Page 101 of Guarding Grace

His eyes held mine for longer than it took to hand me the shirt.

I grabbed the doorjamb to steady myself. “Can you help me put it on?” I tried for seductive.

His lip twitched.

Come on, big guy, give in for once and let me win. I so wanted to cuddle after the day I’d had. The wine had helped, but what I really needed was to be in his strong arms, shielded from the shitstorm around me.

“No. You’re drunk, and I have work to do. Sleep well, Kitten,” he said before walking away.

“I will,” I snapped. Slamming the door didn’t make me feel any better. It struck me that I’d gone into the guest bedroom because that’s where Constance had helped me hang up all my things.

Terry hadn’t said he’d join me. And he hadn’t told me to sleep in his bed, asked me, or whatever. Did that mean he didn’t want me to? Didn’t want me? I sniffled, hoping that wasn’t it.

I’d never figure him out.Screw it.As much as I wanted him here, I wasn’t the begging kind.

When the room swam, I decided he was right about one thing—I needed to get in bed while I could still walk.

After brushing my teeth, I tried on the T-shirt. It swamped me, but loose was better than too tight. Clicking off the light, I found the bed in the darkness.

The flashbacks started almost immediately—the two guys slamming me against the car about to abduct me after the party, the Taser and the guy dragging me to the SUV when I met Elliot, the bitch Maria threatening to kill one of my people, the assholes shooting at us, and the message tonight threatening to hurt Millie.

Why had Elliot made my life such a shitshow? I couldn’t take it and stumbled to the light switch. It blinded me at first, but blinking, I focused on the door handle.

I’d felt safe in his arms earlier, and for a second, I considered finding Terry. But I wasn’t drunk enough to ignore reality—it would make me feel ten times worse to be rejected again. I could hear him in my head, “Don’t get hysterical, Grace. Go to bed. You’re drunk, and I have work to do.” That would sting.

So screw the hangover, I picked up the wine bottle again. I needed more, a lot more, to get some shut-eye tonight.

Terry

At one in the morning,I finally felt I’d gotten everything out of the files that I could, so I turned off the living room lights.

Grace had hit the sack long ago. Was I pervert enough to stop outside the guest room and listen? You bet. But I wasn’t perverted enough to open the door and join her when she was, as Lucas had put it, vulnerable. She needed her sleep. Knowing she was safe would have to be enough for me.

I will be strong and leave her alone.I repeated the words in my head several times.

Unfortunately, the devil in me thought of her behind that door in just my T-shirt. That image made me go hard. When I touched my lips, I could feel her and taste her again. Just thinking of her had my brain misfiring.

I am totally fucked.I could tell I was going to have to jerk off if I wanted to get to sleep.Giving in isn’t being weak, I told myself.No, it’s being expedient. I needed sleep to face Tony Russo tomorrow and to protect her. It was going to be impossible with my mind constantly picturing our time together earlier.

I found a washcloth before getting into bed, then grabbed my cock and started stroking. I pictured her pussy and stroked harder. Memories of the sounds she made filled my ears. The taste of her felt real. The feel of her soft tits in my hands came back to me.

I increased the pace. My balls pulled up. I tensed at the surprising ache at the base of my spine. Holy, holy, holy shit. With one more rough pull, I blew in record time, almost hitting my chin.

Panting rapidly, I wiped up. My God, I hadn’t come that hard in a long, long time, and never that quickly. Memories of Grace packed one hell of a punch. Score one for expediency.

I dropped the washcloth on the floor, too spent to walk it to the hamper, and waited for sleep to come as my breathing slowed.

It didn’t come quickly.

The scream jolted me awake.

Grace is in danger.

My training kicked in, and with a finger to the biometric scanner, my gun safe unlocked. In the dark I grabbed my SIG, racked one into the chamber, and moved stealthily to the door.

Another scream followed.

Pulling my night-vision goggles off their hook, I slowly opened the door, ducking low in case they were in the hallway. It was clear.