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“If anyone can destroy anyone, it’s you. You could, if I gave you the opportunity, if I trusted you enough, you could destroy me like no one else ever dreamt of destroying me.”
“Ifyou trust me? Because you don’t?”
“Why should I give you that power?Why,Harper?”
“You shouldn’t,” she whispers, her voice a rasp of emotion. “It’s too much. Just like I shouldn’t with you. I can’t do this.”
She means it. She’s done, and the very idea shreds me. Her words radiate through me and shift something inside me. I need this woman and damn it, I’m about to lose her. I know she could destroy me, but the bottom line is I don’t fucking care. I cup her face, and tilt her gaze to mine. “It’s not much with you, Harper. It’s never enough. And I’m not used to feeling like this. I don’t know if I’m coming or going. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Her fingers curl on my chest, and she whispers, “Try not pushing me away.”
“Does this feel like I’m pushing you away?” I cover her mouth with mine, and I don’t just kiss her. I devour her, and I demand more than ever before, because I finally understand the way Grayson craves his woman, the way he will do anything for her, risk anything for her. There is no such thing as too much with this woman; even if she becomes the end of me.
Chapter thirty-seven
Harper
With the banister at my back and Eric in front of me, kissing me, his hands all over my body, it’s like something has snapped between us. It’s a matter of seconds, it seems, before my pants are off and his are open, a condom in his hand. It’s the condom that gets to me again, driving home how much I need to talk to him about certain things I haven’t yet, but now doesn’t feel like the time. Nowreallyisn’t the time because he’s already kissing me again, lifting my knee to his hip and pressing inside me.
Another few seconds and my legs are wrapped around his waist, and our version of makeup sex is wild, fast, and hard. We’re both shuddering to release far too quickly, and yet it’s somehow perfect. I come back to reality with my face in his neck and him carrying me to the bathroom. He sits me on the sink, pulls out of me, and presses his hands on either side of me, anger burning in his eyes that sex clearly did nothing to tame. In fact, if anything, the opposite. He’s angrier now, like he’s pissed that he couldn’t help but fuck me. “What is happening right now?”
“Me or Gigi,” he says roughly, his face all hard lines and shadows.
“How are we having the same conversationagain? I answered this in the hallway. You.You, Eric. You can read the messages. All of them.”
“I will. Don’t tell her anything without talking to me first.”
“I already told you what happened and that it won’t happen again.”
He tosses the condom in a trashcan, zips his pants up, and then settles his hands on his hips. “You do know she could be setting you up, right?”
“I know what she’s capable of,” I say. “I was going to tell you what she said." I’d scoot off the counter, but I’m half naked and he’s now fully dressed. It just feels weird. I grab a towel and pull itover me before I jump down. “Can you hand me my robe behind the door?”
He stares at me a moment but does what I ask. Once it’s in hand and then on my body I push to my feet and face him. “This is not right what you’re doing right now. You need to read the messages.” I start walking and he shackles my wrist and pulls me back to him.
“I need to be able to trust you, Harper. There is no in between for us.”
There are so many ways I could come back at him for that statement, that’s getting really old. We’re on repeat but I force myself to breathe and remember it’s obviously for a reason. He needs to hear my answers again, and I get it. He’s wildly successful, incredibly intelligent, and some might say irreparably broken. I’m not one of those people but he has plenty of reasons to be guarded. “You can trust me,” I say, my tone no longer combative. “I swear to you, Eric, on my father’s life, on all that I am, that you can trust me. I’m sorry. You went downstairs and she texted me to see if we had any news and I just—I asked her about the number.”
“How long have you known about the wire transfers?”
“Just read the messages, Eric. I’ll get my phone for you.”
He reaches into his pocket and produces my phone. “I have it, remember?”
“Right. Good. Read the messages. Readanyof my messages.”
He stares at me, ignoring the messages, searching my face, and I don’t look away. I want him to see the truth in my eyes. I’m with him, all in, and loyal but time ticks and we’re still standing there and it feels like he’s waiting on me to say or do something. “Iwill not evergo to Gigi or anyone without talking to you first. I know what she did to you and your mom. I should have thought—”
“Yes. You should have.” He steps around me and walks into the bedroom. I quickly follow entering the bedroom as he sits on one of the chairs and starts reading through my messages.
I cross to sit in the chair angled his direction, right next to him, holding my breath as seconds tick by. Abruptly he angles my direction and hands me my phone before he reaches for his own. Without a word, he punches an auto-dial number, and it takes only a moment for me to realize we’re on speakerphone.
“Morning, sunshine,” a man answers.
“Blake,” Eric greets. “You’re on speaker. Meet Harper.”
“How the fuck areyou, Harper?”
