Rebel
Page 23
He chuckled, lifted his brow, and shook his head. There were no words to describe their first encounter. “That’s happy, not cocky. I’m…truly speechless.” When she didn’t comment, just remained relaxed, a light, happy grin on her face, a little pinch of fear sparked deep inside him. He snuffed it, leaned in, and kissed her gently. “You’re amazing.”
Her hand came up to his face, the touch sweet as she curled her fingers and ran her knuckles across his jaw. Her eyes slid closed, and she kissed him back, slow, sweet, her tongue lazily making blood pool at the base of his cock again.
He knew he needed to be the one to leave before she suggested it. He needed to leave her while she still wanted him. Which, by the way her hand was tightening in his hair, would be now.
Damn, this had to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
He broke the kiss and pulled out of her grip when she tried to pull him back to her mouth. Leaning away, he let the warm water wash the soap off her skin. “I’d better tuck you in and get home so we can both get some sleep.”
The disappointment that flashed over her face shot a hot stream of panic down his chest. “You’re leaving?”
He lifted her by the waist while bending his knees to pull out of her. Sensation streamed over his cock, spread deep into his hips, and Wes groaned with the pleasure of it. “Do you usually have guys sleep over?”
She tilted her head to the side and looked up at him with the same alluring glance she’d used the other night at the club. “I never have guys sleep over. I’ve never even brought a guy here.”
His chest tightened, and Wes’s breath left his lungs in a slow sweep. His mind warred—one side telling him he should stay and cinch that third link in a chain of firsts for her. Another voice whispered that leaving like this made their sex just sex, when he knew he wanted more. Yet another told him that if he wanted this to be different for her, different than her previous encounters with other men, she had to be the one wanting him again. He needed to maintain control—because she was the one who held it with every other man.
That didn’t calm his fear of leaving her alone to rationalize why they should never do this again. Or the sizzle of panic working its way over every nerve, urging him to stay.
He cupped her face and lifted her gaze to his. “What do you want, Rubi?”
Her hand stroked his shoulder, his bicep, her fingers curling around his forearm. Her face was flushed, her lids heavy, lips swollen. And he was growing hard again. Those beautiful eyes searched his. Then a furrow appeared between them, and she shook her head, her gaze dropping away. “I…don’t know.”
His heart dropped. But it didn’t break. This was a minor setback. No big deal.
At least that was what he told himself.
He turned off the water, sidestepped her, and pushed the door to the glass enclosure open. Reaching for a cabinet, he found towels and pulled one out. Wrapping the fluffy terry around her shoulders, he used the ends to dry her body, kissing his way down until he was on his knees in front of her. Her belly was flat, that diamond stud sparkling in her dark skin. Her waist curved in, then flared gently at her hips. A tiny triangle of dark, cropped hair decorated her pussy. He couldn’t begin to put her physical beauty or sexual attractiveness into words. He only knew he could look at her forever.
Fuck. Walking out that door was going to kill him.
But he settled the towel around her shoulders and pulled another from the cabinet for himself. After drying off quickly, he pulled on his pants, tucking his new erection away with a wince.
Rubi chuckled. She had her towel tight around her body now, her arms crossed, the nail of one thumb between her teeth. And the kittenish grin she shot over his body almost took him back to his knees.
“I’ve got that ugly early call tomorrow,” he forced himself to say. “And sweetheart, you wrung me out. I’m going to head home.”
He swung his arm around her shoulders and walked her out of the bathroom. As soon as they entered the bedroom, Rodie uncurled from his spot on Rubi’s bed and jumped down to follow. Wes put his hand down to pet his sleek head.
“I miss having a dog,” he said, trying to ignore how amazing he felt. How satisfied, how comfortable, how…high. He felt like Rubi was in his bloodstream.
“Why aren’t you pushing to stay?” she asked, her voice matter-of-fact. “The wild-child type isn’t as exceptional as you thought?”
He paused in the living room by the sofa and took her arms, turning her to face him. “Are you serious?”
Her gaze darted away, and she shrugged. “It’s not a secret that I’m not your type. Who knows what those sweet girls give you that I don’t.”
Her show of insecurity was a sweet blow to his chest. “Rubi—”
“Friends, right?” She laid her warm palms against his belly and lifted her eyes to his again. A thin shell veiling her expression. “No hard feelings if you…if this…isn’t what you want.”
Isn’t what he wanted? Wes’s brain tilted. What the…?
Then he searched her eyes again, and he saw it—vulnerability. Such deep vulnerability, Lexi’s words about Rubi’s childhood flooded back.
“The fact that she’s pushing you away tells me just how important you are to her. Maybe too important.”
