Too Close
1211 Words
Chapter 3
Janessa's POV
I yanked my hand back like I’d been burned.
His skin was still hot, but the sound of Alesha's voice froze me harder than ice.
“Dad?”
“Nessa?”
Her curious call drifted down the hallway. She wasn’t even in the room yet.
But my heart still slammed in my chest like I’d been caught stealing.
Mr. G didn’t move. His eyes stayed on mine, jaw tight, like the moment wasn’t over- like he was daring me to flinch first.
Why did he have to look at me like that? Why did the air feel thick with everything we weren’t supposed to say?
I shoved a breath out. “You should get up-”
“Stay still.” He cut me off, low voice brushing over me.
Stay still?
With his daughter coming down the hall?
With the heat of his body still too close to mine?
I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to run. I wanted…
I didn’t even know what I wanted, except the way his gaze dragged fire across my skin made me dizzy and my middle dripping wet.
“Dad, what happened in the kitchen?” Alesha’s footsteps creaked closer.
Panic slammed into me and I shoved him away, fast. Panting.
He didn’t even blink. Didn’t rush. Just pulled my dress down like nothing happened. Like we hadn’t just been drowning in each other.
“We’re here,” he finally called.
My chest rose and fell too fast, while his voice was insanely calm.
When Alesha’s head peeked through the doorway a second later, I forced myself to smile. Too wide. Too fake.
“Oh my God, Nessa, you got burned?” she exclaimed.
Frowning at her dad, she asked, “How did you let it happen? What were you doing?”
My throat went dry.
Nothing. Say nothing. Please don’t look at me. Please don’t notice.
“It happened so fast,” he said smoothly, eyes never leaving mine. “I rushed her here immediately to soothe it.”
“Are you okay, Nessa?”
“Yes,” I croaked, then cleared my throat. “Mr. G acted fast and he’s given me ointment.” My skin flushed hot at the memory of him on his knees.
“You’re flushed, let me get you fresh clothes and ice,” she said quickly.
“Dad, would you please carry her out?”
Our eyes met again, and I only just noticed his hair and shirt were wet.
“Sure princess. Let's go, Nessa.” He romanced the name on his tongue. carrying me like I weighed nothing.
Our wet warm bodies pressed together- every move gliding us against each other. My heart was still in my mouth.
Too close. Too close. Way too close. Why was this happening?
My whole body ached as we climbed the stairs. It ached more with need when he took me into his bedroom instead.
“Alesha’s room is a mess with all the preparations,” he explained casually, but his arms didn’t loosen, even when Alesha came running back with ice.
“Ah, thank you for bringing her here,” she smiled, distracted.
Then he planted me on his bed. And I swear, my wetness dripped into his bed.
I watched him as he walked to his closet, and picked out a shirt.
“Take good care of her Princess.”
He met my eyes then left the room like he hadn’t just set my whole body on fire.
I changed into the sports bra and trousers Alesha handed me, hyper aware of being in his room.
Then I pressed the ice against my belly.
“So much for making a nice meal.” I mumbled.
“Now I’m cooked- burned belly. Burned pride. Burned sanity.”
All I could think of was his mouth on me. Where his hands and lips had been.
It felt hotter than the burn itself. I pressed the ice harder, praying it would cool more than just my belly.
I put my clothes in the dryer and headed downstairs. Only to find Mr. G at the stove.
As soon as I walked into the kitchen, he sucked in a breath.
We looked at each other, not saying a word. Not explaining what just happened.
“Don’t tell me you’re here to keep cooking?” He c****d his brows, eyes fixed on my burns… or my curves. I couldn’t tell.
He looked hungry. Hungry for me.
“You got that right,” I said, stepping closer to him at the stove.
“You’re hurt, take a seat.”
“It’s my treat, I can finish up. I want to.”
“I’m not letting you.”
“It’s not your place to.”
He tilted his head, hiding a smile. “You’re stubborn, as always.”
“You’re gentle, as always.” I smiled back, heartbeat wilding.
His expression shifted, voice dropping. “Don’t test me, Janessa.”
My stomach flipped.
God, why did his warning sound like a promise?
My heart was sprinting, but my mouth- reckless, reckless- wouldn’t shut up.
“Or else what?”
His eyes flicked down my body, then back to my face. The corner of his mouth curved, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“You don’t want to find out.”
“Try me.”
The silence stretched, long enough that the simmering pan hissed like it was answering for him.
One second I was on my feet. The next, the world tilted.
My breath caught as his hands hooked under me, lifting me over his shoulder like I was some kind of fancy sack.
My back hit the chair and the napkin tightened around my wrists.
“Ha-ha. Very funny Mr. G.” I laughed.
Thinking he was just joking. Until I tugged- and it didn’t give.
My laugh died. My stomach dropped. My eyes flew to his. His stayed dark, not moving from mine.
“Mr. G-” I breathed.
He leaned in. “Say my name.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
His fingers brushed my collarbone, then slid lower, to my sternum, then my belly.
“Hmm,” I inhaled sharply.
Oh God. Where we… Was I? I didn't even have words.
Heat sparked where his hand touched and flowed between my traitorous thighs once again.
“Mr. G-” I gasped, voice breaking.
“Graham,” he corrected, his hands playing with my neck.
I was shaking. My breath, my body, my whole world trembling under his touch.
Every place he touched felt owned. Branded. Mine and his, even if this was dangerous territory.
His index finger dragged slowly across the edge of my sports bra. My legs pressed tight.
“Graham…” I whispered, finally giving in.
He leaned in and-
Ding-dong.
The doorbell cut the air like a blade.
He froze beside me. My eyes went wide. My whole chest felt like it dropped through the floor.
The sound echoed through the house, again
and again. He lifted his head, jaw tight. Frustrated. Hungry.
And me? I just sat there, wrists bound, legs shaking, heart trying to claw out of my chest.
I needed him. What the hell?
- Writer
