When I’m Gone (Rosemary Beach #11)(27)
Author: Abbi Glines

It seemed like forever before he finally turned around and looked at me. I had pulled my knees up in front of me and wrapped my arms around them. Something was wrong. I was waiting to hear him tell me what that was, exactly.

“I’m sorry. I . . . you’re . . .” He stopped and laughed at himself, then shook his head in frustration. “I want you naked, Reese. I want my hands and mouth all over your sweet little body. I want to bend you over and kiss the freckle I know is right under your left butt cheek, the one I saw the first time I met you. I was greeted with your perfect ass bent over on display, and I’ve dreamed about that ass ever since. But more than that, I want you to always feel safe with me. I want to take it easy and slow with you, so I never have to see that haunted look in your eyes or the terror in your expression again. So we may have more moments when you press that”—he closed his eyes and breathed hard through his nose—“when you press against me and touch me in ways that drive me so crazy I’m afraid I will snap and touch you where you’re not ready yet.”

Hearing him tell me that he wanted to kiss me and touch me naked had my heart rate up again. It produced a mixture of fear and excitement. The sensation between my legs was still there. There was a needy ache that reminded me of a time when I was much younger and a guy I’d had a crush on at school cornered me and touched me, calling me beautiful.

After he’d ignored me and let his girlfriend call me horrible names the next day, that ache had never returned. Then other things happened that made any excitement in that part of my body die. Just remembering the past doused the feelings left behind from being in Mase’s arms.

I was relieved that the ache was gone and sad that this kissing session with Mase was over when I stood up. “Then I guess it’s time for breakfast,” I said, forcing a smile.

Mase was studying me carefully, and I didn’t want him to think for a minute that I was upset with him. He was doing this for me. He cared enough to put his own needs aside and be gentle with me. It made me love him even more.

“Do you understand?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

A real smile formed on my lips as I looked at him. “I understand. Thank you. Things like this only make me trust you more.”

Mase

This was not how I wanted to spend my last night with Reese. I wasn’t sure when I would get another weekend to come stay with her. I had spent most of the morning staring at the ceiling while I held her, thinking of ways to persuade her to come to Texas. I was ready to move her into my house. That’s how far gone I was, and we hadn’t even had sex yet.

Luckily, Tripp Newark Montgomery’s fiancée, Bethy, wasn’t one of the uptight Rosemary Beach females who made everything black-tie. She had worked at the Kerrington Club with her aunt for years. This party had been planned under her supervision, so we were all dressed for a party on the beach.

I glanced down at Reese, who was holding on to my arm tightly. She was wearing a bikini under her sundress, and I could see the straps peeking out. Swimsuits were the suggested attire. After the groundbreaking ceremony for Tripp’s brand-new five-star hotel, everyone was moving to the Kerrington Club pool, which was more like a tropical island with waterfalls and palm trees.

“It seems like my wife can get you to do her bidding, too,” Grant Carter said with a smirk, as he walked up to us. “Hello, Reese. Glad to see my brother-in-law has good taste.”

“Hello, Mr. Carter,” she said, her voice giving away how nervous she was.

Grant frowned. “You’re dating Mase and having cookie breaks with my wife. You can call me Grant. Please.” He turned his attention back to me. “You staying in town long?”

Reese tensed beside me but only for a second. If I wasn’t so attuned to her every move, I would have missed it. “I have to leave tomorrow. I left things in a bit of a mess,” I admitted.

Grant chuckled, and his eyes flicked over to my left. “Yeah, I hear you swooped in and stole Thad’s date for the night. He’s currently drinking heavily and has a woman on each arm. So he’s recovering.”

I didn’t even bother looking. I didn’t doubt Grant for a second. “Where’s Harlow?” I asked, changing the subject.

“She’s feeding Lila Kate. I offered to do it, but she said I was the one who needed to be out here showing my face, not her.”

“I have to say, I like the relaxed atmosphere. I’m not sure Harlow could have gotten me to come if this were formal.”

Grant chuckled like he didn’t believe me.

A server appeared with a tray of champagne flutes. I took two and handed one to Reese. “You thirsty?”

She grinned and looked at the glass, then at me. “What is it?”

“Champagne,” I replied, unable to take my eyes off her face. Every expression she made was something I wanted to etch into my memory.

“I’ve never had champagne before,” she said softly.

“I think you’ll like it. Just take a small sip.”

She placed the glass to her lips, and her eyes stayed locked on me as she tasted the blush-colored drink. Her eyes lit with pleasure and excitement. She liked it. And watching her experience it was fucking amazing. It was just a drink, but she made everything an adventure. “It’s really good. It tickles my nose.”

There were several places I wanted to tickle her. But I kept that thought to myself. Glancing over, I realized I’d forgotten about Grant, but he’d moved on from us anyway.

“Hello, I’m Della. You must be Reese.”

I turned back around to see Della Kerrington, Woods’s wife, smiling at Reese. Della was a nice person. I felt safe with her approaching Reese. She hadn’t come from this world, either, although she was now the wife of the owner of the Kerrington Club.

“Yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you,” Reese said, with less nerves this time. It seemed to be only men who made her withdraw.

“It’s lovely to meet you, too. I’ve heard so many good things about you from Harlow.”

Reese’s eyes went wide, and she glanced over at me quickly before smiling back at Della. “Oh. Well, I enjoy working for Mrs. Carter. They’re a really nice family.”

Harlow would hate that Reese still felt she had to call her Mrs. Carter. I didn’t correct her, though, although I could see the confusion flash in Della’s eyes. She wasn’t expecting Reese to be so formal about her relationship with my sister.