As she’d done earlier, Charity dropped her defenses and leaned toward me. Then again, it was probably just a ploy, something women learned from the time they were little girls. Look weak, and the man will turn into mush. Not this guy. Not anymore.
“I’m with you, aren’t I?” she purred seductively, her long black lashes batting over her baby blue eyes.
I closed my eyes to cut off my view, doing my best to ignore the intense pounding in my chest. “Yeah, but I don’t know what he said to you.”
“Does it matter?”
I shrugged.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she said, inching closer, her mouth so close I could taste the sweet lemon on her breath. “I won’t talk about him if you’ll stop talking about her. I don’t really want to hear about your ex-wife, and I definitely don’t like it when you compare me to her when you don’t even know me.”
My heart pounded harder, almost painful, and even though I knew we’d never go anywhere, I wanted to believe for just a little while that she could be mine, that I could want a woman in my life again for more than a few hours. Putty, I was. Total mush. The day was nearly over anyway. I’d start standing my ground tomorrow.
I pulled her to me, burying my head into her thick dark hair that felt like silk against my face. “Just for tonight, could we pretend …” Her breathing deepened as I worked my lips down her neck, over her bare shoulder. “ … that there’s no one else. That you’re mine.” The dress she wore, some sort of sweater dress with a neckline that rested on her shoulders, had been calling to me all night. Her creamy skin had made my fingers ache, wanting to skim the edges of that neckline, wanting to tug the fabric down a few inches to reveal the swell of her breasts that had increased in size when we’d kissed. She wanted me, too.
“We can … pretend,” she gasped out between breaths.
I moved my hands up her neck then, like before, and curled my hand around the back of her head and pulled her to me. My mouth crushed hard against hers, wanting to taste her again. My other hand found its way around her back, pulling her into my arms. I scooped her up, carrying her to my bedroom. I wanted her, and if she was willing to pretend she wanted me, I wanted her all night, every night. We’d work out all the other differences later. The one thing I knew without a doubt was that we’d be dynamic together in bed. It’d been three months since I’d had sex, so I was aching all over. It wasn’t everything in a relationship, but it was a damn good start.
Charity wrapped her hands around the back of my neck, and nestled her face against my cheek, letting me know she was okay with me carrying her to my bedroom.
The rap on the door came loud and fast, the kind of knock that made you know something was wrong. I lowered her to her feet.
Charity’s eyes were wide and round. “No, Brock. Don’t answer the door.” She tugged on my hand as the knocks got louder. “It might—”
“Just a second, darlin’. Something must be wrong. I never have company. My friends don’t even know where I live. I’ve only been here a little more than a month. Maybe it’s my boss. Tom’s been through a lot, and we’ve become good friends. If something’s happened to him, I’m all he has.” I touched her face as she stared up at me, looking more fragile and sweet than she’d looked all night. “I’ll be right back, Charity.”
I walked to the front door and peeked through the peephole. It wasn’t Tom. It was a woman. It looked like she was crying. Her head was lowered so I couldn’t see her face, but her body was wracking back and forth. Maybe a neighbor.
Just in case, I grabbed my gun off the shelf in the coat closet by the door. I’d heard of home invasions that started like this.
I inched open the door. “You okay, Ma’am?”
The girl … no, not a girl. Caitlyn. “Cat? What’s the matter? Are you okay?”
“I’m so sorry, Brock.”
I stashed my gun back on the shelf and walked outside, pulling the door closed behind me. “What do you mean? What happened? Is your dad okay?” Other than something happening to her father, I couldn’t think of any other reason why my ex-wife would call me a hundred times, then show up on my doorstep.
She wiped at her eyes. “I was so stupid, Brock, but thankfully it’s not too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“Us … we’re not over.”
I huffed out a laugh. Caitlyn was a spoiled girl who would never grow up. “Cat, we’re divorced. You had your father fire me. Yes, we’re over.”
“We’re not over, Brock. We’re connected forever now, so we have to make this work. I’m gonna have your baby.”
I hope you enjoyed this sneak peek of Love Until It Hurts. You can download it now from Amazon.com or find links to it and all my bestsellers on my website, www.CarmenDeSousaBooks.com.
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Love Like Crazy (Crazy Love Book 1) Page 33