“How’s that?” she asks.
“Good.” I close my eyes as she increases the pressure a little. “Better than good.”
Her hands remain on my shoulders and she adds slightly more pressure. “Is that okay?”
“Yes. It’s perfect. But you don’t have to do this.”
“I want to. You’re so tense and I want to make you feel better.”
No one’s ever tried to make me feel better. Not even my own mother. When I was a child and got sick or injured, my nanny took care of me. And she wasn’t caring or nurturing in any way. She just did her job and left.
“When you’re done, I’m doing the same to you,” I say as Rachel’s hands move down to my shoulder blades. God, it feels good. I can already feel the tightness in my muscles loosening.
She peeks around my shoulder and kisses my cheek. “Lie down so I can get more of your back. And you should probably take your shirt off.”
I do as she says and her hands move over my skin in long, even strokes. Then she finds the tense spots and applies extra pressure, working the knots out. It might just be the best thing I’ve ever felt. She continues and I become so relaxed that I fall asleep.
“Pearce.”
I open my eyes and see Rachel crouched down in front of me. I turn on my side to face her. “How long was I asleep?”
“About an hour.” She brushes the hair off my forehead. “That massage really knocked you out. I didn’t want to wake you up, but I think you’ll be more comfortable in the bed.”
I sit up and stretch a little. My muscles actually feel loose. They never feel loose. I’m always wound so tight I can barely breathe. I take a breath and notice my chest muscles are relaxed enough that I can actually inhale a deep breath instead of the shallow breaths I’m used to.
“You’re really good at that,” I tell her. “I feel great. Where did you learn how to do that?”
She shrugs. “I just taught myself. I can feel the tense areas I need to work on and then I just pay attention to how the person reacts and adjust the pressure.”
“Well, you’re very talented. I can’t remember when I last felt this good. Probably never.”
“Then I’ll have to be sure and do that more often. You can’t go around being that tense all the time.” She holds her hand out to me. “Come on. Let’s go.”
We walk to the bedroom. She goes in the bathroom and gets ready for bed while I change out of my clothes. As I’m hanging my pants in the closet, I spot her overnight bag on the floor. I wish she’d reconsider my offer. I don’t want her living in that run-down apartment in that dangerous neighborhood. I want her living here. With me. For her safety, but also because I don’t want her to leave.
She comes out of the bathroom in a white tank top and pink and white striped pajama pants. She looks adorable and sexy at the same time. Her long brown hair cascades over her shoulders and her face is clean of any makeup. She doesn’t need it. Her complexion is flawless and she has the most gorgeous face. It’s perfectly symmetrical with high cheekbones like a model. Her eyes are bright blue and her lips are soft and full.
I step up to her, lifting her face up to mine. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Pearce, I don’t even have makeup on.”
“You don’t need it. You’re gorgeous.”
Her lips turn up into a shy smile. “Thank you. Let’s go to bed.”
I don’t think she believes me. She really doesn’t know she’s beautiful? Has she never looked in a mirror?
“Pearce. Are you going to put pajamas on?”
I’m still staring at her face, but her question causes me to look down and see that I’m not wearing any pants. “Oh. Yes. Sorry, I was distracted.”
She laughs and goes over to the bed. “I think pants would be a good idea.”
“Yes. Of course.” I go over to my dresser.
“So it sounded like your mom called earlier. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just heard you call her that when you picked up the phone.”
“Yes, that was her.” I find my pajama pants and slip them on. “She needs me to attend a dinner party with her in a few weeks because my father is out of town.”
“I’d love to meet her sometime. And your father. Maybe when he’s back from his trip, we could all go out.”
Rachel can’t meet my parents. They’d forbid me from seeing her. So how is this going to work? I can’t keep her a secret forever.
I don’t respond to her statement, but instead get into bed beside her. “Flip over.” I pause, then say, “Oh, and take your shirt off.”
“What?” She pretends to be shocked. “What exactly are you planning to do here?”
“You’ll see.” I motion to her tank. “Take it off, please.”
She turns her back to me and slips it off, then lies on her stomach. “You don’t have to do this. I’m not nearly as tense as you were.”
“Maybe not, but it’s an excuse to touch you.”
She turns toward me and my eyes immediately shift down to her breasts. I’m trying not to make this sexual, but now that we’re here in bed and she’s topless, all I can think about is how much I want to be with her.
“You don’t need an excuse to touch me,” she says.
“Regardless, it’s only fair that I reciprocate the massage, so flip over.”
She does as I ask, lying on her stomach, her head on the pillow facing me.
I rest on my side, using one hand to massage her as I gaze at her face. She opens her eyes and sees me watching her. “That feels really good.”
“It’s not as good as you did, but you’re the first person I’ve ever massaged so you have to lower your expectations.”
“You’ve never massaged anyone?”
“No. You’re the first, so if I do something wrong, just tell me.”
