Rosemary Beach: When I'm Gone Part 9

Mase was watching me as if he wasn't sure how to handle me. He was keeping me at arm's length. Literally.

"I need to know what I can and can't touch," he said, sounding out of breath. "I know something makes you cautious and nervous. I've watched you closely, and I read body language well. But you're confusing me, Reese."

Without asking me to tell him about my past, he was letting me know that he knew something was there. Something haunted me. And he was being careful not to scare me. The little bit of my heart that I thought I still had possession of fled. Mase Manning now had it all.

"I liked what we were doing," I told him, hoping that all the love I felt for this man wasn't s.h.i.+ning on my face like the bright ray of sunlight that was warming up all the things inside me that had long felt cold.

Mase smirked, then shook his head. "Yeah, I got that you liked the kissing. But getting close and pressing those sweet . . ." He trailed off as his gaze flicked to my chest, and he let out a small groan before looking back up at my face. "My hands are going to want to explore. I've been fantasizing about your body for a while now. I need to know where my hands can and can't go."

He had been fantasizing about me? Oh, my.

Where could he go? My heart wanted him everywhere, but I knew my head might not agree. The problem was, I wasn't sure what would set me off. So far, what we were doing was nothing like the nightmare I'd lived through. It was wonderful. It helped hold back the ugly memories. I wanted more of this in hopes that it would drown out the past.

"What part of me do you want to touch?" I asked.

His eyes went back to my chest. "I'd like to start there," he said in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

My b.r.e.a.s.t.s began to tingle and ache at the nipples, like they knew they were getting attention from this beautiful man and liked it. They were as shameless as I was. I nodded, and his eyelids lowered as he kept his heated gaze locked on my now heaving chest. I was having a hard time breathing, because I was that excited to feel Mase's hands on me.

He took a step toward me, and his hooded gaze met mine again. I think I stopped breathing in that moment when his hand lifted, and I felt the warmth from his skin as he cupped his palm around my needy breast.

I inhaled sharply, and he studied me carefully. He didn't move until I began breathing again normally. Or as normally as can be expected when your breast is being fondled by the man you're in love with. His thumb grazed over my nipple, and I grabbed his biceps to steady myself. His eyes were locked on my chest now. With the pad of his thumb, he circled and teased my nipple, causing me to make some sounds I had never made before.

When his other hand moved toward me, I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath for fear of pa.s.sing out. Just as he'd done with the other breast, he gently cupped it, then began paying close attention to the nipple. I suddenly hated the tank top I loved to sleep in. It was in the way. But the idea of Mase taking the tank top off me and actually looking at my bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s was as terrifying as it was exciting.

"Is this OK?" he whispered almost reverently.

"Yes," I replied.

"I want to kiss you again while I touch you," he said, studying my lips. "Can we lie down on your bed?"

My bed. That was more. A lot more.

But I had Mase in my bed every night. Even if it was just on the phone.

"Yes," I told him, before I could freak out and change my mind.

His left hand slid down my stomach and hip, and then he took my hand in his. He didn't say anything else as he led me over to the bedroom door. The lamp beside the bed was the only light in the room.

His hand left mine, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. I watched, fascinated, as he tugged off his boots and placed them on the floor, his gaze never leaving me.

"Come here," he said, with a crook of his long finger.

At this point, the man could tell me to go jump off a bridge, and I was pretty sure I'd ask him which one.

He took both my hands and pulled me into his lap.

I had to straddle him with my knees on the bed. He tilted his mouth to fit across mine, and then all thought of nerves vanished as he kissed me again. The wonders he could accomplish with the slip of his tongue. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sank into him . . . until the hardness I remembered from my past was pressing against me. Then I froze.

Without warning, the memories came back, taunting me. I shuddered and jumped off him and backed away, afraid that he'd see the horror in my eyes. That he'd know exactly how dirty I was. I didn't want to make him dirty. What had I been thinking? I couldn't do this. Mase was so good and nice and kind. He didn't know me. He thought he did. But he had no idea.

"Come back to me, Reese. Don't you go there," he said, his hands taking both of mine and holding me. "Look at me, baby."

Mase.

The broken, terrified expression on her face made me physically ill. I never wanted to be the reason that darkness came over her. "Please, Reese, look at me. In my eyes. Focus on me. Nothing else," I encouraged her, as I held her hands firmly in mine while letting her maintain some s.p.a.ce between us. My initial reaction had been to pull her tightly into my arms and hold her. But those eyes had stopped me.

She blinked her eyes several times, and her gaze cleared up as she did what I asked. She was back with me. The demons tormenting her were once again pushed away. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"No. Never be sorry. Nothing is your fault. With me, you never have to apologize," I said.

Her shoulders sank in defeat, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. I wasn't letting her do that. Not now. Not after she'd given me so much, entrusted me with so much.

"Can I just hold you? Nothing more. Just let me hold you." It was supposed to be a question, but it had turned into pleading.

