Or had it been during the kiss, when he had shown her just what a real kiss was like? Had he detected that this was her first real kiss? She’d tried following his lead, but when that lead began taking her so many different places and had made her feel a multitude of emotions and sensations she hadn’t been used to, she just gave up following and let him take complete control. She had not been disappointed.
Her first orgasm had left every cell in her body feeling strung from one end to the other. She wondered just how many women could be kissed into an orgasm? She wondered how it would be if she and Callum actually made love. The pleasure just might kill her.
But then, he might have decided that he was the man to give her whatever she wanted after the kiss, when she was trying to regain control of her senses. Did he see her as a novelty? Did he want to rid her of her naiveté about certain things that happen between a man and a woman?
Evidently, he thought differently about how her oldest brother saw things. Well, she wasn’t as certain as he was about Ramsey’s reaction. She was well aware that she was an adult, old enough to call the shots about her own life. But with all the trouble the twins, Bane and Bailey had given everyone while growing up, she had promised herself never to cause Ramsey any unnecessary grief.
Although she would be the first to admit that she had a tendency to speak her mind whenever it suited her and she could be stubborn to a fault at times, she basically didn’t cross people unless they crossed her. Those who’d known her great-grandmother—the first Gemma Westmoreland—who’d been married to Raphel, said she had inherited that attitude from her namesake. That’s probably why so many family members believed there was more to the story about her great-grandfather Raphel and his bigamist ways that was yet to be uncovered. She wasn’t as anxious about uncovering the truth as Dillon had been, but she knew Megan and some of her cousins were.
She stopped walking once they reached the door and Callum pulled a key from his pocket. She glanced around and saw that this particular building was set apart from the others on a secluded cul-de-sac. And it was also on a lot larger than the others, although, to her way of thinking, all of them appeared massive. “Why is your condo sitting on a street all by itself?” she asked.
“I wanted it that way for privacy.”
“And they obliged you?”
He smiled. “Yes, since I bought all the other lots on this side of the complex as buffers. I didn’t want to feel crowded. I’m used to a lot of space, but I liked the area because the beach is practically in my backyard.”
She couldn’t wait to see that, since Denver didn’t have beaches. There was the Rocky Mountain Beach that included a stretch of sand but wasn’t connected to an ocean like a real beach.
“Welcome to my home, Gemma.”
He stood back and she stepped over the threshold at the same exact moment that he flicked a switch and the lights came on. She glanced around in awe. The interior of his home was simply beautiful and unless he had hidden decorating skills she wasn’t aware of, she had to assume that he’d retained the services of a professional designer for this place, too. His colors, masculine in nature, were well-coordinated and blended together perfectly.
She moved farther into the room, taking note of everything—from the Persian rugs on the beautifully polished walnut floors, to the decorative throw pillows on the sofa, to the style of curtains and blinds that covered the massive windows. The light colors of the window treatments made each room appear larger in dimension and the banister of the spiral staircase that led to another floor gave the condo a sophisticated air.
When Callum crossed the room and lifted the blinds, she caught her breath. He hadn’t lied when he’d said the beach was practically in his backyard. Even at night, thanks to the full moon overhead, she could see the beautiful waters of the Pacific Ocean.
Living away from home while attending college had taken care of any wanderlust she might have had at one time. Seeing the world had never topped her list. She was more than satisfied with the one hundred acres she had acquired on her twenty-first birthday—an inheritance for each of the Westmorelands. The section of Denver most folks considered as Westmoreland Country was all the home she’d ever known and had ever wanted. But she would have to admit that all she’d seen of Sydney so far was making it a close second.