Needing Her Page 15

  The problem is there’s this war going on inside me. It’s been going on since I met her, telling me I need to leave her alone before this gets too far. I think it already has gone too far, and if we have sex tonight, it will definitely have gone too far.

  Unlike the other women I’ve been with, I don’t think sex with Rachel will be purely physical. I have feelings for her, which complicate matters. I’ve never had sex with someone I actually cared about. This is all new for me and I’m not sure I’m ready for this.

  We’re at my building now and I pull up to the guard station.

  George is there and says his usual line. “Welcome back, Mr. Kensington.” He leans down a little, trying to get a better look into the car.

  “Have a nice evening, George.”

  I drive forward before he can look too closely at Rachel.

  “He seems like a nice man,” she says.

  “He is, but I had to hurry through because he was checking you out.”

  She swats at my arm. “He wasn’t checking me out. He’s like 70 years old.”

  “And yet he was checking you out. Dirty old man.” I act annoyed as I pull into my parking space. “I’ll have to speak to his supervisor about that.”

  “Pearce, don’t get him in trouble.”

  I go around and open her door. I put my arm around her as we walk to the elevator. “I was kidding. George and I are friends. And I can’t blame him for checking you out. You’re gorgeous. Men can’t help themselves. We have to look at beautiful women.”

  “And women can’t help but look at a hot man. You had plenty of women checking you out at the restaurant.”

  “I didn’t notice.” I kiss her. “The only woman I noticed was you.”

  We ride the elevator to the top floor, which can only be accessed by a security code. The elevator opens right into my loft apartment, which takes up the entire top floor of the building.

  “Is this your place?” Rachel asks.

  “This is it.”

  She steps into the living room. “It’s huge. Look at all this space.”

  “I’m a big guy. I need a lot of space.”

  She walks into the kitchen. “I like the open layout. I like how the kitchen and living room are all one big room.”

  The kitchen and living room make up the middle of the loft. Then off to one side, down the hall, there are two bedrooms, one of which I use as an office. On the other end of the loft, just off the kitchen, is the master bedroom. The bedroom door is placed so that I can see the elevator and living room from my bed. I had it built that way so that if someone’s in there, trying to rob me or attack me, I’ll see them coming. I keep a gun in my nightstand just in case.

  We’re in the kitchen and I go over to the refrigerated glass case that holds an assortment of beverages. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Just water is fine.”

  “I have several kinds of water in here. You have to be more specific. Or just pick one.”

  She comes over and takes out a bottle of citrus flavored water. I grab a plain water for myself. I don’t buy any of this. The cleaning staff stocks it for me.

  We’re both standing by the counter, holding our waters. I take a sip of mine and she drinks some of hers. Our eyes meet and I feel it again. The tension that’s been hovering between us all night. Pure, raw sexual tension that’s stronger than I’ve ever felt before.

  I step closer to her, setting my water on the counter behind her. I take her water and set it next to mine. I shouldn’t do this. Doing this will only move this relationship forward, taking it to a place I said I wouldn’t go. But God, I want it. I want it so bad. I want her, and not just sexually. I want her in my life. I want this to go somewhere. Someplace real. For the first time in my life, I want a real relationship and I want it with her. Maybe it won’t work out, but I at least want to try.

  Our bodies are just inches apart, our eyes locked on each other, the sexual tension ready to burst. I don’t know what the hell I’m waiting for.

  I haul her into me, my other hand buried in her hair as I crash my lips to hers. I wanted our first time together to be slow and gentle, but we’re way past that point. Slow and gentle will have to wait until later.

  She yanks up my polo shirt and I break from her lips just long enough to rip the shirt off. I take her sweater off next, getting even more aroused when I see her breasts overflowing a white, lacy push-up bra. She’s already working on my belt so I work on her jeans, unbuttoning them and tugging down the zipper. It reminds me of when I did this earlier and she moaned in pleasure at my touch. I want to make her moan again and yell out my name.

  It’s taking too long to get her jeans off while standing, so I pick her up and carry her to my bed. Once she’s lying down, I’m easily able to slip off her jeans, then slide her white, lacy string bikinis down her long, lean legs. I strip off my jeans and boxers, and while I’m doing that, she whips off her bra. I’m left with the sight of her naked body. And damn, she’s beautiful. If I wasn’t so desperate to be with her, I’d just stand here and stare at her.

  I get a condom from my nightstand and put it on, then lie over her and kiss her, my tongue tasting her. She runs her hands down my back.

  “Are you sure about this?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she says breathless.

  I line myself up and push inside her. Fuck. She feels incredible. Like she was made for me. A perfect damn fit. I didn’t think that was possible. She must feel it too, because she’s moaning even more than she was earlier. I’m trying not to go too fast, but I’ve lost all control of it. It’s like there’s this momentum driving us forward and I can’t slow down. And I don’t think she wants me to. She’s matching my movements, holding onto me as I thrust into her, harder and faster.

  I’m so close, but I’m trying to hold out longer for her.

