“But you’re gonna fuck her, aren’t you?” Nan asked from behind me.
I wanted her to stop saying that word in relation to Blaire, because, damn it all to hell, it was making me think about all that white-blond hair on my pillow and those eyes looking up at me as she climaxed. I didn’t answer Nan. I wasn’t going to fuck Blaire Wynn. I was going to keep as far away from her as possible. But Nan wasn’t going to order me around, either. I made my own choices.
CHAPTER THREE
The music was loudly pumping downstairs, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to hear it up in my room.
I wasn’t in the mood for all that shit down there. I hadn’t been in the mood before Blaire Wynn showed up, and I sure wasn’t in the mood now.
“There you are,” a female cooed, and I turned to see one of Nan’s friends from the club walking toward me. Her skirt was so short her ass almost hung out of the back. That had been the only reason I noticed her. Hard to miss an ass right there on display. I couldn’t remember her name, though.
“You lost?” I asked, not liking that she’d come upstairs. My rule was to keep the party away from my personal space.
She pushed her chest out and bit down on her bottom lip before batting her eyelashes at me. Long fake eyelashes. Nothing like Blaire’s. Fuck me. Why was I thinking about Blaire?
“I’m exactly where I want to be. With you,” she said in a husky whisper, before pressing her tits to my chest and running her hand down to cup my dick. “I’ve heard how good you can make a girl feel. How you can make her scream from orgasms, over and over again,” she said, gently squeezing me. “Make me come, Rush.”
I reached down and grabbed a strand of her blond hair. It wasn’t as blond as . . . no. Goddammit, I was doing it again. Comparing everything about her to Blaire. This was an issue I needed to get control of—now. “Beg,” I told her.
“Please, Rush,” she quickly replied, and she rubbed my uninterested cock to life. “I want you to fuck me, please.”
She was good. Sounded almost like a porn star. “It’s just sex, babe. Nothing more. And it’s just tonight,” I told her. I always made sure they knew the rules. We wouldn’t have a repeat unless she was damn good.
“Hmm, I’ll remind you that you said that,” she said, winking up at me like she didn’t believe me at all. Either she was fucking brilliant in the sack, or it was wishful thinking on her part. I hardly ever went back for seconds. “Where’s your room?” she asked, pressing a kiss to my chest.
“Not taking you to my room,” I told her, and shoved her back until she stumbled into the guest bedroom I used for sex. Girls didn’t get to go to my room. That was my place, and I didn’t want memories of females up there.
“Oh, Mr. Impatient,” she said, giggling as she shimmied out of her skirt and licked her lips. “I’m a pro at sucking cock.”
I pulled my shirt off and went over to sit on the bed. “Show me,” I replied.
The smell of perfume hit my nose, and I squinted against the sun, cursing whoever hadn’t closed the damn curtains last night. I rolled over, and the naked body beside me made a noise. She’d stayed all night. Shit. I hated the ones who didn’t leave. They were the clingy ones. The ones who thought this was more than a fuck. Did she really think getting on her knees and sucking me off without telling me her name was going to win her points?
I stood up and found my jeans, then jerked them on. The girl yawned, and I decided I’d forgo the shirt and get the hell out while I had time. She’d get the hint when I was nowhere to be found. I opened the door slowly, slipped out into the hallway, and headed for the stairs. If I went to my room, she’d come knocking on my door. I could take off down the beach and get in a morning run. But first, I needed coffee.
I fixed a cup quickly, then headed toward the French doors leading outside. The moment I reached the door, I spotted her. That long, silky hair of hers was blowing in the breeze as she stood on my porch looking out at the water. I loved that view. It was peaceful. I wondered what she was thinking. Did she worry that Abe might not come back? Was she really going to find a way to leave? Or was she the mooch her father was?
After a night of sex with a nameless friend of my sister’s, I wondered what it would be like to get close to Blaire. She wouldn’t throw herself at me, and she sure as hell wouldn’t get on her knees and suck me off because I told her to. Why the fuck did the idea of innocence appeal to me? That was complicated. I didn’t do complicated. I couldn’t ignore her, though. Not this morning. I needed to see her face again and see if that sincere look was still there. Was she angry about sleeping under the stairs? Would the claws come out now?
“That view never gets old,” I said, causing her to spin around and gape at me.
I had startled her. I started to laugh when her gaze traveled down my bare chest and focused on my abs. What the hell? She was checking me out. Maybe she wasn’t that innocent. The idea made my stomach sour.
“Are you enjoying the view?” I asked, masking my disappointment with amusement. She blinked rapidly as if waking from a trance and lifted her gaze back to my face. I hated the idea of her throwing herself at me. I didn’t want her to be like the others. Why the fuck it mattered, I didn’t know, but it did. “Don’t let me interrupt you. I was enjoying it myself,” I told her, unable to keep the annoyance out of my voice. I took a sip of my coffee. Her face turned bright red, and she spun around to face the water again. Why did the simple fact that she’d been caught looking and gotten embarrassed make me so fucking happy? Damn. I couldn’t keep from laughing with relief.
“There you are. I missed you in bed this morning.” I recognized the voice from last night. Shit. I’d wasted time, and she’d found me. Blaire turned back to look at me, and then her eyes went to the girl pressing up against me. This was good. She needed to see what a sorry-ass piece of shit I could be. This was what I wanted. She’d stay away from me if she saw this. But the flash of interest in Blaire’s eyes as the girl ran her fingernails down my chest did things to me I didn’t want to admit.
“It’s time for you to go,” I said, moving her hand off of me and pointing in the general direction of the front door.
“What?” she asked with surprise in her voice, as if I hadn’t told her last night that this wasn’t happening again.
“You got what you came here for, babe. You wanted me between your legs. You got it. Now I’m done,” I reminded her.
“You’re kidding me!” she replied with an angry snarl. Maybe she hadn’t believed me last night. Her mistake.
I shook my head at my own stupidity and took another drink of my coffee. One day, I would learn that these hookups with a sleepover were trouble.
“You are not going to do this to me. Last night was amazing. You know it,” she said in a whiny voice as she reached for my arm, which I pulled out of her grasp. It wasn’t “Beg Rush” time anymore. We did that last night. It was fun. She got off more times than she could count. But for me, it was mediocre.
“I warned you last night, when you came to me begging and taking off your clothes, that all it would only ever be was one night of sex. Nothing more,” I said, annoyed that I even had to remind her.
I didn’t look back at her. I kept my eyes on the water and drank my coffee as if she’d already left. With a dramatic stomp of her feet, she left.
The horrified look on Blaire’s face made me quickly get over the interruption of last night’s mistake. “So how did you sleep last night?” I asked. It had to be cramped in that room, plus the stairs and the noise in the house probably sucked. This was her chance to complain. Show her true colors.