“Fuck you,” I say without heat, because I know Drew is messing with me. I’d have said the same to him.
I haven’t told them about the things we did before I kissed her. It was too personal. But I think about it now. The sounds she made, how she came against my fingers. My head hurts and is too heavy to hold up. I push away my cup and rest my face on the table. It’s cool against my cheek. “She seemed into it but then she wasn’t.”
“You must have said something stupid, then.”
“You don’t know that, Drew.” Anna gets up and makes herself a cup of espresso. The machine whistles and grumbles.
“Oh, no? Because I’m betting he did. Gray often speaks before he thinks. Kind of like someone else I know.” Drew ducks the towel Anna throws at him, then he gives me an expectant look. “Well? Think, bonehead.”
I lift head to glare. “I did everything I could not to freak her out. She asked me what we were doing, and I told her that… Oh, shit.” On a groan, I slam my head back down on the table. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Told you,” Drew says to Anna.
“Zip it, Baylor,” Anna says. “What did you say to her, Gray?”
Don’t think. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to matter. Because that’s what I thought she wanted to hear. Because I was afraid to tell her the truth. “All the wrong things.” I shove back from the table. “I’ve got to go.”
Twenty
Ivy
I’m depressed. Gray is ignoring me, and I’m avoiding Fi. I don’t want a pep talk. I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to bake. I just want to sit in my house and ignore the world. Thankfully, Fi gives me space and heads out to her boyfriend’s house.
It’s been raining all day. A miserable, cold downpour that beats against my roof. I’ve got the heat turned up and am curled under a thick blanket, while watching North by Northwest. If anything can take my mind off of Gray, it has to be Hitchcock.
I tell myself this again as I sip my cocoa and stare blankly at the TV. My eyes are dry and hot. I should go to bed. But I know it won’t help. Sleep has avoided me for days.
My fingers curl tight around the mug as a surge of anger rushes through me. I’m mad at myself. I’m not being proactive. I should hunt Gray down, force him to talk to me. Apologize for being a jerk. Tell him he’s the most important thing in my life.
I’m setting down my cocoa when someone pounds on the door. Do I want it to be Gray? With my whole being. But he hasn’t called or texted. And he never shows up without warning.
Wary, I make my way to the door. “Yeah?” I call, visions of psychos dancing in my head.
“Ivy.” Gray’s voice is muffled by rain and the door. “Let me in.”
Two seconds later, it’s open and I’m facing him.
He’s soaked, his big body hunched against the rain that bounces off him. “Ivy.”
“Gray. What the hell?” The rain has mixed with icy sleet and hard pings of hail. It’s freaking twenty degrees out, and he’s only wearing a wet, long-sleeve shirt. “Where’s your truck?”
“Broke down a mile back. Think it’s the fuel pump.” He sounds like a zombie. His skin is too pale, his lips blue.
I grab hold of his arm and tug him in, slamming the door shut against the icy wind that gusts into the house. “Why didn’t you call so I could get you?”
“Broke my phone last Saturday.”
“Oh.” Well, at least I know why he hasn’t answered my calls.
He doesn’t move, but stands there dripping onto the floor. Straggling strands of his hair fall into his eyes. Eyes that are haunted, gazing at me with pain and desperation. “Ivy… I ache. For you.”
My breath hitches, and he hears it.
His fists clench. “I can’t do this. Staying away. I can’t…” A full body shiver wracks him. “I n-need you… I’m through being…considerate…”
He’s shivering so badly, his teeth clatter.
“Shhh. Gray. You’re freezing. Come here.” Worried, I take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. He lets me tug him along, his steps wooden.
“Take off your shoes and socks,” I tell him once we’re in my room.
And he does, never moving his pained gaze off me. “Ivy…”
I pull his sodden shirt free. In the soft light of the table lamp, his torso is pale and prickled with cold. “Let’s get these things off first,” I murmur. Together we tackle his jeans, our fingers tangling. Gray pushes it all off, but I don’t look. I can’t right now. My eyes stay on his shoulders as I lead him to my bed, lifting the down comforter up so he can slide in.
