Rock Me Page 23

“That’s it, sweetie, come for me,” he murmured, the words dissolving into a groan that brought as much pleasure to her as everything else he was doing. She reached out and fisted the sheets as he ground out a curse and warmth erupted across her belly, though he had the foresight to move a bit so that her tattoo wasn’t endangered. Unabashed, she arched against him, her head thrown back, feeling his gaze on her swaying br**sts even though her eyes were closed. It wasn’t often that she felt truly beautiful, but in that moment, with the lush pleasure he’d given her zinging along her nerve endings, she could have believed she was.

It was the only thought at the forefront of her mind as he eased her back down to the bed and back down to earth. All the heat had rushed out of her body and suddenly, she was cold. She just needed him to hold her. Again, she couldn’t stop shaking.

His weight came slowly down on her and she wrapped her arms tight around him, feeling at once deliriously happy and more than a little furious that he’d made her beg like that. Helpless tears leaked from her eyes as she leaned her face into his shoulder. Maybe he would hold her until she could get control, and he wouldn’t have to see her cry again. Was it too much to ask to maintain at least a shred of dignity around him? He’d about taken it all away.

Bullshit, he didn’t have any condoms. She wanted to scoff. He probably had one in his wallet right now. But she didn’t really want to know if he’d lied to her.

With some effort, she cleared her throat and prayed he wouldn’t hear tears in her voice when she spoke. “I can get up and make some coffee.”

“That would be awesome.” He rolled away from her and pushed the hair away from his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. She took the opportunity to surreptitiously swipe at her cheeks with the sheet. Time to put on her big girl panties and deal with it. The consequences had been laid out for her from the beginning.

“Do you mind if I jump in the shower first?” she asked, considering the mess they’d made.

“Only if I can go right behind you.”

“Sure.” He could be in there with her, if he wanted to. Jerk.

The hot spray did little to clear her head as she rinsed away the last remnants of their interlude. But at least the water running over her face camouflaged the tears she finally let flow in earnest. Had to get them out of her system now. Get them out, get it over with. She didn’t have any idea where this was going, but it hadn’t hit a brick wall or anything. They had time. They were okay.

So why was she near sobbing?

She jumped and whirled when he entered the shower behind her, his chest brushing her shoulder. “Thought you were coming in later,” she said, hearing panic in her voice. He was looking straight into her eyes, which she knew were red and weepy. There was no hiding that, or the trembling of her bottom lip.

Dammit. Caught.

Brian slicked the hair back off her forehead, as he was apparently fond of doing, then put his hand to her elbow and gently moved it up to her shoulder. When he wordlessly pulled her to him, she hated herself for going so willingly, and for utterly breaking down when his arms wrapped securely around her, holding her tight to him as she sobbed.

Chapter Eight

Somehow, they fell back into an easy and amiable manner with each other, drinking coffee out on her patio under a flawlessly clear sky. Candace had not only put coffee on, but whipped up a batch of pancakes and made him the best damn omelet he’d ever had in his life, and he was stuffed. The morning was mild, and she wore a silky white robe he’d love to strip off her, but that time had passed. Still, she was beautiful, her hair damp and her face clean of what little makeup she ordinarily wore.

He needed to stop these lightning-flash thoughts about how nice it would be to spend every morning with her. That way could only lay disaster. He didn’t want to take the one thing she had left before he had time to examine this feeling, to see if it could turn into something real. It was tough getting her to understand that. She was such an all-or-nothing go-getter. He loved that about her, but damn. She was a handful.

And such a go-getter that she’d damn near gotten it this morning. One flip of his switch while he’d been poised at her entrance and he’d have been lost. The thought of having her tied up and at his mercy had almost been enough to do it. Imagining her gasping and sighing over his phone had compounded it. If she’d only reached down and run her fingertip along her clit where he could see, he’d have been a crazed beast. Seeing a woman touch herself was his trigger.

Hell, they’d pretty much done everything-but over the past ten hours. Her virginity really shouldn’t have been that big a deal at this point. But it was. It was huge. If he’d lost control and taken her the way he wanted, he’d have left here feeling like a dog, because he would have hurt her. No question.

She deserved something special. She deserved candlelight and roses, shit like that. A promise, at the very least. Something he didn’t feel he was in any position to give her.

Candace was silent as she sipped her coffee and stared out over the park across the street from her apartment building. Kids were running around and playing on the monkeybars and the rickety merry-go-round, challenging one another to swing the highest on the swingset. Brian could remember playing there with Evan and Gabby when he was little. The two of them had tortured him and kept him in tears. Now it was mostly the other way around.

He turned his gaze from the place of much of his childhood torment and watched the wind lift damp tendrils of Candace’s hair and cast them across her face. She reached up to smooth them back and tuck them behind her ear, her hands slender and graceful, each tapered finger ending in a French tip. His fantasies of watching those fingertips slide over her nether regions went full-blown.

Okay, if just seeing her make the most mundane gestures was getting to him, he was definitely in trouble. But he’d never minded trouble, and it always seemed to find him. It was practically an old friend, but it had never been as sweet as this.

There was that damn word again.

“What are you doing today?” she asked.

It might have been a subtle hint to get lost. He didn’t think he’d ever hung around for this long with a girl the morning after, and he felt awkward, conspicuous. He was so reluctant to leave her. “I imagine I’ll go to work in a few hours,” he said.

“You imagine?” She laughed. “Must be nice to be the boss.”

“I highly recommend it. And I like keeping them on their toes, not knowing when I’ll drop in.” He grinned at her. “What’s up with you today?”

He could have sworn her face darkened. “I have to get fitted for a bridesmaid’s dress. Crap. I never did call to…” She checked her watch and frowned.

“Who’s getting married?”

“Deanne and Tyler.”

“Finally, huh. Well, good for them. They deserve each other. Let’s just pray they don’t reproduce.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped, and he got the biggest kick out of her split-second of dismay. Then she laughed. “That’s my cousin.”

He shook his head. “I feel sorry for you. I always did for Michelle, too, for ever having to live with her.” He would also pity Tyler, the poor schmuck, if the guy wasn’t such an ass**le himself. “I should go to the wedding. Jump up when the preacher asks for reasons the two should not be joined and yell, ‘Can’t you see? Their child will be the anti-Christ!’”

Prev page Next page