Playing For Her Heart - Megan Erickson Page 0,55

gripped his wrist with her fingers, leaning into his hand.

“Hi, Chloe,” he said. “I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful than you right now.”

She tried to stop the tears, but they came anyway. She’d known this would be hard, but she hadn’t expected to be this emotional. She hadn’t expected to feel so raw and exposed but she should have known. This was Grant after all. He’d always been able to see right through every facade she threw up.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” she said. “But I had to put my heart back together. I had to get my head straight, before I could commit to you. And I’m still nervous. I’m still worried that I’m not going to be everything you need. But I want to try.”

Grant shook his head, the tender expression never leaving his face. “I don’t need anything. I just want. I want you, Chloe. All of you.”

She didn’t even flinch when he said her name while his thumb caressed the corner of her mouth. It felt…good. And right. Her heart was definitely back in her chest, because now it was beating double-time at his words. It was her—Chloe—present in that moment with Grant. How had she gotten so lucky?

He wore only a pair of sweats slung low on his hips. She ran her hands up his stomach, over his chest, before laying her palms on his shoulders.

“When you took off your shirt in the hotel room that first time, I got into the role and imagined you had these muscles from, you know, Aric’s grand revenge plot.” She brushed his biceps with the backs of her hands. “I pretended these were from wielding your mighty sword.” She trailed her fingers down his torso and then patted his thighs. “That these legs were from riding your trusty steed.”

“Midnight,” he said softly.

“Yes, your horse Midnight.” She smiled. “And now, well I think these arms are from helping Sydney stir a particularly tough batter and these legs are from climbing your stairs or pacing your office.”

“Chloe…” he whispered, his voice full of reverence.

“I like the reality better than the fiction,” she said. “And I’m not sure I ever thought I’d say that.”

“Fuck, I need to kiss you,” he growled and then his hands were fisting her hair and his lips were on hers, his tongue pressing into his mouth. Her skin was tight and hot all over. She wanted her clothes off. She wanted to touch him as much as possible, full contact.

She ripped herself from his kiss and tore her completely nerdy T-shirt over her head. Grant got the silent memo because he shoved down his sweatpants, stepping out of them like they were fire.

His cock was hard, standing out from his belly like a proud soldier. She kicked off her pants and underwear, then grabbed his shaft, and stroked it once. He groaned and they fell to the bed in a tangle of limbs, with Grant’s body on top of hers.

He gripped her shoulders, pinning her to the bed, effectively slowing the frenzy. She rocked her hips and he moaned. “Chloe, hold on. I want this to be slow, okay? Slow.”

Slow sex was a new concept to her. Fast was the game, get in, get some, and get out before the clock struck midnight and the carriage turned back into pumpkin.

Except she didn’t feel like a pumpkin. She was Chloe, naked with the man of her dreams and yeah…she wanted this to last, too.

“You’re right,” she said breathlessly.

He blew out a calming breath and then began the torture.

If anything happened to Grant, she was going to donate his tongue to science—mental note to ask him if he was an organ donor—because that thing needed to be studied.

He was wicked with it, tracing her collarbone, circling her hard nipples. He dipped it into her bellybutton as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

And then he grinned up at her before sticking his face between her legs and giving her the best oral sex of her lifetime.

He was a master at knowing how fast, how much pressure, and exactly where that little bundle of nerves was that made her toes curl. This time, he added fingers, curling them inside until he touched that same spot he had before, the one no one had ever found. And the dual stimulation had her drenched, writhing on his hand and tongue until she was whimpering in a hoarse voice.

She was so turned on, and the orgasm was such a slow