I nod.Mom’s room is downstairs, and Blane and Grace are upstairs at the front of the house.My room sits at the back, past a bathroom and a spare bedroom—as far from everyone else as you can get under this roof.
We quietly climb the stairs, and because I’ve lived here all my life, I know which floorboards to avoid so as not to make a sound.Blane is the last person I want to see.
The moment we step inside my room, she turns toward me—eyes dark, breath trembling—and reaches for the hem of her sweater.I stop her gently, closing my hands over hers.
“Let me.”
Her inhale is sharp, sweet, surrendering, and she nods, eyes boring into mine.
Reluctantly, I release her hands to cup her cheek, thumb running tenderly over her swollen bottom lip.I’ve never wanted anyone this badly, even if I know better than to want her.This can’t end well.
I grab the edge of the fabric, hands shaking, and lift slowly.My knuckles brush the soft skin of her stomach, and I pull upward, discarding the sweater onto the floor.Even in the dim light, she’s stunning.Skin flushed, chest rising fast, every line of her curves drawing me forward.
My palms skim her sides, memorizing her narrow waist and the soft flare of her hips, the way her nipples are tight and hard, poking through the black lace of her bra.Fuck, I can’t tear my eyes away from her.She drives me crazy.
Not satisfied with my lingering appreciation, or perhaps just as needy as I am, Grace leans into my touch, hands sliding up my arms, nails grazing lightly into my flesh.Her lips part like she’s about to say something.But instead, she pulls on the back of my neck, bringing me down for another kiss.
Oh, yeah, needy.
The kiss is deeper than before, demanding and almost desperate.Her mouth begs to be devoured, claimed, and I’m more than willing to give her what she wants.Fuck, what I need.My head swims and knees weaken.
Our bodies are flush now, her soft breasts molding to my chest, and my erection presses into her stomach.When her fingers slip beneath my shirt to trace the ridges of my stomach muscles, my breath hitches.I pull away to tug the T-shirt over my head, letting it drop somewhere behind us.
Grace steps back and the intense lust in her gaze nearly brings me to my knees.Then her hands are exploring me, slow strokes across my chest, down my stomach, making it impossible to think about anything but the feel of her.
“Grace.”My hands twitch, craving to undress her as my cock throbs with the ever-loving need to be inside her.
Even if at the same time my mind screams to slam the brakes.I haven’t forgotten who she is and why she’s here.And most importantly, who I am.
“What?”Her voice is husky as she presses onto her toes and kisses me again.
My hands cup her face as I pull away and press my forehead to hers.“This is a bad idea.”
I want to weep as that tiny, insistent voice inside of me that’s hoping she comes to her senses.One of us has to, and it isn’t going to be me.If she doesn’t put a stop to this, I don’t have the willpower to do the smart thing.
A slow, seductive smile skates across her puffy pink lips.“The worst idea.”
Before I can clarify what she means, her lips are on mine again, and her hands are at my belt, undoing the button and zipper of my jeans.
Mother of Christ.
My hand wraps around her wrist, stopping her fingers from slipping beneath my boxers.“Wait—if you want to stop this, all you ever have to do is say so.”
Her gaze softens.“Maddox, I’m going to make this easy for you and be clear about what I want.”
I nod and swallow the boulder-size lump forming in my throat.She’s going to do what I didn’t have the balls to do, and I might weep at my stupidity.
“Maddox, fuck me.”
Chapter25
Grace
Maddox looks down at me, eyes searching, as if he’s afraid he might be imagining what I’m trying so hard to show him.What my words made clear.
I want him to fuck me.Need him to.And in case he needs more time to process, I hold his gaze.
He isn’t wrong.