Fully dressed, I follow and pull him close. Instantly, he wraps an arm around my waist and burrows his face into the crook of my neck. I get cold just holding him, and I tuck the covers tighter around us.
“Crazy ass,” I murmur, my hand rubbing soothing circles over his broad back and down his arms to get his blood flowing. “You’re half frozen.”
Gray grunts, his grip on me tight. The cold wet of his hair seeps through my shirt. But he’s getting warmer. It feels so good to hold him. The low place in my belly that has been hard and pained eases. Then awareness sets in, the heavy weight of his arm along my waist, of how he’s completely naked, wrapped around me, his thick thigh pushed between mine.
I touch a damp strand of his hair. “I should have gotten you a towel.”
Slowly he stirs, and then his breath gusts against the sensitive skin at my neck. “I should move. But I don’t want to.”
He sounds so petulant, like a boy in threat of losing his favorite toy, that my lips tremble on a smile. “Oh sure, get me all wet. I don’t mind.”
Gray makes a strangled noise, and a weak laugh escapes him. “Oh, Mac, so many things I could do with that. It’s almost too easy.”
A furious blush hits my cheeks as I realize what I’ve said. But I find myself snickering against his temple. The urge to kiss his forehead makes me bite my lip. “I’ve missed you, Gray.”
He lifts his head. His thick lashes are clumped together with damp. “You told me to stay away.”
“I didn’t mean all the time,” I mutter, still stung.
“Truth, Ivy? I can’t be around you and not think of what we did together. Not want to talk about it.”
That quickly, all the confusion and fear I’ve been feeling surges like an incoming tide. The need for escape has me breaking free from his hold and jumping out of bed.
From the corner of my eye, I see Gray lurch up. His hard, irate voice follows. “Don’t you dare run again, Ivy.”
“I’m not running…” My words die on my tongue because Gray is out of bed and stalking toward me and, sweet mother… Wide shoulders, flat-packed muscles leading down to a narrow waist, he’s so gorgeous my knees go weak. His massive thighs bunch and shift with each hard step, his cock hanging thick and heavy between them.
Out of breath, I lean against the wall to keep from toppling. But he doesn’t notice. His gaze burns bright and angry. He walks right up to me, not stopping until he’s caged me in, bracing his arms on either side of my head. And then I see it isn’t anger in his eyes, but desperation. His voice comes out soft but insistent. “Looks like running away to me.”
God, he’s too close. I can’t think. My breath comes out choppy, my breasts nearly brushing the taut wall of his chest. “Gray, get back in bed—”
“Only if you come with me,” he rasps, his gaze roaming my face. But the bluish tinge of his lips worries me.
When he shivers again, I duck under his arm, earning a sound of protest, and head to the bathroom with Gray hot on my heels.
“Ivy—”
“Hold on,” I tell him when we enter the bathroom.
Because it’s my dad’s guesthouse, the shower stall is massive, with white marble slab tiles and a glass partition wall to keep the water from splashing everywhere. I turn the shower on full heat. “Get in. I can’t talk to you when I know you’re half frozen.”
I cross my arms over my chest and
wait, not looking at him. Naked Gray is not something I can handle without dissolving on the spot. But I feel him brush past me, muttering under his breath about stubborn women.
“I’m in.” His deep voice echoes throughout the room as steam begins to rise. “You happy now? Can we talk?”
“So talk.”
He doesn’t answer. The steady beat of the shower fills the silence. And the air grows humid. My heart thuds against my ribs.
“Ivy. Look at me.”
“Um. You’re naked.” The muscles along my back tense up with the urge to turn and stare.
“You just saw me naked.” There’s a smile in his voice.
“Yeah, I think we need to have that boundaries talk again.”
A drop of water hits my neck, and it sends a bolt of feeling to my toes. His voice is close now, and I know he’s leaning past the glass. “Ivy Mac, I want you to see me. Nothing between us. Please, honey. Look at me.”
The request wraps around my heart, has me turning. And, holy hell. My mouth goes dry, and I have to brace myself. Standing half behind the water-streaked glass, nothing is hidden. Wet is a good look for Gray. Droplets of water bead silver on golden skin, trickle in paths over valleys and hills of muscle.
