Love Him Free (On the Market #1) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,25

Rocco’s face. ‘Pizza?’

With a hearty laugh, Rocco tugged Simon away from the door, and he didn’t let go. Instead, he slung an arm around his waist, and Simon’s entire body went hot—on the knife’s edge of orgasm. It was only his sheer panic that kept it at bay, but Simon knew it would be a fucking miracle if he didn’t come in his pants before the night was out.

As they moved into the living room, James marched away from the sofa and right into Rocco’s arms, and the familiar, soft feeling of watching that big man cuddle the small dog was back. Simon’s flush hovered around the base of his neck, making it hard to talk, though he supposed that didn’t matter at all. But it was wholly distracting and probably going to be the death of him if he couldn’t get himself under control.

Rocco was sweet, and he said he liked Simon, but…

Simon couldn’t let himself think like that. Rocco’s life was so much more than Simon’s. It was bigger, and chaotic, and beautiful, and free in a way Simon couldn’t begin to understand. Simon didn’t envy what Rocco did, but he envied the way life seemed to pour off him, even in times of heartbreak.

He took a deep breath, then grabbed his phone. When he looked over, he found Rocco on the sofa, legs up on the table, with James against his side. His other hand was twisted at an angle so he could get to cat Rocco’s chin, and Simon had an unwilling, unwanted flash of the future. Of Rocco being here as a partner—as more than just a fly-by-night guest who left town on a whim.

Stop, he ordered himself. He bit his lip, then waved his hand until Rocco looked over. ‘What do you like on your pizza?’

‘Whatever,’ Rocco signed lazily. He grinned and then winked, and when Simon flushed, Rocco looked triumphant.

He knew what he was doing, Simon realized, and it didn’t make sense. Simon had seen what Rocco’s ex looked like, and Simon did not measure up. He was round and soft, on the chubby side. Eric had been cut from marble with a million-dollar smile and baby blues that someone could get lost in for days.

His hands shook harder as he fumbled with his phone. “Hi, I need…” Simon struggled with the words and closed his eyes. “I need pizza for delivery.”

Eventually, he got his shit together enough to order cheese, olives, and peppers, then set his card out before taking hesitant steps toward the sofa. He was still painfully hard, but it was mostly confined to his jeans, behind his baggy shirt. It made walking with any grace impossible though, and he flopped down with the dog between them, and he reached out tentative fingers.

James didn’t hesitate to nuzzle in, to absorb every ounce of affection, and Simon heard Rocco scoff. “He acts like no one loves him.”

Simon lifted his eyes. ‘I can tell he is very spoiled.’

Rocco’s laugh was deep and genuine, and he shook his head with a grin so wide, his ears lifted with it. ‘So is your cat. What’s his name?’

And so came the moment. Simon licked his lips. ‘I don’t want to tell you.’

Rocco’s eyebrows went higher. ‘Why?’

Simon glanced away for a second, steeling himself. ‘My brother got him for me. Our friend has a cat shelter in town. They have a little farm with cats, goats, ducks…’

Rocco’s eyes were soft and attentive, and he nodded for Simon to go on.

‘He couldn’t keep them all, so Levi brought him home for me,’ he pointed at Rocco who was primly grooming his paw.

Rocco reached over and gave the cat another scratch. ‘Go on,’ he signed when his hands settled back in front of him.

Simon’s cheeks burned. ‘He was already named when Levi gave him to me.’ His fingers trembled. ‘R-O-C-C-O.’

Rocco blinked, then threw his head back and startled both dog and cat with his booming laugh. ‘Because of me?’

‘No,’ Simon hurriedly signed, then dropped his hands and shrugged. ‘Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I thought it was a coincidence, but he probably knows how much I…’ He forced his hands to still.

Rocco leaned in. ‘How much you what?’

Simon wanted to look away, wanted desperately to be anywhere else not having this conversation with the object of his obsession. ‘Enjoy you.’

Rocco’s tongue darted over his lower lip. ‘You enjoy me?’

‘As much as you seem to enjoy tormenting me,’ Simon said. He had to spell tormenting—he had no idea if