Fearless For Love (Lovelly #3) (25 page)

AFTER DINNER, SHE suggests we go back to my place. So we do, and I try not to think of all the potential the night could bring. As I pull into my parking garage, I realize how presumptuous my thoughts are and try hard not to grin as I open the car door for her and lead her upstairs. Once inside, she stands there, studying my place like she’s never been here before. I can tell she’s nervous from the rigid way she’s standing and the way she drums her fingers against her thigh.

I approach her and place my hand over the curve of her shoulder. Her body jerks. She turns around and looks up at me with wide, beautiful green eyes. Her mouth trembles, and I lean forward to brush mine against hers. “Don’t be nervous,” I whisper against her mouth.

“I’m not,” she lies. The quiver in her lips and tiny looks she keeps stealing toward my bedroom says it all. My pulse kicks up a notch and tight coils form in the pit of my stomach. My hand shakes when I reach for her cheek. “God, you’re beautiful.”

And it’s true. I’ve never felt like this with anyone. If I’m not careful, she could very well be the girl who activates the Lovelly curse, the one that turns all the Lovelly men into puppets.

It happened to Dad, Hudson, and Heath.

And I know I’m not that far behind them. But I also know the consequences of letting someone into my life right now too. The danger I’ll be putting her in.

That thought sends an icy lance through my core and it takes everything in me to pull back, stepping away from her. She’s in danger with me. That fact alone would’ve made me run away before, but now . . . when I look at Jess and see her looking back at me with . . . with so much emotion . . .

I turn away from her and place a hand over my heart. Maybe I’m too late. Maybe the Lovelly gene’s already been activated. Because I can’t run. Even if that’s what would be best, I can’t let her go.

“Harry.”

I blink and turn back to face her. She’s looking at me with her head cocked slightly to the side, one eyebrow raised in question. I give myself a mental shake and smile. Time to get back to the original plan. I might have placed a big red target on her forehead as far as Stamos is concerned, but I sure as hell am not going to let her be defenseless.

The furniture resists and groans as I move it off to the side, trying to make space in the middle of the living room.

“What are you doing?” Her voice is amused.

I grunt as I move the last of the furniture out of the way. “I want to show you something. Get you to relax.”

She grins wide at this and asks, saucily, “You needed to move the furniture for
that
?”

“Yup,” I respond.

She crosses her arms, but there’s something teasing in the way her hip juts out slightly. “Care to elaborate?”

Instead of responding, I take off my shoes, making sure to keep our gazes locked. I know she won’t like what I’m about to suggest to her, given her past, but I still want to try. Maybe if I try a different tactic . . .

“You’re staring,” she points out.

“I know.” I smirk.

“Well, stop.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s creepy.”

I chuckle and step to the right. I reach forward and pull at her hand, tugging her into the newly opened floorspace and into my embrace. “Wherever else would I
want
to look, when you’re here, looking so fucking beautiful?” Then, without warning, I tickle her.

“Harry.” She giggles, trying to pull her elbows down, but I keep my hold on her unyielding. “Stop. Please . . . ?” She throws her head back as she laughs even louder, presenting the column of her throat to me, tempting me.

I take the bait, leaning forward to press my mouth softly against her skin. “Make me.” I pull her back to a standing position. Her eyes are still smiling.

“What?” she asks.

“Stop me from tickling you.”

A sort of excitement flares in her eyes at this challenge. “You’re crazy.” She squeals again when I resume my assault. “Just, s-stop. Please.”

“There’s a pot of gold at the end of this rainbow, sweetheart.” I let her go and take a step back.

She scoffs, resting a hand on her hip. “You can’t be serious.” She looks at me, incredulous. “You do realize you’re like a thousand pounds heavier than me, and just a smidge taller, right? There’s no way I can take you down.”

Although her words are nothing but excuses, she’s looking at me, calculating, trying to figure out where to strike. Good. She’s rising to the occasion, just as I’d hoped.

“Excuses. Excuses,” I say, goading her into action.

“Facts.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter how big someone is, or if they’re an experienced fighter.”

“You’re not making a compelling case here.”

