Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
I took another step. A micro step in my Doc Martens. Then forced myself to do it again.
Away.
Away from Chase Sinclair. And his perfect lips. And stupid dimple. And this dangerous, dangerous desire that sprang up between us like a fount.
I turned, trying to find the courage to flee, and then his hand was on my wrist, yanking me backward.
There were no words.
Just need.
He grasped the back of my head and crashed our lips together. He tasted every bit as incredible as I remembered. Our bodies fit like they were made for this purpose. And oh, I wanted this. I wanted it with every fiber of my being.
But it didn’t change anything.
This kiss changed nothing.
The age difference still existed. It wasn’t going to make my family okay with me dating someone older. Or make our families stop hating each other. This was only going to fan the flames.
And it was unfair.
All of it.
Horribly, wrongfully unfair.
So, despite the fact that I wanted to stay in this moment for all of eternity, I wrenched my head back from him. There was fury in my expression.
“How dare you!” I hissed.
Then, I brought my hand hard against his face. His head snapped to the side, and he stayed here awhile, staring at the wall with fire in his eyes.
My hand stung from the slap, but not as much as the anger coursing through me. His audacity to think that he’d earned that stolen kiss.
Slowly, he turned his face back to me. The look was of a predator, prowling just under the surface of his skin. The one that said he’d do it again and again and he wouldn’t regret it. The one that made me want to let him.
“You were the one who said to wait,” I snarled. His expression didn’t change at my words. “Fuck you.”
I couldn’t stay another second and deal with this. It was hard enough that I wanted it and had to walk away. It was harder still that I could have it, have him, but only in these stolen seconds.
So, I pushed out of his arm and stormed down the hallway toward the back entrance and out of the ballroom. I ignored the elevators and rushed for the ajar stairwell door. I didn’t care that I was several stories up. I needed to burn off the energy of that kiss.
Forget that was the last kiss I’d get from him.
At least before, I’d had our perfect weekend to remember.
Now, even that was spoiled.
And I didn’t know how to reconcile that with the pain I still felt from his absence.
Wanting him was wrong.
Needing him was worse.
Having him was the hardest of all.
11
Chase
Fuck.
Fucking fuck.
I’d fucked up.
It took me a few seconds to process her leaving. The anger and pain and desire in her expression had mingled all into that one slap. I’d been avoiding another hit from a Wright and not ever considered it would come from Harley. And I’d earned it.
I took off before I could think of anything else to do.
She hadn’t deserved it.
I needed to right this wrong.
When I got out to the hallway, she was already gone. Not a sign of her.
“Fuck,” I snarled.
I hustled to the elevator bank and slammed my hand down on the button until it finally dinged open a minute later. I pushed for the lobby floor and tapped my foot relentlessly against the metal bottom. It was taking too long. She’d already taken an elevator, and I was going to miss her. And then there was no way to apologize or fix this.
“Fuck,” I said again, throwing my fist into the elevator. I shook out my hand, ignoring the pain from connecting with the metal, and bounced from foot to foot, preparing to dash after her.
But as I hurried out of the elevator, the door to the stairwell opened, and a breathless Harley stepped into the lobby.
“No,” she said and started walking toward the exit.
“Harley.”
“Chase, don’t.”
She walked through the sliding glass doors and out into the forty-degree weather beyond in her sleeveless dress. She was shivering as she walked away from me.
“Harley, wait, it’s cold,” I said as I followed at her heels.
“I’m not waiting. I already told you that.”
I shucked my jacket off and put it over her shoulders. She jerked to a stop, and I nearly ran into her. She whipped around, her blunt bangs and bob swinging around her face, which was lit with desperation.
“What is this?” she asked as she tugged on the suit jacket. She inhaled sharply, as if even the scent of me on the thing was disarming.
“You were cold.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
“I know,” I told her. “I know.”
“Do you? Are you sure? Because right now, it feels like you’re toying with me, Chase.” She wrapped the jacket tighter around her. “And it’s frankly fucked up. I thought we had something real, and now, you’re playing me like a yo-yo. Do you want me? Do you not want me? Is it only fun when you can knock me off-balance? What is it?”