Page 71 of On the Chase
She didn’t know who moved first. It felt like there was an invisible signal, a silent starting-gun blast that sent them lunging toward each other. Their lips met with an almost painful force, but she barely noticed, too intent on getting as close as she could to Hugh. Her hands slid over his head and clutched the back of his neck, pulling him even tighter in to her. It wasn’t enough. She needed to touch him, to feel his muscles moving under his heated skin.
Her hands dove under his T-shirt, finding that bare flesh she craved as they kissed hungrily. She forgot to breathe until dark crowded the edges of her vision, and then, struck by what she was doing, Grace pulled back, ripping her mouth away from his. They stared at each other, panting.
“What’s wrong?” Hugh asked, his voice little more than a growl. His pupils were dilated, and his mouth was already swollen. She stared at it, mesmerized by his full lips, desperately wanting to kiss him again.
“Your head,” she said, tearing her gaze off his mouth with a huge effort of will. “And your arm. You’re hurt. I shouldn’t be taking advantage.”
He laughed—a short, sharp sound—as he slid his unbroken arm behind her back to pull her impossibly closer. “I’m not feeling any pain when I’m kissing you,” he said. He seemed as fascinated by her mouth as she was by his, if his staring was any indication. “So, please, take advantage of me.” Tipping his head down, he paused with his mouth less than an inch away from hers. “I’m begging you.”
Grace stopped breathing again for a second before she grabbed his head and closed that tiny gap between them. Her lips, already tender from their previous kiss, throbbed at the pressure, but she didn’t mind. Everything—that tiny ache, the heat rushing through her like lava, the feel of his chest in front of her and his iron-hard arm behind her—came together in a rushing flood of need. If she could’ve managed to say a word, she really would have begged Hugh to keep kissing her, to touch her, to undress her and complete her and never leave her alone again.
The magnitude of her feelings overwhelmed her, and she fell deeper into his kiss. Now wasn’t the time to think, she told herself, yanking up his shirt. Now was a time for kissing and touching and stripping down to bare skin.
Hugh pulled back just far enough for her to work his shirt up over his chest, breaking the kiss to yank the fabric over his head and pull one arm free. The other sleeve caught on his cast, and Hugh let it go, leaving the fabric to drape over his casted arm. Grace was fine with that. In fact, with the wide, gorgeous, wonderfully naked male chest in front of her, she was fine with pretty much anything, as long as she got to keep Hugh.
She touched him, stroking across his pecs and strumming her fingers over his abs. It was like touching a work of art come to life, an almost-too-perfect sculpture made from warm, moving marble. The best part was the way he sucked in a breath when she brushed his side beneath his ribs, or when he groaned with pleasure as she lightly scored his nipple with her thumbnail. It was even better when she used her mouth to map his favorite places.
As she explored, discovering all of his secrets with her fingers and lips, he leaned back, watching her with hooded eyes. His hand wrapped around her side at her waist, his grip tightening whenever she found a sweet spot. The bottom hem of her shirt had worked its way up to her ribs, bunching right under her bra. Even his casted arm was in play, his fingertips tracing an invisible pattern on her lower back.
Her clothes felt hot and restrictive, and she abruptly slid off his lap to stand in front of him. His eyebrows bunched in concern in the moment before she yanked her shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. Then his worried look dropped away, replaced by one filled with raw desire.
As she fumbled to unbutton her jeans, her hands shook. It wasn’t fear that caused the tremor this time, though—it was excitement. Reaching for her, Hugh gently brushed aside her unsteady hands and finished unfastening her pants. He looked at her, as if to check whether she wanted him to continue. Instead of answering out loud, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her jeans, stripped them down her legs, and stepped out of them, taking off her socks at the same time.
She straightened, standing in just her panties and bra, wishing that she had one of her cute, matching sets from home instead of her desperate purchase at Grady’s General Store. Then she saw Hugh’s expression, and all of her insecurities dropped away. His gaze moved ever so slowly up her legs and over her body before meeting hers. She’d never seen anyone look as hungry as he did right then, and her entire body flushed as she realized that it was all for her. It was obvious that he wanted her…badly.
The fascinated, heated look in his eyes gave her the courage to reach for the back fastener of her bra, but he placed a hand on her hip, stopping her.
“Wait right here,” he ordered, standing up so quickly that she took a step back to catch her balance. “Don’t move. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t put on any clothes. Please. I’ll be right back.” He hurried up the stairs with an odd gait, a sort of run-and-hop favoring his injured leg.
Grace watched him go, completely confused. Why was he running off in the middle of everything? He’d told her not to get dressed again, which sounded like it meant they were going to start up where they’d left off as soon as Hugh finished his mysterious errand, but it was weird standing there in just her underwear—weird, and a little cold.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she debated whether to ignore his request and get dressed or not. Without his hands and hungry gaze keeping her warm, her skin prickled with goose bumps. She rubbed her arms briskly.Thisis dumb, she thought.Why am I just standing here?
Bending down, she reached for her shirt.
“No!” he cried from the bottom of the stairs with such intensity that she straightened abruptly, yanking her hand away from the shirt as if it were radioactive.
“What?” she asked, holding up her hands, palms out, as if to prove she wasn’t touching any article of clothing.
Without slowing, he jog-hopped the rest of the way to her, returning to his spot on the couch. He hooked her with an arm as he passed, pulling her onto his lap after he sat. Startled, she tumbled down on top of him. It took a few seconds to orient herself, and then she moved into her earlier position straddling his waist. It felt different in fewer clothes, more…naked. Shoving her hair out of her face, she smoothed it over her shoulder. She must have missed some strands, because Hugh imitated her action—only his hand lingered, his fingers rubbing in the best way against her scalp.
“Where’d you go?” she asked, more curious than offended.
In response, he pulled a wrapped condom out of his pocket. Giving her a sideways glance, he promptly started babbling. “Not that we have to actually do anything, or go any further, unless you want to, of course. I just thought, well, you were almost naked, so it seemed like a good idea to be prepared.” He paused, sending her another quick glance. “Just in case.”
That last look did it. She broke into uncontrollable giggles.
“What?” he asked, appearing baffled and offended and more than a little adorable. “I didn’t think it wasthatunlikely. I mean, is the idea of having sex with me that funny?”
“No, no,” she choked out, trying to get her laughter under control. After a couple of deep, hiccupping breaths, she finally managed to talk. “That’s not it. I mean, it was kind of cute how you got all flustered, but I was mostly laughing because you went into the bedroom to get a condom.”
He paused, as if waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t, he threw up his hands in an exasperated gesture that made her want to start laughing again. “So? What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” she said, pressing back fresh giggles. “It’s just that you left me here, mostly naked, in the living room, while you went to the bedroom to get a condom. And then you came back here.” He still looked confused. “To the living room. Most people would have just, you know, both gone to the bedroom at that point.”
“Oh.” His expression lightened as he appeared to consider that, and then he shrugged and pulled her close with his operable arm. “True. Since we’re here now, though, we might as well make the most of it.”
That made her laugh again. Who would’ve thought that she’d be laughing just weeks after fleeing from a vindictive mob boss? She ran her hands over his biceps and onto his shoulders, shocked by her happiness. Despite the residual shock and horror, and her worry about the meeting with Noah tomorrow, she really was surprisingly content, all thanks to the man she was currently straddling. Grace smiled at him. “True.”
