He had a meeting with Kelton and errands he had to take care of. He’d promised I was safe in the penthouse. I wasn’t afraid. Heck, I was too tired to be frightened.
“If you need me, I left my new cell number on the kitchen counter,” Denim had said. “Duke’s number is there too. He’s staying at The Monarch.”
I didn’t care where Duke was as long as he wasn’t in my face. I was beyond angry with him for what had happened to Savannah. A sharp pain stabbed my heart every time I thought about her. I kicked myself in the ass for not trying harder to help her.
I knew Savannah would have never straightened up or changed unless she admitted she had problems—drugs, lying, stealing, and of course, Duke Hart. He hadn’t killed her, but he’d had an indirect hand in her demise. I would never forgive him, which might pose a problem if I decided to take Denim back.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t want Denim. More than anything, I wanted us to pick up where we’d left off. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to start a family with him.
He was right. We didn’t need to play games. We both knew each other. We both knew what we wanted. So why shouldn’t I give us another chance?
He’ll break your heart again.I wasn’t listening to the devil in my head. It was time I threw caution to the wind and saw where the road took us. I would like to believe that, as adults, our heads were screwed on better. Denim was a different man. I had seen that the instant he’d walked into the meeting room in prison, the instant we’d locked eyes.
We weren’t teenagers with raging emotions that drove our actions. We’d both had time to grow, think, and decide what we wanted, and I wanted Denim Hart, every freaking inch of him, despite the danger that surrounded him. I knew he would protect me, and I felt safe with him.
Denim and I deserved a second chance. We deserved to start anew and see where our relationship took us. If we didn’t try, we would both wonder what if, and I was tired of playing the what-if game. Life was precious and short, and I shouldn’t waste it because I feared the unknown or feared having my heart shattered.
Suddenly, I wasn’t tired. I eased off the bed and padded across the plush white carpet and into the en suite bathroom. I flicked on the light and found myself standing in an enormous room.
The glass shower tucked in the corner was larger than the entire bathroom in my dinky apartment.
I found the towels in a small closet in the other corner and started the shower. It was time to shed a lot more than the grime coating my body. It was time to let go of the past. I stripped down and examined myself in the mirror over the stone sink. I touched the large bandage on my chest, making sure it was secure. The nurse had given me a small bag of medical supplies, including waterproof bandages.
I couldn’t look at myself any longer. Hopefully when I emerged from scrubbing myself clean, I wouldn’t look like death.
Three hours later, I was squeaky-clean, my hair was dry, and my skin was soft. I’d made coffee, taken inventory of Duke’s sparse kitchen cabinets, and now I was curled up in bed. In a way, I felt like Julia Roberts inPretty Woman.I hadn’t taken a bubble bath, but staying in such an expensive place made me feel pampered.
I’d just closed my eyes when footsteps clamored down the hall. I jolted up and threw off the blankets to see who was there, and a moment later, Denim graced the doorway.
I didn’t move, but not because I was surprised he was there. I was buck naked. It felt nice to have my bare skin on the thousand-thread-count sheets.
He leaned against the doorjamb and raked his heated gaze over me, taking his time when he landed on my breasts.
On command, my nipples hardened.
He licked his lips, pushing his hands through his hair.
Instantly, I imagined him pushing his hard cock into me.
“Do you normally sleep naked?” His voice was husky.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Nope. I was waiting for you.”Bold much, Jade?
His eyes blazed, hungry and heated, as he popped off the doorjamb. “Is that so?” He stalked over with a boyish smile, but there was nothing boyish about Denim Hart. He had broad shoulders, a strong jaw, arms built to protect, hands made to bruise, and lips born to tease, tempt, and drive a woman into a delicious rage.
I grabbed my nipples. “I’m all yours.”
One eyebrow went up. “Don’t fuck with me, Jade. Because when I’m finally inside you, you’re mine. No one else. Not even that douche you were with at the club. This is it for me. You’re it for me.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I planted my feet on the floor and opened my legs. “You should know I’m not the type to play with your head.” I slid my hand between my legs.
He ripped open his shirt, and buttons flew in all directions.
I giggled, but the sound died when he was standing before me. His blue eyes hypnotized me, ensnaring me into his seductive web, and I couldn’t look away.
He took the hand I had in between my legs and guided it to his dick. “Feel that. Years of waiting for you.” Then he placed my hand on his heart. “You asked me why you should believe that I won’t hurt you again. Feel this. My heart beats for you and only you. It will never beat or pine for another woman. I thought letting you go was protecting you. I was so fucking wrong. The only one who can protect you is me. So I’ll ask you again. Are you sure you want us, me?”
I tugged my hand from his wildly beating heart and tucked my fingers inside the waistband of his jeans. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” I swallowed as I traced my fingers up the dips and valleys of his six-pack. “I’m still in love with you. Never stopped. But…”
