Let me spend some time to introduce myself and in a little while I'll post something special from Fearless for Love AND a giveaway!
My name is Clara Stone and I'm from Boise, ID. I'm a huge CW tv addict, along with Zombies. I believe that true love is what makes this world go round and so every one of my stories has that as a theme, among other elements, regardless of it being YA or NA, Contemporary or Paranormal. Romance is what I write, what I read.
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I've got tons of giveaways and author takeovers that I do in that group, so be sure to check it out!
Now here's what you're looking for: A deleted scene from Fearless For Love
Before I can take another step away from him, he closes the space between us, until it feels like he’s everywhere at once, filling up the entire
Before I can take another step away from him, he closes the space between us, until it feels like he’s everywhere at once, filling up the entire hallway with his presence. His beautiful hazel eyes paralyze me in the most infuriating way. His body presses against mine, asking me to stay. His mouth is so close. So, so close. My pulse skyrockets; my legs grow weak.
I want to cry, and I want to laugh. I feel like a fucking mess and it’s all because he’s touching me. I want to hit him and hug him. I want to do something. I can’t control the flood of emotions that roll off me, through me. I . . . I need to do something . . . and finally, I do.
I bang my fists against his chest, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he takes the punishment like he deserves it. I grab his shirt in my fist and pull his face closer. He comes willingly, a pained expression written all over his beautiful features.
His huge hands swallow my face and I stop beating at him. He searches my eyes. His nostrils flare, and my words come fumbling out in a rush.
“You drive me crazy, and you’re always in my head. I can’t stop thinking about you. Even when I try not to, I’m thinking about you. And I don’t want to. And God knows you’re going to break me if I let you. But I can’t . . .” I shake my head and he lets go of my face. My voice breaks. “I hate you, Harrington. I hate you so fucking much.”
I want him to tell me how wrong I am. That really, he’s a good guy, that he’s not the bloodthirsty monster I saw him be at the fight. But he doesn’t say any of that. He simply takes a step back, giving me space to breathe.
“I wish you wouldn’t. Hate me, that is. But it doesn’t matter what I want. That’s . . . that’s what’s best.”
My hands curl into fists. “For whom?”
He sighs, the muscle in his jaw popping. “You should go, Jess.”
I do, but not before I shove him, flipping him the bird and yelling,
“Fuck you, Harry.” Because I’m mature like that, and that man infuriates me like no other. I stomp my way toward the stockroom, not glancing back until I reach the door. When I do, he’s still standing there, staring at me like there’s something more he wants me to understand.