His chest constricted again, so strong it choked off his air. Still holding her arms, he dropped his head to get himself together. He wanted to jerk her against him and smother her with all the affection and attention she missed growing up. Yet, he was sure that would be the very quickest path to losing her.
When he met her eyes again, he could clearly see the brave front she’d pulled up, one thinly veiling hurt beneath. Her lips parted, and Wes knew what she was going to say. Knew what she was going to do. She was going to push him away out of fear.
He pressed his fingers to her lips. Took a deep breath. “You are more woman than all my others put together. Your sexual confidence is the ultimate turn-on. And it lets me feel just as secure, just as free. More open than I have with anyone. Ever.” He grinned to lighten it up. “I’ve certainly never considered smearing ice cream all over a woman.”
The fear softened, and she smiled before lowering her gaze. “That was definitely…different.” Her tone hinted that it had been different in a thrilling way.
Yes. This was what he wanted. He wanted to be different to her. Unique. Not someone she could replace with anyone she randomly picked up at the club. She couldn’t just turn her back on him now and pretend things hadn’t changed between them. Or even inside herself. A good start.
Now he just had to figure out how to hold on to this connection.
“But I get the feeling you might pull back into yourself if you have to cuddle with me all night—’cause, yeah, I’m a snuggler.”
That made her laugh, which pleased him.
“And I know it’s going to be hard to believe”—he put his hands up in a stop gesture—“but I’m not this beautiful in the morning. This”—he gestured to the bruise around his eye—“takes a lot of work to maintain.”
Still laughing, she leaned into him and pressed her face to his pec with a kiss.
He ran a hand down her hair, closed his eyes, and kissed her head. “I’m loving what we’ve got going here, baby,” he said, softly, seriously. “I don’t want to push you too hard, too fast.”
“You’re right,” she said, muffled against his skin, nodding. Then she pulled away, crossed her arms, and pulled herself up. “Thanks for the triple orgasm.” She waved toward the kitchen. “Now get your sexy ass out of here.”
Wes burst out laughing and pulled her close again. Joy pumped his ego. He just needed to be patient, give her room, and let her believe falling for him was all her idea.
He took her hand and glanced at the storyboard. “How’s the app coming?”
“Good. I gave the crash app to Jax for some tests. I just started on the fight app, but I’m falling behind on that NSA project, so I might have to put a hold on that for a little while.”
Guilt tripped in as he reached for the rig on the sofa. “You know I’m going to pay you for your help with the rig, right? And if you don’t have time, then…you don’t. It’s okay.”
Her mouth quirked. “I can always squeeze in a little programming for a friend. I’ll charge you the same thing I charge Jax.”
Nice comparison to yank him right back to earth. Friends.
“Right.” He nodded and started toward the kitchen sliders. “And on that note…”
Wes unlocked the door and stepped into the night. The heat built up in his body made the cool wind feel heavenly. Rubi leaned down, grabbing Rodie’s collar to keep him from following Wes.
“Sorry, baby,” Rubi said, petting him. “I know he’s cool, but you’re all mine.”
The simple act of standing outside her house kicked up nerves in his belly. He forced them into the background. “See you at the set tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try. I’m pretty backed up with work.”
His gut tightened. He felt her slipping away. Started to wonder if this was it. If she’d had her one time with him and he’d never get another chance. But he nodded. Give her space, asshole. She leaned her head against the edge of the door, planted the toes of one bare foot on the top of the other. Her lids were growing heavy.
God, he wanted to grab her, slide under the covers with her, and tangle his body with hers as she fell asleep. He had to fight himself not to ask her to come to the set for lunch. Not to ask her out for tomorrow night.
“Okay,” he said instead. “But Troy’s going to light me on fire. If you don’t come by, you’ll miss me acting like a human torch.”
She winced. “Now there’s incentive.” Lifting her head from the door, she stepped back. “Later, dude.”
Wes forced a chuckle at the purposeful get-lost-before-you-do-something-you’ll-regret message in those words and said, “Later.”
Within half a mile of her house, all his doubts crept in. All the excitement and connection they’d experienced faded. And his hopes for starting here and developing something more started a downward slide.
By the time he’d reached Jax’s house, the complex knot tightening his chest made him realize everyone else might just be right.
He might not be cut out for this kind of relationship.
Twelve
Rubi stepped into the grand house overlooking the canyons of the Hollywood Hills—the ninth house Jax and Lexi had looked at buying over the last two weeks. Jax and Lexi were either alone in the house or one of them had brought the Realtor because only Jax’s truck and Lexi’s BMW—the one Jax had recently bought for her—sat in the driveway. But the house was quiet, as if it were empty.
