze on the way to his mouth. “Stop,” she said breathless. “Don’t eat…any more…”

And she collapsed on the counter in hysterics. And because she still couldn’t speak, made her way around the island to turn the carton in his hand so he could read the label.

“Doggie…what?” Wes slammed the carton on the counter with a, “You’ve got to be f**king kidding me,” and turned to the sink.

With the tap running, he shoveled handfuls of water into his mouth and spit it out. He was grinning, a disgusted, ironic grin that was impossibly adorable and stretched Rubi’s heart so wide it hurt. By the time he hit the water controls to turn them off, Rubi was panting, leaning against the refrigerator, arms crossed over her belly. She couldn’t speak past burning abdomen muscles.

“Dog ice cream?” Wes braced a forearm on the counter, one on the handle of the faucet. “I didn’t even know such a thing existed.”

“Lactose makes…dogs sick, and Rodie…loves…ice cream.” Her answer made him shoot her a you’re-going-to-pay-for-that look. She held up a hand and started laughing again. “You’re the one…who didn’t read…”

He spun toward her with hot eyes that burned through her body. With a hand planted against the fridge near her shoulder, he pulled the freezer door open and grabbed the other carton of ice cream. He read the front, closed the door, and wrapped an arm around Rubi’s waist, sliding her body free of the refrigerator door and trapping her against him. He yanked the other door open with the same hand holding the chocolate carton.

“I knew it.” He pulled something from the door, then slammed it closed. “You were seriously holding out on me.”

“What?”

He lifted his hand, holding both the uncapped ice cream carton and a can of whipped cream.

She grabbed for the can. “Hey, that’s for my coffee.”

“It’s for my ice cream now. You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you. You’re the one that ate the dog—”

He leaned in and kissed her. She made a surprised sound in her throat. His mouth was hard, his lips plush. He pushed his tongue deep, and as soon as it touched hers, Rubi went limp. This wasn’t the sweet, slow kiss in the living room. This was forceful, breathless, toe-tingling.

He lifted her by the waist and set her ass on the cool granite countertop. Rubi gasped and grabbed his shoulders as the force of the kiss pushed her backward.

The pop of a top sounded, and he broke the kiss. Keeping a tight hold on her waist, he leaned away, tipped his head back, and sprayed whipped cream into his open mouth until it overflowed.

“Don’t. That’s mine.” She grabbed for the can, but he pulled it away. “I can’t drink my coffee—”

He grinned. The whipped cream expanded in his mouth, drifting through his teeth, covering his lips and dripping down his chin.

Rubi burst out laughing again. Her stomach muscles burned, and she sagged against him. “You look…like you’re…foaming at the mouth.”

She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. The aerosol squirt sounded again. Cold streaked down her neck, and Rubi jumped. Wes pulled her thighs apart and hauled her to the edge of the counter to meet his hips, then followed the trail of whipped cream with his mouth.