Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
There is a lot of guilt associated with what I have to do. A daughter’s guilt. But knowing my father will never feel a hint of guilt over what he’s done to me—or what he wanted to do to North—makes me twice as determined to do the hard thing.
North’s lips press to the nape of my neck. “You’re all tensed up. What are you thinking about, beauty?” His hand travels through the valley of my hip and waist, sending a warm shiver down my spine. “Talk to me.”
I wet my lips and snuggle back, laying my head on his big shoulder. “Remember last night when I told you my father is working with a really dangerous man?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s Curtin Tennison,” I whisper, as if the man himself might be listening in the hallway.
North stiffens behind me, the temperature of his body dropping slightly. “Your father threatened to have Curtis Tennison bump me off if we continue to see each other?”
“That about sums it up.” I take a deep breath, pressure pushing down on my collarbone. “Does that…change things? Now that you know the threat is real?”
“Change things how?”
He seems genuinely perplexed. “With us. Being with me could get you killed—”
“Gracie. Jesus.” He lifts his head and looks down at me, brows drawn together, incredulous. “When are you going to understand that I’m in for life, baby? Let them kill me. It’s better than living five more minutes without you. Don’t ask me…please, don’t ask me again if I’m sure. I’m well past sure. I’m sure enough to go to the grave.”
I exhale unsteadily, making room for my fluttering heart to expand. “That’s not going to happen. I won’t let that happen.”
“We won’t.” His arms tighten around me. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking…we have to go to the police.” Saying the words out loud makes my heart pound loudly in my ears, the room spinning slightly around me. “Once I take this step, though, I can never go home.”
North makes a halting sound. “You’re really going to give it all up…for me?”
“I’m gaining so much more than I’m giving up. So much more. You.”
He holds me tighter. “Then your home is with me now, Gracie,” he whispers into my hair. “I’m going to win that fight on Friday, baby. I’m going to take care of you. Buy us a house where we can wake up together every morning. We’ll have a Christmas tree in the window in December. A wreath on the door. Our last name on the mailbox. I can paint the walls any color you want. And one day, we’ll make one of the rooms into a nursery.”
His manhood is growing thicker against my bottom and that languid, delirious, lovesick feeling wraps around me, my body moving unconsciously, teasing his erection to make it even stiffer, bigger. All this talk of having children, having our own house, is intoxicating. Like a lungful of oxygen after being submerged in a lake. I want it. I want what he’s offering me with every fiber of my being. Because my heart tells me it’s what I need. Tells me it’s right. That anything and everything is right with this man by my side.
“Before any of that, I’m going to put a ring on your finger,” he rasps, his touch traveling over my hip and down, testing the wetness between my legs, plunging a thick finger into my sex, making me sob as he draws it in and out. “Grace Whitlock,” he murmurs in my ear, adding a second finger. “Don’t look at North Whitlock’s wife or he’ll break your fucking jaw. You want people to say that when you walk this fine ass down the street, don’t you?”
I nod, tilting my head for his mouth, moaning when he slicks his tongue up the curve of my neck. “Yes. I want that.”
“I’ll give it to you. Trust me to give everything to you.” My breath catches a moment later when he replaces his fingers with his long, thick shaft, rolling me face down in the hospital bed, shoving the pillow beneath my hips and taking me roughly. “Love my Gracie.”
“Love my North,” I choke out, my teeth beginning to rattle.
That’s my truth. This man is my truth.
Keeping him, keeping what we have, is going to mean betraying everything I know. Everything I’ve grown up with. It’s going to mean setting a bomb and watching it go off. But as my heart swells along with my pleasure, I know there’s nothing that can stop me.
Not when our life together is on the line.
I walk into my house in Beacon Hill and close the door.
I creep toward the staircase, freezing when I hear the rapid approach of footsteps.
My father appears around the corner, phone in hand. “Where the fuck have you been?” He emphasizes every word through clenched teeth. “If you tell me you’ve been with that piece of shit from Southie, I’ll put you in boarding school for the rest of your senior year. Right up until day one of college—so fast your head will spin. Do you understand me?” I don’t respond. I can’t. My legs are trembling and my tongue feels like sandpaper. Even now, even with him red-faced and hurling threats at me, I can’t help feeling the guilt, but it’s a lot lighter than my fear of being without North forever. “I will protect my investment,” he finishes.