But now, after his demanding and desperate touch has subsided, I can see the concern in his eyes, and I wish he could feel the way I do inside. If he could understand how good this ache feels, he wouldn’t worry. He strokes my back and glides his hand over my sore bottom. I turn on my stomach and let his hand stroke my backside. He’s incredibly gentle, and after a moment, he’s leaning up and over me, trailing small kisses all along my back. He eventually makes his way down to my throbbing rear, and he doesn’t hesitate a moment before continuing his trail down over each cheek of my buttocks. It is gentle and relaxing, and as I drift to sleep, he continues to let his mouth tenderly claim and caress every bruise and pain on my body. And the last thought I remember as I give into sleep is, God, I hope there’s a next time.
Chapter 11
I get up early, having lain awake for what seems like hours. I don’t want to leave Rowan’s warm body for even a moment, but in my restlessness I’ve made a decision, and I can’t possibly know if Rowan will argue with me or agree to my new “arrangement.” She’s sleeping soundly when I creep to the kitchen. I start coffee before I sit down at the table and try to distract myself until she wakes. I’m hoping caffeine will work its clarifying magic on me.
I feel guilty about what happened with her father last night, and so jealously protective of her. I can’t help but wonder if she blames me as much as I blame myself. It was ridiculous of me to think I could protect her from her father. Was I really so arrogant or just stupid to think it was ever a possibility? I want to keep her near me, and my obsession with her has made it impossible for me to even try to separate myself from her right now, especially when the end of our time together is so near. So the decision is quite simple. But the logistics of it are another problem entirely, and getting her to agree to it, yet another.
She absolutely won’t go back to that house. What’s so complicated about that? Managing to keep our little arrangement a secret, for one. The aftermath of my moving cross-country for another. She won’t be moving to Ann Arbor until the end of the summer. My apartment will be rented out to someone else as soon as I’ve moved out and that leaves a stretch of three months where she won’t have a place to live. I know all too well how quickly things can disintegrate with her father, and that is more than enough time for him to hurt her if she doesn’t have a safe place to be. I can’t ask her to stay with Sara during the entire summer break because she would without a doubt refuse, not to mention the questions this would incite from my family. And while I’d like nothing else than to drag her along to Colorado with me for the summer, that certainly would go over like the Hindenburg on more than one front.
The only plan I can seem to come up with that doesn’t blatantly announce our little secret to my entire family is putting her up in her own apartment in Allendale for a time or sending her to Ann Arbor early and paying for an apartment there. Sara won’t appreciate Rowan moving to Ann Arbor three months early, leaving her alone in Allendale for the summer before she follows at the beginning of the school year. But a summer apartment in Allendale will no doubt raise at least some questions with Sara and my family. And, of course, Rowan will worry about the money—not that I have any intention of making her pay for anything, and that alone will be grounds for an argument.
She’ll feel like a burden to me, and it will go against that strong independent streak that is so engrained in her after so many years of fending for herself. Why she could imagine for even a second that she is an inconvenience to me is beyond my understanding. Maybe I’d feel the same way in her position, but she must know by now I’d have her no place but by me, protected jealously by me, and cared for ceaselessly by me. Then again, I would be moving away from her in only a couple short months, and the feeling of abandoning her might just rip me apart by then. The thought of leaving her is a painful stab in my gut I’ve had to get very used to dealing with lately. I wonder if it will be as difficult for her as it is for me. Difficult, perhaps, but as difficult, I can’t imagine. But then, I could never imagine being so attached to someone in all my life either.
A few short months ago, I would never have believed I could become so obsessed with someone as I have her. What happened last night was the most amazing and erotic catastrophe I’ve ever created. Obviously, keeping my hands off of her was a battle I pitifully lost. But by having her more or less move in here permanently for the next few months, I would have to worry about keeping my dick out of her, too.
That was the second of the decisions I’d made lying wide awake in bed this morning next to Rowan. I wouldn’t rob her of her virginity just to leave her mere weeks later. I may have given up on keeping my hands off her, but I certainly wouldn’t take that from her as well. The idea of giving into one final desire and ultimately using her just leaves a horrible bitter taste in my mouth. She deserves far more from the man who takes her virginity, and as much as I wish it could be me, I know it can’t. But the idea of it being anyone other than me nearly stops my heart in my chest. I simply can’t give into the temptation. However, now that I’ve opened Pandora’s box, I did intend to give her every ounce of pleasure she could handle between now and then… just sans sex. Perhaps it will make leaving her even more painful and torturous, but I have a very strong feeling it will be agony either way.
I finally return to my bedroom, tired of waiting for her to wake and missing the feel of her warmth. She rouses when she hears me enter the room, and she smiles sleepily and quite shyly up at me. I sit on the side of the bed and lean down to kiss her still swollen lip. The crack down the middle of her bottom lip looks painful but better than it did the night before, and I’m glad at least she won’t be faced with the probing questions of her friends at school today, not to mention Sara.
When I finally break from her mouth, she looks imploringly at me, and I know a question is to come. She seems nervous and unsure about what she wants to say but finally manages to choke out the question that’s been tormenting her for the better part of the last minute. “Will you make love to me?”
I knew this question would be coming soon enough, and I shake my head slowly, not wanting to upset her, but I can tell by the look on her face she’s hurt, not to mention embarrassed. She looks away quickly, not knowing what to say to save her dignity, and I jump in to reassure her. “You know I want to. I’d just like you to stay intact a while longer. It’s important to me.” Well, that was as close to the truth as I was willing to go with her at the moment. And right now, my need to please her body and assuage her feeling of rejection is overwhelming.
My mouth finds its way down to her breasts and her waiting, taut nipples. She instantly sighs in relief, and I instantly want more. She starts to arch her back into my mouth as her pleasure builds, and I run my hand down her perfect stomach and then further down to her wet center. I’m surprised when she suddenly stops me, especially given her recent propensity for sexual gratification. But she pulls my reluctant hand away from her body and draws my gaze up to hers.