When I'm Gone (Rosemary Beach #11)(29)

The second my chest pressed against him, he pushed me several inches away. Kissing over.

Mase was watching me as if he wasn’t sure how to handle me. He was keeping me at arm’s length. Literally.

“I need to know what I can and can’t touch,” he said, sounding out of breath. “I know something makes you cautious and nervous. I’ve watched you closely, and I read body language well. But you’re confusing me, Reese.”

Without asking me to tell him about my past, he was letting me know that he knew something was there. Something haunted me. And he was being careful not to scare me. The little bit of my heart that I thought I still had possession of fled. Mase Manning now had it all.

“I liked what we were doing,” I told him, hoping that all the love I felt for this man wasn’t shining on my face like the bright ray of sunlight that was warming up all the things inside me that had long felt cold.

Mase smirked, then shook his head. “Yeah, I got that you liked the kissing. But getting close and pressing those sweet . . .” He trailed off as his gaze flicked to my chest, and he let out a small groan before looking back up at my face. “My hands are going to want to explore. I’ve been fantasizing about your body for a while now. I need to know where my hands can and can’t go.”

He had been fantasizing about me? Oh, my.

Where could he go? My heart wanted him everywhere, but I knew my head might not agree. The problem was, I wasn’t sure what would set me off. So far, what we were doing was nothing like the nightmare I’d lived through. It was wonderful. It helped hold back the ugly memories. I wanted more of this in hopes that it would drown out the past.

“What part of me do you want to touch?” I asked.

His eyes went back to my chest. “I’d like to start there,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

My breasts began to tingle and ache at the nipples, like they knew they were getting attention from this beautiful man and liked it. They were as shameless as I was. I nodded, and his eyelids lowered as he kept his heated gaze locked on my now heaving chest. I was having a hard time breathing, because I was that excited to feel Mase’s hands on me.

He took a step toward me, and his hooded gaze met mine again. I think I stopped breathing in that moment when his hand lifted, and I felt the warmth from his skin as he cupped his palm around my needy breast.

I inhaled sharply, and he studied me carefully. He didn’t move until I began breathing again normally. Or as normally as can be expected when your breast is being fondled by the man you’re in love with. His thumb grazed over my nipple, and I grabbed his biceps to steady myself. His eyes were locked on my chest now. With the pad of his thumb, he circled and teased my nipple, causing me to make some sounds I had never made before.

When his other hand moved toward me, I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath for fear of passing out. Just as he’d done with the other breast, he gently cupped it, then began paying close attention to the nipple. I suddenly hated the tank top I loved to sleep in. It was in the way. But the idea of Mase taking the tank top off me and actually looking at my bare breasts was as terrifying as it was exciting.

“Is this OK?” he whispered almost reverently.

“Yes,” I replied.

“I want to kiss you again while I touch you,” he said, studying my lips. “Can we lie down on your bed?”

My bed. That was more. A lot more.

But I had Mase in my bed every night. Even if it was just on the phone.

“Yes,” I told him, before I could freak out and change my mind.

His left hand slid down my stomach and hip, and then he took my hand in his. He didn’t say anything else as he led me over to the bedroom door. The lamp beside the bed was the only light in the room.

His hand left mine, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. I watched, fascinated, as he tugged off his boots and placed them on the floor, his gaze never leaving me.

“Come here,” he said, with a crook of his long finger.

At this point, the man could tell me to go jump off a bridge, and I was pretty sure I’d ask him which one.

He took both my hands and pulled me into his lap.

I had to straddle him with my knees on the bed. He tilted his mouth to fit across mine, and then all thought of nerves vanished as he kissed me again. The wonders he could accomplish with the slip of his tongue. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sank into him . . . until the hardness I remembered from my past was pressing against me. Then I froze.

Without warning, the memories came back, taunting me. I shuddered and jumped off him and backed away, afraid that he’d see the horror in my eyes. That he’d know exactly how dirty I was. I didn’t want to make him dirty. What had I been thinking? I couldn’t do this. Mase was so good and nice and kind. He didn’t know me. He thought he did. But he had no idea.

“Come back to me, Reese. Don’t you go there,” he said, his hands taking both of mine and holding me. “Look at me, baby.”

Mase

The broken, terrified expression on her face made me physically ill. I never wanted to be the reason that darkness came over her. “Please, Reese, look at me. In my eyes. Focus on me. Nothing else,” I encouraged her, as I held her hands firmly in mine while letting her maintain some space between us. My initial reaction had been to pull her tightly into my arms and hold her. But those eyes had stopped me.