Page 64 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

“Because for reasons unknown, the idea of you getting hurt sends a sharp pain through my chest,” he admits, drawing me closer. His breathing is rapid.

Our faces are mere inches apart, and I’m drawn in by his chiseled jaw and the way he looks at me as if I’m the only thing that matters. A shiver travels down my spine when he traces his finger along the curve of my chin, and I’m mesmerized as he gently grazes my mouth with the pad of his thumb.

Harrison shouldn’t have this profound effect on me, but the conflict warring within me since the day he came back into my life has only grown louder, refusing to be silenced.

“Mind explaining why you had a problem with me in Aleksandr’s jersey?” I ask softly.

“Because it was his.”

I lift a brow. “And that bothers you?”

“Yes.”

“But you had me wear your shirt instead. It might not have your name on it, but it’s still making a statement.”

Harrison nods. “Exactly. It’s not just anyone’s shirt. It’smine.”

His bold statement has our gazes colliding, holding each other in place.

“You’re staring,” I whisper.

“I can’t help it when you’re still wearing my shirt.”

My skin tingles when he leans in closer, running his hand along my cheek. My heart races as his usual cold expression hasbeen replaced with a tenderness that I’ve only seen a handful of times since our weekend together all those years ago.

“I really want to kiss you, trouble,” he admits softly. “Now is your chance to tell me no.”

Every cell in my body is screaming at me to speak out. This is a dangerous path to go down, and there’s no guarantee we’ll recover if we do. I’m supposed to despise this man, so why is the idea of his mouth on mine again so tantalizing.

One kiss can’t hurt, right?

I place my palm over his hand, keeping it pressed against my cheek.

“I don’t want to say no,” I murmur.

The words are barely out of my mouth before Harrison crushes his mouth to mine, claiming me with a searing kiss. He lets out a low groan as he weaves his fingers in my hair, drawing me in. I run my hands along his chest, curling my fingers into his shirt. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat is a silent reassurance, anchoring me in the moment.

He tilts my head, deepening the kiss. I nip his bottom lip in response, moaning as I delve my tongue inside his mouth. God, I forgot how intense kissing him was—a heady blend of longing and fire, leaving no space for restraint.

Harrison rocks his hips against me, his bulge rubbing against my stomach. I look at him and am met with his eyes, dark with desire, as though he’s ready to devour me whole. I’m not much better—my mouth still tingles from his scruff, my chest rising and falling like I’ve just sprinted a mile.

This feels too familiar.

A reminder of another time I was lost in his pleasure, only to be left with bitterness and regret.

I let out a stifled groan as I stretch out my arms and legs, my body deliciously sore.

We stayed up well into the night, having mind-blowing sex. He treated me like a queen, showering me with words of affection and praise, and I couldn’t get enough. Agreeing to go to dinner with him on Friday was one of the best decisions I’ve made.

Although now that the weekend is over, I’m not sure where that leaves us. I guess I’ll go back to my apartment, and he’ll fly back to Pennsylvania, where the Huskies are based. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready for this to end. Last night, Harrison alluded to the fact that he wanted to see me again, but it’s hard to tell if he meant it or if he was caught up in the moment. The only way I’ll know is if I ask him.

I reach over to the other side of the bed, confused when I find it empty and the mattress cold to the touch. Harrison must be in the bathroom or the living room having breakfast.

“Harrison,” I call out, hoping he can hear me, and can coax him back to bed for another round.

There’s no answer.

“Harrison,” I say a little louder, frowning when there’s still no response.

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