Page 99 of The Heartbreaker

TWENTY-FOUR

Addison

Ridge wasn’t like the men from my past—the boys who only thought of themselves in every scenario and constantly put me last, who were more bad than good. Ridge was a dream. A man who had proven he’d do anything for me, who would protect me, who would punch an asshole and break his nose for my honor.

And even though I was squeezing him within my wet, naked arms while the rest of my body was still in his big, beautiful tub, I had a hard time believing that he was real.

That someone like him truly existed.

That he’d carried me out of the club and to his car and brought me to his house.

That tonight had even happened.

That he’d made sure this was the last time I would ever step foot in the club because he didn’t even want the customers’ eyes on me.

Because I was his.

And I wanted to be his.

“If you’re not going to join me,” I said into the side of his neck, “I think it’s time for me to get out.”

His arms loosened from around me, and he went to the other side of the bathroom to grab a towel, which he unfolded and held open for me to step into. Once I climbed out of the tub, he wrapped it around me, clasping it in the back.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

His shirt was soaked from our hug. The water from the bath was dripping off me, along with the bubbles, hitting spots on the floor that were well past the rug I was standing on.

But Ridge didn’t even attempt to dry himself off or remove his shirt or wipe up the floor.

All that mattered in this moment was me.

Since he was still holding the towel behind my back, I assumed he was waiting for me to walk into the bedroom.

But I didn’t move.

I undid the top three buttons of his shirt, and pulling from the bottom, I lifted it over his head. “You have too many clothes on to go to bed.” I took in his gorgeous smile as I unhooked his belt and the button and zipper of his jeans and let them fall, along with his boxer briefs, to the wet floor.

He slid out of his shoes and his clothes.

And even though his hand hadn’t left the towel, I pulled it off my chest and encouraged him to let it drop, the two of us now standing naked.

Ridge had every opportunity to let his stare fall down my body, and he didn’t.

His eyes stayed on mine.

And while they did, he gazed at me like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—something he’d done since the first time we’d met. But what was also in that riveting stare was a feeling that went beyond my appearance and what he thought of it.

Ridge looked at me with love.

An emotion that didn’t just hit, but it penetrated my soul.

“Mine.”

As that one word resonated, my eyes fluttered closed, and I filled my lungs by taking the longest, deepest breath.

Mine.

Something I wanted, but didn’t feel right about having.