Page 37 of Hart of Hope
Suddenly, I felt like a teenager who’d been kissed for the first time. Back then, it had been puberty driving my body’s actions. But I wasn’t a teenager any longer, nor did I get an instant erection with any woman, at least since I’d learned to control my urges. Grace wasn’t any woman, though.
Three years of thinking what it would be like to really kiss her were narrowing to this pinpoint decision—to crash my mouth to hers or walk away now.
I was gripping her wrist, feeling her pulse race under my thumb. Three years of restraint warred with the way she was looking at me now. All that fire I’d glimpsed in the depths of her gorgeous eyes was aimed straight at me.
“Grace.” Her name came out rough. A warning. A prayer. “We shouldn’t.”
I didn’t let go of her wrist. Didn’t step back. Every instinct honed from years of willpower screamed that this was a complication I couldn’t afford. Not with Arturo breathing downmy neck. Not with whatever game Sabine was playing. Not with Duke’s trust hanging in the balance.
She swayed closer, her free hand fisting in my shirt. “Then tell me you don’t want this. Tell me I’m imagining the way you look at me and the words you whispered in my ear.”
Christ. I’d spent years building walls, keeping women at arms’ length. But she was taking a hammer to those walls and cracking through bit by bit.
“It’s not about want.” I released her wrist, only to cup her face, my thumb brushing her bottom lip. Such a simple touch that had me as hard as a rock. “I’m not the man for you, baby girl. Danger will always follow me, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”
“I’m not a woman who needs protecting.” Her breath hitched as my thumb traced her lips.
The last thread of my control snapped. I crashed my mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp. She tasted like coffee and something sweeter—vanilla.
Her hands slid up my chest and around my neck, pulling me closer as she opened for me.
I backed her against the kitchen island and lifted her onto it without breaking the kiss. Her legs wrapped around my hips, and Jesus Christ, the heat of her against me nearly undid me right there.
Years of wanting, of denying, of watching her from a distance—all of it poured into that kiss—and I was teetering on a dangerous edge of loyalty versus desire.
13
GRACE
Holy hell, Brian’s kiss was more than I imagined and everything I wanted. The crush I had sparked into something more—need, want, desire.
His large hands gripped my hips, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp against his mouth. I was kissing my brother’s best friend, and for a split second, I tensed. But Brian wanted this as much as I did. I could feel it in his touch.
This wasn’t the time to care about what Duke thought. However, I didn’t want to drive a wedge between two men who had been thick as thieves since their teenage years. This was my life, though. If Brian made me happy, then Duke had to accept that.
My body relaxed as I threaded my fingers through his hair and pulled him closer. He tasted of bourbon and barely leashed control as he growled, his hands roaming my body.
For the first time ever, I had a tickling feeling in my stomach over a man rather than disgust or fear of any man touching me. Brian was making me feel like I was burning up from the inside out, as though his kiss could undo years torture from men who had treated me like a slave.
His stubbled jaw scraped deliciously against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. Every brush of his tongue against mine made my head spin.
Maybe there was hope that my future could include a family and a man who would do anything for me with gentleness and care.
His hand slid up my back, and I arched into him.
Suddenly, he broke away, his breathing ragged, his lips swollen, his face contorted.
The loss of contact was like a bucket of cold water thrown over me.
“Grace.” My name came out like a curse. Like I was the one at fault. “We can’t?—”
“Because of Duke,” I answered for him, swallowing down the need to scream and cry.
He held his head and walked away. “Yes, I promised him a long time ago that I would never touch you, only protect you.” His voice cracked onprotect.
I met him at the floor-to-ceiling window. Dusk was settling over the city, with blue and orange hues streaking high above the buildings.
“Duke doesn’t decide who you’re with. He can’t stop you.”
