Take a Chance (Chance, #1; Rosemary Beach #7)(67)

When I had her safely inside, I closed the door and locked it.

“You okay?” I asked her.

She nodded and stood there and stared at me. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking but I could tell she was battling something.

I took a step toward her and she threw herself into my arms. I hadn’t expected that but I caught her and held her. I realized this was the first time in her life someone had made her the priority. The relief in her body as she pressed against me told me everything I needed to know. My overprotected Harlow had never been protected for her sake, but for the secrets in her family and a woman she didn’t know was alive.

“From now on, you have me,” I told her, and she nodded against my chest.

Harlow

It took them only three hours to find us. Grant closed the blinds and curtains over the windows and glass doors leading out to the balcony. Cop cars were out there, too, and I knew Rush was using every ounce of power he had to get the vultures off me, but it wouldn’t do any good.

Grant was locked in his apartment like an animal because of me. I hated that. I watched him as he peeked outside, and I started to hate myself. I had done this to him. I was selfish and I let him stay with me. I should have run. I should have forced him to leave me. I should have told him that his fear of caring about someone whom he could lose was very real with me. I wasn’t sure how long I’d live. He could never get me pregnant. I’d seen him looking at Rush with Nate, and I knew he wanted that.

But he could never have it with me.

I was defective.

And now I was ruining his life.

Grant turned back around and saw me staring at him. He frowned and made his way over to me in a few long strides.

“I don’t like the look I see on your face. Ignore that shit out there.”

“I can’t. You’re locked in your apartment because of me.”

Grant raised his eyebrows. “You think I care about that? The only problem I would have with that is if you weren’t with me. But you are. And that makes this a damn nice setup.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the teasing look on his face. He never ceased to make me smile. “You’re gonna want out soon,” I told him, trying to remind him of a very real problem.

Grant didn’t argue with me. Instead, he crooked his finger at me. “Get up,” he demanded.

I did as I was told.

He reached out and caressed my cheek with the back of his hand. “Good girl,” he cooed. “Now, take off your clothes,” he said in a stern voice. It should have made me angry, but the dark, sexy undertones only got my attention in a very different way.

“What?” I asked, starting to breathe harder.

“I said to take off your clothes. I know you heard me correctly,” he said slowly.

I thought about arguing but the way he was watching me changed my mind. I reached for the zipper on my skirt and pulled it down, letting the skirt pool at my feet. I grabbed the hem of my shirt with both hands and pulled it up and over my head slowly. If he wanted to play games, I decided I would, too. When I dropped my shirt to the floor, his gaze burned into me. I could almost feel the heat searing my skin. I reached behind and unhooked my bra before letting it fall forward. I let it dangle from one of my hands then dropped it in front of him.

“Panties,” he said in a husky voice.

I took extra effort in shimmying out of them, then stood there while his heated gaze warmed my body and made it tingle in all the right areas.

“No man would regret being locked away with you,” he said in a low voice and reached out to cup one of my swollen, needy br**sts in his hands. “Such responsive n**ples. They don’t even need me to touch them. Hard as candy from just my gaze,” he murmured. I thought I should point out that any woman’s n**ples would get hard if he looked at them like that. But I didn’t want to think about that. I just wanted to think about us. No one else. Just us.

“Waxing that p**sy should be f**king illegal. It’s unfair. A p**sy already that damn perfect shouldn’t be made even more irresistible. A man can only handle so much.” His hand slipped down to cup my bare mound, and I whimpered. I wasn’t sure what game we were playing now, but I liked it.

“Wet. Always so wet. You get wet so easily. What makes you wet? What is it I do to you that makes you wet?” he asked as his fingers slid over my moist heat.

“It doesn’t take much. Just a look from you and I get wet,” I told him.

A pleased smirk touched his mouth and he closed the space between us. “Just a look, really? That’s gonna make it hard for me to keep my hand out of your panties. I already think about kissing you and tasting you all damn day long. Knowing your p**sy is wet is gonna get you f**ked in some dangerous places,” he whispered as he kissed my neck.

I shivered and grabbed his arms to keep my legs from giving out under me. His hand was still working its magic over me, and I was close to having an orgasm between his naughty words and his fingers.

“You were made for me,” he said, causing me to pause. What did he mean by that? It was awfully close to something else. He couldn’t love me. He didn’t know. He wouldn’t love me when he found out.

I wanted to forget. I didn’t want him to say more. I lifted my left leg and wrapped it around his hips, opening myself to him. His fingers sank inside and he groaned.