Emilie Rose - The Jarrods - Inheritance

“Don’t apologize. Your enthusiasm was great. Damn great,” he said brusquely. “I had a hard time walking away from you.”

Her heart faltered. “You did? I thought you didn’t want me.”

He expelled a harsh breath. “Did my body feel like I didn’t want you?”

She remembered the tense cords of his body burning her flesh through her nightshirt. “No,” she croaked, then had to clear her throat before speaking again. “But what do I know anyway? I thought a man could easily turn it off and on.” Carl certainly had been able to put a stop to anything beyond a few kisses.

“I’m not made of stone like that other guy,” Blake scoffed, reading her mind, but his voice had gentled. “And all this goes to prove to me that I did the right thing this morning. I’m the experienced one here and that means I have a responsibility to you. I’m glad now I didn’t take something from you that you might regret giving later on.”

“You mean my virginity?” Her heart rose in her chest at the respect he’d afforded her.

“Yes.”

“But I’m not a virgin,” she pointed out.

“I know that now.”

He’d rejected her all for nothing? It was admirable, but … “You should have asked me at the time.”

He pursed his mouth. “It’s not only that,” he said, sending her stomach plummeting.

“I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” He clenched his jaw. “You were so damn generous, Samantha. You were giving me everything and I was worried that you … er … might look more into this than you should. I just wasn’t sure you could handle any emotional involvement.”

She appreciated where he was coming from with this, but her heart still managed to drop at his words. What was it about her that every man felt they had to warn her off?

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’m not planning on repeating history and losing my heart to anyone in the future.”

His eyes searched hers. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Suddenly she felt all-knowing. “Maybe it’s you who can’t handle it, Blake.”

He looked startled, then scowled. “I admit it. I can’t. And to be blunt, I don’t want to even try.” He paused. “But this isn’t about me. I’m thinking of you , Samantha. Not me.”

Her heart tilted. She appreciated his honesty but she could look after herself. And to be equally as honest, how could she give him up without a fight now that she knew he wanted her?

“Blake, thank you for that but you’re doing me an injustice. I’m a grown woman. I know sex doesn’t always mean commitment. I have needs and I know my own mind. I know what I want, and while I’m here …” She looked him straight in the eye. “What I want is you .”

“Hell.”

She flinched. “I’m sorry if that makes things more difficult.”

“Don’t be. It’s your directness, that’s all. It blows me away.”

She felt a rush of warmth. “I do want you, Blake. Very much.”

“Your head—”

“Is on the mend.” She paused, preempting him. “And yes, I’m sure.”

His eyes flared sensuously. “Then do me a favor.”

She moistened her mouth. “What?”

“Go upstairs and put your nightshirt on for me,” he said, his voice turning heavy with huskiness.

She blinked in surprise. “My nightshirt?”

“You looked so sexy in it this morning. I’ve been thinking about it all day. It’s been driving me crazy.”

Sudden awareness danced in her veins. “Does this mean we’re going to—”

“Have sex? Yes.” A tiny pulse beat in his cheekbone. “But only if you’re sure you can handle a purely sexual relationship,” he said, giving her one last out.

Excitement washed over her. He still wanted her.

She nodded. “I can handle it, Blake.”

“Then go change.”

She got to her feet. It was now or never. And right now never definitely wasn’t an option.

Samantha couldn’t deny she was nervous as she came out of her room in her nightshirt and descended the staircase in a pair of high-heeled gold sandals she’d put on at the last moment. The bottom button was missing from her nightshirt, but the material covered her and what did it matter now anyway?

Blake had turned the lamps off and stood by the log fire, watching her in the flickering light with the same look he’d had on his face last Saturday night when she’d dressed for her date with Joel. She’d been trying to capture Blake’s attention that night to make him jealous. Tonight she’d definitely caught more than his attention. Tonight they both knew they would be a part of each other. The power of that thought stunned her.

“Come over here, Samantha,” he said huskily when she reached the bottom step. The air throbbed between them and she quivered, moving forward without a falter as she made her away across the carpet to him.

His blue eyes moved slowly down over her, and something flared in them. “You’re still missing the button,” he said, as if to himself.

She blinked in surprise as she reached him. “You knew it was missing?”

“Oh, yes. It came off this morning in the bathroom … when I lifted you up on the sink.”

She could feel herself go hot all over. “Oh. I hadn’t realized.”

“I know you didn’t,” he said, with a pointed look. He pulled her up against him. “God, you’re so damn sexy, Samantha Thompson,” he murmured, gathering her close. “My very sexy lady.” His body was hard and she trembled. “Now, does that feel like I can turn myself off so easily?” he said thickly, his breath stirring over her face.

The solid warmth of him pressed against her stomach. “No.” The word emerged on a whisper.

“There’s no going back this time,” he said, reassuring that this time he would not walk away.

The deepest longing stirred within her. “Kiss me, Blake.”

He did.

Once … twice … long and slow …

And then he eased back and looked deep into her eyes.

She looked back at him.

Blue on blue.

“I want you in front of the fire,” he murmured, sending her pulse jumping all over the place. “Here. Lie down on the cushions.” She saw he had placed two big cushions near their feet. “Be careful of your head,” he said, helping to lower her to the thick rug, so sweet and caring. She wanted to say it was too late, that she was about to lose her head anyway, only the words wouldn’t come.

Soon she was lying there in her nightshirt and her gold sandals and he was standing over her in the firelight, his gaze scanning the full length of her, before stopping at the junction to her thighs. “You left your panties on,” he mused throatily, telling her the front of her nightshirt must have fallen open at the hem.

She moistened her mouth. “I wanted to take them off, but …”

“I’ll be happy to do the honors …” he said, and her heartbeat quickened, “but in a minute.”

All at once she wanted him so much. “Take off your clothes first, Blake. Don’t make me wait.”

His eyes darkened and he dragged his sweater up over his head, along with his T-shirt, tossing them aside. He kicked off his shoes and his hands went to his belt….

He hesitated.

“Your trousers, too.” She was desperate to see him fully as a man for the first time, the thought making her lightheaded.

Another second, then his hands dropped away from the buckle. “Not yet.” He dropped to his knees beside her, and let his gaze slide along the full length of her, like he was committing her to memory.

But his bare chest beckoned her and she reached out to touch him, her fingers tingling as she came into contact with the dark whorls of hair over hard muscle. He groaned and slammed his hand over hers, stopping it from moving.