Lahat ng Kabanata ng Off Limits : Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

CallieThe bedroom was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the nightlight Mia had left in the corner. The air smelled faintly of linen and felt like home—ours. My heart was still racing from the study, from Grayson’s touch, his promise, and the warning in Mary’s email.Grayson closed the door behind him and looked at me slowly, his eyes dark and focused. That look always made my stomach twist.“You are shaking,” he said quietly, stepping closer. His hand brushed my arm, warm and steady. “Are you scared? Turned on? Both?”“Maybe both,” I whispered.A smirk tugged at his lips as his fingers slid into my hair. “Then let me fix it.”He kissed me before I could answer—slow, hungry, and full of the control I both feared and craved. My hands pressed against his chest, feeling his warmth, the solid strength beneath his shirt.His kiss deepened until everything fell away. There was only his breath against my skin, the rasp of his stubble against my jaw, and the quiet, desperate sound of us tryin

CallieThe sun had dipped lower in the sky, painting the streets in gold and shadows as we stepped out of the cafe. The warmth of the late afternoon was almost comforting. My hand still tingled from the subtle, possessive grip Grayson had held under the table. Grayson’s gaze stayed locked on me the moment we hit the sidewalk, dark and intent. I tried to act casual, to walk beside him like nothing had happened, but my heels felt heavy, my steps uncertain. Every instinct in me screamed that we were moving on a line too sharp to ignore.He stopped near his car, and without a word, he pinned me lightly against the door. The impact was enough to make my chest press against his, and I could feel the heat radiating from him.“You saw him right,” he said, voice rough, edged with a tension I hadn’t heard before. “Jude. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the way he looked at you… at us.”I swallowed, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt against him. “I… I saw him,” I admitted, my voice barely abo

CallieThe festival was packed with people, lights, and music. Everyone around us was laughing and having fun, but all I could feel was Grayson. He stayed close to me everywhere we walked—his hand on my back, his fingers brushing mine, like he refused to let me drift even an inch away.“Relax,” he said quietly. “I am right here.”I tried. But every time someone looked our way, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mary—or someone who followed her—was watching.He must have noticed, because his hand slid down and took mine.“She doesn’t matter,” he said. “Forget her.”But the tight feeling in my stomach didn’t go away.We stopped by a booth where a fire juggler was performing. Grayson stood behind me, his hand firm at my lower back, keeping me pressed against him. When we moved on to get apple cider, his fingers brushed mine again and again—small touches that felt huge.By the time we reached a quieter corner of the festival, I could barely think straight.He turned me and pinned me gently

The silence had changed.It wasn't tense like before. It felt as though both of us were waiting for the other to move, breathe, break.Grayson sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, head bowed, hands clasped so tight his knuckles had gone white. The rise and fall of his shoulders told me everything—he was breaking apart. I sat on the opposite edge, staring at the back of his neck. The muscles there were tight, strained. He looked like a man trying not to shatter.A minute passed. Maybe two. Maybe a lifetime.My chest squeezed. The distance between us felt unbearable.I forced down a lump in my throat and reached out—just my fingers, trembling a little—touching the back of his hand.He flinched.But he didn’t pull away.“Grayson,” I whispered.His head lifted slowly. Too slowly. Like he was terrified of what he’d see on my face.When our eyes locked, something in him shifted.He didn’t say a word or hesitate—he just acted.Suddenly, Grayson grabbed my wrist and p

CallieThe Carter house smelled like freshly brewed coffee and faint traces of cinnamon rolls, a scent that should have felt comforting but instead made my chest tighten. Mia was home today, wandering through the living room with her headphones slung around her neck, laptop open on the sofa, completely absorbed in her work.Grayson and I moved around the kitchen like dancers in a delicate choreography, both aware of the invisible lines we couldn’t cross. I reached for the sugar jar he’d just picked up, and our fingers brushed.It was such a small contact, but I felt the jolt ran straight up my arm. I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let my hand stay against his, just for a second longer than necessary. His eyes flicked to mine, a slow, knowing tilt of his mouth that made my stomach twist. “Careful,” he murmured. “I am,” I whispered back, letting my palm rest lightly against the side of his forearm. Every brush of his fingers against mine felt deliberate. I had to remind myself constant