My fingers twitch to slide along that slick skin, to run along his dripping hair, now bronze with wet. But it’s the way he’s looking at me, his blue eyes pleading to let me in, that has tenderness squeezing my chest.
Smooth glass meets my palm. Gray’s hand lifts, presses against the other side, his fingers so much longer than mine. “Ivy, I kissed you and—”
“You told me it didn’t matter. You acted as though it was all just a spur-of-the-moment thing, a fucking impulse, and I just happened to be convenient.” The painful truth pours out. It hurts to hear it again, like a burn that’s been prodded.
Gray grimaces as if it hurts him too. “I lied.”
It punches the breath out of me. “Lied?”
The corners of his eyes crinkle in pained expression. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a dumbass. Okay?” Gray takes a breath and leans his head against the edge of the shower glass. “I thought if I told you it wasn’t a big deal you wouldn’t freak out, and it was the worst thing I could have said.”
“Yeah, it was.”
With a solemn expression, Gray cups his big hand around the base of my neck, a gentle hold that grounds me, his skin warm and wet. “Ivy, I can’t lie to you anymore. Nothing about you is convenient. And you are the only one who has ever mattered. I look at you and I want to kiss you. Touch you.” His lids lower, his gaze hot and needy on my mouth. “I want to learn your body, find all those secret places that make you go crazy.” A puff of air leaves my lips, and he gives me a half-pained smile. “God, I want those things, honey. I want them so badly—”
“Gray—”
“No. Let me finish.” He takes a breath, his shoulders tensing. His thumb ghosts over my chin. “I don’t want to this be some lame friends-with-benefits thing. I want you to be mine. My girl. I want to be your guy. The thought of you with someone else… Shit. It rips my heart out.”
“Gray.”
He closes his eyes, giving his head a sharp shake. “I keep seeing that picture of you with that guy. It guts me, Ivy.”
“What picture? What guy?” Of all the things to focus on. But my thinking has gone haywire. And he isn’t making any sense.
Gray’s eyes fill with hurt as he looks at me. “Fiona sent me a picture of you dancing with some…” His head drops forward as he glares at the floor.
Fi, that little shit. Carefully, I touch Gray’s jaw. “It was just one dance. I can’t even remember the guy. That was me trying to have fun without you. And failing.”
His breath hitches then shudders. Relief, pain, anxiety. I’ve caused this in him. And it tears at my heart.
“I don’t want another guy, Gray.”
It seems as though his entire body stills at my words, and his gaze grows searching and vulnerable. “But do you want me?”
My fingers wrap around his damp neck. Holding on. “I…” My voice cracks and dies. “I’m scared,” I blurt out. “You’re my best friend. I can’t stand it when we’re apart. And if it goes bad…I don’t want to lose you.”
The tips of his fingers press into the curve of my jaw. “You will never lose me, Ivy. Never. I will always be your friend.” His large, wet palm cups my cheek. “I know you’re worried about how it will be with your dad—”
“No,” I cut in. “That was stupid. I should never have said that. He has nothing to do with us.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Gray’s thumb glides over my chin. “And I know you’re leaving for London. I don’t care. Not enough to turn my back on this. We’ll work it out.”
“I’m not going back to London.”
Gray stills, his gaze snapping to mine. “Don’t mess with me, honey, not about this.”
I give his neck a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to talk to my parents. I want to try to be an agent.” Just saying it sends little burst of nervous excitement through me. It feels right.
Gray slowly smiles. “You’ll kick ass, Ivy Mac.”
I lean into his hold, letting him support me. “I don’t know where I’ll live, but I’m not leaving the States.”
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” he whispers. “Because I’m not quitting on you.” He no longer looks scared or hurt, but confident. “It will be so good, Mac. So fucking good between us. We just have to try. Tell me you want try.”
My heart beats so hard, he has to hear it. Gently, I reach out and wipe a drop of water from the corner of his mouth, my touch lingering. “I don’t think we’ve ever been just friends, Gray. I think I’ve wanted you from the beginning.”
