Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
claire
Rowan’s muscles relax as he melts into the kiss, his lips moving against mine so slowly and deliberately that there’s no mistaking his feelings for me.
This isn’t the way you kiss someone you only want to sleep with, or even someone you’re trying to save from a bad date, and it’s certainly not just a kiss between friends.
He’s savoring it, like he’s been dying to kiss me, or he’s worried it might be his last chance.
Despite all that, it doesn’t take long for his careful, unhurried kisses to grow more demanding.
His hands curl around my sides as he hauls me in closer, molding his body to mine and showing me how badly he wants me, to my relief.
And the low moan that rumbles up from his chest in conjunction with me rolling my hips into his says he needs me.
Good, because I need you, too.
I must have accidentally articulated that thought aloud, because Rowan immediately tenses and pulls away, leaving me with my chest heaving as I struggle to catch my breath.
“I’m sorry. We can’t,” he rasps.
My chin quivers again as I twist my fingers into his shirt, clinging to him and forcing our bodies back together. He closes his eyes and inhales sharply when I press my lips to his throat.
“Please, Rowan,” I coax, kissing my way up his neck.
“Don’t … tempt me,” he barely gets out.
“But I need you to finish what we started the night we met,” I mumble against his skin before nipping just below his ear. Then I reposition myself beneath him, arching my back and rolling my hips into his as I relish in his warmth.
He hisses and plants a knee between my thighs to stop me from doing it again. “It’s not that I don’t want to, believe me. But you know I can’t,” he repeats.
“Would it really be so bad if we gave in, just this once?” I ask, my desperation clear in my voice.
“Yes,” he answers automatically, but I watch his throat muscles contract as he grapples with his conscience.
“I mean, no, not now. It would be amazing now.” He falters for a second and shifts his position over me again, crushing his hard body into mine.
I seize the opportunity to hitch my leg over his hip and hold him there.
“But later … we’d both feel sad … and—and empty,” he continues rambling as he presses himself into me in a way that both satisfies and intensifies that need at the same time.
I shake my head and clutch him tighter. “That’s why I need you to fill me up,” I reply in my most sultry tone and lean up to scrape my teeth over his bottom lip, earning a half-whimper, half-growl from him.
“I’ve never wanted anything more,” he insists. “But I’m not sure I can give myself away until I don’t have to worry about holding anything back.”
“Then stop holding back,” I tell him before I can think better of it.
He pants as he braces himself over me, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I nearly cry out, nodding vehemently.
And with that, he reaches to pull his shirt up over his head, and I scramble to help him out of it.
He leans down to kiss me again as one of his hands drifts up my side, dragging the fabric and exposing me as he goes.
The moment he presses his warm skin to mine, I realize he’s not playing around anymore.
This feels different than that first night.
Even though he still has his reservations, there’s a new sense of urgency.
And knowing him makes it seem all the more reckless this time around.
Rowan’s fingers work frantically as he unbuttons my jeans and slides them down my hips, his gaze catching on my bare legs, and I reach out to offer my assistance. But he gently averts my hands and sits back on his heels.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, clearing the emotion from his throat. “I don’t want to stop, but I have to make sure you understand what this means to me—what you mean to me.”
I still myself in front of him when I finally hear the agony in his voice.
What the hell am I doing? Guilting him into having sex with me? Using him to make myself feel better? Taking away something so important and precious to him, all in the name of avoiding real intimacy?
This isn’t fair to either of us. I shouldn’t have to resort to seducing a man or coercing him to sleep with me, and regardless of our true feelings for one another, what I’m doing right now isn’t coming from a place of love or affection.
This is lust and pride and loneliness … and probably a strong dose of hormones.
“Because you’re afraid you might say something you don’t mean in the heat of the moment?” I ask carefully.
“I’m more afraid of saying something I do mean,” he admits with a rueful smile. “In fact, I want to say it, especially since I promised you the truth. But if you can’t handle that, then ...”
My chest feels tight when I realize he’s looking for a way out.
He may be trying to soften the blow, knowing I wouldn’t take his rejection very well, but he still can’t bring himself to go through with it.
