Chance: A Small Town, Enemies to Lovers, Protector Romance (Ghost Ops Book 2)

Chance: Chapter 40



It was rainingwhen the Dawg closed for the night. Rory was tired, but she miraculously found enough energy to throw herself at Chance as soon as they were inside the house. It was like lightning had been building beneath her skin all day and now she needed his touch to release it.

It stormed outside, but it was storming inside her body too. She needed to make the storm stop, and she only knew one way to do it.

“Baby,” he said, his voice hoarse as he ripped his shirt off while she shoved his jeans down his hips. “I missed you.”

She dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth, as deep as she could, her hands gripping his perfect ass as she started to suck. He tried to stop her when he got close, but she didn’t let him. When he groaned and shot semen into the back of her throat, she drank him down while he stiffened and groaned her name along with a few cuss words.

She let him go, licked his balls for good measure, and got to her feet feeling very self-congratulatory. She loved making Chance lose control. It was one of her favorite things to do.

The lightning inside her still sizzled, but it was more stable now.

“Come here,” he growled.

“Think I’m going to take a bath,” she said, turning away. Teasing him. He caught her around the waist and she squeaked as he lifted her and carried her over to the couch. He tossed her down on it, stripped her naked, and buried his face between her legs while she giggled.

Well, she giggled until his tongue was on her pussy and then she moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair and holding him there while she pressed her hips against him, riding his tongue like she rode his cock. The lightning whipped and cracked as her body climbed higher.

“Yes, like that. Oh God, Chance, you know how to eat pussy right.”

She knew he loved it when she talked dirty, but she loved it too. It was a release to say all the naughty things that crossed her mind. And there were plenty of them considering the books she read on the regular.

He teased her back entrance with a finger, then pressed the tip inside the way he knew she liked. He hadn’t done that during oral sex yet, but it was enough to make her detonate with a hoarse scream.

She was still shuddering when he turned her over, lifted her ass in the air, and drove his cock into her wet core. His finger moved in rhythm with his body, entering her again and again while he fucked her. When his other hand strummed her clit, she was done for, coming hard, her body clenching around his almost to the point of pain.

He came a moment later, filling her, until they collapsed on the couch together, breathing hard.

“Wow,” she said when she found the breath.

“Wow,” he echoed, his mouth on her shoulder, his tongue grazing lightly until it reached her ear and tickled the shell.

Rory shivered. His weight was heavy, but he wasn’t pressing her into the couch completely. As always, he was conscious of her medical devices.

“I missed you, too,” she admitted, her voice small. It was a lot for her to give him that, but her heart throbbed with feeling.

“Thank you. I know that wasn’t easy to say.”

And now there were tears pricking her eyes. Stupid hormones. Or maybe it was just him. Chance, being sensitive and beautiful.

“You’re welcome.”

He lifted himself and cool air wafted across her back. But then he gathered her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. When they were tucked beneath the sheets, the sound of raindrops hitting the roof, she threw a leg over him and pressed her ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Her throat ached with unspoken words, and her eyes stung as she blinked back a fresh wave of tears. What the heck was wrong with her? Why did everyone else fall in love and get on with living, but she got caught in the what-ifs and the fear she’d get her heart broken again?

Emma Grace had dated a serial killer, without knowing it, who’d abused and gaslighted her. Then he’d stalked her to Alabama and set up an elaborate game to get revenge on her for leaving him. Meanwhile, with all that shit in her recent past, she’d managed to let Blaze Connolly into her life.

The best thing she’d done, clearly. He was good for her. Good to her. Emma Grace had found the strength to fall in love, even after what she’d been through. That love had saved her.

Chance skimmed his fingers down her back, up again. “What are you thinking about?”

She pressed a kiss to one gorgeous pec. “Life.”

“Mm, pretty broad topic. Anything specific?”

“Not really. Just stuff.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. Then, “I need to tell you something.”

Fear rolled down her spine, froze the walls around her heart. Her breath stopped in her chest. This was it. The big reveal. The moment he told her something that he couldn’t take back. She wanted to tell him not to do it, not to break her heart by revealing he was already married or something equally awful, but she didn’t.