  She tells me to keep going, and then I feel her as she comes. I follow seconds later, then lie over her a moment, catching my breath while softly kissing her.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say, getting up. I go in the bathroom and dispose of the condom. This is when I’d normally tell the woman to leave. But instead, I return to the bed and lie on my back, putting my arm out. Rachel moves under it and against my side and I lower my arm around her.

  As we lie there, I go over in my head what just happened. That wasn’t just sex. I’ve had sex many times and it’s never felt like that. With all the other women I’ve been with, it’s always felt like we were two separate people, our bodies briefly connected but never really together. But with Rachel, I felt like we were truly one. Our minds, our thoughts, our need for each other. It was intense. And emotional. I actually felt emotion during sex. Shit, that can’t be good.

  I can’t let this move forward. I can’t keep leading her on when I know it’s going to end. I can’t get her involved in my life. It’s too dangerous.

  And yet…I can’t let her go.

  “Pearce.” Her hand moves over my chest in a slow, circular pattern. It’s warm and comforting and not what I’m used to. Women always touch me in a sexual way, not a loving, caring way like Rachel is doing right now.

  I kiss her forehead. “Yes, Rachel.”

  “That was amazing.”

  “I agree.” I smile, happy that she got as much pleasure out of it as I did.

  “I mean, I’ve never had it that…good. We’re going to have to do that again.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “But not right now. Right now I just want to lie here.” She moves closer, snuggling up against my side. “I like being in your arms.”

  “I like having you there.” I kiss her forehead again. “I want you to stay here tonight. I don’t want you to go.”

  She lifts her head up and kisses me. “Then I won’t go.” She rests her head on my shoulder and hugs my chest.

  I tighten my arm around her, securing her in place. I’m breaking my own rules again. Never hold a woman after sex. Or ever. And never let her
spend the night. Yet here I am, holding her in my arms after asking her to stay.

  I don’t know why I’m acting this way. I know it’s wrong. I know it’s against the rules, both theirs and mine. Maybe I’ll come to my senses tomorrow and end this. Tell her I can’t see her anymore.

  I look down and see her resting on my chest, her eyes shut, her arm over me. She has a slight smile on her face and looks peaceful. Content. I feel the same way. It’s a feeling I’ve never had before. That feeling of being at peace.

  How does she do it? How does she bring out these feelings in me? I never feel anything. It’s what I’ve been taught. Think. Don’t feel. Use your brain, not your heart. Shut off all emotion. Feeling emotion makes you weak. And showing emotion is even worse. It makes you vulnerable. Open to attack. So I do everything possible to keep my emotions hidden, burying them so deep I can’t feel them. But with Rachel, my emotions keep rising to the surface and I can’t seem to control it.

  I glance down at her body; those lean long legs, those curvy hips, that narrow waist and those soft full breasts. God, she’s beautiful.

  She’s also intelligent. Compassionate. Amusing. Easy to talk to.

  Dammit! I’m getting way too attached to her. I need to end this. Soon.

  But then I feel her in my arms, and think about how I feel when I’m with her, and I can’t do it. I can’t end this. I know I need to, but I can’t.

  I lift the covers over us and minutes later she falls asleep on me. I find myself drifting off as well. But before I do, I check the clock. It’s only 11:30. I haven’t gone to sleep this early in years. Probably not since high school. I usually go to bed at two or three in the morning, then get up at five for work. I’m always too wound up to sleep. But the feel of Rachel next to me calms my mind and my body and I fall asleep.

  A noise in the bathroom wakes me. I bolt up, my head whipping right and left as I yank open my nightstand to get my gun.

  The door to the bathroom opens and I see Rachel standing there. I’m not used to having someone in my apartment and my instincts just took over. I slowly close the nightstand drawer as she walks over to me.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  She has on the white dress shirt I wore yesterday, and damn, it looks sexy on her. She only has the middle section buttoned, giving me a glimpse of her breasts. My shirt is long, but she’s tall so I still see plenty of her lean, toned legs.

  “No, I was awake,” I tell her. “What time is it?”

  “Nine.”

  “Nine?” I check the clock. “I haven’t slept that long in—” I pause to think. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept that long.”

  “I guess you were tired.” She climbs on top of me, straddling me and pushing me back down on the bed. “I must’ve wore you out last night with all those new activities.” She leans down until her face is just over mine. “Or it could’ve been that incredibly hot, amazing, best-I’ve-ever-had sex.”

  I smile. “That was probably it.” I reach up and start unbuttoning the shirt she’s wearing. “I should let you know, I have serious insomnia. Perhaps you could help me out.”

  She kisses me, her mouth minty. She must’ve found my toothpaste. “Are you saying you want me to come over and do that every night?”

  “Is that a problem?” I undo the last button and slip my hands under the shirt, over her hips, and around her firm, round ass.

  She closes her eyes, smiling and becoming breathless at the feel of my touch. “Every night might be too much.” My hand moves up to her breast and she gasps. “Or maybe not.”

  I’m still naked from last night and she has nothing on under the shirt. She feels the hard length of me beneath her and starts rubbing herself against me.

  I push the shirt off her shoulders and she slips it down her arms and tosses it aside. She kisses me while still rubbing against me. I can barely hold myself back. I’m so hard, it’s throbbing, desperate to be inside her again.

