Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
“Your grandmother. You’re a Kingston, son, and before I die, you will be claimed. That will be my gift to you. A ticket out of this hellhole.”
My temples start to throb and data punches at my mind like fists on a bag. I start to lose reality and I can’t hold onto the balls anymore. I try. I try to squeeze them, but they tumble to the ground. I can’t think. I can’t see beyond what the numbers want to say to me. I sink to my knees and in the depths of thousands of numbers, I see only one thing. That old lady with the red hair’s disdainful look as she’d looked at my mother and called her a con artist right before she turned her attention to me, “The little bastard?”
I blink back to the present, my knuckles white where I hold the banister. I’m not a little bastard now. I’m a big fucking bastard that could hurt that woman. Harper slides under my arms in front of me, her hands pressed to my ribcage, heat radiating from her palm and down my arms. “I’m sorry,” she says. “She just—”
“Choose now. Her or me.”
“You,” she says immediately. “There’s no question there. You, Eric. If you would have given me the chance, I would have shown you that a long time ago.”
“You were always one of them.”
Pain darts through her eyes. “I was never one of them, but clearly, I’m a fool. You’ll never believe that.” She tries to duck under my arms again and my leg captures hers, blocking her way.
“Actions speak louder than words.”
“Exactly,” she says. “I made a mistake tonight. I know that, but you give me no room to be human. I’m perfect or I’m a Kingston. I can’t do this. I can’t feel what I feel for you and have you destroy me the way you want to destroy them.” She tries to move away again but I don’t even think about letting her free.
“Let me go,” she demands, her voice trembling. “Let me go and maybe this time I’ll have the reality check to finally let you go.”
“What do you feel, Harper?”
“Anger.”
I cage her against the railing, my legs shackling hers. “You said you can’t feel what you feel if I’m going to destroy you. What do you feel?”
“Too damn much for a man who knows nothing but his own hatred. For a man who wants to destroy everyone attached to this family, and that means me.”
“If anyone can destroy anyone, it’s you. You could, if I gave you the opportunity, if I trusted you enough, you could destroy me like no one else ever dreamt of destroying me.”
“If you trust me? Because you don’t?”
“Why should I give you that power? Why, Harper?”
“You shouldn’t,” she whispers, her voice a rasp of emotion. “It’s too much. Just like I shouldn’t with you. I can’t do this.”
She means it. She’s done, and the very idea shreds me. Her words radiate through me and shift something inside me. I need this woman and damn it, I’m about to lose her. I know she could destroy me, but the bottom line is I don’t fucking care. I cup her face, and tilt her gaze to mine. “It’s not much with you, Harper. It’s never enough. And I’m not used to feeling like this. I don’t know if I’m coming or going. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Her fingers curl on my chest, and she whispers, “Try not pushing me away.”
“Does this feel like I’m pushing you away?” I cover her mouth with mine, and I don’t just kiss her. I devour her, and I demand more than ever before, because I finally understand the way Grayson craves his woman, the way he will do anything for her, risk anything for her. There is no such thing as too much with this woman; even if she becomes the end of me.
Chapter thirty-seven
Harper
With the banister at my back and Eric in front of me, kissing me, his hands all over my body, it’s like something has snapped between us. It’s a matter of seconds, it seems, before my pants are off and his are open, a condom in his hand. It’s the condom that gets to me again, driving home how much I need to talk to him about certain things I haven’t yet, but now doesn’t feel like the time. Now really isn’t the time because he’s already kissing me again, lifting my knee to his hip and pressing inside me.
Another few seconds and my legs are wrapped around his waist, and our version of makeup sex is wild, fast, and hard. We’re both shuddering to release far too quickly, and yet it’s somehow perfect. I come back to reality with my face in his neck and him carrying me to the bathroom. He sits me on the sink, pulls out of me, and presses his hands on either side of me, anger burning in his eyes that sex clearly did nothing to tame. In fact, if anything, the opposite. He’s angrier now, like he’s pissed that he couldn’t help but fuck me. “What is happening right now?”