Rush Too Far (Rosemary Beach #4)(43)

I tore myself away from her and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “One more flight of stairs,” I said, more for myself than for her. Then I took her hand and led her down the hall to the door leading up to my room. I pulled the key out of my pocket. I never left my room unlocked. I liked keeping it private. Knowing no one could go in there unless I wanted them there.

The door swung open, and I stepped back and motioned for Blaire to go on in. The desire to see her in my room around my things and to share it all with her was almost as powerful as my desire to see her on my bed. Naked.

She stopped when she reached the top step and gasped. The view over the water from the floor-to-ceiling windows was what I had fallen in love with as a child.

“This room is why I had my mom buy this house. Even at ten years old, I knew this room was special,” I told her, wrapping my arms around her. I loved that she could see this. That it affected her, too.

“It’s incredible,” she said, with awe in her voice. It was incredible. But having her here with me made it so much more amazing.

“I called my dad that day and told him I’d found a house I wanted to live in. He wired my mother the money, and she bought it. She loved the location, so this is the house we’ve spent our summers in. She has a house of her own in Atlanta, but she prefers it here.”

“I’d never want to leave,” she said.

Smiling, I kissed the soft skin of her ear then whispered, “Ah, but you haven’t seen my cabin in Vail or my flat in Manhattan.” But she would. I wanted to see her there, too.

Sharing my personal life and space with people was something I had always hated and refused to do. But with Blaire, I craved having her be a part of it. Even if all I could do was hold her, I wanted her here tonight.

I turned her toward the king-size bed that sat to the right and covered most of that far wall. “And that’s my bed,” I told her, as I held her hips and moved us toward the bed. I could feel Blaire tense. She was nervous. Talking about it and actually standing here in my room, looking at my bed, were two different things. I wanted her more than I wanted my next breath, but I wouldn’t force her. “Blaire, even if all we do is kiss or just lie here and talk, I’m OK with that. I just wanted you up here. Close to me.”

She turned back to look at me. “You don’t mean that. I’ve seen you in action, Rush Finlay. You don’t bring girls to your room and expect to just talk.” Her attempt to sound teasing failed. The uncertainty in her voice sliced through me. She had come up here with me thinking she was just another one of those girls I f**ked and sent home? Shit. How could I get it through to her that this thing with her was more? So much more. That she meant more.

“I don’t bring girls up here at all, Blaire.”

“The first night I came here, you said your bed was full,” she said, frowning at me as if she had caught me in a lie. Damn, she was cute.

“Yeah, because I was sleeping in it. I don’t bring girls to my bedroom. I don’t want meaningless sex tainting this space. I love it here,” I told her honestly. But I’d brought her here. Didn’t she understand what that meant?

“The next morning, a girl was still here. You’d left her in bed, and she came looking for you in her undies,” she said with a tight voice.

Crazy girl. She had no f**king idea what she did to me. Needing to touch her, I slipped my hand under her shirt and caressed the soft skin there. Her small shiver made me smile. “The first room to the right was Grant’s room until our parents divorced. I use it as my bachelor-pad room now. That’s where I take girls. Not here. Never here. You’re my first. Well, I let Henrietta come up here once a week to clean, but I promise there is no hanky-panky going on between us,” I explained, as I grinned down at her.

“Kiss me, please,” she said, then grabbed my shoulders and leaned up to press her mouth against mine without waiting for me to respond.

That had to be the sweetest thing I’d ever heard. Kiss me, please. Fuck, this girl was gonna ruin me. I wanted her to belong to me. Her body to know only me. Completely.

Pushing her back, I laid her down on the bed and pushed her legs apart so I could settle between them without breaking the sweetest damn kiss I’d ever had. Blaire grabbed my shirt in her small fists as if she wanted to rip it off my body. If my girl wanted her hands on my chest, I’d make that a hell of a lot easier on her.

I pulled away from her long enough to jerk my shirt over my head and toss it before taking her mouth again. I could kiss her mouth for f**king hours. I had to grab handfuls of the covers to keep from stripping her naked while I let her explore. Each touch from her hands got more demanding and brave. She started out by running her hands up my arms, her touch almost as soft as a feather. But she was running them over my chest now like she couldn’t get enough. When her thumbs rubbed my ni**les, I swear to God I almost lost my shit.

I wanted to touch ni**les, too. Her hard little pink ni**les. I tore my mouth away from hers and unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing and pushed it back. I didn’t have the patience to take it off. I needed her in my mouth. Now. When I jerked her bra down, both full, luscious tits fell free from their confines, and I feasted like a starving man. I licked them just to hear her moan and whimper, then I sucked hard. She bucked against me.

She hadn’t been ready for that yet, and I trembled and fought to catch my breath when she cried out in pleasure from feeling my c**k pressed against her needy pu**y. She would be swollen and hot. I wanted to taste it. She’d tasted so sweet on my finger. I unzipped her skirt and pulled it and her panties down while keeping my eyes on her face. If she got nervous, I had to slow down. I wasn’t going to frighten her. Her mouth fell open as she breathed hard and watched me. The complete trust in her eyes undid me. I wanted it all off.