Page 64 of Dallas Rivals
And my heart breaks a little for him.
He decorated that room for a little girl who barely visits.
The thought of him waiting—wanting family time and never getting it—makes my chest ache.
When we finally reach the ranch, Oliver parks the SUV in front of the mansion.
We both get out without a word.
The kitchen lights are still on, even though no one’s there. He turns them off as he walks past and heads for the stairs.
Our bedrooms are both upstairs.
We climb the steps in silence, side by side.
When we reach my door, I stop in the doorway and smile.
“Thanks for the ride,” I whisper, finally giving in.
The short drive with him was more enjoyable than the entire dinner with Roger—and that’s something I probably need to think about.
He’s my boss.
I can’t forget that no matter how many butterflies I’ve got fluttering in my stomach.
Oliver nods once, swallowing hard.
Slowly, his hand moves toward mine until the tips of our fingers touch. Once he adjusts to the contact, his fingers close around mine, gentle, careful.
When he looks up, I can see the confusion in his eyes—mirroring my own—but there’s something else too.
Restraint.
Like a rope holding him back from doing what he wants to do.
Then my gaze drops to his lips and that’s all the permission he needs.
He steps forward and kisses me—softly, achingly tender—until my knees feel like they might give out.
His movements are slow but sure, deliberate and devastatingly sensual.
When his tongue brushes mine, I melt into him, my hand finding the back of his neck as his slides along my cheek.
The kiss deepens for what feels like forever, until finally, he pulls back.
“Goodnight, Miss Saint-Clair,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Goodnight, Mr. Walker.”
Iwent to bed thinking about her—and now, at five in the damn morning, I’m doing the exact same thing.
What the hell is wrong with me? What does Cala Saint-Clair have that’s got me like this?
The answer doesn’t come easy, but I’ve got a pretty good guess. Her hands. There’s something about her hands that makes me want to beg her to touch me, to run them over the places no one’s ever dared to go.
I’ve always dreamed of finding someone who could give me that. Someone who could quiet the demons from my past, the ones that built me into who I am, the ones that taught me how to keep my distance… and stay there.
Belonging.
