The Look of Love (The Sullivans #1)(44)
Author: Bella Andre

“I would if I needed to…”

He had her in his arms before she could finish her sentence. “You just gave me a good idea.” He dropped his eyes to her lush mouth, so lovely, so soft. “Prepare to be distracted.”

“You can give it your best shot,” she challenged him.

“Now you’re in for it,” he said, and then he was kissing her and the game was momentarily forgotten.

It near killed him to follow through on his plan and abruptly let her go. “Your turn.”

Her eyes were fuzzy and unfocused. “My turn to what?”

He smiled at her, a devious smile that told her he had her right where he wanted her.

Her eyes cleared. “Right. The game.” She gave him a mock-hard look. “Prepare to be destroyed, Hotstuff.”

But as she bent over to pick up a red ball, he knew he was long past being destroyed by Chloe.

She was lovely. And his, damn it. Just as he was hers.

It wasn’t one of them having power over the other. It wasn’t a matter of control, of wanting to be in charge.

She had to lift up the hem of her dress every time she got into position for a shot. Her legs were strong and gorgeous, her feet bare and pretty on the sand. There wasn’t an inch of her body he didn’t desire, from her toes to her eyebrows.

Just as there wasn’t any part of her heart that he didn’t love.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked in his most innocent voice.

“Like you’re the big bad wolf and I’m Red Riding Hood.”

“Hmm,” he said, “now that’s an idea for another game to play tonight.” He paused a beat. “When I win.”

He barely heard her muttered, “Like hell” before she let the red ball roll from her fingertips.

Her ball slammed into his with perfect precision, knocking his blue ball completely out of the game.

Straightening up, she gave him such a gleeful look—so pretty, so pure, so sweet to the core—it was all he could do not to fall on one knee in the sand and propose to her right then and there.

“One more perfect shot and I win,” she told him with great satisfaction. “And then you’re mine.”

He could sprint around a track, row across a lake without losing his breath. But with Chloe, it happened all the time.

He saw the way her hand trembled as she picked up the final red ball. She looked at him, held his gaze for a long moment before turning back to the game and letting the ball go in one graceful roll, where it landed right next to the jack.

And she won.

But instead of turning to him with a victorious cheer, she simply stood and stared at the balls. Finally, she turned back to him. “I guess we should go now.”

He wanted to tell her it was just a game. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her there was nothing to be worried about.

But something stopped him—the same thing that had stopped him from heading into the city over the past four days and taking her ex apart.

Chase knew Chloe’s strength, could sense how deeply rooted it was in her from that first moment on the side of the road.

But it wasn’t enough that he knew it.

Chloe needed to know her own strength, too. And that loving him wouldn’t ever diminish it.

Walking over to where she stood, he held out his hand to her. And waited for her to make up her mind about tonight. About whether she was going to claim not just her spoils…but all of him, body and soul.

Finally, she reached back to him and just as their fingers slid together, said, “It would have been so much easier if you had won.”

“I know,” he said, “but I never stood a chance of holding on to my heart with you.” He held her gaze. “Not for one single second.”

Chapter Seventeen

Anything.

Everything.

Chloe’s mouth grew drier and drier during their drive back to Marcus’s winery, her heart pounding harder and harder.

She tried to talk herself around all the reasons she shouldn’t be freaking out.

1. She wasn’t a scared virgin.

2. She and Chase had already had sex lots of times.

3. He loved her.

4. And she was pretty damn sure she was falling in love with him.

Oh God, that was exactly the problem.

She loved him.

Chloe wasn’t actually sure it would be easier to be the one in control of their lovemaking tonight if she didn’t love him, but two bodies coming together, a tangle of mouths and hands and limbs that were a world apart from emotion, from love, seemed so much easier all of sudden.

Just sex. That had been what she’d wanted. Or, at least, it had been all she’d told herself she wanted from Chase.

But her heart knew better.

Her heart had always known exactly what it longed for.

And her heart would never deny that love—pure, honest love—was all she’d ever wanted. All she’d ever needed.

A part of her was surprised that Chase hadn’t tried to ease her nerves during the drive. She could feel his concern, just as much as she could feel his desire. She knew he didn’t like watching her sit beside him with her insides shredded and torn. But instead of jumping in to save her, instead of trying to smooth everything over for her, he was giving her space to work things out on her own.

God, she only loved him more for that, for the faith he had in her to know the right thing to do, even when she was convinced she didn’t have the first clue.

As they drove through the Sullivan Winery gates, Chase reached for her hand and she could feel his confidence, his love, settle in through her skin, shimmying in past her flesh to her bones, all the way down to her soul.

A smile finally came to her lips, the first one since she’d won their game and realized what she’d done to herself. “Let’s go in.”

They let go of each other’s hands only long enough to get out of the car. It felt so right to walk beside Chase, to feel his strength, his steadiness beside her. Instead of waiting for him to open the door, she put her hand on the unlocked doorknob and pushed it open, leading the way into the living room.

“That first night, when you brought me here, I was scared,” she admitted. Strange how that was the easy part of her admission. Harder, so much harder, was saying, “Somehow, even then, even when I didn’t think I’d ever be able to feel anything again, I wanted you.” She put her hands on either side of his face. “I wanted to touch you.” She brushed her fingertips over his jaw, then up against his cheekbones and into his hair. “I wanted to know if you’d make my skin burn the way it is now.” She pressed up on her tippy-toes and said, against his mouth, “And I wanted so badly to taste you here.”