“Okay.”

“I told you that my mom shot my dad because she thought he was having an affair. What I didn’t tell you is that I was the one who confirmed it for her.”

She pushed away until she could meet his gaze in the dim light coming from the air purifier. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He sucked in a breath. “I told you my mom was depressed, probably schizophrenic. She didn’t seem like a real mom a lot of times and I got mad when she’d fail to do the things other moms did, like make lunches or pick me up from school. I wasn’t even allowed to have sleepovers because she couldn’t deal with it. Anyway, my dad was a lawyer. He saw a lot of clients for lunches and dinners, things like that. One day, when I was at the country club pool with friends, he went into the restaurant with a client. A beautiful woman I’d never seen before. A few days later, my mom asked me if I’d seen the woman. She had a photo. I said yes. I didn’t even ask why. I just wanted to go to the pool with my friends.”

She knew what’d happened next because he’d told her before, though without the picture of the woman. “Chance, it’s not your fault.”

“I know. Mostly. I struggled with it as a kid, had counseling. It’s why I acted out, I think. I felt guilty. For so fucking long, I felt guilty.”

His voice was tight. He was still struggling. Rory skimmed her palm up his arm, over his cheek, into his hair. Just touching, soothing. “What did the counselors say?”

“That it wasn’t my fault. That I was a kid. That nothing I said made her do what she did. I didn’t make my mom kill my dad. I didn’t light the match. She was the one who was broken, not me. The bitch of it is, it wasn’t an affair. The woman was seeking a divorce and didn’t want to talk to anyone in her town because she didn’t want her husband to find out before he was served.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. She ached for the child he’d been. Thinking he’d caused the incident that took his parents away from him. Being shuffled through the system, acting out, nobody loving him like he deserved.

“Do you hear me, Rory? Really hear me?” he asked, his voice gentler than before.

She sniffled and raised her gaze to his again. “Yes, Chance, I hear you. You know the counselors were right, don’t you? That it wasn’t your fault?”

“Yes. Even if I still struggle sometimes, I know they were right. She was the one who was broken. She made the choice. And baby, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. The fact your asshat of a fiancé chose to screw your bridesmaid and run off has always been on him. It’s nothing you did, or could do. He’s the broken one. And at some point, you have to realize that never trusting anyone again, never being willing to risk your heart, is the same thing as me thinking I caused my mom to murder my dad and change my life forever. It’s not you. It’s not me. It’s them. The broken ones.”

She couldn’t stop the tears that spilled over this time. “But what if I’m broken too? Have you thought of that? Because I am, Chance. I feel things deep inside and I do my best to squash them. I build walls. I’m too afraid of breaking any further that I have to protect what’s left of me. Don’t you get that?”

He gathered her to him again. She could feel his heart tapping a hard rhythm. She almost pushed him away, but she couldn’t do it. Instead, she melted in his arms because it was where she felt safest.

“Rory, baby. I love you,” he whispered in the darkness. “You aren’t broken. You’re scared. There’s a difference. Feeling things is good. Building walls is normal. All I’m telling you is, once you realize you didn’t cause Mark’s betrayal, that it wasn’t anything wrong with you, then maybe you’ll realize you can let yourself love me without fear. Because the only thing taking me away from you is prison or death, you hear me?”

A chill shuddered over her. “What kind of talk is that? Prison or death?”

“It’s just talk, kitten. Those are the two things that I can’t fight when it comes down to it.”

“Don’t kill Jimmy, or either of those Davis assholes, and there’ll be no prison. Right?”

He gave her a squeeze. “Right.”

“You wouldn’t, would you?”

He tipped her chin back to look into her eyes. “I would, but only if they hurt you. Then I don’t care what happens to me.”

The fierceness in his voice stunned her. “I care, Chance. A lot.”

His teeth flashed in the darkness, cutting through the seriousness of the moment. “Think you just admitted a little something, honey.”

She couldn’t help but grin back, though she was still scared too. “Maybe I did. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“I won’t.”

She fell asleep in his arms, the rain slapping the roof harder now that the storm had picked up, the wind blowing through the trees outside. Her body was content, but her dreams were troubled.


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