She nodded and stepped toward me. I gathered her into my arms and wrapped them around her. Slowly, her arms slid around my waist, and she held on to me just as fiercely.

We didn't speak or move. We just stood there like that, holding each other for several minutes. I rea.s.sured myself that she was here and she was going to be OK. I would be there right beside her through all of this. Whatever it was.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then pressed my cheek against the silky locks. The cinnamon sweet cream smell that I loved engulfed me, and I closed my eyes, wis.h.i.+ng I could wipe away every bad thing that had happened to her.

"I hate him. I don't know who he is, but I loathe him with every fiber of my being," I whispered against her hair.

She tensed in my arms for a moment, and then her body relaxed as her arms tightened around me as if she was seeking safety and comfort from me. I could give her that. Even if she wasn't ready for me to give her other things, I could give her peace.

"It's late. You need to go to bed," I told her, wanting nothing more than to crawl into that bed with her. Even if it was just to sleep.

"Will . . . will you stay here tonight?" she asked against my chest.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be."

She pulled back from me, and I let her go. She walked over to the bed, pulled back the covers, and climbed under them. Then she patted the spot beside her. "Sleep here. Beside me."

Her wish was my command. I lay down beside her but stayed on top of the covers. I was fully clothed, so I didn't need covers anyway. Holding out my arm, I looked at her curled up on her side, watching me. "Come here," I said, and she immediately moved to tuck herself into the crook of my arm and shoulder. I wrapped my arm around her and held her.

Staring at the ceiling, I wondered how I would go back home on Sunday morning. Leaving her wasn't going to be easy. I didn't like thinking of her here alone.

The need to protect her had grown into something fierce and possessive inside of me. I thought of her all the time, and all I could think was that I wanted her safe. I wanted her with me. I didn't want anyone else touching her or comforting her. Just me.

I was supposed to fix her problems. I was the one who should be holding her when she cried. It drove me crazy to think of anyone else doing something for her that I should be doing.

This girl was making me crazy. I felt out of my depth with her. I didn't know why I had this insane urge to wrap her up and run off with her. It couldn't be healthy. I had always been protective of Harlow and my mother. But other than those two, no one else was that important to me.

Until now. And this was a league all its own.

Why her? Why was she affecting me like this? I had seen hot bodies before and gorgeous smiles. It was more than her outward appearance. Beautiful women only interested me for one thing. Reese had reached something else inside of me and squeezed it tight, from the moment I ran into the room and found her sitting on the floor surrounded by broken gla.s.s.

I had actually been p.i.s.sed at the mirror for hurting her. Who gets f.u.c.king mad at an object?

"Mase?" her soft voice said against my chest.

The blood in my veins warmed and sped up with the sound of my name on her lips. Or at least, it felt like it. My whole body reacted to her. "Yes," I replied, gently wrapping a silky lock of her hair around my finger.

"It was my stepfather," she said, so softly I almost didn't hear her.

Everything in my chest felt like it was twisting into knots. It hurt to breathe. Holy f.u.c.k, it hurt so bad. I had to force oxygen into my lungs as the reality of what she had just admitted to me settled in. Rage unlike anything I'd ever experienced crashed through me, and I wanted to murder another human being for the first time in my life. No, I wanted to torture him slowly first. Listen to him scream in agony. Then I wanted to watch him die.

"Mase?" Reese's voice called my name again, and I inhaled sharply, putting the revenge and hate for a man I didn't know to the side. My girl needed me now. She didn't need me losing my s.h.i.+t over this. She'd trusted me with it.

"Yes, baby," I replied.

"I hate him, too."

Those four words just about undid me. "I'm going to wash it all away. I swear to G.o.d, I am, Reese. One day, all you will see or remember is me and what we feel like together. I swear."

She turned her head and kissed my chest, then snuggled closer to me. "I believe you."

Reese.

It took me a few seconds to awaken fully and remember that I wasn't alone in my apartment. I didn't have to open my eyes to know that I was alone in bed. I could feel Mase's absence. His warmth was gone.

But he was in the other room. The smell of coffee filled the small apartment. And Mase's voice, although he was talking quietly, drifted through the closed door.

I made quick work of brus.h.i.+ng my teeth and hair before going into the living room to face him after last night. The fact that he was here still amazed me. He had come to stop me from going on a date with Thad. And in return, I'd freaked out on him while doing something as simple as kissing and touching.

I opened the door and stepped into the room, and my eyes went straight to the tall form of perfection standing at the window with his back to me. He was on the phone. He was still wearing the jeans and T-s.h.i.+rt he'd had on last night, but his duffel bag sat on the sofa. He had come prepared.

"I'd rather not come, Harlow. I like Tripp and all, but I wasn't planning on being here this weekend, and I didn't come down for his party. I have other things I'd rather do tonight," he said in a frustrated tone, although he was still talking in a quiet voice.

His jaw worked as he listened to whatever his sister was saying. It seemed she really wanted him to go to a party tonight. I started to speak up and tell him he should go.

