The breath filling her lungs turned hot as reality coursed through her. Even if she wanted to be that sweet, flowers-and-hearts girl, she wasn’t wired that way. And neither was he. She could either keep trying to convince herself she could be or accept what was. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. What she needed—wanted—danced on her lips, the forbidden desire they’d playfully mentioned earlier tonight hovering in the silence between them. Capture. Force.
How often in the last few weeks had she wondered what it would be like to see Grant really let go? Despite everything they’d done together, she always sensed he was being careful with her, like he was afraid to show her too much darkness. But she craved that from him.
“Tell me what you want, Charlotte,” Grant repeated, his voice like the far-off rumble of a thunderstorm. “And I’ll do it.”
She pushed herself upright, her resolve calming the disjointed emotions battling inside of her. She met his stoic gaze in the mirror, her own expression reflecting the confidence in her decision, but also the underlying trepidation inherent in it. She turned around to face him.
“Well?”
She swallowed past the kink in her vocal cords. “I want you to make me do it.”
TWENTY-SIX
The flicker of surprise that crossed Grant’s features at Charli’s request was as quick as a blink, but she hadn’t missed it. He unfurled his arms from their crossed position over his chest, his fingers flexing at his sides. “Tell me your safe word, Charlotte.”
Her heart pounded so hard, she wondered if her ribs would have a permanent imprint. “Texas.”
His eyes seemed to turn black in the soft light of the bedroom. He leaned over slowly, his mouth brushing the shell of her ear. Then one whispered word filled her mind. “Run.”
Her body reacted before her mind kicked in, her bare feet squeaking against the wood floor as she juked around Grant and took off into the hallway. Her house wasn’t big, but she had the advantage of knowing every hiding place and every room with a lock. He gave her a few seconds’ head start, so she slammed her office door to make him think she was hiding in there and headed to the kitchen instead. The attached laundry room had a lock and had another door that led to the screened-in porch on the back of the house. That could work.r: Roni Loren
“Smart,” Grant said. “Maybe you should be his boss instead of the other way around.”
“I wish.”
Grant made the turn onto her street and stared out at the road. “You know you could always stay at The Ranch and tell Trey and the rest of the guys who turned you down for the position to go fuck themselves. I could cover your expenses until you find something else.”
His words sounded off the cuff, but the shift in his posture said otherwise. She stared at him, the suggestion stalling her ability to respond for a second. Was he seriously suggesting that she stay? The thought of having something longer term with him tugged at a longing deep within her bones, but she knew that it would eventually end badly. After all, he’d said she could stay at The Ranch, not with him. She had no interest in being some woman he kept around for occasional entertainment.
“I’m not going to quit my job,” she said. “And I’m definitely not going to let you pay me for sex.”
He shot her a come-on-now look. “You know that’s not what I was suggesting. I just hate to see you working so hard for people who don’t appreciate your skills. You’re busting your ass, and they don’t even pay you enough to afford a safe car to drive. I have the means to help you if you needed time to find something different.”
“I appreciate the thought. But I can take care of things myself,” she said, straightening in her seat.
“You don’t always have to, though,” he said quietly, almost more to himself than to her.
She didn’t have an answer to that.
His truck rumbled up her driveway, and she couldn’t help the little pang of sadness that hit her seeing her house so dark and lonely. Her home wasn’t much, but it’d been her first real place after moving out of her family’s house, so it always gave her a sense of pride knowing she’d gotten it on her own. And though Grant’s guest cabin was great, nothing could replace having your own things around you.
Grant shut off the engine. “Give me your keys. I want to check inside and make sure everything’s okay before you go in.”
“I’m sure nothing else has happened. They took everything they could possibly want the first time.”
He held out his palm. “Better to be safe, freckles.”
She sighed and dropped her keys in his hand. He reached past her and unlocked the glove compartment, removing his handgun. Her first instinct was to protest, but if anything was wrong in the house, she’d want Grant to have protection. “Be careful, okay? I’d rather not end the evening with a dead date.”
He smirked. “Aww, nice to know you care, freckles.”
She rolled her eyes, but the move was forced. The truth was she did care. Too much probably. And the more they spent time together, the more her heart was digging roots into the slippery slope they were both residing on.
“Don’t come in until I give you the all clear.” He hopped out of the truck and headed toward her front door, scanning the area as he went.
He disappeared inside the house for a few long minutes, no doubt examining every nook and cranny, then finally stepped back onto the porch. He looked so big standing there in front of her dainty white house—like the big, bad wolf ready to blow it down. He leaned against a post and sent her a smile that promised sin.
Her stomach did a little flip. She pushed open the truck’s door and climbed out. “Everything looks all right?”