Desperate Chances Page 78


I hated to think of him like that. It hurt. A lot.

“When I was with Sophie, it dulled the pain a little. For a while anyway. That’s not to say that I didn’t really care about her, because I did. Sophie is a nice girl. She’s just not the girl I wanted. So I let myself continue in a relationship that I didn’t feel because I was bitter and angry and resentful. Because I was so pissed and hurt over you rejecting me that anything was better than being alone and wanting you.”

Mitch’s mouth twisted and his fingers dug into my skin. “I hurt a perfectly sweet woman because I’m an idiot who tried to lie to his own heart. I should never have been with her. I shouldn’t have done that to her. Or me. Or you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. I should have been here, at your door, begging you to be with me.”

My heart thumped wildly as his words hit me.

“I should have waited until you were ready. I shouldn’t have let my pride and ego dictate my decisions. Because, Gracie,” he paused, looked into my eyes. “Every single minute of every single day that I wasn’t with you was wasted time.”

I felt the tears before I realized I was crying. They trailed down my cheeks and he kissed the salty wetness away. “You are my beginning.” Kiss. “You are my middle.” Kiss. Kiss. “You are my ever after.”

“So I’m sorry about Sophie. I’m sorry that she got caught up in my bullshit need to erase you. But I’m not sorry about how I feel about you. I’m not sorry for standing here at one in the goddamn morning and hoping that you’ll let me in. I can’t ever regret doing what needed to be done so that I ended up here.”

Well, damn.

“But I’m not leaving, Gracie. Never again,” he swore, then his mouth captured mine and all doubts were gone.

The force of the kiss took us both by surprise. Mitch pulled away, panting. “I’m not going to be gentle,” he warned.

“Okay,” I gasped.

And he was kissing me again, his tongue plunged inside. Taking. Owning. He had me completely.

He pushed me up against the wall, his hands holding me still as he kissed me punishingly. He bit down on my bottom lip, drawing blood, and I moaned so loudly that I was pretty sure my neighbors would hear. We were still out in the freezing cold hallway and we were giving zero fucks about that.

He cupped my ass and pulled me up against him. I felt his erection straining behind his zipper. He was touching me everywhere. Pressing. Rubbing. Sliding. Fingers on flesh. Pulling. Grasping. Never, ever enough.

His hands became tangled in my hair and I found myself rubbing myself against him frantically. I would have crawled up inside of him if I could. I wanted to be closer. As close as I could get while still being two separate people.

“I’m desperate for you, Gracie. I always have been,” he said against my mouth. “Let me in. Let me love you.”

I felt the doubts stirring below the surface. They wanted me to acknowledge them. There were still so many variables to consider. My issues. Our damaged past. How we had hurt each other. Whether we could trust one another.

But right then, none of it mattered.

Because Mitch needed me.

As much as I needed him.

I reached behind me and pushed the door open wider. Still kissing, we stumbled into my apartment and Mitch slammed the door shut with his foot. We broke apart, our lips puffy and swollen.

“Should we go to the bed—?”

Mitch started kissing me again and I stopped trying to speak. We sank down onto the couch as we devoured each other. We kissed like we never wanted to stop.

Mitch unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off my shoulders. There was nothing delicate in his actions. He wasn’t tender. This was a man who was going to get what he wanted.

He pushed me back onto the sofa and leaned over me. I stared up into his beloved face and I wanted to tell him that I loved him.

I wanted to kiss his lips and give him everything that I had. But there was something wild in his eyes. Something out of control and a little scary. I was so turned on that I couldn’t help but writhe beneath him. I wanted his touch so badly that I thought I’d lose my mind.

“What do you want me to do?” he growled, tracing a line from my collarbone down between my breasts, stopping just below my navel. He toyed with the button of my jeans, slipping his finger below the material.

I tried to rub myself against his thigh, needing the friction. I was throbbing. I was so excited it had become a physical pain.

His finger rubbed back and forth along the tender skin just below the waistline of my pants. He stared down at me, licking his lips.

“Gracie, what do you want me to do?” he repeated, smirking at me with a smile that was downright devious.

“I want you to touch me,” I huffed. Wasn’t that freaking obvious?

Mitch dipped his head and lightly ran his lips along the curve of my belly. Not kissing. Not licking. Just a teasing, tantalizing touch.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” he whispered against my skin.

Fucking hell!

I didn’t answer right away, too caught up in the sensations wracking my body.

He nipped at the skin above my hip and I yelped in surprise. “Where do you want me to touch you, Gracie?” he demanded, harsher this time.

“Everywhere, Mitch! Everywhere!” I moaned.

“Here?” he breathed, kissing my belly button, his tongue dipping inside.

“Oh,” I groaned.

“Or should I touch you here?” he asked, slowly unbuttoning my jeans and pulling down the zipper. He peeled them back and kissed my mound through the fabric of my underwear.

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