Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Any good?” I supply.
“Yeah,” he says on a harsh swallow.
My hand glides down his stomach, over his abs. “Grant, there is no man I want more than you. No one I want to fuck so thoroughly. No one who turns me on like you.” I kiss his smile, wanting to add and there’s a reason for that. But I don’t know how to venture into those shark-infested feelings waters now, or whether I should. Clean and simple is my MO, so I keep it that way. “You do it for me. You just do.”
“You really do it for me. In kind of every way,” he says, putting himself out there once again.
Like he always has.
Since the morning he said he wanted to sleep with me. Since the night he told me he was a virgin.
Does he realize what’s happening here? Does he feel all the same things I do?
My chest tightens with need. With desire. But none of it is sexual. All of it is real.
I am . . .
My God . . . Emma nailed it.
I am besotted with Grant Blackwood.
And that’s all new. Entirely virgin terrain. Words stick in my throat. My mouth goes desert dry. A wrecking ball slams into me.
It’s so obvious it’s embarrassing.
It’s so patently apparent what’s happening to me.
I’ve spent my adult life with neat, compartmentalized off-season affairs. I meet men, I date them, I romance them. We do it up right. Fly to exotic locales, drive fast cars, play hard, fuck harder.
And I say goodbye at the end.
With barely a second thought. Never a look back. When endings grow complicated, I work even harder to keep the men in the past.
I control everything, and I need that control to keep my life together. To keep baseball in the center of it all. Baseball—the thing that saved me from my father, that saved me from me.
And now, I’m tempting fate.
Gambling with my most prized possession. The game I love.
And for what?
My chest clutches, my heart hammering viciously against my rib cage since it knows the answer, has for some time now.
For this.
This soul-deep connection.
Grant Blackwood is my undoing because he gets me. He understands me. He gives more of himself to me than anyone ever has.
I want him beyond these walls, beyond this room, beyond tonight.
Only, I can’t have him for keeps.
There is no way for us to work.
But at least there’s tonight. I reach for his gorgeous face, slide a thumb along his jaw, and lock eyes with him. His blue orbs flicker with vulnerability and something new too.
Hope.
Just raw hope.
“I’m glad you waited. I’m glad it was me,” I say, starting with that bare truth.
Grant’s lips curve in the start of a smile. “Me too.”
“Being your first was incredible. Sex with you was incredible,” I add.
A light shrug comes my way. “I have nothing to compare it to, but I’d have to agree.” He stops and corrects, “Wait. Hold on. I can compare it to my fantasies, and it was better. Worlds better.” He’s found his confidence again, but he doesn’t have to be all swagger and charm with me. I love seeing all his sides—his insecurities and his fears. I love, too, helping him through some.
And having him here to help me through mine.
Like this one—offering a real and true piece of my heart.
But he deserves it.
“Do you know why it was so good between us? So good for me?” I ask, digging down deep to find the guts to say something truly daring, something incomparably risky.
“Tell me.” His tone latches onto mine, hangs on my every word.
“I’m not more experienced than you in some things. Because with you, I feel like I’m experiencing everything for the first time too,” I say, trying that on as I start into a topic that’s terribly new. It’s like stepping off a cliff. I’ve no idea what’s down below—if I’ll land on soft grass or jagged rock.
His voice is quiet in the night. “How so?”
My heart climbs into my throat, and I wince. This is so fucking uncomfortable. This out-of-control feeling wrenches my guts.
Grant and I, we’re out of control. We’re spilling past all my boundaries. Scrambling over all my walls.
But I don’t want to stop. I want more, and more, and more.
I swallow roughly and pour out as much of my heart as I can possibly spare. “I am so crazy for you, Grant. I don’t know what happened in the last few days, but that’s how I feel. Out-of-my-mind crazy. I know this has to end, but I don’t want it to end. I want you to be mine,” I say in a rush of words and emotions, and horribly messy feelings—feelings I wish I didn’t have. But they’re here. Lodging into my chest, wedging into my brain as I add, “All mine. Only mine.”