Rush Too Far (Rosemary Beach #4)(24)

“Does it hurt?” she asked in a whisper, still inching closer to me. What the hell? She was gonna get a real personal view of it when I licked her damn neck if she didn’t back up.

“No,” I replied, keeping my tongue in my mouth for fear that she was going to actually touch it and make me lose my mind.

“What are the tattoos on your back?” she asked me, moving back some. Her smell still clung to me. I was inhaling more frequently than necessary just to get her scent inside of me. It was pathetic. Focus on something else. Answer her damn questions, and stop thinking about her skin. And her taste. Tattoos . . . she wants to know about my tattoos.

“An eagle on my lower back with his wings spread and the emblem for Slacker Demon. When I was seventeen, my dad took me to a concert in L.A., and afterward he took me to get my first tat. He wanted his band branded on my body. Every member of Slacker Demon has one in the exact same place. Right behind the left shoulder. Dad was high as a kite that night, but it is still a really good memory. I didn’t get a chance to spend a lot of time with him growing up. But every time I saw him, he added another tat or piercing to my body,” I explained.

Her eyes instantly went to my chest. Fuck, she was wondering about my ni**les. Cold shower. I was going to need a very long cold shower. Or maybe hot, with some damn baby oil and my fist. God knows her smell and the view I had down her shirt were enough to send me over the edge.

“No piercings there, sweet Blaire. The others are in my ears. I put a halt to the piercings and tats when I turned nineteen,” I assured her. She needed to take her eyes off my damn chest. Now.

She looked unhappy or worried. What had I said? Fuck, I hadn’t verbalized my shower plans, had I?

“What did I say to make you frown?” I asked, touching her chin to tilt her eyes up so I could see them.

“When you kissed me last night, I didn’t feel the silver barbell thingy.” That was what was making her frown? She was going to kill me. I couldn’t take much more of this.

“Because I wasn’t wearing it,” I said, moving closer to her. Her scent was pulling me in.

“When you, uh, kiss someone with it in, can she feel it?”

Holy f**king hell. Showing Little Miss Curious was so tempting. She wanted to experience it, and I sure wanted to show her. “Blaire, tell me to leave. Please,” I begged. It was the only way to keep from kissing her. “You would feel it. Everywhere I want to kiss you, you would feel it. And you would enjoy it,” I whispered in her ear, then pressed a kiss to her shoulder and inhaled her deeply. Fuck, that was good.

“Are you . . . are you going to kiss me again?” she asked, as I ran my nose up her neck, soaking in her scent. Damn smell was intoxicating.

“I want to. I want to so f**king bad, but I’m trying to be good,” I admitted.

“Could you not be good for just one kiss? Please?” she asked, moving closer to me. Her legs pressed up against mine. One more inch, and she’d be in my lap.

“Sweet Blaire, so incredibly sweet.” I was losing it. My lips were touching every smooth inch of skin they could as I fought with myself not to touch her. She was innocent. She was too good for me. This was wrong.

I tasted her skin with the tip of my tongue, and my c**k throbbed. She was delicious. Everything about her. I kissed a trail up her neck, and when I reached her lips, I stopped. I wanted them. I wanted her. More. Always more. But she was my . . . friend. I had caused her pain, and she didn’t even know it. I had to stop this.

“Blaire, I’m not a romantic guy. I don’t kiss and cuddle. It’s all about the sex for me. You deserve someone who kisses and cuddles. Not me. I just f**k, baby. You aren’t meant for someone like me. I’ve never denied myself something I want. But you’re too sweet. This time, I have to tell myself no,” I said, more to myself than to her. I needed to remind myself just how out of my league she was.

She whimpered, and I jumped up, moving to the door. I wouldn’t do this to her. I couldn’t.

“I can’t talk anymore. Not tonight. Not alone in here with you,” I said, and left before I lost myself with her. I could never have Blaire.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I stalked past the few people in the kitchen and headed for the front door. I needed to go outside and calm down. Fresh air with no one around to see me lose my shit. Telling Blaire no had just about killed me. Turning down those sweet, willing lips . . . Holy hell, no man should be put through this torture.

“Want to talk about it?” Grant asked, as the door behind me closed.

“I need to be alone,” I told him. I gripped the porch railing and kept my eyes focused on the driveway full of cars.

“You aren’t gonna be able to keep this up. She’s under your skin now,” Grant said, coming to stand beside me. I should have known he’d ignore my request for him to leave me to my thoughts.

“I won’t hurt her,” I told him.

Grant sighed and turned to lean against the railing and face me while crossing his hands over his chest. “As sweet as Blaire is, I’m not worried about her. I’m more worried about you,” he said.

“I got this.”

“No. You don’t. You’re keeping your hands off her when it’s obvious to anyone who sees her look at you that she would let you touch her any way you wanted to. But you’re not touching her. I’ve never—and I mean f**king never—seen you turn that down from someone who looks like Blaire. Which means . . . you’ve got feelings for her. That’s why I’m worried about you. She’s gonna find out about her dad and about Nan, and when she does, she’ll run like hell. She’ll hate all of you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”