"Fine. I'll go if Reese wants to. But if she'd rather not, we're doing something else. End of discussion. Now, I love you, but I gotta go. I was going to try to make some breakfast before she wakes up."

I closed my mouth and stared in surprise at his back. He wanted to take me? To a party with his crowd? And he was going to make me breakfast? Not blurting out that I loved him was hard, because after listening to this conversation, I wanted to open the window and alert all the neighbors that I was in love with this man.

He turned, and his gaze locked on mine. A slow, s.e.xy smile touched his lips, and I was sure I might swoon right here on the spot. "I gotta go. She's awake," he said into the phone, and ended his call.

I stood right where I was, unable to move, with that gleam in his eyes and the warmth of that gaze slowly trailing down my body and back up again.

"You even wake up gorgeous," he said in a gentle tone.

"Thank you," was my silly response. I didn't know what else to say.

"You hungry? I was going to take inventory and make us some breakfast," he said, as he walked over to the kitchen. "I've already made coffee."

"Yes, but I can make breakfast. I make really good homemade waffles." I followed him into the small kitchen area.

He glanced back at me over his shoulder. "Homemade waffles? Sold. All I can do is eggs and toast."

"Then you go sit over there, because both of us are not fitting into this kitchen."

He was pouring more coffee into his cup. Then he turned and walked back out of the corner hole I had for a kitchen. I may or may not have been checking out his b.u.t.t in those jeans. I had to snap my head up when he turned back to me.

A knowing grin lit up his face, and he took a few steps back in my direction and placed his cup of coffee on the bar. "I'm going to admit something that I think you should know. I'm a bit of a caveman. The idea of you cooking for me turns me on." His voice dropped as he said the last part, then he bent his head and pressed a warm kiss to my lips.

I was ready for another round of kissing if he was. I went up on my tiptoes eagerly. I was five foot nine, but Mase was at least six-three or six-four. He made me feel short.

His hand slipped around to my lower back and pressed me closer to him, just before his mouth opened and I was given the yummy taste of his peppermint goodness. I moved my hands from his arms to his neck to help pull me up even farther on my toes.

Mase moved his hands over my b.u.t.t and cupped it, and for a moment, we both stilled. When panic didn't set in, I leaned closer, and Mase inhaled sharply, then pulled me up his body while holding on to my bottom.

Just when I was getting ready to explore his lips some more, he broke the kiss and took a deep breath. "Reese, baby, I've got a thing for your a.s.s. I've had a thing for your a.s.s since day one. And now that I've got my hands on it, I need a minute to calm down without your hot little mouth turning me the f.u.c.k on," he said in a husky voice that made me s.h.i.+ver.

I ducked my head to hide my smile. He liked my b.u.t.t. It was too fat, but he liked it. I couldn't keep from grinning.

"I see that smile," he said teasingly, as he squeezed my bottom in his hands and then groaned. "f.u.c.k . . . that's nice," he said in my ear. "Either I carry you over to that sofa and continue to hold the finest a.s.s in the world in my hands while I kiss you, or I let you go so you can make those waffles. Your choice. I want to do what you feel comfortable with."

This man and his words made me feel like goo inside. All melty and mushy. Who needs breakfast, anyway? "The sofa," I whispered, and he let out a pleased growl as he picked me up off the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he kept his hands on my bottom. In three long strides, we were sinking down onto the sofa. I felt the stiffness under my bottom, and he stilled.

I would not panic. This was Mase. This was Mase.

I kept my eyes locked on his handsome face and watched in fascination as his eyes flickered with something so s.e.xy and needy that it made my center ache.

"You can pull your legs out and hold yourself up over my lap, if feeling what you do to me makes you nervous." His voice was tight, as if he was hurting somehow.

I moved so that my legs were folded on each side of his and I was straddling him. Just like last night. If I sank back down, I would feel his erection against me. But there was a tingling ache there that hadn't been there before. The idea of putting any pressure on it excited me.

Mase's hands flexed on my bottom, and he breathed out heavily through his nose as we kept our gazes firmly locked on each other. Slowly, I let myself sink down onto his lap. The hard ridge of his p.e.n.i.s fit right along the slit between my legs, and I gasped loudly when a spark that felt so good it was almost painful shot up my body from the contact between my legs.

Mase swallowed so hard I could hear him. His breathing was heavier now, and his hands had tightened their hold on my backside. "You OK?" he asked in a voice that sounded like he was in pain.

"Am I hurting you?" I asked, horrified. I hadn't even thought about how this might feel to him. I started to get up, and his hands immediately moved to my thighs as he held me down.

"No. No. Don't. This is . . . f.u.c.k, baby. I don't have words for what this is," he said, then let out a hard laugh as he laid his head back against the sofa and stared at the ceiling. "I need another minute."

His hands squeezed my thighs as he sat there like that. I admired the thickness of his throat. It even looked muscular. Did necks have muscles?