She glanced around the foyer and the open living room beyond. Jax sure knew how to pick ’em. This was a showplace with marble floors, soaring ceilings, thick cream carpet, and French doors lining the walls, leading out onto a deck looking out over all of Hollywood and Los Angeles beyond.
Her hand came up to his face, the touch sweet as she curled her fingers and ran her knuckles across his jaw. Her eyes slid closed, and she kissed him back, slow, sweet, her tongue lazily making blood pool at the base of his cock again.
He knew he needed to be the one to leave before she suggested it. He needed to leave her while she still wanted him. Which, by the way her hand was tightening in his hair, would be now.
Damn, this had to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
He broke the kiss and pulled out of her grip when she tried to pull him back to her mouth. Leaning away, he let the warm water wash the soap off her skin. “I’d better tuck you in and get home so we can both get some sleep.”
The disappointment that flashed over her face shot a hot stream of panic down his chest. “You’re leaving?”
He lifted her by the waist while bending his knees to pull out of her. Sensation streamed over his cock, spread deep into his hips, and Wes groaned with the pleasure of it. “Do you usually have guys sleep over?”
She tilted her head to the side and looked up at him with the same alluring glance she’d used the other night at the club. “I never have guys sleep over. I’ve never even brought a guy here.”
His chest tightened, and Wes’s breath left his lungs in a slow sweep. His mind warred—one side telling him he should stay and cinch that third link in a chain of firsts for her. Another voice whispered that leaving like this made their sex just sex, when he knew he wanted more. Yet another told him that if he wanted this to be different for her, different than her previous encounters with other men, she had to be the one wanting him again. He needed to maintain control—because she was the one who held it with every other man.
That didn’t calm his fear of leaving her alone to rationalize why they should never do this again. Or the sizzle of panic working its way over every nerve, urging him to stay.
He cupped her face and lifted her gaze to his. “What do you want, Rubi?”
Her hand stroked his shoulder, his bicep, her fingers curling around his forearm. Her face was flushed, her lids heavy, lips swollen. And he was growing hard again. Those beautiful eyes searched his. Then a furrow appeared between them, and she shook her head, her gaze dropping away. “I…don’t know.”
His heart dropped. But it didn’t break. This was a minor setback. No big deal.
At least that was what he told himself.
He turned off the water, sidestepped her, and pushed the door to the glass enclosure open. Reaching for a cabinet, he found towels and pulled one out. Wrapping the fluffy terry around her shoulders, he used the ends to dry her body, kissing his way down until he was on his knees in front of her. Her belly was flat, that diamond stud sparkling in her dark skin. Her waist curved in, then flared gently at her hips. A tiny triangle of dark, cropped hair decorated her pussy. He couldn’t begin to put her physical beauty or sexual attractiveness into words. He only knew he could look at her forever.
Fuck. Walking out that door was going to kill him.
But he settled the towel around her shoulders and pulled another from the cabinet for himself. After drying off quickly, he pulled on his pants, tucking his new erection away with a wince.
Rubi chuckled. She had her towel tight around her body now, her arms crossed, the nail of one thumb between her teeth. And the kittenish grin she shot over his body almost took him back to his knees.
“I’ve got that ugly early call tomorrow,” he forced himself to say. “And sweetheart, you wrung me out. I’m going to head home.”
He swung his arm around her shoulders and walked her out of the bathroom. As soon as they entered the bedroom, Rodie uncurled from his spot on Rubi’s bed and jumped down to follow. Wes put his hand down to pet his sleek head.
“I miss having a dog,” he said, trying to ignore how amazing he felt. How satisfied, how comfortable, how…high. He felt like Rubi was in his bloodstream.
“Why aren’t you pushing to stay?” she asked, her voice matter-of-fact. “The wild-child type isn’t as exceptional as you thought?”
He paused in the living room by the sofa and took her arms, turning her to face him. “Are you serious?”
Her gaze darted away, and she shrugged. “It’s not a secret that I’m not your type. Who knows what those sweet girls give you that I don’t.”
Her show of insecurity was a sweet blow to his chest. “Rubi—”
“Friends, right?” She laid her warm palms against his belly and lifted her eyes to his again. A thin shell veiling her expression. “No hard feelings if you…if this…isn’t what you want.”
Isn’t what he wanted? Wes’s brain tilted. What the…?
Then he searched her eyes again, and he saw it—vulnerability. Such deep vulnerability, Lexi’s words about Rubi’s childhood flooded back.
“The fact that she’s pushing you away tells me just how important you are to her. Maybe too important.”
His chest constricted again, so strong it choked off his air. Still holding her arms, he dropped his head to get himself together. He wanted to jerk her against him and smother her with all the affection and attention she missed growing up. Yet, he was sure that would be the very quickest path to losing her.
