MOVING ON(14)

Peter nodded seeing them all out until only Edward remained.

“Take care of her, mate. She looks like she’s been hurt one time too many,” Edward said.

“I will.”

His friend glanced over his shoulder but then left. Frowning, Peter watched them all go.

Turning back into his home, he headed for the kitchen. Rose was sat down waiting.

“They’re all your friends. The outcasts you talk about?” she asked.

“Yeah, your family have reported that you’ve been kidnapped.”

She handed his jacket back to him. “I didn’t think of putting anything on. I’m not used to men staring at me like that.”

“You’re a desirable woman, Rose. Men are going to want to look at you.”

Rose shook her head. “I don’t see that, but thank you for saying it anyway.”

Taking her hand in his, Peter caught her chin in his other hand. “I’m not lying to you, Rose. I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m telling you the truth. I mean what I say.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not used to it.”

He dropped her hands and removed his hand from her face, but he didn’t leave. Peter couldn’t move away from her.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Stand up.” Peter found himself ordering her without meaning to. He went to open his mouth to speak. The words he was looking for were held back.

She stood up. Her head tilted back looking up at him.

“Are you okay, Peter?”

He didn’t feel okay. Staring down into her beautiful face all he wanted to do was lift her in his arms and carry her up to bed. “Did you want Brad touching you? Being with you?”

“No, I can’t stand him. He makes my skin crawl.”

Reaching out, he pushed some of her hair off her face, stroking her cheek with his knuckles.

“What about me?” he asked. “Did you like my kiss?”

She nodded. “Yes, I loved your kiss. I like it when you touch me.”

He tilted her head back and leaned forward. “Do you want me to kiss you now?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her voice was so soft like a whisper.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

****

Was this really happening? Rose watched his head move, and seconds later his mouth was on hers. At first the caress of his lips was light, and then something changed. His hands sank into her hair, fisting the strands. Her nipples hardened, and her pussy grew wet with need. She ached all over, and a fire was burning bright.

The kiss Peter had given her in the library had been the only thing to keep her stable throughout it all. She was weak where it came to him, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. He tilted her head back, exposing her neck, and he plunged his tongue inside her mouth.

She moaned, meeting his tongue with her own. Her heart pounded inside her chest so hard that she thought it was going to crash out of her chest.

He pressed her against the kitchen counter, holding her in place with his hands in her hair. Rose met his strokes and wished she knew what she was doing.

“Please,” she said, moaning. Peter broke the contact to press kisses down her neck. He sucked on her exposed neck. The night shirt she wore was too big and had fallen down one arm.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said.

She’d never thought herself as beautiful before. In Peter’s arms, she felt it.

“Peter.” His name came out as a groan. Nibbling her lip she gasped when he pushed her nightshirt down exposing one of her breasts.

Refusing him was out of the question. She was so turned on, and she would do everything he asked.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he said.

“Please, don’t stop.” She lifted her hands up touching his arms. In all the time they’d known each other they’d never really been together intimately. She couldn’t recall really touching him.

“This isn’t right,” he said. Peter still held her arms, and her breast was still exposed. His gaze went from her breast to her eyes then back again. She saw the fight he was having.

“This is so right. I’m not afraid with you, Peter. Please, I want you to be my first,” she said.

The instant the words left her lips, Rose felt him withdraw from her. She cursed her own stupidity as he looked at her. He drew her nightshirt back up, gave her one last lingering kiss, and backed away.

He didn’t say a word as he made her a sandwich. She ate in silence aware of his emotional and physical withdrawal.

“I need to go to the club for an hour. Will you be okay by yourself?” he asked.

She wanted to ask why. Less than a couple of hours ago he’d told her he wouldn’t leave her.