Grayson Crowne watched me from across the limousine, eyes sultry and half-lidded. Our wedding had ended hours ago.
Pink petal smile only on me.
We were on the cover of every magazine—Grayson, Sonnet, and I. It was strange, remembering how just months ago newspapers were plastered with A NEW ERA OF CROWNE.
This felt like the real beginning.
As if he knew what I was thinking, he slowly got back up, sitting on the other seat. His tongue pushed against a crooked smile—a cocky, arrogant, Grayson Crowne smile. No matter how many times I saw it, I’d never get used to it.
“What are you thinking?” I asked softly.
Eyes still locked on me, he pressed the button for the partition behind him. It rose slowly, before locking us into quiet.
“That tonight, when I fuck you, you’ll be my wife.”
I looked away on a smile, pressing a hand to my hot cheek. I really liked the sound of that.
I heard shifting, and when I looked back, Grayson was on the black velvet floor of the limo, on his knees, hands on my thighs.
Grayson Crowne on his knees before me, I would never get used to that sight.
“You’re mine, little wife. You’re officially Mrs. Crowne.”
The white satin and tulle of my wedding dress swallowed him. He dug his hands into the fabric, into my thighs, sliding up my body, pressing me back into the leather.
Until he caged me.
Until his lips were hot on my ear.
Until goose bumps slid up my spine, and I couldn’t breathe anything but Grayson.
“You are always, forever mine.”
I sighed at his reverent tone. I could feel it bleed into my heart, and I melted into him. Boneless.
“I was always yours,” I groaned.
The car came to a stop and the door opened, ushering in bright sun. Grayson didn’t even flinch. His throat bobbed with a jagged swallow, hand burning through the fabric.
It wasn’t perfect, as he’d said months ago when we’d proposed to each other. Though many had resonated with my confession, others still saw me as the girl who broke up his marriage, or saw him as the guy who left his pregnant wife for his mistress.
On the inside…I was finally with my soulmate and Lottie was finally free to find hers.
Grayson encased his teeth around my ring finger, tongue swirling around the flesh, eyes locked on mine. Heart jackhammering at the heat of his mouth, his hot lips.
Why couldn’t my heart get used to him, even now?
With so much trust, love, so much everything. It pounded like a jackhammer with the predatory way he watched me and the smile he had.
Slowly, he pulled my chin to his, and our eyes collided.
“Hey. Right now I’m just…” he trailed off, then the biggest Grayson Crowne smile graced his lips. “I’m just your husband.”
“And I’m just your wife.”
He fell forward into my neck on a groan.
When he came up, the playful look in his eyes had vanished into heat. “Say it again.”
“Wife,” I said softly.
I didn’t want perfect, and neither did he…because everything else was just fantasy.
We would be imperfect and ugly and happy.
Finally husband and wife.
THE END
Keep reading! I’ve included news on what’s coming next at Crowne Point, a way to win the entire series in paperback, as well as a special sneak preview of Heartless Hero, Abigail and Theo’s story, and where you first meet Story and Gray. Also, if you haven’t heard…Crowne Point is ON SALE and in KU! It’s the PERFECT time to bring your friends over to Crowne Point! Click here to get Heartless Hero right now!
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ABOUT HEARTLESS HERO
A brand new second chance bully romance from Mary Catherine Gebhard. Find out why Bestselling Author C.L. Matthews said "This is, and will be, my favorite bully book of all time” and author S.M. Soto called it “The best bully romance of 2019!"
There are rules to being Abigail Crowne’s bodyguard, rules to watching the infamous billion-dollar heiress, otherwise known as the Reject Princess.
Never forget your place, always put the Crowne name above all else, and never, ever hurt the Reject.
Especially don’t torment the Reject.
Even if she is a spoiled brat.
So when an opportunity presents itself to punish her, you definitely shouldn’t take it.
Then again, Abigail loves to be tortured, and I’ve waited patiently for revenge.
I’ll keep her safe... with cruel protection.
Love is off limits with Abigail Crowne, but no one said anything about hate.
ABIGAIL
My head pounded as I dragged my feet through the gate. Carrying my strappy Jimmy Choos, I walked alone past towering wrought iron, along cobblestone and perfectly trimmed emerald-green hedges, past crystal-blue fountains and dower-faced guards. They didn’t look at me, but I felt their stares all the same.
I’d lost my bodyguard. Again.
I’d been caught by the press. Again.
“You’re in so much shit.”
My older sister, Gemma, leaned against pretty white embellished walls, a cup of tea in her hands. When she saw me, she came forward, like she’d been waiting. I wouldn’t doubt it.
“I think I heard Mom say the words ‘complete disappointment.’” A smile curved her red lips just as a laugh echoed through the great halls.
Grayson, my brother.
“No, it was ‘utterly hopeless,’” he added. “The word ‘nunnery’ was also tossed around.” Gemma joined in his laughter, and I fought the urge to throw my strappy heels at their heads.
Both my siblings were tall and shared my mother and father’s iconic blond hair. It looked like spun rose gold. I, on the other hand, was barely five foot five, and had my great-grandmother’s hair, so brown it was almost black—just so it was obvious I was the black sheep.
“Where is she?”
“Take a wild guess,” Gemma said.
I swallowed my grimace, walking in the direction as my siblings followed after me, eager to watch what was about to unfold.
My mother, Tansy, loved her tea and cupcakes almost as much as she loved doling out my punishments. Most days she could be found in the sunroom, overlooking three miles of gardens, blue skies, and Atlantic Ocean.
Outside the sunroom, I knocked lightly with a sigh. “Mom—”
I stopped short, locked on the figure at the end of our pearly hallway. It had been years since I’d seen him, but I’d recognize his piercing green eyes anywhere.
Theo Hound.
“Abigail?” my mother’s lilting voice called.
I blinked, and he was gone. I must have seen wrong. That person was on the opposite side of the country, in California guarding my grandfather.
“Hello, Mother,” I said, coming into the room. I took my usual place before her feet, the midafternoon sun warm against my back. My siblings went to stand by my mother, both resting their hands on the curling back of her sateen chaise, as if really wanting to rub in how apart from them I was.
Mother placed the book she’d been reading on a table adorned with tea and cookies to her left, starting in on her usual censure. She wasn’t surprised, but she was disappointed. She both expected this and expected better.