His eyes close tight, a sigh leaving him, and he bites his lower lip. When he opens his eyes again, they shine sapphire blue. “You’ve owned me from ‘shenanigans,’ Ivy Mac.”
For a moment, we simply smile at each other, the reality of us as a couple, as something serious, vibrating in the air, tickling my skin, making my heart beat fast and strong.
Then he’s pulling me into the shower, warm water soaking my clothes, my skin. The air humid on my face. And we’re kissing, melting explorations of lips and tongue and teeth. My hand grips his hair, holding him closer.
Gray groans, angles his head to penetrate me deep. His tongue slides against mine, honey-sweet to my starved senses. All I can think is that I’m kissing Gray without worrying about why. Gray is kissing me. And we both seem to revel in this new freedom. Each press of lips, each nibble and soft suck, saying, finally, and this, this is what I’ve wanted, and more, give me more. Yes. Like that. More of that. Don’t stop.
“Gray.” I suckle his plump lower lip. “I need you.”
He shudders, his hands in my hair, on my cheeks. “You have me,” he says against my lips. “I don’t think you understand how much you have me.”
He kisses his way down my neck, pressing his hard body against mine, grinding that thick, long cock of his between my legs. “I’m crazy about you, Ivy. You have to know that. I’m so lost in you, I don’t ever want to find my way back.”
One tug of his hands, and my soaked shirt is off, hitting the shower floor with a slap. Skin slides against skin, wet, firm. His mouth on mine, our fingers tangling as we push down my pants. I kick them free.
I move to him, but Gray holds me still with one hand on my shoulder. His lips part, his breath fast and agitated.
“Let me look at you,” he says. “I need to look at you.”
I’ve never been fully naked in front of anyone before. That I am now has my stomach clenching, the urge to cover myself tensing along my arms. But this is Gray, asking with his heart in his voice.
So I don’t hide. My back rests against the cool, wet tiles, and I let my arms fall to my sides.
A strangled sound leaves him, his grip on my shoulder tightening as he looks his fill.
<
br /> I know I’m not perfect. My legs are long, but not muscular because I don’t work out. My hips are wider than I’d like, my butt a handful, even for him. A shiver works over me. I like myself just fine, but I’m not perfect. I—
“God.” He swallows, the muscles along his throat working. “You’re…I kept trying to picture you. So many times, I thought about you.” Gray rakes a hand through his dripping hair, sending droplets over me. “Now? Beautiful seems too small a word. I could look at you forever, Mac.”
His gaze travels up, taking in my stomach, which isn’t a board, but smooth enough, and lingers on my boobs, average size with pale pink nipples that point upward. The heat in his eyes has my breasts growing heavy, aching at the tips, and I arch my back a little, lifting them closer to him.
He grunts, a sort of “unh” breath of sound, and his broad chest hitches. Slowly, like it has a mind of its own, his hand lifts. The blunt tip of his finger touches my nipple, catching up a bead of water, and I feel it to my toes. I almost sink to the floor when he puts that long finger in his mouth and slowly sucks it.
Gray makes a little hum of pleasure and smiles. His large hand, so perfect for clutching a football and protecting it until he enters the end zone, engulfs my breast, swallows it whole. Warm, callused palms and strong fingers. The way he gently kneads my breast feels so good I can’t breathe properly. His gaze is slumberous and hot on what he’s doing to me.
And God, he’s beautiful, his body so tight. Perfection. How am I supposed to keep from devouring every substantial inch of him? And then I realize I don’t have to refrain. He’s mine now. My hands are on him before I can think, running along his broad chest, over the small nubs of his nipples and down the hard planes of his abs. Jesus, he feels good.
Gray shudders, his head falling to my shoulder so he can nuzzle my neck. “More. Touch me, Mac. Please.”
The blunt length of his erection brushes my belly. It’s like a brand, catching all my attention. And I haven’t even had my hands on it.
Without another thought, I sink to my knees and my mouth catches the tip his cock, drawing it in before he can utter a word. The large head is smooth and hot, swollen so tight that it throbs against the roof of my mouth. I give it a slow suck, and a helpless gurgle leaves Gray’s lips. His palms slap against the tiles as he braces himself, that long, lean body of his bunching with tension.