by Erika Kelly
He lowered his head and let out a harsh breath.
“You drove me home that day. We had hot chocolate and hung out and, after you left, I went back to my bedroom and found your note. And, the thing is, you never said stuff like, Keep your chin up or…don’t listen to those idiots. You never addressed the bullies at all.” She reached for his hand, threading their fingers together. “You never gave them power.”
“What’d I write?”
“You drew a picture of a dress—a pretty lame one, if you ask me.” She gave him a teasing smile.
“It was the medium.”
“Ah, so if it had been paper, you’d have sketched a masterpiece?”
“Well, yeah.”
“You probably would have, Mr. Good-at-Literally-Everything. Anyhow, beneath the dress, you wrote my name. But you didn’t spell it out. K-N-O-X. You made it like my signature. And underneath you wrote in parentheses, This is going to be worth a fortune one day.”
He grinned. “I meant your autograph, not my sketch.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m a lot quicker than I look. The point is that, on a truly shitty day, you made me smile because I knew you meant I’d be a famous designer one day.” She shifted so she could face him. “You didn’t tell me not to worry about those idiots. You made me focus on the future. On the talent I could rely on to get me out of here. You always made me feel like I had value.” She showed him her inked bracelet of tiny stars. “That’s where this came from.”
He brought her wrist to his mouth and kissed it. “You mean I reminded you of your value.”
“Yes. Exactly.” She clasped his hand tightly. “I never dreamed I could be with a guy like you.”
“Knox.” He let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t want to be some ideal.”
“No, I know. I don’t mean it like that. Well, I kind of do. Because, back then, you were an ideal. Every time I went to your house, I felt like I didn’t belong. Like your dad would pull you aside and go, What’s she doing here? You’re the best man I’ve ever known, and I didn’t think I could have the best guy. I thought—I guess subconsciously—that I could only have someone more like me.”
“Do you mean a guy who doesn’t let life knock him down? Who doesn’t let other people define him? A talented guy who makes shit happen? Because that’s what my dad saw—that’s what anyone who knows you sees.”
“It’s funny how different people show you different facets of yourself. I never saw myself the way you see me.”
“I will gladly hold your mirror.”
“Ugh, not after tonight’s ugly cry. God, I can’t even remember the last time I lost it like that.”
“Pretty sure you’ve been in crisis mode your whole life.”
“What does that mean?”
“You spent a lot of your childhood alone in that trailer, and I’ve been in there. Those sounds are creepy. Trucks roaring past, wind making it creak. Remember that night you called me because a pack of wolves was howling?”
She did. That had been terrifying.
“You never knew when the bullies would strike or whether your boyfriend was sober. There wasn’t much about your life you could control. You moved to New York City and Paris by yourself, spent a year making dresses alone in a house on Maui, knowing that your ability to support yourself rested on your shoulders. I’m going to guess you spent every day worried about whether you’d finish in time or not have anything good enough to show.”
“I did.” For a moment the truth shone so brightly it blinded her, so that all she could do was live inside the rightness of it. “My whole life, everything has seemed critical, every problem life or death. You’re right. I have been in crisis mode.”
“And I think—I hope—for the first time tonight, you get that you’re not alone anymore.” He drew her so tight against him nothing could get between them. “Maybe that allowed you to break down a little.”
“I didn’t scare you away?”
“I’m thinking you’re not grasping the situation. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to see me for who I am.”
“And who’s that?”
“The one who carries your heart.”
Chapter Sixteen
Heat, lust…his body burned, his hips lifted off the mattress. More, deeper. Jesus Christ, he was so hard, so ready to burst.
Gray awakened to the slide of silky hair across his stomach, the firm caress of soft hands on his bare skin, and the sensation of a hungry mouth sucking his cock.
That scent in the sheets—sweet, lightly floral, all Knox—sent him to a place he’d never been. He reached beneath the sheets, his hands tangling in silky hair, and it hit him.
Knox. He got the girl.
I fucking got the girl.
Her hand squeezed the base of his cock, tugging in tandem with her sucking mouth, her tongue flicking and pulling.
“Fuck.” Too good. His body tightened, his legs went rigid. He was going to come, and there wasn’t a chance he’d do that anywhere else but inside her body.
“Come here.” His voice sounded gruff, almost mean, as he jackknifed up, grabbed under her arms, and hauled her up the bed.
She straddled his hips, her hands sweeping up his torso and across his chest. When she leaned over, the tips of her hair brushed over his skin. A soft yellow light flicked on. “I want to see you.”
She took him in, his eyes, mouth, shoulders. Setting her palms on his chest, she fanned out her fingers, digging into his skin. “I can’t believe I get to touch this body.”
“You get all of me, Knox. You understand? All of me.”
He didn’t like the trepidation in her eyes, but he could deal with it. They’d had a breakthrough last night. She’d let him in. Time. He just needed more time with her.
With a hand on her lower back, his hip pitched forward, knocking her over. He was glad she’d turned on the light, because he got to see the thrill in her eyes, the greedy desire that had her hands clutching his ass and jerking him to her.
