Page 59 of Gold Rush

Fuck. No. Not thinking about that, especially while she’s wearing this damn dress.

“You need a lawyer?”

My smile is immediate. “No. But I’ll file an injunction, if I have to.”

Her lips lift into a reluctant, genuine smile. “Excuse me,” she says, speaking to the audience I’ve forgotten about.

I grab her hand and head straight toward the bathroom I spotted while coming up the stairs. I don’t have to feign the urgency in my impatient strides.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

She follows me down the hall and into one of the bathrooms even though I don’t answer.

I shut and lock the door behind us. “Mess up your hair.”

Rather than comply, Rory crosses her arms across her chest. Her tits were already on display; now they’re practically spilling out. “This is ridiculous, Flynn. No one is going to think we snuck in here to have sex.”

Everyone is going to think that.

It’s exactly what I would have suggested if we were dating, assuming we actually made it here in the first place. It was easier to file certain thoughts about Rory under the category of Never Going to Happen back before we were pretending they were happening.

“Me by the pool and you in here with another guy is not going to sell this. Drastic measures need to be taken.”

The plan. That’s what I need to focus on. Not what Rhody said or how close Knox was standing to her.

“What guy?”

“Take him off the list, Rory. Knox already saw us together, so him flirting with you tonight is a dick move.”

She laughs. “Flirting? We were talking, and there were, like, ten other⁠—”

Rory stops talking when I take a step closer, fully invading her personal space.

“You okay with more kissing?” I ask impulsively.

Swollen lips and a lack of lipstick are more incriminating than messy hair. But mostly, I just want to kiss her again.

“More, uh … okay.” Her pupils are dilated as she watches me place a palm on the door behind her head.

She’s reacting to the situation, not only me. But there’s something special about watching Rory’s chest rise with a rapid inhale as our proximity registers. About seeing her tongue swipe across her lower lip. About witnessing her be unsure and a little unbalanced when she’s normally poised and polished and—around me—dismissive.

This has nothing to do with my father’s ultimatum or the future foundation. I’m owed my inheritance as soon as I announce my engagement. Julian won’t hear—or care—about me fucking my future fiancée at a party. I want Carson Albright to hear from all his friends how I couldn’t keep my hands off her. I want Knox Wellington and every other guy who’s been checking Rory out tonight to realize they missed their chance with her.

Rory hasn’t said anything since she gave permission for me to kiss her. But her breathing sounds rapid, inhales and exhales echoing off the white marble and porcelain surrounding us. All I can see is blonde hair and pink lips and a black dress.

“It’d take me a minute to get a condom on,” I explain, holding her gaze.

Her throat contracts with another swallow. “I doubt it takes this long. You’ve had plenty of practice.”

“Yeah, but it’s been a while.”

I’m not sure why I said that. I guess I want Rory to know that I’ve honored her request I be discreet and skip shenanigans. That I’m capable of taking things—this—seriously.

“No one’s supposed to think it’s been a while. You pulled me in here because we can’t stop fucking, remember?”

This is a really shitty time for Rory to start swearing. Especially when she’s using the verb in reference to us. I’m getting hard.

“I remember.” I tilt her chin up, tracing the line of her jaw with my thumb. Fight fire with fire. “Are you normally loud?”