I laugh. “Fine. Okay, then how about this? You see a eight-year-old child and a teenager walking down the street—who do you think would be more dangerous?”

“The teenager. They’re bigger. Stronger.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyebrows raise high and her expression screams skepticism. “I’m serious. It’s one of the first lessons I learned at the FBI. Never ever underestimate anyone. It doesn’t matter if it’s a kid or a ninety-year-old woman. Everyone can be dangerous. It’s just that we’ve all been programmed to perceive size as weakness, and that’s our downfall. We don’t expect that someone smaller will be capable of taking us down.”

“So what you’re saying is that because I’m a woman and look like a kid, no one will take me seriously.” Her face twists with disapproval.

I put a finger up to stop her so I can explain better. “Sweetheart, you’re nothing if not a woman. But what I was trying to say is that you can use that ignorance to your advantage. I bet you have a killer punch.”

She looks at her hand, turning it into a fist. “I doubt it. Trust me, Vincent tried to teach me a few times and I was pretty useless.”

“Well then, there’s your problem.”

She raises her eyebrow.

“I’m not Vincent.”

She scoffs. “Clearly.”

“Trust me, sweetheart. I’m Harrington goddamn Lovelly, and there’s no better teacher out there than me.” I wink.

She’s shaking her head in disbelief. “I swear, your ego has no bounds.”

I gesture for her to come closer and she does. “How about we try something? Make a fist again.”

She does. I check it, running my hand over it, and realize that if she were ever to throw a punch like this, she’d be in a cast for a long time.

I squeeze her hand. “You need to bring your thumb over here.” I adjust her fingers. “Now, squeeze those fingers as tightly as you can. And you should always keep this firm.” I run my hand over her delicate wrist, straightening it into the proper position. “The most important thing is to keep everything from your forearm all the way to the tips of your fingers as tight as possible. If you do, and you strike at the right target, you have a high chance of breaking bones.”

I let go and watch as she tests my instructions, flexing her wrist from loose to tight, forming and reforming her fist.

“Good. Okay, so when you’re throwing a punch, remember to only use two knuckles. Your index and the middle. Unlike what most people believe, all you really need are these two; that’s where all the power comes from.”

“Like this?” she asks, her full attention on what I’m teaching her.

I smile. “Yup. Just like that. Ready for the next step?”

She nods, eager.

“All right, where to punch.” I give her a quick, slow demonstration. “Your strongest punch actually doesn’t come from your arm, as most people believe, it comes from your hips. And your target should always fall along your center line, like so.” I repeat the demonstration, highlighting the way I turn my hips into the motion of the punch and how my fist lines up with the center of my body. “So if you want to take out someone like Tony . . . you get him here or here.” I indicate my own solar plexus and the hollow at the base of my throat. “Let’s try the motion.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Her eyes are wide, and I can tell she’s nervous again, but this is important. She needs to at least learn this much.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You won’t hurt me. Not unless I want you to hurt me.” I smile reassuringly.

“Ha. You keep smiling like that, pretty boy, and one of these days, I’ll show you.”

“Feel free to take me down a notch.” I wink.

For the next hour, we go through the basics of self defense, moving from one type of punch to another. She takes her heels off and dives in with more enthusiasm than I would have expected, until finally she flops onto the couch, breathing hard and clearly tired.

“So, this is your idea of a date?” she asks, gulping down water.

It isn’t. My usual date includes flowers, dinner, and a movie, ending with an evening under the covers. But this time, I wanted something different. None the less, I decide to play it off like nothing’s different, settling on the couch next to her. “Well, your tummy is happy, your heart’s beating faster and . . . hell, you’re all flushed and sweaty. So, yeah, it’s just like any other date.”

She places the glass on the table next to the couch and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. But she misses a spot.

I lean forward and run my thumb over her bottom lip. “Tell me you aren’t having fun.”

Her eyes flutter. “It’s been a night I’ll never forget.”

“Then mission accomplished,” I respond, leaning in for the kiss. I hover over her until she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down toward her.

