Page 35 of Beautiful Rush
“I feel like you took away my power,” I said.
He glanced at me. “Do you want to go out with this guy?”
“No. But that’s not the point.”
“You were just teasing me to make me jealous?”
Was I? Was I mean and childish and petty? Did I want to arouse his jealousy? That wasn’t really my style. I wasn’t interested in playing those games and I would hate it if he did that to me. “No. I was trying to tell my brother that the choice was mine, not his.”
He thought about that for a minute. “Okay.” He nodded. “I’m taking you on a date.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, his eyes still glued to the laptop screen.
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Keira Shaughnessy, will you go on a date with me?”
“You can’t take me on a date.” I ran my hand over the smooth skin of his chest and traced my fingertips over the ridges of his abs—one, two, three, four, five, six—he was lean and lithe, and I loved touching every inch of his body.
How had it come to this? I was the girl who hadn’t wanted a relationship. He was the guy who assured me he wasn’t looking for one. Yet, now here we were. In a relationship I couldn’t tell anyone about. We ate late-night dinners together. Watched movies. Talked and laughed and argued. Showered together. All without leaving my apartment.
“I can and I will,” he said, the set of his jaw stubborn. “We’re going.”
My hand moved lower, to the bulge in his boxer briefs. Palming his cock through the fabric, I pressed my thumb against the slit. He hissed and pushed the laptop aside, peeled off his boxer briefs and pulled me on top of him so I was straddling his hips.
“Oh. You want this?” I asked, grinding my body against his. “Think you can handle me?”
“Oh, I can handle you.”
He ripped off the T-shirt I was wearing, and his hands moved to my waist, lifting me up. Positioning him at my entrance, I sank down slowly until he filled me to the hilt. I rolled my hips, grinding my body against his. He gripped my hips to hold me in place, stilling my movements, a pained look on his face.
“Don’t move. Just…stay still.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Is this okay? Without protection?”
I hadn’t even thought about it, but we were safe. On the birth control front, anyway. On the emotional front, I couldn’t be too sure. “I’m on the pill.”
“You feel so fucking good.”
“So, do you.” I leaned forward to kiss him.
We kissed each other like we were starving, and this was our favorite food and our last meal.
He pushed me onto my back and pinned my wrists to the mattress, his face hovering inches above mine as he thrust into me. “I don’t want you to go on a date with anyone else.” Thrust. “I don’t even want you to fucking think about another man.” Thrust.
My legs encircled his waist and I lifted my hips so he could go deeper. “I only want your magic dick. Don’t even think about letting another woman touch you or kiss you or even look at you.”
“I’m yours. All fucking yours.” The words were a growl.
I clawed his back and he marked my neck. We fucked like wild animals, thrust for thrust a play for dominance and survival. We gave as good as we got.
Our love was the crazy kind. The kind of love that makes you feel more alive, teetering on the edge of something beautiful and dangerous. Like driving too fast on a road with hairpin turns on a steep rocky cliff. It scared me sometimes. Because I was me and he was brave enough to fall for me, even though I’d warned him it was a bad idea. Deep down, I knew that a girl like me could never have anything real and good. My past would forever chase me, and somehow, someway, he would pay the price. I didn’t know how or when or why but I could feel something bad coming.
Four days later, on the afternoon before my date with Deacon, a link on the chain around my neck broke. When I had felt that the cross was missing from around my neck, I’d panicked. It was a bad omen. Bad juju. The end of the world was approaching. My loved ones were all going to die a fiery death and end up in the pits of hell. But the cross wasn’t lost; it had just slipped down inside my T-shirt and I was able to retrieve it and identify the problem. It was an easy fix, and it only took Pete a few seconds to tighten the link with a set of small pliers. Pete had a soft spot for me and treated me like a daughter, but not in a creepy or controlling way. In a nice way, like asking how I was doing and reminding me to take a lunch break on the days when I got so immersed in work that I forgot to eat.
“Good as new,” he assured me as I looped the chain around my neck and tucked the cross inside my T-shirt.
I thanked him and went back to work, laughing at my own silly superstitions. But just to be safe, I called my brothers and Eden and Ava. They were busy working, they were all fine, no major disasters to report and Deacon and I were going on our date tonight, so everything was right with the world.