  I need to get a condom, but they’re in the drawer with my gun. I don’t know her stance on guns, but I’m going to assume she won’t like it.

  “Let me get a condom,” I whisper between kisses.

  “Are you clean?”

  “What?”

  “Do you have any diseases? Like STDs?”

  “No.”

  “Then we don’t need one. I’m on the pill.”

  She reaches down and takes me in her hand, positioning me. Just as the tip touches her, I hold her back.

  “Wait. We need a condom.”

  “Why? I don’t have any diseases.”

  I’ve never done it without a condom. It’s too risky. What if she’s lying about not having diseases? What if she’s not really on the pill? I’ve only known her a week, and although I have feelings for her and don’t think she’s the type of woman who would lie to me or try to trick me, I can’t trust her. I trust no one.

  “I can’t do this without a condom,” I say.

  She doesn’t seem mad or hurt by the request. “Um, okay. Are they in the drawer?”

  “I’ll get it.” I lift her off me and set her next to me on the bed. Then I open the drawer just barely and take out a condom and slip it on.

  “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to,” she says.

  I lie over her. “Believe me, I want to do this.”

  I kiss her, then put myself inside her. Shit, she feels good. It’s almost unbelievable how compatible we are this way. She arches up and I lean down and kiss her breast. I didn’t have a chance to do that last night so I’m taking time now. She has full, round, perfect breasts. And the best part is that they’re all real. When I felt them, they were soft, natural. And knowing that makes them even more beautiful.

  She grips my hair, keeping me at her breast while she wraps her legs around my waist. I go slower this time. I want this to last. I bring my mouth to hers and we kiss. Her hands slide down to my shoulders, holding onto them as my hips move faster. I attempt to slow down but she tells me not to, so I keep going, and moments later we’re both there, over the peak and riding it down together until our bodies collapse. I roll off her, sweat beading up on my chest.

  The sex was just like last night. Powerful. Intense.

  “I think we’ve now confirmed that we’re definitely compatible that way,” she says, out of breath.

  “I already came to that conclusion last night.”

  “I didn’t. I thought it was too good to be true. A fluke. Like maybe you were just having a good night.”

  “Hey.” I laugh and nudge her side. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “I know, but it’s more than that. It’s like we just fit. Like our bodies are made for each other.”

  I’m starting to think it’s more than just our bodies that are made for each other. There’s something else between us that’s drawing us to each other on a deeper level. I hate admitting that to myself because I don’t believe in fate or destiny or love at first sight. But I am the type of person who trusts my instincts. And if my instincts tell me to do something, I don’t question it. I just do it. I make decisions fast. I can’t stand it when people take forever to make a decision, analyzing every detail then wavering on what to do. I make a decision and go for it. And as much as I’ve tried to ignore my instincts when it comes to Rachel, if I listen to them, they tell me to be with her. To not let her go.

  “Pearce, are you laughing at me?” She’s lying on her side, facing me.

  I look at her. “No. I’m not laughing.”

  “Yeah, but you’re smiling like you think I’m crazy for saying that.”

  “Saying what?”

  “That we’re made for each other. Well, our bodies, not us.”

  “Why not us?”

  Her smile turns into a shy grin. “Because we haven’t known each other very long.”

  “You don’t think there’s anything else between us besides sex?” I act offended.

  She gives me a kiss. “That’s not what I meant. Truthfully,
yes, I think there is something between us, but I’m not ready to admit that yet. It seems too soon.”

  I slip my hand under her waist and pull her against my side. “Is it too soon for me to consider you my girlfriend?”

  “No. I would like that.”

  I kiss her. “Then would my girlfriend like breakfast?”

  “Yes. I’m starving. Are there any good breakfast places around here?”

  The answer to her question is yes, but I don’t think we should go out. I know a lot of people in this town and if they see me with Rachel, the news will get back to my father or one of the members.

  “Why don’t we stay here and I’ll make us something? It’ll be the first time I’ve ever used the kitchen.”

  “Really?” She sits up a little. “How long have you lived here?”

  “About a year.”

  “And you’ve never used the kitchen?”

  “I always eat out. I don’t cook.”

  “That oven you have in there costs a fortune. It’s top of the line. And you’ve never used it?”

  “No. Never. I don’t even know if it works. I’ve never tried turning it on.”

  “What?” Her eyes widen in shock. “How is that possible? If I had an oven like that, I’d use it all the time. I think I even saw it had a convection setting.”

  “When were you checking out my oven? You were supposed to be checking out me last night, not my oven.”

  She laughs. “I wasn’t checking it out. I just glanced at it and noticed the settings. Would you care if I used it sometime?”

  “My oven?”

  “Yeah. The one in my apartment doesn’t work right. It cooks unevenly. It burns my baked goods before they’re even done inside.”

  “You can use it whenever you want. What are you going to make?”

  “Well, first I’m going to make you dinner like I told you I would, so pick a night and I’ll come over. And since it’s fall, I’d love to do some baking, like maybe an apple pie, some pumpkin bread, an apple crisp. Fall is my favorite baking season. I’d bake for days if I had someone who could eat everything I made.”