Too Far 02 - Never Too Far

climax we needed.
    “I love you, Blaire. I love you so damn much it hurts,” he panted then lowered his head to suck on my nipple. My body went off and I cried out his name. Rush lifted his head, and looking into my eyes, started to pull out and I clamped my legs around his waist. I didn’t want him to pull out. The understanding of what I wanted hit him and he said my name in a whisper before throwing his head back as he pumped his release into me.

Rush

    Blaire pushed me back and jumped down off the counter before I could get my head clear from that orgasm. “Wait, I need to clean you up,” I told her. I actually just wanted to clean her up. I liked it. No, I fucking loved it. Knowing I’d been there and I was taking care of her did something to me.
    “You don’t need to clean me up. I’m fine,” she replied as she reached for her discarded dress and slipped it back on without making eye contact with me. Shit. Had I read her wrong? I thought she wanted this. No. I knew she wanted it. She’d been so damn hungry for it.
“Blaire, look at me.”
    She paused and picked up her panties. I swallowed hard as she stepped into them and slid them back up her body. I needed her again. She couldn’t walk away from me now. I wasn’t going to be able to live through it if she did.
    “Blaire, please look at me,” I begged.
    Stopping, she took a deep breath then lifted her eyes to meet mine. The sadness there was mixed with something else. Embarrassment? Surely not. I reached over and cupped her face with my hand. “What’s wrong? Did I do something you didn’t want me to? Because I was trying not to lose control. I was trying real hard to do what you wanted.”
    “No. You… you didn’t do anything wrong.” She dropped her eyes from mine again. “I just need to think. I need some space. I didn’t… I wasn’t… We shouldn’t have done that.”
    Stabbing me in the chest would have been less painful. I wanted to pull her to me and go all cave man claiming she was mine and couldn’t leave me. But then I could lose her. I couldn’t go through that again. I had to do this her way. I let my hand fall from her face and I stepped back so she could leave.
    Blaire lifted her face to look up at me again. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, then opened the door and escaped.
    She had just blown my world away with amazingly hot sex and she was sorry. Fantastic.
    When I finally emerged from the bathroom Blaire was gone. Jace smirked and Bethy made excuses for her. I didn’t want to be there anymore either. After I made sure all the heavy stuff was moved and Blaire’s suitcase and box were packed up I left. I couldn’t stay there while the two of them watched me. They’d heard us. Blaire had been loud. I wasn’t ashamed; I was just tired of them looking at me and waiting on me to say something to explain Blaire’s departure.

    I gave Blaire a couple days to come to me. She hadn’t. I wasn’t surprised. But she’d asked for space and I’d given her all the space I could handle. I didn’t call anyone to play a round of golf with me. I didn’t want anyone around when Blaire showed up. We needed to talk. No distractions or excuses for her to ride off.
    It had sounded like a firm plan but after six holes and no cart girl I was beginning to wonder. Just as I was about to walk to the next hole I heard the sound of the cart. I stopped and turned around. The blood that had started pumping through my veins from the idea of seeing Blaire out here and having her alone froze when I realized it was that blond girl that I’d seen training a few times with Bethy. Shit.
    I shook my head and waved her on. I didn’t want a drink from her. She smiled brightly and drove on to the next stop.
    “It’s hot out here. You sure you don’t want something?” Meg’s voice asked and I glanced back to see her walking up dressed in a white tennis skirt and polo. She’d been big into tennis ten years ago too.
    “Wrong cart girl,” I replied and waited on her to catch up to me.
    “You only buy from one?”
    “Yep.”
    Meg looked thoughtful then nodded. “I see. You have a thing for a cart girl.”
    ‘A thing’ didn’t even scratch the surface. I pulled my golf bag up on my shoulder and started walking to the next hole. I wasn’t going to respond to that comment.
    “And he’s touchy about it,” Meg quipped. That annoyed me.
    “Or it’s just not your business.”
    She let out a low whistle. “So it’s more than a