Home > Charged (Saints of Denver #2)(51)

Charged (Saints of Denver #2)(51)
Author: Jay Crownover

I sighed and rose to my feet in front of him so I could finish closing the buttons. When I got to the ones at the base of his throat I lifted up onto my tiptoes so I could press my lips to the strong cords of his neck before buttoning him all the way up. I really did like the suit, but I definitely liked him better out of it.

I tilted my face up towards him as he put his hands on either side of my face and used his thumbs to caress my cheeks. We had weathered the emotional storm that pounded against us yesterday, and the calm and quiet of the aftermath was something entirely new to me. I wanted to bask in it, absorb it, and let some of that tranquillity that had sunk into my bones calm the chaos that always seemed to rage and collide inside of me.

“I doubt he hates you. You need to give people the chance to forgive you, Avett. You screw up, but then you throw up a wall and wallow in the blame, so deep and thick that you never give anyone the opportunity to tell you that yes, you made a mistake but that’s not the be-all and end-all of things.” His fingers moved to my jaw and I wanted to rub my face against his warm hand and gentle touch like a cat. “You accept the consequences of your actions like a champ, now you need to learn to accept the exoneration as well.” He was sexy when he spoke lawyer to me.

I’d never thought I deserved to be forgiven, so it never occurred to me that anyone besides my father, the one person that had always loved me unconditionally, would be waiting with a pardon and an open heart after all the damage I was capable of creating. I cleared my throat and forced a weak smile. “What I need to do is let you finish getting ready for work. Are you sure you have time to drop me off at my mom’s on your way to court?”

He had offered to let me stay at his place since it was a secure building with a doorman and a security staff, but there was no way I was going to risk breaking or ruining anything in his swanky pad. I was afraid to touch anything, even though he told me no less than ten times to make myself at home and relax. So, since this was as far from home as I could ever be and considering there was no way I was going to relax, I was going to my mom’s house and raiding her closet and hopefully burying the hatchet with her while he went to work. He wasn’t thrilled with my decision. I think he really wanted me to like his space and I did, as long as he was in it. Without him in the elegant and tricked-out loft, I felt like an intruder, like the expensive finishes and imported floor knew I didn’t deserve the right to use them. It might be entirely irrational but I had no desire to spend the day tucked in one spot because I was afraid the appliances would revolt against me and run me out of the place screaming.

“I told you, I’ll make the time to drop you off and I’ll make the time to take you shopping afterwards, if you want to go.” He lifted a blond eyebrow at me in question.

I’d already told him no. I didn’t want him to buy anything for me. Considering how much my family already owed him, the idea of him spending anything else on me made my skin tight and my tummy turn in on itself. It was already going to take a lifetime to pay him back because there was no way I was going to let my dad drain his retirement, on top of losing his home, and all his earthly possessions. I was going to have to figure out a way to pay Quaid back for everything and I wasn’t about to add to that tally.

“I told you.” I reached out and ran my hand over the front of his pants. I heard him suck in a surprised breath as I palmed his impressive package and gave it a squeeze for good measure. “I’m after what’s in your pants, not what’s in your wallet, Quaid.”

I grinned up at him as the flesh in my grip started to swell and rise into my hand. It was an insanely powerful feeling to know that I could make a man that seemed so collected and controlled react instantaneously to a simple touch. I liked that his composure was nowhere to be found when I put my hands on him. I liked that he didn’t think; he simply reacted to me and to how I made him feel.

His thick fingers encircled my wrist and I thought he was going to pull my hand away, but he didn’t. He pressed my palm even flatter against the now fully extended length of his cock under the fabric of his pants and rubbed it back and forth.

“I’m offering you both.” He virtually growled the words at me and when I looked up at him his eyes were almost silver with the way they glowed and lightened as his desire flared to life deep in the depths. He was offering me both, but he didn’t understand why, any more than I did.

We were watching each other intently. There was no veil there, no place for either of us to hide anymore. He knew I was a disaster and I knew he was so much more than he seemed to think he was. I hadn’t lied to him yet, so I wasn’t about to start now.

I moved my other hand to his belt and told him the truth. “I just want you.” And in case my words weren’t enough to prove it to him, I had no problem showing him.

Eyes still locked together, I pushed him back a step so that I could get on my knees in front of him. I kept waiting for him to tell me to stop—after all, he was due in court, and we did have a schedule to keep. But he didn’t utter a peep as I worked the buttery leather of his belt loose, and he didn’t make a sound as I popped the button on his pants or when I pulled the zipper down. He also didn’t protest when I rubbed my cheek against his hot, cotton-covered flesh as I reached for his black boxer briefs. He did thread his fingers on one hand through my multicolored hair and exhale a breath that sounded like it had every ounce of control he possessed in it. I told him to keep the tails of his meticulously ironed shirt out of my way as I eyed that intimidating bulge.

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