Page 104 of The Final Faceoff
She melts into me, her body soft and pliant, curling against my chest like she belongs there. I feel her press her face against my neck, inhaling deeply, like she’s grounding herself in my scent.
I run my fingers through her hair, smoothing the strands back. “You okay?”
She nods against me, her fingers gripping the front of my shirt. “Mmhm. Just . . .” She lets out a small, breathy laugh. “That was a lot.”
I smirk, pressing a kiss to her temple. “A good lot?”
She lifts her head just enough to meet my gaze, her lips curving in a lazy, satisfied smile. “The best lot. You still owe me more. You inside me.”
Something warm tugs at my chest, a deep, consuming need to take care of her. To hold her here, in my arms, and make sure she knows just how much she means to me. “You need my cock inside your cunt, baby? You think you’re ready for it?”
She nods eagerly.
I adjust her in my lap, tucking her close, my hand rubbing slow, soothing circles along her back. “You need anything, Hailey? Water? Something to eat?”
She sighs against me, her fingers playing with the collar of my shirt. “Just you. You’re all I need.”
My throat tightens. Fuck, this girl.
I slide a hand under her dress, not to start anything, just to touch. Just to feel the warmth of her skin, to remind her that I’m here, that I’ve got her. But also that she’s mine, and because she’s mine I’m here to take care of her.
“Me, huh?” I murmur, my fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns along her thigh.
She nods, her lips pressing against my neck in the softest kiss. “Mhm.”
I exhale, tipping her chin up so I can kiss. This time the kiss is all soft lips and gentle pressure, a silent promise against her mouth.
When I pull back, I brush my nose against hers. “I’ve got you, baby.”
She sighs, her body relaxing completely in my arms, and I know—this isn’t just about what happened back there. It’s about everything. The way I take care of her. The way she trusts me to.
I kiss her forehead again, murmuring against her skin. “Always.”
ChapterThirty-Five
Hailey
When to stop running
This has been a long day. Too long, too confusing, too . . . quiet, yet noisy. The confrontation with my father was the breaking point. Jules and I texted after dinner. She’s proud of me for setting some boundaries, and hopes that our father changes his attitude. If not, that’s okay. I have her and our grandparents—and of course, Leif.
And that’s exactly why I can’t sleep. Not because I’m uncomfortable. Not because of pregnancy aches or restlessness. But because he’s here.
Leif. Asleep. Breathe-in, breathe-out, peaceful. He asked me to stay with him after showering. I was . . . how did he put it? Needy. At the pool, then in the shower, and . . . why should I head to my room when I could stay right with him and enjoy the perks of his hands and the comfort of his bed?
My fingers twitch at my sides, aching with the urge to reach out. Just touch him. Not in a way that means something. Not in a way that ruins things. Just to know.
I exhale. I shouldn’t be here.
I should be in my own room. In my own bed. Staring at my own ceiling, counting the seconds until the sun comes up. But instead, I’m here.
Watching him.
Wanting him.
Admitting—finally admitting to myself that I love him.
And that? That’s terrifying.