Reaching between them, he gripped his cock, rubbed the slick length of her with it, and then pushed in. He fucking loved the sultry look in her eyes as he did it, the arch of her neck, the sexy gasp. Loved the way her fingers curled into his flesh.
Yeah, time. That’s what he needed.
Time to make her believe in them.
Knox slammed the nightstand drawer closed after checking it a third time. Dropping to her knees, she scanned under the bed. Fear had her heart pounding. Maybe the patio? It was the only place she hadn’t looked yet.
Please tell me I didn’t leave my sketchbook outside overnight.
The bathroom door opened, expelling whorls of steam, and then Gray strode out fully naked. Time screeched to a stop as she took him in. Smooth, tan skin covered the tightly defined muscles on his torso, and the black ink and shoulder-length wet hair made him look deliciously bad. He snatched his running shorts off the floor and stepped into them.
“Maybe you shouldn’t spend the night.”
His brow furrowed adorably. Like she’d suggested he wear her bra.
She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “You should be at the training facility by now. Your house is closer to the gym…your clothes are there…I mean, I already take up too much of your time.”
“I want to spend the night.” He sounded affronted. “So I can give you a good morning kiss.”
It still knocked her on her ass, Gray Bowie saying sweet things. “Also, you should go to a doctor, find out who’s inhabiting your body.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re this buff, brawny athlete. You talk about barrels and pipe, dropping in and triple rotations. You don’t talk about ‘good morning kisses.’” Then again…maybe he did. “Unless you’re this sweet and romantic with all the women you sleep with.”
“You’re gonna do that?”
“Do what?”
He grabbed her hips and pulled her toward him. “Reduce us to some casual hookup.”
/> “No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I was a mess last night, and this morning I can’t find my sketchbook. In other words, I’m feeling insecure.” She held out her arms. “Just give me that morning kiss so you can forget all about the dumb things I say.”
“Good, because I sacrificed clean underwear for it.”
He came at her like a man on a mission, eyes on her mouth, intention clear. Her pulse quickened—anticipation of his touch and…fear.
Fear of all the unknowns in her life right now—her career, the show, and knowing she was falling hard for a man she didn’t know how she could possibly keep.
But then he caught her around the waist and hauled her to his hot, damp body. “Gonna kiss all those doubts right out of your head.” He claimed her mouth, teased it open with his hungry tongue, and let her know just how much he wanted her.
His body went hot, his cock hard between them. Need sizzled and snapped, making her crazy to get closer, feel him deeper. Swallow me whole.
But he had to train, and she couldn’t become a problem for him. She gently eased back, giving him a few more soft kisses. “You should go. Fin’s waiting for you.”
“Yep. I should.” He grabbed his crumpled T-shirt off the bedframe. “You said you lost your sketchbook? Which one?”
“Fortunately, not the one with Callie and Delilah’s dresses. It’s the one for the next collection I’m working on. I hate that it’s gone missing. I had some really good ideas in there.”
Hands on his hips, he scanned the room. “You remember where you last saw it?”
“I take it with me everywhere, but when I come home, I always put it on the kitchen counter.” She saw the way he looked at her nightstand. “Trust me, I’ve turned this whole place upside down.”
“Could’ve been boxed up already.” They’d hired a couple ranch workers to pack up the supplies and machinery. “Want me to get the guys back? We can open them up and look through them.”
She smiled. He always made everything better just by caring so much. “I can wait until we move into the new space. I just don’t like not knowing where it is. It’s got some of my best dresses ever.”
“Must be the mountain air. Or, more likely, the spectacular sex.”
“There is something very inspiring about good sex. It really opens the creative channels.”
“Good sex?” His head popped out of the T-shirt’s neckline.
“Well, of course, it’s subjective, right? What’s spectacular for one person could just be meh for someone else.”
“Meh?”
“Sure. Think of it like a scale.” She held up her palm. “You’ve got one for I Should’ve Just Pretended to be Asleep.” She lifted the other. “All the way to eight for Holy Cow I Think I’ve Gone Blind.”
“Why does the scale stop at eight? That’s random.”
“Not everyone can hit the higher notes, you know? But I’m very happy at eight. I’m sure we’ll get there at some point. I have faith in you.”
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he bent over and rushed her, tackling her onto the mattress. “I don’t enter competitions I don’t think I can win.” Reaching under her blouse, he skimmed his rough, calloused hand up her stomach and then cupped her breast.
He had a way of touching her—filled with reverence, passion—almost a desperation—like he had to make each time count—and it made her heart flutter out of control.
“Need you naked.” He lifted the shirt, and she sat up long enough to tear it off. Then, he grabbed the waistband of her leggings and yanked them down her legs. “So I can bring all my skills to bear.” He surged against her, his hard cock grazing over her clit as he rocked his hips. Electricity lit her up with each pass. He kissed his way along her jaw to her ear, licking her lobe, all while that big hand cupped and squeezed her breast, the thumb flicking over her nipple.
“Gray.” She stirred restlessly beneath him, her hands pulling, wanting more of him. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and she ground her core against his thick erection.
