And that was the issue. Why was he with me? I wasn’t pretty, had big hips, mousey, brown hair, and my thighs were my best feature. Most guys wouldn’t say so, because I was only five foot three, and they liked the tall, skinny fawn-like legs. I liked my thighs, because I rode horses, and they were the most muscular, lean part of my body.
He stiffened, and I recognized the russet in his eyes reflect in the moonlight. I laid my hands flat on his chest feeling his beating heart beneath my touch. “Jesus, Emily, you have to bury that shit your mother tells you. I swear if she wasn’t a woman, I’d kick her ass.”
I gasped. How did he know about my mother?
“Yeah, Mouse, I know it’s swimming around in your head like a shark eating all your confidence. Do you think I don’t pay attention? I’ve asked you about your mother, and I see what it does to you. You spent most of your childhood at Matt and Kat’s. A girl doesn’t do that if her mother is something special. I’m certain yours is not. She’s put toxic shit in your head.”
“Sculpt ... I ... my ...” Yeah. I had no words. He was right. My mom was toxic, and that was why I never saw her, not that she’d remember if I did.
He tucked my hair behind my ear. It seemed so natural; I wondered if he even realized he was doing it. “We’re exploring this, Eme. I want you on tour with me.”
“I need more time, Sculpt. I can’t suddenly decide to change my life and go with you. I have school starting and Matt and Kat ...” My voice trailed off.
Silence.
“You want to train horses. Why are you wasting your time going to college taking accounting?”
We’d been through this. “Sculpt, it’s a silly dream. I need to focus on what’s real, and that is finding a career and making money.”
“You’re wrong, Eme. You should be chasing your dream.” He sighed. “I’m leaving. Next week.”
My breath hitched, and my heart felt like it had been pierced with quills, and he hadn’t even left yet. “But I thought—”
“Things have changed. We’re leaving sooner than we planned.”
I couldn’t go. God, I wanted to, but he needed to live his dream, and I had to make my own way. I never wanted him to regret being with me. Anything I wanted in life I had to reach for myself. I didn’t want someone else supporting me. One good thing I’d learned from my mother was that if I wanted anything, I had to get it myself, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to give it to me.
“Sculpt. I can’t.”
“Emily.” He lay back in the grass scowling. “You’re overthinking this.”
“But Sculpt—”
“No buts, Emily. I can’t handle any buts. I’m pissed right now.”
“But—”
He sat up again, brows lowered. “No.”
“But you’ll like my but.” I leaned toward him and nipped his chin. That got him to ease up, and his muscles relaxed.
“I already like your butt.” His hand slid down the small of my back to my ass and squeezed. It was playful, but I could still see the darkness in his eyes, and his face was hard.
“Sculpt. My but is important.”
“Yeah, Eme, it is.” I slapped him on the shoulder, and I was glad when he laughed. “Okay, what’s your but?”
“I was going to say, but ...” His brows rose. “Before you go, I want you to make love to me.” I paused, seeing his brows rise with surprise, then I pushed on quickly before I lost my nerve. “Like now, Sculpt. Right now. Here in this spot where we always hang out together. Our place. You with your guitar, and me with the horses.”
His hands that were slowly roaming, stopped squeezing my upper thighs, and he stared at me with such intensity that I was getting hot just watching him watch me. “That’s your but?”
I nodded.
“I knew I liked your butt.” He put his hands on either side of my face and met my eyes. “If you’re in my bed ... you’re not in anyone else’s. You got that, Mouse? Even if I can’t convince you in the next week to come with me—no one else’s.”
“Okay. Same goes for you.” Surrounded by women night after night would be a lot harder for him than for me.
Sculpt stroked the side of my face. “Emily. You erase the bad in my life.”
I couldn’t imagine Sculpt having any bad. He was hot, had an incredible voice, had a body that was no doubt in the dictionary under the definition of muscle, and he had sexy bedroom hair with intense, dark eyes.
He may not laugh often, but when he did it was magical and made up for all the other times he didn’t. I sensed the hardness in him, the untouchable part that he refused to let me discover, but we’d only known one another for a couple months.
His thumb caressed my lips, and the ache between my legs intensified. My stomach wasn’t just pretty little butterflies; it was a flock of Egrets taking flight.
He picked me up and set me on the grass beside him then got on his knees in front of me. He tilted forward, and I leaned back until I was resting in the grass, and he was hovering above.
My nerves were sparking off in every direction while the twinge between my legs became a spasm of aching need. I was breathing so fast that it was like I’d run a marathon.
“Have you ever been touched, Emily?”
I shook my head too breathless to respond verbally.
“If you’re not ready ... tell me now. Be damn sure about this, Eme.”