She meets me halfway and our lips connect, slowly, tenderly. My body comes alive and blood rushes down south. I should stop what I’m doing, take things slow and easy with her, but I can’t. Because I’m a selfish bastard, and I want her too fucking much.

She wraps her legs around my hips and digs her heels into me, adding fuel to the fire. I groan. Before I know it, I’m kissing her harder, hungry, my hands disappearing into her hair as she pulls at mine.

She moans into the kiss. I leave her mouth and make my way toward her neck. Her hands claw at my shirt.

“Off,” she commands.

I oblige without hesitation, letting her pull it over my head and chuck it to the side. My hands dig into her hips as I kiss her jaw and neck, going lower. “I really like this dress, Jess, but I’ll like it far more when it’s laying on the floor.”

I slip the spaghetti strap off her shoulder and kiss her there, following the strap all the way down to her elbow and then continuing down to her fingers before I do the same on the other side.

“Harry—”

The way she draws out my name, half moan, half plea, it does things to me. Things that make me feel this is right. Being with Jess feels so,
so
right. So right that I know I can’t lie to myself any longer.

Harrington fucking Lovelly is falling in love.

LOVE.

I’ve despised that word for the longest time, but now, it brings a new sort of sensation welling up deep inside me. I look into her eyes, and I see it glowing in their brilliant green depths. Or maybe it’s my own feelings I see reflecting back. I can’t tell.

After all, they do say love is for fools. And hell if I’m not a happy fool right now. I’d do just about anything to continue feeling like this.

“Harry—” Her voice is breathy, dream-like, and I can’t help but touch her.

“Yes,” I breathe. My hand moves like it has a mind of its own, inching higher and higher up her smooth legs until it reaches between them. I lean forward, and I can taste her smell on the tip of my tongue; it practically makes me salivate with the desire to kiss her again.

“I want—” She pauses, fluttering her eyes.

I move on top of her, feeling her body stretched out beneath me. I never realized just how small and delicate she is compared to me. My hands itch to grasp and squeeze and touch every inch of her. I feel what little control I still have over my mind and body start to slip, the heat of desire replacing everything. She runs a single finger from my chest to my collarbone. When it reaches my chin, she finally meets my gaze head on.

My heart pounds as I watch her watch me.

“Will you . . . ” Her eyes dart to my mouth as she licks her lips. “Will you make love to me?”

With that request, my reservations vanish. I kiss her, hard, unleashing every ounce of desire that’s been building inside me. Her hands run down the length of my body as she drags her nails down my back. I groan into her mouth in approval.

When her fingers stop at the hem of my boxers, testing the fabric teasingly, I push against her, urging her to keep going.

Her mouth is impatient, her body eager for more, and I tighten my grip on her delicate hips.

“Jess,” I say, sitting back and pulling her up with me. “Let me . . .” I reach behind her and expertly undo the bow and zipper holding the dress in place, peppering kisses along her shoulders and neck as I do. In a single smooth motion, I lift it up and over her head, her bra following with a quick snap and slide. She lays back against the couch cushions, completely bare to me. Her hand twitches like she wants to cover herself and I know she feels a little self-conscious about her body, but I’m happy as hell that she doesn’t. That she wants me to see her beauty. And good God, is she beautiful. I lean down and kiss her chest, just above where her heart is, and then make my way up toward her collarbone, the curve of her neck, and finally, her earlobe. She shivers, and a soft sound escapes her lips.

“There may have been many women in my life, Jess,” I say, pulling back so I can see her face when I admit this. Her eyes are closed and a small smile plays over those plump red lips. I push a strand of hair out of her face and cup her cheek. She opens her eyes and turns her head to the side, kissing my palm. “But you’re the first woman I’m going to make love to. And if it’s possible for me to
love
anyone, it’s you.”

Her eyes brim with tears as she stares up at me for a moment. Then she lifts her head and kisses me, deeply, hungrily. An animalistic rumble rips from deep inside me as she slides her hand inside my boxers.  

“Fuck, Jess.” I find it hard to control my own hands as they travel impatiently up and down the length of her side. I need her naked, completely and right now. I slip my fingers under the elastic of the last piece of clothing covering her beautiful body and slide it down her legs, following it with my mouth, laying soft kisses all the way to her toes.