She smiles. “Another first for Pearce Kensington. And you also had chocolate chip ice cream.” She grabs my arm. “Oh, no! We forgot to eat it. It’s still sitting on the counter. I should go clean it up.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” I place her arm back by her side. “Now relax or you’ll ruin the massage.”
She smiles and closes her eyes.
I place my hand at the top of her neck, then run it down her spine, stopping when I reach her waistband. “How’s that?”
“Good. Really good.”
I do it again with a little more pressure.
“I think it’s nice you do stuff with your mom,” she says, her eyes still closed.
I don’t know why she keeps talking about my mother. I’m trying not to think about her right now. Or anything related to that part of my life.
“You’re a good man, Pearce.”
I tense up when she says it because it reminds me of when Shelby said it, right here in this very room, right after she had sex with me. She said those exact same words. They weren’t true then and they’re not true now. I’m not a good man and I never will be. I do bad things. And I lie. I constantly lie. It usually doesn’t bother me, but now I’m lying to Rachel and it doesn’t feel right, especially after she opened up to me the way she did tonight.
I don’t like lying to her. I want her to know me. All of me. But she can’t. So as much as I don’t want to, I have to continue to lie.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
21
RACHEL
When I wake up, I notice I’m not wearing a shirt. I must’ve fallen asleep when Pearce was giving me the massage. That was so sweet of him. He didn’t have to do that. He needed one way more than I did. I’ve never felt anyone that tense. His muscles were like rocks. Even after an hour of massaging him, he was still knotted up, but he was a lot better than when I started.
I wonder why he’s so tense. He’s only 25. He has plenty of money. A good job. So I don’t know why he’s so stressed. I guess it’s just his personality. Some people internalize stress more than others. But it’s bad for his health and I worry about him.
“Don’t go,” Pearce mumbles, his arm tightening around me.
I relax into him again. “I’m right here,” I whisper, although I’m pretty sure he’s asleep.
He really doesn’t want me to go. And not just tonight. He keeps asking me to move in with him. When he first asked me, I thought he was kidding, but he was completely serious and now he actually has me considering it. I’m just not sure I’m ready to take that step. I love being with Pearce, but I also love my independence and I’m not ready to give it up. So for now, we’ll continue what we’ve been doing; sometimes I’ll stay over here and some nights he can stay with me. Because I do love this. I love being in his arms, sleeping beside him. I feel like it’s where I belong.
Our relationship took a huge step forward tonight. I finally told him I can’t have children. I never in a million years thought he’d react the way he did. I thought for sure he’d end things with me, but instead he said the words I so desperately needed to hear. Words I should have heard from Adam, but never did.
Adam broke my heart, but tonight, Pearce put part of it back together. When he told me it didn’t matter to him that I can’t have children, I finally felt like I was okay. That I was normal and not defective, which is how Adam made me feel.
I don’t think Pearce realizes how much that meant to me. His words made me feel something I never felt with Adam or any other man I’ve dated. It was love, pure and simple, and it took me by such surprise that I’m still wondering what this means. Am I in love with Pearce? I think I am. If not, I’m definitely falling in love with him. And I think he might be falling right along with me.
Shelby said if Adam had loved me, he wouldn’t have cared that I can’t have children. He’d still want to be with me. But he didn’t. But Pearce does. So does that mean he loves me? I don’t know. I don’t think he knows either. I think we’re both falling into something we’re unsure of and not prepared for. And yet we just keep falling, waiting to see where we land.
Hours later I wake up to the sound of classical music. It’s Pearce’s alarm clock going off. I turn over and see he’s already out of bed.
“Sorry about that.” He comes out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, leaving the rest of him exposed; his broad shoulders, muscular arms, ripped abs. Damn, he’s hot. I can’t hold out much longer. We have to do it soon. Really soon.
“It’s okay,” I say, as he turns the alarm off. “I need to get up.”
He sits beside me on the bed and leans down to kiss me. He smells all fresh and clean from his shower. Extremely hard to resist.
“Good morning.” He smiles at me. He has such a sexy smile. And a sexy voice. It’s deep, confident, and makes him even harder to resist.
“How did you sleep?” I ask, trying to stay focused on something other than the sexual tension hovering between us.
“Excellent. That massage had me in such a deep sleep I feel like I’ve slept for days. I feel great. I’m usually dragging in the morning, but today I’m wide awake.”
“Good.” I notice his eyes on my chest and I look down and see I’m uncovered. “Oops.” I lift the sheet over myself.
He laughs a little. “No need to cover up. I’ve seen them already. Several times, actually.”
I smile. “Yes. I know.”
“Would you like to use the shower? I’m done in there.”
The past two days, I’ve showered in the guest bathroom down the hall while Pearce was using the shower in here. I told him it was just to save time but really it was because I didn’t want to be anywhere near him while he was in the shower. I’d be far too tempting to walk in and join him.
“Um, no, that’s okay. I’ll just shower at home.”
“It’s a very nice shower. Multiple shower heads with various settings. I even have a heated towel rack so you’ll have a warm towel when you get out.”
