The Look of Love (The Sullivans #1)(23)
Author: Bella Andre

She made a soft moan, then, that had him throbbing dangerously in his jeans.

There was nothing feigned about her response. Chloe was pure sensuality, just as he’d known she would be. He’d watched her come in the bathtub, and yet, being a part of that pleasure tonight, being the reason she was drowning in desire, put what he’d been feeling for her in another stratosphere entirely.

They’d talked about being friends—she’d told him how much she needed that—but he’d spent the last twenty-four hours in a constant state of arousal for her, and he couldn’t stop himself from bunching her skirt up his hands and running one hand up her bare thigh.

Turning his attention to her other breast, his mouth closed down over the peak just as his fingers found her panties, damp with arousal.

“Yes,” she gasped as he tugged on her breast with his lips, moving his hand up so that he could slide in beneath the thin fabric of her panties.

Worries, concerns, reservations—they all flew out the window as he found her with his fingers. She was practically bucking in his arms, arching into his mouth, widening her legs to give him better access to every part of her. Moments later, Chloe was crying out and her muscles were clamping down on him in a beautiful, out-of-control rhythm, a living, breathing orgasm beneath his mouth and hands.

Her release seemed to go on forever, from one peak to the next, and Chase felt like the luckiest guy on the planet. He wanted to do nothing from here on out but make her come. Watch her come. Listen to her come.

He’d give up everything for her, if he had to. And it would all be worth it, just to be witness to such overarching, all-consuming pleasure.

He’d noticed how beautifully she came in the bathtub the night before, but it was nothing like experiencing it first-hand.

Amazingly, when she finally settled back down in his arms, instead of being sated, she looked up at him and said, “Please, Chase. More. I need more.”

He knew just what she was asking for—she wanted him to take her, right then and there on his brother’s porch in the middle of the vines.

Chase had never wanted anything so bad.

Only, when she’d been asking for more, her words had slurred together. Just the slightest bit.

But he heard it.

Worse, her eyes were unfocused. Blurry. And not just because of her orgasm.

Chase didn’t want to have to ask himself if she was drunk, if she wasn’t totally in control of what she was doing with him out on his brother’s porch. He wanted to believe that the slurring had everything to do with how good he was making her feel and not the number of times her wineglass had been refilled. He could do anything he wanted to her right now, turn her around on the balcony so that her ass was pressed up against his groin while he lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties. He could fill his hands with the perfect, heavy weight of her br**sts while he slid into her from behind. And both of them could get what they desperately needed.

But, damn it, he just couldn’t do it.

Not when he knew he’d never—ever—be able to live with himself if this went even further and Chloe woke up in the morning not knowing what she’d done.

He couldn’t be one more man to take something away from her.

He needed to stop this.

Now.

Not wanting to startle her, he slowly moved his hand from between her legs, letting the dress fall back down. A moment later he was pulling up the bodice, covering up br**sts that he would kill to taste again.

“What are you doing? Why are you stopping?”

“I think it’s time to get you home to bed.”

Her mouth moved into a sensual pout. “I’m not tired, Chase. Not yet.”

Sweet Lord, it was hard not to take another kiss from that mouth. Even harder not to rip off her dress and take her right there on the wood-plank decking.

“You’re lovely, Chloe, so damned lovely, but I can’t take advantage of you like this.”

The pout turned stubborn. “You’re not taking advantage of me. I’m the one who kissed you, remember?”

This was even harder than he’d thought it would be. Because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings. He didn’t want her to think he didn’t desire her like crazy.

“I want this more than you can imagine, but I need you to be completely with me.”

“I was with you.” She lifted her mouth back to his, whispering, “I’m still with you,” against his lips.

“No, sweetheart.” He dragged his mouth away from hers. “I don’t want you to look back at this tomorrow morning and hate me because I took advantage of you when you were drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!”

“You’re not completely sober, either,” he made himself say in a gentle voice.

She looked crushed. Completely crushed.

Hating it, Chase said, “You don’t know how hard this is for me to do.”

Her steps were mostly steady as she turned and began to walk away from him, but every now and then she seemed to catch and right herself on her heels.

Chase knew he was right to have done what he did.

But it didn’t make him feel any better. Not when he could feel Chloe’s hurt and embarrassment radiating from her during the silent walk back to the guest house.

She didn’t so much as look at him as she waited for him to open the front door. Even though he was desperate to reach for her, to pull her against him, he let her walk past.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

She stopped, then, looking at him over her shoulder for a moment. Her bright eyes were dulled now. Without saying a word, she walked into her bedroom and closed the door with a soft click.

And as he got into an ice-cold shower and took his shaft in hand, even as he focused on the mental picture of her br**sts in his hands, even as he remembered the taste of her on his tongue, and the feel of her aroused, slick flesh pushing and squeezing against his fingers, Chase couldn’t stop wondering when the hell honor had become his goddamned duty in life.

What was wrong with him?

He’d had a warm, wet, and willing woman in his arms just minutes ago.

And he’d walked away from her.

Chapter Eight

Chloe packed her bag first thing in the morning and put her jeans and T-shirt back on.

Last night had been too close. She’d wanted Chase too much.

Which was why she couldn’t stay here any longer.

A new basket of pastries and fruit was on the counter for her again and pride should have dictated that she walk right by it, but that would have been plain stupid. She didn’t have the money for a taxi. Which meant she was going to be walking out of here, down long country roads until she could find a bus stop.