I take my time as I find my way back up to her core, slowly memorizing every freckle on her body. My hands run up and inside her thighs until my fingers graze her sweet spot. I inhale, smelling her arousal, feeling her quiver under my touch. She lets out a long, pleasurable breath when I slip my finger inside her.

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Her knees arch up with each movement of my fingers.

She groans and writhes, her legs tightening around my shoulders, her nails digging into my neck. I flinch at the slight pain, but I don’t stop.

“Harry,” she whispers, squeezing her legs as if trying to pull me up to her.

Taking the cue, I withdraw my fingers and position myself over her. “You sure about this, Jess?” My pulse throbs inside me like a galloping horse. I want her so fucking bad that every muscle inside me aches. But I’m not going to let my downward flowing blood overrule my judgment. “I’ll wait for as long as you need.”

She only pauses for a second before her mouth collides with mine, kissing me passionately. Everything in me screams to stop thinking, to just go forward. To not wait any longer. This is what I want. This is what I need. Her. Making love to her.

“Please, Harry.”

That is what does me in. All thought evaporates. I reach for my discarded pants and pull a foil packet from my wallet. I tear it open with my teeth, all while keeping my eyes on her. She watches me, her pupils dilated with arousal, or maybe love.

When I’m done, I tilt forward to kiss her, my hardness against her soft flesh. I give her one last chance to change her mind, but at her small nod, I push myself inside her with a small, slow movement. As our bodies join for the first time, I groan with bliss. Her eyes squeeze shut, and her mouth opens slightly.

“Jess.” My voice cracks. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

And she does. Her eyes are sultry and intense and passionate all at the same time.

I pull back out and then rock forward into her again, and she squeezes her eyes shut. A small, involuntary groan escapes her.

“Open your eyes, Jess,” I command, again.

And she does. She watches me watch her as I once again press inside her. Her head sinks back into the cushions as she lets out a small cry. Her thighs tighten around me and a small bit of concern makes it’s way through my clouded thoughts. I wait until she relaxes to repeat the smooth, rhythmic motion of my body against hers.

She curls her legs around my waist and I just about lose my control, needing the impending release I’m seeking. I grab her under her knees and pull her up closer, needing just a little more of her. She digs her heels into my ass and I moan.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Jess. You’re everything I
need
,” I breathe with each push.

Sweat beads over our skin and she arches her back, her body building toward its own release. A long moan draws from her lips as I trace the skin of her neck with my mouth and tongue.

“Harry,” she sighs, dragging her nails down my sweat-slick back.

It becomes too much. I’m dangerously close to letting go. “I can’t—” I grab both of her hands and pull them above her head as I continue pump into her with more need. Our noises grow louder, echoing the air around us.

“I love you,” she whispers. “I’m yours, Harry.”

My head swims at her confession and I lose it. There’s no more control. I give myself to her. To showing her just how much she owns me. How much
I
love her. I groan as my body presses inside her one last time and then I collapse, my face buried into her neck. I keep most of my weight on my arms as I press soft, tender kisses to the supple skin under my lips.

Never in a million years have I felt the kind of emotions surging through me. I fucking love this woman. “You’ve ruined me, Jess.” I plants more kisses along her shoulder, her collarbone. “I’m
never
letting you go. I can’t.”

Nothing will ever be the same, I realize. Not after this.

I push myself off the couch and head into the bathroom to clean myself up. When I come back, Jess is lying on her side, a plush throw thrown over her naked body, looking like a satisfied cat. She glances up at me and a small smile appears on her face as she takes me in, standing before her completely bare, and fully ready for round two.

“Already?” She raises her hand.

Instead of answering her, I slide my hands under her naked body and pull her into my arms, letting the throw blanket slide to the floor. I press my mouth to hers in a soft, succulent kiss. “I was a little too eager the first time, but no more excuses. Ready to experience the ride of your life?”

She giggles and kisses me as I walk us back to my bedroom, where I make love to her again. And once more after that.