“That does sound appealing compared to my shower, which barely trickles out water and is usually lukewarm, if not cold.”
He stands up and extends his arm out toward the bathroom. “Go ahead. Take as long as you want. There’s plenty of hot water. You won’t run out.”
“Okay.” I shove the covers back, my arms crossed over my breasts as I walk to the bathroom. I know he’s seen them before but I still feel self-conscious just walking around topless. I shut the bathroom door and pee and quickly brush my teeth. Then I kick off my pajama pants and open the glass shower door and step inside. The steam from Pearce’s shower still hovers in the air, making it toasty warm. I attempt to turn the water on but there are all these levers and knobs and I’m not sure which one to turn.
“Um, Pearce?” I yell out the shower door.
“Yes,” I hear him say from the bedroom.
“How do you turn the shower on?”
“I’ll show you. Can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
He comes in the bathroom and into the large walk-in shower, keeping his eyes on the tile wall and not my naked body. He puts his hand on one of the levers. “This one turns it on and this one adjusts the water temperature.” He points to one of the knobs. “If you want to adjust the shower heads, just turn this left or right. Each one has three settings.”
“Thank you.”
He smiles as he looks me up and down. “You’re very welcome.”
“Hey.” I swat at him. “You’re not supposed to look.”
“You didn’t make that clear when you invited me in here.”
“I didn’t invite you. I just asked for your help.”
“And I gave it to you.” He leans down and puts his lips to mine for a very slow, very sexy, very deliberate kiss.
He’s testing my will power. I’m naked. He’s in a towel. We’re in a shower. And his kiss is burning up my insides.
He stops suddenly and steps back out into the bathroom. “Mind if I shave while you’re in there?”
“Um, no, go ahead,” I say, stumbling on my words, my brain not fully functioning after that kiss. I start the water and adjust the temperature. Through the glass shower door, I see Pearce lathering up his face with shaving cream.
In the mirror, he catches me watching him and smiles, “How’s the shower?”
“It’s great.” I turn a little so that all three shower heads are raining down on me. “Actually, it’s pure heaven. So much better than mine. I’d love to have this shower.”
“You could if you lived here.”
I wipe the water from my eyes and see him running the razor over his face.
I decide to humor him. “How much is the rent?”
“How much do you pay for your current place?”
“Five hundred a month, plus utilities.”
“The rent here is only a hundred a month, utilities included.”
“Wow. That’s a bargain. But I’d have to drive a half hour to class every day. That’s a lot of gas money.”
“Even with gas, it’s still cheaper than your current place.”
“That’s true.” I close my eyes as the water runs over my face.
“So what do you think?”
I hear his voice right in front of me. I open my eyes and there he is. No towel this time. Just him. Freshly shaved and looking completely irresistible.
“I need to think about it,” I say, feeling breathless as my heart races in my chest.
He stands there, giving me an extremely sexy smile. I can’t take my eyes off him. I try, but I can’t. His body is amazing. I know he works out, but I’d like to know what kind of workout gets results like that. His body is hard. Solid. His muscles chiseled. I’m heating up even more just looking at him.
He steps closer, slipping his arm around my waist as he leans down and talks in my ear. “Would you like me to leave?” He trails soft, warm kiss
es along my neck as the water flows over us.
My eyes fall shut again as I shake my head, unable to respond verbally. I’m too focused on how good this feels. How turned on he makes me. How desperate I am for this to continue.
I feel his lips over mine as his hand travels slowly down my spine, just like when he gave me that massage last night, only this time there’s no waistband to stop him and his hand keeps going, skimming over my hip and my backside. His other hand moves behind my neck, holding me in place as his kiss goes deeper. My body’s on fire, exploding with sensations, which only intensify when his hand slips between my legs. He shows off his talent in this area once again, and moments later, I’m coming undone, finding it hard to remain standing as waves of pleasure roll through me.
His hand returns to my waist, holding me up. “Rachel.”
I open my eyes and see him looking at me. “Yes.”
“How well do you know me?”
I smile. “Well enough.”
I’m still recovering from what he did to me, my body ultra sensitive to his touch. But I’m ready for more. I’ve held out long enough. I want this. I want this so bad.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Absolutely.”
I loop my arms around his neck as he lifts me up and against the wall. I gasp as he thrusts inside me. I forgot how amazing he feels. Actually, I didn’t forget, but I was trying to block it out so I could hold out longer and focus on the other aspects of our relationship. But I’m done holding out. My self control is gone, especially now, as I’m reminded how compatible we are this way. Not just our bodies, but the way he feels, the way he touches me. It’s perfect. Like he knows me and knows exactly what I like.
I try to focus on each and every sensation, savoring them and wanting them to last. But it’s overwhelming and all consuming and before I know it, I’m grabbing hold of him, calling out his name, begging him to keep going. The sensation overtakes me, sending me on another blissful ride of pure pleasure. It’s intense, and like nothing I’ve ever felt with anyone else.
Needing Her Page 24