His Horizon - Con Riley Page 0,15

I’d said to make you up and leave without talking to me, don’t you?”

It hadn’t been Rob’s fault that Jude had left London so fast; his swift departure had been circumstantial, driven by a shock that meant family had to come first. It had to. He tried to say so again, but Rob was still mid-flow, refusing to make eye contact. He covered the bread with a layer of bacon slices while asking, “Do you have any idea how many times I replayed our last conversation?”

Jude shook his head.

“Too many to count, trying to figure out where I went wrong with you.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I must have. We’d just got through the semi-finals of the contest, but I already thought I’d won the first prize because that was the day I got to kiss you.”

Jude’s mind went blank, surprised into silence.

“I got to kiss you,” Rob repeated like that was the real prize he treasured, not the cash that Jude had needed. “After months of chatting you up, I finally made my move, but then you disappeared the next day before I got to take you out on a date.”

Jude remembered how amazing it had felt to kiss Rob after wondering for so long if his flirting was a contest tactic designed to throw him, or yet another way for Rob to needle his father.

“Something I said must have come across wrong for you to leave without talking to me.” Rob suddenly stood much closer, getting in Jude’s space, threading the fingers of one hand through his. “I’d take it back if I knew, Jude. I’d clear up whatever it was that made you think I wouldn’t be willing to help you. But it’s been months and months, and I had to move on.” His grip on Jude’s hand contradicted those words. He pressed his forehead to Jude’s for a split second before he pulled back to say, “So if you’re still set on telling me to piss off, this time I want a proper goodbye from you first.” His lips almost brushed Jude’s, as soft as he remembered. “Can I?” he asked. “Please?”

Jude nodded. The press of Rob’s lips was tentative, at first, but still sent sparks that quickly heated as Rob shifted his grip, releasing Jude’s hand to wrap both arms around him, fingers sliding through the hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned. Jude parted his lips, their kiss deepening, both holding on for dear life, and both giving and taking.

How many times had Jude recalled their one kiss while scanning distant horizons, never believing for a moment that Rob might have been doing the same back in Britain?

How often had he wished they’d kissed much sooner just so he could have had more to remember about the way Rob’s touch lit him?

So what if what they’d been on the verge of starting only lasted for as long as the contest? Jude had already guessed he’d be dropped as soon as it was over. After all, Rob moved in a different social circle; the heir to London’s restaurant royalty dating someone at the lowest rung of the restaurant ladder seemed unlikely, long-term. Besides, Jude could never have brought Rob home to Porthperrin.

Yet here he was in a kitchen that bore no relation to the one Jude had learned to cook in.

Here he was, kissing Jude as though he never wanted to stop, only pulling back to drag in a deep breath.

Rob cupped Jude’s face, drawing him in for another kiss before changing his mind and pushing him against the workbench, his hands just below Jude’s arse as he hefted him onto its surface. He stood between Jude’s spread legs, hands roaming from his thighs to Jude’s chest before dropping to tug at the hem of Jude’s shirt. He slid a hand under the fabric, mapping skin that soaked up his touch like a sponge would water. Rob kissed Jude like he was drowning, desperate as if Jude was the air he needed. He groaned and clutched hard, pulling Jude to the edge of the worktop, hips pressed against where Jude’s legs parted.

Finally, Jude got to slide his hands into hair that was just as silky as he remembered. Rob pulled away, his chest heaving, and it slipped through his fingers.

“That’s how I would have done it,” Rob said, his voice gritty. He leaned in one more time, stubble a soft prickle as his lips brushed Jude’s jawline. His breath was so warm across Jude’s