What a Westmoreland Wants

She was staring at him as if she was still trying to figure out why and how this thing had happened. He would allow her time to do that, but what he wouldn’t tolerate was her thinking that what they’d shared was wrong, because it wasn’t. He would not accept any regrets.

The one thing he’d taken note of with his fingers was that she was extremely tight. With most men that would send up a red flag, but not him because her sexual experience, or lack thereof, didn’t matter. However, if she hadn’t been made love to before, he wanted to know it.

He opened his mouth to ask her, but she spoke before he could do so. “We should not have done that, Callum.”

She could say that? While his hand was still inside of her? Maybe she had forgotten where his fingers were because they weren’t moving. He flexed them, and when she immediately sucked in a deep breath as her gaze darkened with desire, he knew he’d succeeded in reminding her.

And while she watched, he slid his hand from inside of her and moments later he brought it to his lips and licked every finger that had been inside her. He then raked one finger across her lips before leaning down and tracing with his tongue where his finger had touched her mouth before saying, “With that I have to disagree.” He spoke in a voice so throaty he barely recognized it as his own.

Her taste sent even more desire shooting through him. “Why do you feel that way, Gemma?”

He saw her throat move when she swallowed with her eyes still latched on his. “You’re my client.”

“Yes. And I just kissed you. One has nothing to do with the other. I hired you because I know you will do a good job. I just kissed you because—”

“I asked you to?”

He shook his head. “No, because I wanted to and because you wanted me to do it, too.”

She nodded. “Yes,” she said softly. “I wanted you to.”

“Then there’s no place for regrets and our attraction to each other has nothing to do with your decorating my home, so you can kill that idea here and now.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment and then she asked, “What about me being Ramsey’s sister? Does that mean anything to you?”

A smile skidded across his lips. “I consider myself one of Ramsey’s closest friends. Does that mean anything to you?”

She nervously nibbled on her bottom lip. “Yes. He will probably have a fit if he ever finds out we’re attracted to each other.”

“You think so?”

“Yes,” she said promptly, without thinking much about his question. “Don’t you?”

“No. Your brother is a fair man who recognizes you as the adult you are.”

She rolled her eyes. “Are we talking about the same Ramsey Westmoreland?”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, we’re talking about the same Ramsey Westmoreland. My best friend and your brother. You will always be one of his younger sisters, especially since he had a hand in raising you. Ramsey will always feel that he has a vested interest in your happiness and will always play the role of your protector, and understandably so. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t recognize that you’re old enough to make your own decisions about your life.”

She didn’t say anything and he knew she was thinking hard about what he’d said. To reinforce the meaning of his words, he added. “Besides, Ramsey knows I would never take advantage of you, Gemma. I am not that kind of guy. I ask before I take. But remember, you always have the right to say no.” A part of him hoped she would never say no to any direction their attraction might lead.

“I need to think about this some more, Callum.”

He smiled. “Okay. That’s fine. Now it’s time for us to go inside.”

He moved to open the door and she reached out and touched his hand. “And you won’t try kissing me again?”

He reached out and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “No, not unless you ask me to or give me an indication that’s what you want me to do. But be forewarned, Gemma. If you ask, then I will deliver because I intend to be the man who will give you everything you want.”

He then got out of the car and strolled to the other side to open the door for her.

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