And as much as I’d like to attribute the cold feet to his strict moral code and assume he’s trying to avoid using me to satisfy his physical urges, with the way he keeps implying his feelings for me run even deeper than I thought, I suspect he’s afraid I’m the one using him.
Which is exactly what I’m doing by not respecting his boundaries and taking advantage of his weakness for me. It’s also why walking away from me in the beginning was the smartest thing he’s ever done.
“No,” I choke out. “You’re right. We shouldn’t … not like this, anyway.”
He looks equally disappointed and relieved. “I’m sorry I’ve ruined the moment again,” he says softly.
“Don’t apologize. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me,” I reply, frowning and reaching up to stroke his cheek. “There’s nothing wrong with having standards or needing a different level of trust. And if I were a better friend, I wouldn’t make you second guess yourself.”
He sighs and holds my hand in place. “That’s the thing—I do trust you, more than anyone, and I want to give you all of me.
I want to make you feel good, to see that look on your face and know I put it there.
I want to finish what we started, to follow through with my promise to make love to you over and over again, then lie awake and listen to you talk until the sun comes up. ”
I inhale sharply when his declaration sends a wave of heat through me, but he continues.
“But we’re not meant to have that if you’re only ever going to see me as a friend.”
I tug my arm back. “Because you’re supposed to be saving that stuff for the person you marry.”
The intensity in his stare makes me shiver. “You know I can’t take love and commitment out of the equation. It’s all or nothing for me.”
“And we both know I can’t give you all the things you need,” I add with a shrug.
“No,” he replies, scoffing. “We don’t know that at all. What makes you so sure you’re not the person I’ve been saving myself for?”
I turn my eyes away when he reminds me of the claims Daisy made earlier this afternoon. “Come on. You’ve made it very clear that I’m not—”
“When have I ever implied that I only want you for sex?” His tone is deep and serious this time, and suddenly all of my worldly experience doesn’t seem to matter.
“I … well, you …” I sound like the clumsy, young virgin with a crush, distracted by the way his jaw flexes as he waits for me to come up with an answer.
“You haven’t exactly been shy about reminding me of how inconvenient your attraction is, since I don’t meet your qualifications,” I finally manage to articulate.
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. It was stupid and naive of me to have so many expectations for the woman I should fall for, and I never should have let you doubt that you exceeded them in the first place.
But I’ve been trying to tell you that I know better now, and the only thing I need her to be is you. ”
“You don’t mean that,” I squeak out in a small voice, because I don’t know what else to say.
“Have you ever known me to be a liar?” he poses with a coy smile.
“Rowan … I can’t let you sacrifice everything you want most.” He looks confused, so I continue. “I can’t give you the family you dream about.”
“None of that means anything to me if I can’t have it with you.”
“Don’t say that,” I whisper, my lip quivering at the realization that I’ve failed him.
“But it’s the truth,” he insists. “I love you, Claire.”
“No,” I whine. “You’re confused. It’s the chemistry messing with your head, and I made it worse when I—”
“I’m not the one who’s confused. Not anymore.”
“But you walked in on me with another man tonight, and you don’t even seem to care,” I practically wail.
“Of course I care. But you tried to convince me to date someone else first, and when that didn’t work, you kept insisting you only liked me as a friend,” he says with a shrug.
“Even though I didn’t actually believe you, how else was I supposed to prove you wrong without letting you figure it out for yourself? ”
I feel myself pouting. “But you weren’t even jealous.”
His brow lifts in astonishment. “What the heck do you call that back there?”
“Helping a friend?” I offer.
“A better wingman would have found another way to get rid of Nick that didn’t involve kissing you in front of him,” he admits as his mouth turns up in a dimpled smirk.
“But you …” I can’t even finish my next objection because the thought of him barging in and kissing me like that simply because he wanted to is enough to knock the wind from my lungs.
“I may not be much of a fighter, but I wasn’t about to wait outside for you to reply to a check-in text after finding some other man’s truck in the driveway. I’m nice, but I’m not that nice.”
I bite my lip, unable to resist the urge to push his buttons. “Were you really jealous?”
He lets out a low growl. “Baby, I’m jealous of Oscar and Frankie as soon as you start giving belly rubs,” he teases, making me simper.