The Look of Love (The Sullivans #1)(53)

She felt her lips open, felt air rush from them in the reverse of a gasp. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

No. God, no, she shouldn’t want what anything entailed.

“Everything?”

He ran his fingers over a lock of her hair. “Everything, Chloe.”

She’d already done more wild things with Chase this week than she had before in her whole life. Bathtub sex. Outdoor sex. Up against the wall sex.

She tried to tell herself there couldn’t be more, but it was no use.

She knew there was. Simply because she’d already been fantasizing about it. About doing all of those forbidden things she’d once wanted, things she’d been told were wrong to want.

“And if you win, lovely Chloe, I’m yours to do with as you wish.”

Oh God. She honestly didn’t know if she wanted to win...or lose.

* * *

Chase had never played bocce ball before, but he and his siblings had often played similar games where they hurled rocks at a target. At the outset of the game, Chase had been fairly certain he’d win. It didn’t take him long to realize he should have known better.

By the time they were down to the final point, 14–13, Chloe’s lead, he told her, “You’re really good at this.”

She smiled up at him. “I know.”

He loved the playful way she kissed him, none of those dark shadows in her eyes for the time being. “Are you trying to distract me?” he asked.

“I would if I needed to...”

He had her in his arms before she could finish her sentence. “You just gave me a good idea.” He dropped his eyes to her lush mouth, so lovely, so soft. “Prepare to be distracted.”

“You can give it your best shot,” she challenged him.

“Now you’re in for it,” he said, and then he was kissing her and the game was momentarily forgotten.

It near killed him to follow through on his plan and abruptly let her go. “Your turn.”

Her eyes were fuzzy and unfocused. “My turn to what?”

He smiled at her, a devious smile that told her he had her right where he wanted her.

Her eyes cleared. “Right. The game.” She gave him a mock-hard look. “Prepare to be destroyed, Hotstuff.”

But as she bent over to pick up a red ball, he knew he was long past being destroyed by Chloe.

She was lovely. And his, damn it. Just as he was hers.

It wasn’t one of them having power over the other. It wasn’t a matter of control, of wanting to be in charge.

She had to lift up the hem of her dress every time she got into position for a shot. Her legs were strong and gorgeous, her feet bare and pretty on the sand. There wasn’t an inch of her body he didn’t desire, from her toes to her eyebrows.

Just as there wasn’t any part of her heart that he didn’t love.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked in his most innocent voice.

“Like you’re the big bad wolf and I’m Red Riding Hood.”

“Hmm,” he said, “now that’s an idea for another game to play tonight.” He paused a beat. “When I win.”

He barely heard her muttered, “Like hell” before she let the red ball roll from her fingertips.

Her ball slammed into his with perfect precision, knocking his blue ball completely out of the game.

Straightening up, she gave him such a gleeful look—so pretty, so pure, so sweet to the core—it was all he could do not to fall on one knee in the sand and propose to her right then and there.

“One more perfect shot and I win,” she told him with great satisfaction. “And then you’re mine.”

He could sprint around a track, row across a lake without losing his breath. But with Chloe, it happened all the time.

He saw the way her hand trembled as she picked up the final red ball. She looked at him, held his gaze for a long moment before turning back to the game and letting the ball go in one graceful roll, where it landed right next to the jack.

And she won.

But instead of turning to him with a victorious cheer, she simply stood and stared at the balls. Finally, she turned back to him. “I guess we should go now.”

He wanted to tell her it was just a game. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her there was nothing to be worried about.

But something stopped him—the same thing that had stopped him from heading into the city over the past four days and taking her ex apart.

Chase knew Chloe’s strength, could sense how deeply rooted it was in her from that first moment on the side of the road.

But it wasn’t enough that he knew it.

Chloe needed to know her own strength, too. And that loving him wouldn’t ever diminish it.

Walking over to where she stood, he held out his hand to her. And waited for her to make up her mind about tonight. About whether she was going to claim not just her spoils...but all of him, body and soul.

Finally, she reached back to him and just as their fingers slid together, said, “It would have been so much easier if you had won.”

“I know,” he said, “but I never stood a chance of holding on to my heart with you.” He held her gaze. “Not for one single second.”

Chapter Seventeen

Anything.