When he met her eyes again, he could clearly see the brave front she’d pulled up, one thinly veiling hurt beneath. Her lips parted, and Wes knew what she was going to say. Knew what she was going to do. She was going to push him away out of fear.
He pressed his fingers to her lips. Took a deep breath. “You are more woman than all my others put together. Your sexual confidence is the ultimate turn-on. And it lets me feel just as secure, just as free. More open than I have with anyone. Ever.” He grinned to lighten it up. “I’ve certainly never considered smearing ice cream all over a woman.”
The fear softened, and she smiled before lowering her gaze. “That was definitely…different.” Her tone hinted that it had been different in a thrilling way.
Yes. This was what he wanted. He wanted to be different to her. Unique. Not someone she could replace with anyone she randomly picked up at the club. She couldn’t just turn her back on him now and pretend things hadn’t changed between them. Or even inside herself. A good start.
Now he just had to figure out how to hold on to this connection.
“But I get the feeling you might pull back into yourself if you have to cuddle with me all night—’cause, yeah, I’m a snuggler.”
That made her laugh, which pleased him.
“And I know it’s going to be hard to believe”—he put his hands up in a stop gesture—“but I’m not this beautiful in the morning. This”—he gestured to the bruise around his eye—“takes a lot of work to maintain.”
Still laughing, she leaned into him and pressed her face to his pec with a kiss.
He ran a hand down her hair, closed his eyes, and kissed her head. “I’m loving what we’ve got going here, baby,” he said, softly, seriously. “I don’t want to push you too hard, too fast.”
“You’re right,” she said, muffled against his skin, nodding. Then she pulled away, crossed her arms, and pulled herself up. “Thanks for the triple orgasm.” She waved toward the kitchen. “Now get your sexy ass out of here.”
Wes burst out laughing and pulled her close again. Joy pumped his ego. He just needed to be patient, give her room, and let her believe falling for him was all her idea.
He took her hand and glanced at the storyboard. “How’s the app coming?”
“Good. I gave the crash app to Jax for some tests. I just started on the fight app, but I’m falling behind on that NSA project, so I might have to put a hold on that for a little while.”
Guilt tripped in as he reached for the rig on the sofa. “You know I’m going to pay you for your help with the rig, right? And if you don’t have time, then…you don’t. It’s okay.”
Her mouth quirked. “I can always squeeze in a little programming for a friend. I’ll charge you the same thing I charge Jax.”
Nice comparison to yank him right back to earth. Friends.
“Right.” He nodded and started toward the kitchen sliders. “And on that note…”
Wes unlocked the door and stepped into the night. The heat built up in his body made the cool wind feel heavenly. Rubi leaned down, grabbing Rodie’s collar to keep him from following Wes.
“Sorry, baby,” Rubi said, petting him. “I know he’s cool, but you’re all mine.”
The simple act of standing outside her house kicked up nerves in his belly. He forced them into the background. “See you at the set tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try. I’m pretty backed up with work.”
His gut tightened. He felt her slipping away. Started to wonder if this was it. If she’d had her one time with him and he’d never get another chance. But he nodded. Give her space, asshole. She leaned her head against the edge of the door, planted the toes of one bare foot on the top of the other. Her lids were growing heavy.
God, he wanted to grab her, slide under the covers with her, and tangle his body with hers as she fell asleep. He had to fight himself not to ask her to come to the set for lunch. Not to ask her out for tomorrow night.
“Okay,” he said instead. “But Troy’s going to light me on fire. If you don’t come by, you’ll miss me acting like a human torch.”
She winced. “Now there’s incentive.” Lifting her head from the door, she stepped back. “Later, dude.”
Wes forced a chuckle at the purposeful get-lost-before-you-do-something-you’ll-regret message in those words and said, “Later.”
Within half a mile of her house, all his doubts crept in. All the excitement and connection they’d experienced faded. And his hopes for starting here and developing something more started a downward slide.
By the time he’d reached Jax’s house, the complex knot tightening his chest made him realize everyone else might just be right.
He might not be cut out for this kind of relationship.
Twelve
Rubi stepped into the grand house overlooking the canyons of the Hollywood Hills—the ninth house Jax and Lexi had looked at buying over the last two weeks. Jax and Lexi were either alone in the house or one of them had brought the Realtor because only Jax’s truck and Lexi’s BMW—the one Jax had recently bought for her—sat in the driveway. But the house was quiet, as if it were empty.
She glanced around the foyer and the open living room beyond. Jax sure knew how to pick ’em. This was a showplace with marble floors, soaring ceilings, thick cream carpet, and French doors lining the walls, leading out onto a deck looking out over all of Hollywood and Los Angeles beyond.
