Learning to Let Go by Cynthia P. O'Neill

Author:Cynthia P. O'Neill [O'Neill, Cynthia P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-02-05T07:00:00+00:00

The last thing I remember were the fireworks going off behind the darkness of my eyes, clouding my vision with feelings of joy and completion. I clung to his chest as the biggest orgasm I’d ever had ripped through my body and mind, taking me to places I never thought were possible. I could see now why women flocked to Garrett. He was not only handsome, but oh-so-talented in bed. And he was mine! Where did that possessiveness come from? You know you care deeply for him, but slow it down, girl. You’re not in any rush. You still need to deal with your emotions about Chase and what he did to you.

I wanted to just lie against his chest and listen to his steady heartbeat. Feeling the heat of his skin pressed to mine and reveling in this amazing connection calmed me in ways I couldn’t explain. I moaned in frustration when he insisted on moving us to his bedroom.

“Why do I have to move? Tomorrow’s Sunday; it’s not like we have to go to work or get to bed early. Can’t we just stay here for the night?” I suggested.

“You know I would love nothing more than to wrap myself around you and hold you to me all night, but you need to take your medicine, Laurel. I don’t want you waking up frightened by nightmares. Besides, we need to clean ourselves up.” He laughed a second. “We’re dripping all over the bed.”

I watched as he strolled to another door and pulled out two terry cloth robes. He handed one to me as he put on the other, then proceeded to carry me out the door and up to his bedroom.

“We can get our clothes in the morning,” he assured me. “Right now it’s late and I’ve got better things on my mind.” His eyebrows arched in an oh-so-suggestive manner that made my blood heat instantly and my nipples harden against the fabric of the robe.

“All of your clothes are in here,” Garrett said as he set me on my feet in the master bedroom. “Your lingerie and unmentionables are in this chest of drawers, which belongs solely to you.”

I was surprised to see all of my clothes already on one side of his colossal closet. I knew women who would kill to have a closet like his. It was bigger than my dorm room at college, for crying out loud, with a seating area in the middle and cedar-lined areas for various lengths of clothes to hang, along with chest of drawers built right in for our more personal items. He had his clothes on one side and mine on the other. I shouldn’t have been able to fill that side with what I had, but it looked like he’d been using his personal shopper again to fill my wardrobe.

Everywhere I looked, including the bathroom, my stuff had been placed in coordination with his, as though I’d been living with him already. The man thought of everything and had the actions carried out in record time.

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