Page 134 of The Convict Gets His Girl

Fingers locked, eyes locked, they stared into each other's soul. Her vulnerability was laid bare, and he didn't back down, didn't run away. He was so much braver than she'd ever been, and the thought of admitting how much she loved him terrified her.

She lifted her hips to meet him harder, challenging him for more, daring him to leave.

Yet he never would. He was as constant as the stars and had always been there, watching her, waiting to make her his. She was stretched, filled by his cock, but it was her soul that stretched at the realization that this was always meant to be.

He thrust deeper, faster, and shifted his hips slightly. The change slammed his pelvis directly onto her clit, and her back bowed to the sensation.

"Oh," she moaned, trying to hold off her orgasm even as her body began to shake.

Her muscles gripped him tighter, and the clench of his jaw showed his concentration. She teetered on the brink, and he thrust once more, hitting that special place that only he could reach.

"Chase!"

Just that one word, and they both went diving off the cliff, bucking and thrashing against each other in a shared release that was long overdue. Their bodies shuddered, and he thrust one last time before holding them both still, pressed against the bed, his hands biting into her wrists.

Wave after wave of pulsing heat filled her, her body squeezing in time to the beat of his. The stress and tension surrounding this holiday flew out the window, leaving a blissful, peaceful humming in her veins.

As they both sank in the after effects, he leaned down, capturing her mouth once more. Long and leisurely, his mouth promised forever. His kiss coaxed her toward a future together, and he angled his mouth for a deeper kiss, mercilessly tempting her to give in to the love that grew between them.

And God, did she want to. He was all she'd ever wanted from a man. Someone who would support her without trying to take over. Someone who would love her and Destini unconditionally, even if she didn't say the right thing or do the right thing. Someone who would work with her to make her dreams come true instead of just blindly telling her no.

Chase did all of that and more. Tears pricked her eyes, and he slowly broke the kiss, kissing her lower lip softly and then her top lip before easing back to stand. His hands trailed down her arms and across her breasts as he stood.

The moment stretched as he met her eyes, his hazel ones clear and full of love and peace. She smiled lazily up at him as he stepped back, helping her stand on shaky legs.

"There. You're much more relaxed now, right? Mission accomplished," she joked, trying to lighten the mood from the intense emotions swirling within her.

He followed her into their bathroom to clean up, slapping her on the ass and making her jump. "As much as I loved it and have been dying to test out the soundproofing in our room, I don't want you to sleep with me just because you think it'll help me feel better."

His serious tone contradicted the playful slap, and she caught her reflection in the mirror. Staring at herself, she couldn't lie.

"Oh, I didn't. Don't worry. I very much wanted to sleep with you. I enjoyed it a lot."

He paused as he turned on the shower, the weight of his stare pressing into her back, but she didn't turn away. The time to tell him how much she loved him had passed, and she was afraid to look at him right now, afraid to tell him exactly how much she enjoyed her time with him.

If history had taught her anything, it was that things seemed perfect before the bottom fell out and everything exploded. It's what had happened just before her mom died, just before she graduated and slept with Chase, just before they'd worked out a plan to be together and then he went to prison.

Something was going to happen. She could feel it in her soul.

* * *

The dining room buzzed with conversation and laughter. For the first time since he got out of prison, he wasn't overwhelmed by his family. He didn't want to escape, didn't hover on the edges.

Plates clinked, children darted between the adults' legs, and the warmth of family filled every corner of the room.

Parker stood near the kitchen, holding court with Gunner and Henry, their voices rising and falling in typical male banter. Maryanne chased Connie, who was attempting to steal another slice of pie. Holly's kids played a complicated game of blocks in the corner, Holly sitting at the table in a way that let her keep an eye on them while talking with Taylor and Ava. Jewel chimed in on his right, but he was caught between the two conversations at either end.

Destini sat to his left, her plate half-empty, her smile wide and genuine as she listened to Hunter and Bill talk horses across from her.

She caught Chase's eye and winked, a gesture so similar to his own that his heart nearly stopped.

"What do you need? More turkey?" Chase asked her, cutting a slice.

"Dad," Destini said, rolling her eyes. "I'm good."

The word "Dad" hung in the air, soft and momentous. Chase froze, his knife suspended midair. For a heartbeat, the room seemed to pause, the background chatter fading into a distant hum.

He glanced at Destini, and she winked again, a soft smile playing on her lips as she acknowledged the weight of the moment before turning back to Hunter's animated discussion about training the foals.

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