There is something happening inside my chest. It's a thawing sensation. The cold is melting away—and it happens a little more every time I look at Grace.
I guide her up the steps into my jet, glaring at the man fueling the plane for staring at her legs a second too long. Possessiveness sinks into me like f*****g claws and I almost second-guess my decision to take her outside of my home. Maybe I should confine her to my bedroom for at least a month until she's used to being mine and mine alone. Until she is so addicted to my c**k that she gets wet every time she hears my footsteps approaching.
Those would be the actions of a bad man, though.
I am a bad man. But somewhere in the middle of the night, while watching her sleep so peacefully, I didn't want to be one anymore.
At least, not to