He found his way back to her mouth, kissing and kissing and kissing, hungry, desperate, driving kisses that sought an answer to the one question that would finally give him peace.
She reached between them, rubbing his rock-hard erection under the nylon shorts. She tried to push him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “Still kissin’ you.”
She squeezed his hot, hard length. “Kiss me with another part of you.”
“You always have the best ideas.”
With her feet, she pushed down his shorts. That had him rolling off her and kicking them aside. Taking advantage of his position, she sat up and got a hold of his cock, taking him into her mouth and swirling her tongue around the head.
“Give you an inch…” He gasped. “And you take my whole cock.”
She burst out laughing. She loved the look in his eyes, so…delighted. It empowered her, knowing she did that to him. She wanted to do more. Wanted to see him lose himself inside her. Falling onto her back, she reached for him. “Let’s see if we can push that scale up to a nine.”
He lunged for her, one hand on her waist, the other on her cheek, angling her for his kiss. She’d barely gotten a taste, when his mouth skimmed down her neck and made a necklace of kisses along her collarbone. He cupped her breast, lowered his mouth to it, and she arched up into him when he sucked on her nipple. Her hands went to the back of his head to hold him right there.
Reaching between her legs, he parted her curls and slid a finger along her length. His thumb made slow circles on her clit, while two fingers caressed inside her. Pressing kisses down her stomach, he nudged her thighs apart with his broad shoulders and then licked inside her folds.
Her body jolted with pleasure. Fisting the sheets, her neck arched, and she closed her eyes to seal herself in the bliss of Gray’s sensual swirls and licks, the possession of his grip on her thighs, and the sensation of his soft, silky hair on her skin.
Her hips swiveled, thrust, pressed closer to his mouth. “You feel so good, Gray. So good.”
His hands slid under her ass, and he lifted her, his tongue finding her clit and flicking it in the relentless pursuit of her pleasure. Fire burned along her limbs, tension twisted and bore down on her, her senses narrowing to the euphoria of the orgasm that crashed over, shattered her, and left her totally, utterly, sated.
The front door slammed closed, and Gray sat up, listening.
“Knox?” Robert. “You here?”
Gray’s eyes squeezed closed before he shouted, “Give us a second.”
“Yeah, sure,” Robert called. “I’ll just grab some coffee.”
Gray started to get off the bed, but she didn’t like his expression. Did he think Robert would ruin this thing developing between them? She pulled him back down on top of her. “I don’t know where we’re going, you and me, but I do know I’ve never felt so whole, so safe, so…what’s the opposite of alone?”
He gripped her shoulder. “Us. We’re the opposite of alone.”
* * *
Gray only needed two minutes to wash up and dress, so he went out to greet Robert first, leaving her to pull herself together. Now, as she headed down the hallway, listening to the deep rumble of their voices, she couldn’t help wondering if they’d slip back into their old dynamic. Robert’s possessiveness, Gray’s nonchalance, and her alertness. Is he high? Does he smell like pot? Where was he last night?
She stood back, watching them drink coffee in the kitchen. Well, Robert held a mug in his hand. Gray drank water. Here we are, the three of us back in the place we spent so much time as kids. But it didn’t feel the same. Thank God.
“There she is.” Robert and all his charm.
She joined them in the kitchen. “Hey. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No worries.” Robert watched her over the mug. “Nothing wrong with sleeping in.”
Gray snickered. “Look out.”
Yeah, you’re right, look out. “I’ve been up since five, working on the
muslin for Callie’s dress. I only stopped because I can’t find my sketchbook, and it’s driving me crazy.” The patio. “Hang on a sec.” She cut around the kitchen counter and headed for the French doors, but she could already see she hadn’t left it out there.
“I’m sure one of the guys packed it with the other stuff,” Gray said.
“Probably.” But she wouldn’t be comfortable until she found it. She hated misplacing things. Drove her nuts.
“You want us to search the bunkhouse?” Robert came right up behind her. She knew it was him because of his unusual scent—almost like sweet pipe tobacco. She had no idea why his clothes had always smelled like that. “Three sets of eyes are better than one.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ve looked everywhere. It’ll turn up.”
“Water’s boiling.”
She smiled appreciatively at Gray for thinking to make her some tea, but his expression got her moving toward the kitchen. He didn’t like seeing Robert so close to her, and suddenly it was there, that uncomfortable dynamic. The competition between the men.
If Robert kept this up, she’d have to spell it out for him. Wrapping her arm around Gray’s waist, she got up on her toes and kissed his scruffy cheek. “Thank you.”
Gray tipped a chin to the long dining room table. “Why’s there a third muslin?”
“Oh, that.” She poured water into a mug, just as Gray handed her a spoon. “I’m making a second one for Callie.” She poured the honey and stirred.
“Something wrong with the first?”
“Not technically, no. I just think…I want to give her an option. The one she chose is beautiful, but…”
“Not her?” Gray asked.
“Maybe? I just think she might like this other one better.” Catching the teabag with her spoon, she lifted it out of the mug. Gray took it from her and dropped it into the garbage, setting the spoon in the sink.