Page 20 of Save Me the Trouble
“I am being serious, Grace,” he growled low. “I’m always serious when it comes to pleasure.”
My mouth went dry, and his face started to swim in front of me. My heart was beating so hard I was sure I’d look down and there would be a hole in the front of my chest.
“You want to know my preference?” He lowered his face as he said it, his lips grazing my cheek on their path to my ear. “My preference is to give pleasure. Lots of it. I believe the term you’ll want to include is a pleasure dom.”
Killian Crown was a pleasure dom.
My chest moved unevenly, and the ground beneath me started to shift. To spin.
“Grace?” His tone was harder—sharper now. “Grace.”
Why was he holding my arm?
“I’m fine,” I tried to say, but the words didn’t completely make it through my lips before everything started to go dark, and the world started to fall.Or maybe it was just me.
“Shit.”
I heard Killian’s curse, and then I felt like I was floating. Like the clouds from earlier had wrapped me in their soft embrace, rocking me as the rain cooled my skin.
“Everyone out,”Killian’s voice boomed through the fog.
“Excuse me, sir, you can’t?—”
“I’m on the board of directors for Starbucks, so unless you want this store to be the topic of discussion at our next meeting for refusing to assist in a medical emergency, I suggest you clear everyone out.”
Chapter Five
Killian
My heart pounded against my chest as people scrambled to clear out the store. The way the tourists lingered and tried to gawk at the unconscious woman in my arms was infuriating; I would’ve punched someone if my arms hadn’t been otherwise occupied.
Grace made a soft sound, her soft body cradled protectively to my chest.
“I’ve got you, Grace. You’re going to be okay,” I murmured, my jaw wrenching tighter as they cleared off the counter.Not fast enough.
I never lost my cool. Never…threatened. But seeing how all the color drained right out of her before she went down…my stomach had plummeted right along with her.
“Here you go, sir.” The barista wiped the last corner of the counter, and I gently laid Grace on it, keeping her head slightly elevated on my arm.
“I need a wet cloth and a cup of water,” I demanded, my voice still sharp. One of the employees rushed to get what I asked. I took the cloth first, bringing it to her forehead.
“There you go, Grace,” I murmured, dragging the cool cloth to her cheeks and then to her neck. “Just a little overheated.”
She shifted and sighed, turning her head toward me.
God, she was beautiful.
I memorized the slope of her nose and the lift of her lashes. Watched the tremor of her pulse and steadying of her breath.
She whimpered, and her eyelids started to flutter.
“Grace.” I set the cloth down and brushed a strand of hair from her face just as her eyes opened, her gaze cloudy with confusion.
“What…”
“You passed out. Here, drink this.” I didn’t give her much of a choice or chance to protest before resting the cup of water against her lips.
As she took several slow sips, the color of her cheeks evened out, though she still looked fragile, more delicate than any other moment I’d spent with her.
