itâs going to last?â
âYes,â she breathed. âYes. We can.â
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again. Slow. Deep. Passionate. She pressed her soft body against his hard one, losing herself in his kiss. Giving in to the pleasure of his tongue and his touch.
This man was kissing her senseless, and Chante liked it. Needed it. Wanted it. Breaking the kiss, his lips curved into a seductive smile. âSo whatâs this special thing that you wanted to show me?â he asked.
âUmm,â Chante began as clouds of desire cleared her brain. âMy grandmotherâs legacy. She has a shop on Folly Beach that is a must-see tourist spot.â
âSounds like youâre pretty well connected in this city. Why did you ever leave?â
Shrugging as they started walking down the pier, she replied, âWanted to blaze my own path, and I couldnât do it in the shadow of my familyâs history.â
What she didnât say was she wanted to be far away from her motherâs judgment. Chante was sure that had she come up with a cure for cancer without being married, Allison wouldâve found fault with it.
âInteresting. I knew that I wanted to follow in my fatherâs footsteps. And leaving New York wasnât an option for me in my younger days. I wanted to be bigger than Trump. Then I realized I had the best role model ever because Trump is an idiot.â
Chante laughed. âThat is the truth. My mother and grandmother have different views on legacies. Figured it was best to make my own.â
âMiss Independent. Bet you started walking when you were six months old,â he said as they reached the car.
âFunny. I was about eight months old, thank you very much.â
Giving her a slow once-over, he was thankful she had those hips and that round booty. He was thankful for those lips and the skillful way she used them.
âLetâs go,â he said, feeling the burgeoning of his growing erection against his zipper.
Chante locked eyes with him, seeing something that made her thighs quiver.
âOkay,â she said, then did her imitation of Bo Duke and hopped in the car without opening the door. Zachâs knees nearly buckled as he laughed.
âDid you just . . . ?â
âThere is a seventeen-year-old in me whoâs having so much fun right now. Get in the car so we can go!â
Opening the door, he got into the car and buckled up. âGiddy up!â Chante took off like a bolt of lightning. Zach gripped the side of the door.
âYour seventeen-year-old is a little out of control,â he quipped.
Chante eased off the gas. âYeah, it is tourist season, and the last thing I need is a speeding ticket. My mother would call me a criminal.â
âI get the feeling that you two arenât that close,â he said. âI thought that was a southern thing.â
âYou havenât mentioned your mother,â she said, not wanting to get into her relationship with her mother.
Zach nodded. âMy mother passed away when my sister and I were young. I think the reason Dad and I were so close is because we felt we had to team up and protect Zoe.â
âAnd how did she feel about that?â
Zach laughed. âMy sister is a rebel, so she was none too pleased. I think thatâs why she became a private investigatorâso she can take all the risks we tried to protect her from.â
âSheâs older or younger?â
âYounger by about five minutes. Zoeâs my twin.â
âWow,â she said. âI wish I had a sibling, but to have a twin, that must be exciting.â
âEh, when sheâs not in one of her moods. But I love my sister, and Iâm so proud of her. Sheâs saved my ass more than once or twice. I still worry about her, though.â
âBecause sheâs a woman? I donât know why men think women arenât capable of handling ourselves.
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