Lahat ng Kabanata ng Off Limits : Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

CallieThe door clicked shut behind us, shutting out the distant roar of the ocean and the lingering heat from the encounter on the beach. The house felt impossibly quiet in comparison, the low hum of the late afternoon sun casting shadows across the bedroom. Every sound—the soft rustle of fabric, the distant call of a gull—seemed amplified, but instead of making me tense, it drew me closer to Grayson.His warm hand found mine immediately, pulling me toward him. Grayson’s gaze swept over me. His intense gaze made me shiver, that low, controlled heat that always made my knees go weak. “Every part of you is mine,” he murmured. I nodded, words unnecessary. I could feel it—his claim, his possession, the magnetic pull that bound me to him completely.He stepped closer, hand trailing along my arm, pulling me gently but firmly toward the bed. I let myself be guided, body and mind opening to the promise of his touch. The sunlight filtered through the blinds, catching on the planes of his s

CallieThe sound of the doorbell made my chest skip, even though I could guess who it would be. The morning sunlight slanted sharply across the floors, but it did little to cut through the sudden chill that gripped me. Every instinct screamed caution as Grayson’s hand found mine, fingers intertwining with a firmness that calmed me immediately.“I will handle it,” he murmured.I nodded, letting him move ahead of me as I stood in the living room, the tension coiling tighter with every step he took toward the door. And then, as I expected, the familiar click of sharp heels echoed through the hallway.Mary.Her smile was slow, and perfectly composed, but it didn’t hide the calculation behind her eyes. “Good morning,” she purred, stepping inside uninvited, surveying the space as if it belonged to her. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything… personal.”I could feel the heat spike low in my stomach—that mix of irritation and vulnerability that always came with her presence. My fingers tighten

CallieThe Carter house had a way of settling into silence in the late afternoon. The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the gaps between thought and feeling, while sunlight filtered through the tall windows of Grayson’s study, dust motes drifting lazily in the air.I lingered longer than I should have.I knew that. I felt it in the tight coil of tension beneath my ribs, in the way my pulse refused to slow. Papers lay scattered across the desk where Grayson had abandoned his work earlier, his jacket slung carelessly over the back of the chair. I traced the edge of a document without reading it, my mind far too occupied by the memory of his hands, his voice, the way the world had narrowed until it was only us.Grayson stood behind me. His presence was dangerously comforting. The silence between us wasn’t awkward; it was loaded. My fingers found his almost without conscious thought.He didn’t hesitate. His hand closed around mine, firm and familiar, anchoring me the way he always d

CallieThe morning had that brittle quality. I hadn’t expected to leave my apartment until mid-afternoon, but something—or someone—drew me out. Maybe it was the ache of being alone with my thoughts, the gnawing guilt that refused to loosen its grip, or the faint hope that seeing him again might make sense of the chaos.I wandered through town without much direction, my shoes clicking against the pavement, my fingers tracing the rim of my coffee cup more out of habit than comfort. The streets were busy but not crowded; sunlight glinted off shop windows and cars, warming the skin of strangers who passed without a thought. My heart, though, stayed heavy, bound to a single memory; Mia’s voice breaking when she’d asked, “Callie… what is this?”I hadn’t expected to see Grayson. I hadn’t wanted to. And yet, there he was.He stood near the corner of the little coffee shop, one hand holding a cup, the other tucked into his jacket pocket, as if steadying himself against a storm only he could se

Callie The Carter house smelled like faint pine and polished wood, a comforting scent that should have felt like home. Instead, it pressed down on me, thick with unease. I’d returned that evening after what felt like a lifetime apart from Grayson, and the warmth of our reunion still clung to me like a protective coat. Yet, even as I stepped into the living room, I sensed a shadow lingering. Mary was there. She didn’t greet me with a smile or even a glance. She stood in the corner, phone in hand, lips pressed into a thin, calculated line. “Callie,” she said, voice deceptively sweet. “You are back early.” I felt my pulse tighten. The sweet veneer of her tone didn’t mask the intention behind it. Mary always had an angle, always had an audience she was carefully curating. And right now, I could feel the danger of being in her line of fire. “Hi,” I managed, keeping my voice steady. My fingers twitched at my sides, remembering Grayson’s hand on mine earlier, the way he made the wor