Rebel Heir (Rush Series Duet #1)(50)

He emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and looking down as he used another one to dry his hair. He froze when he glanced up and saw me. The heat in his eyes pushed out the nervousness that I felt. Rush had a way of making me feel beautiful and desired, without saying a single word.

I reached up and cupped my breasts, pushing them together. “I borrowed some of the oil that I found in your nightstand.”

He stared at me for long time. I got the feeling that he was trying to rein himself in. My eyes dropped to the bulge growing in his towel. It definitely wasn’t working. Unconsciously, I licked my lips, and when I looked up I saw he was watching me.

I nearly stopped breathing when he reached to the knot in his towel and it dropped to the floor.

Jesus.

It was long.

It was thick.

And it was gloriously hard.

The air in the room crackled as we stared at each other.

His voice was gruff. “Get in the center of the bed. Lie on your back.”

Once I was settled, he walked over to the edge of the bed and looked down at me as he fisted his cock. “I just came so hard in the shower imagining this.”

My entire body was on fire. I was more turned on just thinking about what I was about to experience than I’d ever been during any actual sexual act. Rush lifted a knee to climb onto the bed and then straddled me. I squeezed my breasts together in offering. Locking eyes, he dipped his hips down and guided his cock between my breasts.

His eyes closed as he steadied himself for a few seconds. Then he began to pump fast and furious. I squeezed as hard as I could as he slid his thick length in and out, over and over.

“Fuck. Fuck. Your tits feel so good. I’m gonna come all over you. The silky skin on your neck...your beautiful collarbone. I want to paint your entire body with my cum…mark it as mine.”

I swallowed. Jesus Christ. I loved the way he seemed so possessive of me, as if he couldn’t help himself and wanted to dominate my body in an almost animalistic way.

He opened his eyes and stared down. “Fuck…so beautiful. So, so perfect.”

Watching his orgasm take hold was one of the most magnificent things I’d ever witnessed. The tension in his face coiled as the muscles in his abs went rigid. With a groan of my name that was so sexy it had my own body close to its own release, he let go—exactly how he’d said he’d wanted to—all over my neck.





The protectiveness in Rush extended to after care. He cleaned me up with a warm towel, and then returned the favor by going down on me again. Unlike last time though, I didn’t pass out from exhaustion right after. While Rush had fallen asleep, I remained awake. My thoughts wandered from obsessing over getting my heart broken to fantasizing about what actual sex would be like with him. The latter led me to think about our conversation earlier and my monthly cycle, when I could start back on the pill.

Wasn’t I due for my period?

Would that ruin it for me if he wanted to have sex this week? It was at that moment in the middle of the night, lying in Rush’s bed, I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a normal cycle. Last month was so light and spotty, but I still assumed it was my period.

And now I’m late.

But how late?

Panic set in.

It couldn’t have been that much more than a month ago.

Was it?

Suddenly, I started to really panic. I normally marked down the first day of my cycle on my phone calendar. I needed to know. I needed to check my phone right now to see when the last time I had marked it down was.

Rush was still out like a light as I moved his arm off of me and slipped past him, making my way over to my purse on the floor.

Taking out my phone, I went straight to the calendar. I scrolled back through the days to check the last time I’d made a note about my period.

Passing over the last month and realizing there was no note entered, I started to feel my heart beating faster. It wasn’t until my finger stopped on the date of the last entry that I really started to freak out. The last time I had gotten a normal period was over two months ago.

It wouldn’t have been so concerning were it not for the fact that I’d had sex with a man prior to that time—my one-night stand from The Heights.





The following morning, I tried my best to remain calm for the remainder of my time with Rush. There was no sense in freaking out or jumping to conclusions without a concrete answer.

Rush dropped me off at my house and left me alone to allegedly write.

But there was no writing happening. I must have stared at the wall in my room for several hours.

My eyes wandered over to the sunset painting that Rush’s mom had given me. It was an image that once brought me so much joy but that now made me feel pure sadness, a reminder of all of the things I could be missing out on—an entire life of possibilities that might never be.

I’d be seeing Rush tonight again and didn’t know how I was going to face him unless I knew for certain. Yet, I just couldn’t get myself to go to the store and buy a pregnancy test.

How could I have put myself in a position where this was even a remote possibility? I’d done my best all my life to make sound decisions. That night with Harlan was one of the few times I had truly screwed up. I mean, I didn’t even know his last name or if his name was really Harlan. I couldn’t contact him if I wanted to. I had been feeling vulnerable and depressed about my career when I met him, and he’d provided a distraction, charmed the pants off of me—literally. But it was a huge mistake. To think that one mistake in judgment could possibly mean my ending up with a lifetime of responsibility was unfathomable.