“She’s gonna take Henrietta’s room until I can get in touch with her father and figure something out,” I replied, and shoved the luggage at Grant. “Here, you take her to her room. I have company to get back to.”
I didn’t glance back at her, nor did I make eye contact with Grant. I needed distance. And I needed to talk to Nan. She wasn’t going to be happy, but there was no way in hell I was letting that girl sleep in her truck. She would draw attention. She was gorgeous and completely unable to take care of herself. Dammit! Why had I gone and pulled Abe Wynn into our life? He was causing all this shit.
Nan was standing at the door with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at me. I wanted her pissed. As long as she was mad at me, she wouldn’t cry. I didn’t deal well when she cried. I’d been the one trying to ease her pain since she was little. When Nan cried, I immediately started trying to fix things.
“Why is she still here?” Nan snapped, looking over my shoulder before I could shut the door and block out the fact that Grant was headed this way with Blaire.
“We need to talk.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the door and toward the stairs. “Upstairs. If you’re gonna yell, I don’t want to cause a scene,” I told her, making sure to use my stern voice.
She frowned and stomped up the stairs like a five-year-old.
I followed her up, hoping she would get far enough away from the front door before it opened. I didn’t take a deep breath until she was stalking into the bedroom she had used back when this was our summer home. Before I became an adult and took what was mine.
“You’re buying her shit, aren’t you? Grant talked you into it! I knew I should have followed him out there. He is such a dickhead. He’s only doing this to get to me,” she spat out before I could say anything.
“She’s staying in the room under the f**king stairs. It isn’t like I’m putting her up here. And she’s only staying until I can get a hold of Abe and figure out what to do. She has no gas in her truck and no money to get a hotel room. You want to be mad at somebody, fine, be mad at motherfucking Abe!” I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, but the more I thought about Abe running off to Paris knowing that his daughter was headed here in a beat-up old truck with no money, the more it pissed me off. Anything could have happened to her. She was too damn breakable and needy.
“You think she’s hot. I saw the look in your eyes. I’m not stupid. That’s all this is,” Nan said, before sticking out her lip in a pout. “Seeing her hurts me, Rush. You know that. She had him for sixteen years. It’s my turn!”
I shook my head in disbelief. She thought she had Abe now? Really? He was off living it up in Paris on my mother’s dime, and Nan thought that meant she had won? “He’s a f**king loser, Nan. She had his ass for sixteen years. I don’t think that means she won something. He let her come here thinking he would help her and didn’t think twice about the fact that she’s a little helpless girl with these big-ass sad eyes that any man could take advantage of.” I stopped talking, because I was saying too much.
Nan’s eyes went wide. “Holy hell! Don’t you f**k her! You hear me? Do not f**k her! She leaves as soon as you can kick her out. I do not want her here.”
Talking to my sister was like talking to a wall. She was so stubborn. I wasn’t doing this anymore. She could make all the demands she wanted, but I owned this house. I owned her condo. I owned everything in her life. I was in control. Not her.
“Go back down to your party and your friends. I’m going to bed. Let me handle this the way it needs to be handled,” I said, then turned and headed for the door.
“But you’re gonna f**k her, aren’t you?” Nan asked from behind me.
I wanted her to stop saying that word in relation to Blaire, because, damn it all to hell, it was making me think about all that white-blond hair on my pillow and those eyes looking up at me as she climaxed. I didn’t answer Nan. I wasn’t going to f**k Blaire Wynn. I was going to keep as far away from her as possible. But Nan wasn’t going to order me around, either. I made my own choices.
CHAPTER THREE
The music was loudly pumping downstairs, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to hear it up in my room.
I wasn’t in the mood for all that shit down there. I hadn’t been in the mood before Blaire Wynn showed up, and I sure wasn’t in the mood now.
“There you are,” a female cooed, and I turned to see one of Nan’s friends from the club walking toward me. Her skirt was so short her ass almost hung out of the back. That had been the only reason I noticed her. Hard to miss an ass right there on display. I couldn’t remember her name¸ though.
“You lost?” I asked, not liking that she’d come upstairs. My rule was to keep the party away from my personal space.
She pushed her chest out and bit down on her bottom lip before batting her eyelashes at me. Long fake eyelashes. Nothing like Blaire’s. Fuck me. Why was I thinking about Blaire?
“I’m exactly where I want to be. With you,” she said in a husky whisper, before pressing her tits to my chest and running her hand down to cup my dick. “I’ve heard how good you can make a girl feel. How you can make her scream from orgasms, over and over again,” she said, gently squeezing me. “Make me come, Rush.”
I reached down and grabbed a strand of her blond hair. It wasn’t as blond as . . . no. Goddammit, I was doing it again. Comparing everything about her to Blaire. This was an issue I needed to get control of—now. “Beg,” I told her.
“Please, Rush,” she quickly replied, and she rubbed my uninterested c**k to life. “I want you to f**k me, please.”
She was good. Sounded almost like a p**n star. “It’s just sex, babe. Nothing more. And it’s just tonight,” I told her. I always made sure they knew the rules. We wouldn’t have a repeat unless she was damn good.
“Hmm, I’ll remind you that you said that,” she said, winking up at me like she didn’t believe me at all. Either she was f**king brilliant in the sack, or it was wishful thinking on her part. I hardly ever went back for seconds. “Where’s your room?” she asked, pressing a kiss to my chest.
“Not taking you to my room,” I told her, and shoved her back until she stumbled into the guest bedroom I used for sex. Girls didn’t get to go to my room. That was my place, and I didn’t want memories of females up there.
“Oh, Mr. Impatient,” she said, giggling as she shimmied out of her skirt and licked her lips. “I’m a pro at sucking cock.”
I pulled my shirt off and went over to sit on the bed. “Show me,” I replied.