Rush Too Far (Rosemary Beach #4)(33)

Ah, hell, I was gonna look. I had started to turn around when a blonde walked over to me and sat down on the table in front of me. “You so don’t fit in here,” she said, with a Southern drawl that was thicker than usual.

I glanced back at Blaire. She was smiling up at some guy with curls. Fuck. She was happy, though. He wasn’t touching her. She looked like she was enjoying herself. I had to let her do this. If I didn’t need to drive them home, I would get drunk. It would make this much easier to deal with.

“She yours?” the girl asked, sliding her leg over to dangle beside me.

I turned back to her. “No. She’s . . . we’re friends,” I explained.

The blonde leaned forward, presenting me with a view of her large and very bought-and-paid-for tits.

I was an equal-opportunity kind of guy, so I had no problem with that. Nice tits were nice tits. Hers were nice. I just wasn’t interested. I had Blaire to watch out for.

“She’s crazy to run off with someone like him when she has someone who looks like you sitting here waiting on her,” the girl said, moving her leg closer to me.

I looked back at Blaire, who was talking to the other guy now. Bethy was with the one with the curly hair. Blaire seemed fine. I had to stop watching her. “She’s, uh, never been to a bar before. She’s exploring things,” I said, turning my attention back to the blonde.

The blonde moved her leg up to set her heeled foot on the seat beside me. I glanced down to see a direct view up her skirt. Red panties. Nice.

I slid a finger down her thigh before moving her skirt over so she wasn’t flashing me right here where the whole damn bar could see . . . or where Blaire could see.

“Might want to close those,” I said, with a smile to ease the rejection.

She laughed and moved to stand up and slide in beside me. “Maybe if I sit here, then you can’t keep focusing on your friend, who seems to be enjoying herself just fine. And if I open my legs, no one but you and I can see,” she said, leaning toward me so her tits were on display again.

If I could actually get up the desire to play with those toys she was intent on flashing at me, then I might not be so wound up. But not being able to see Blaire was pissing me off. “Look, you’re hot. No doubt. But I’m here to keep my friend safe. It’s about her,” I explained, as my eyes found Blaire walking toward the dance floor with the guy she’d been talking to. His hand was on her back now. Not mine. Jealousy was painful, and I’d never experienced it before. But damn, when it takes hold of you, then you feel it. You f**king know what it is.

“See, she’s dancing. Not at all worried about you,” the blonde said, pressing closer to me and sliding her hand up my leg.

I reached down and grabbed it before she slid it over my cock. Even if I didn’t want to f**k her, my damn c**k would react to the attention and give her the wrong idea. I put her hand back in her own lap.

“She has you in all kinds of knots, doesn’t she? Damn.” The woman looked over at Blaire and shrugged. “Guess that young, fresh thing does it for men. It grows old, though. She won’t always be so sweet and new.”

She had this all wrong. Most women like her did. They didn’t understand that a man could want someone for more than just her looks. That it wasn’t always sex that drew them in. That sometimes it was more. More . . .

“I can make you forget she exists,” the blonde said, moving her mouth to mine.

“Whoa.” I grabbed her head to stop her. I didn’t kiss. Not mouths I knew had been on too many cocks to count. “Not going there, sugar. Sorry, but you’re right. She has me all kinds of wrapped up. She might not want me that way, but she has my complete attention. No one else is gonna compare.”

The woman stuck out her bottom lip in a pout that looked ridiculous, then ran her leg up my side. She wasn’t giving up easily. “One kiss. Just one really good kiss,” she said, leaning into me again.

I had to hold her body back forcefully this time. “I don’t kiss mouths that I know have sucked a c**k that isn’t mine,” I said bluntly, knowing it would stop her.

She froze, and her eyebrows shot up. “You mean you only do virgins?” she asked, incredulous.

I laughed and shook my head. “No. I mean I don’t kiss. I f**k, but I don’t kiss,” I clarified.

She leaned back and looked at me. “Really? And girls are OK with this?”

I had started to respond when I saw that Blaire’s date was alone on the dance floor. Fuck! Where was she? “Move,” I demanded, shoving the woman back so I could get out of the booth. “Now, dammit, move!” I yelled.

She scrambled backward, glaring at me, but I didn’t have time to explain. Blaire was gone, and I didn’t see her leave. I was supposed to be watching her. I sucked at this.

I had to find her. Her dance partner started for the door, but some woman walked up to him and distracted him. I’d deal with him later if I needed to. Right now, I was going to see if Blaire had gone outside.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

My heart was pounding so hard that the relief when I saw her standing outside the bar, leaning against the building, made my knees weak. She was here. She was fine.

“Blaire?” I called out to her.

She had her arms crossed over her chest defensively. I wasn’t sure what had happened in there, but if the redneck wannabe cowboy had stepped out of line, I was going to rip his arms off.