by Caila Jaynes
“Maybe it was easier for her to express her feelings in a letter.”
Grayson considered that. He and his mother had been close and he’d loved her, but he’d always kept a slight emotional distance from her, just like he had from everyone else. His aversion to loss, his fear of being hurt again as he had been after his father’s death, had dictated the shallow depth of his relationships for as long as he could remember.
“I’m so sorry,” Claire whispered.
When she shifted closer and leaned against his chest, Grayson closed his eyes. Her compassion was going to be his undoing. He shouldn’t be taking comfort from her, but what else was he supposed to do when it felt so good, so right?
He opened his eyes and dropped his gaze to her lips. Bad move. Now all he wanted to do was taste them.
Move away before it’s too late.
But he couldn’t. His arms and legs wouldn’t cooperate. And his hands—they seemed to have a will of their own. They threaded through Claire’s hair, angling her face upward.
His mouth met lips just as soft and warm as he’d imagined. Desire shot through him, jolting him with its intensity.
Does she even want this?
When Grayson forced himself to pull back, Claire let out a groan of protest.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was completely unprof—”
But before he could finish, Claire was kissing him.
This time, Grayson grabbed her wrists as he leaned back. “We can’t.” He released her and stood. “I’ll be in the guest room.”
“Wait.” Claire’s eyes were wide with confusion as she rose from the couch. “You weren’t doing anything I didn’t want you to do.”
Not wanting to meet her gaze, Grayson focused on the delicate dip at the base of her throat. Why couldn’t she make this easier? Why couldn’t she be mad at him again?
I need to call Alex back. Ask him to stay after all.
“Please, Grayson.”
He looked into her eyes. If the softly spoken plea wasn’t enough to convince him, her look of yearning was. She reached out her hand and Grayson had no choice but to take it.
Claire’s delicate fingers wrapped around his as she led the way down the hall. Even after they entered her bedroom, Grayson tried to come up with the words that would put a stop to this, but his desire for her overpowered any kind of logic.
In the center of the room, she turned toward him and reached for the hem of her soft sweater. As she slowly pulled it over her head, Grayson’s gaze homed in on the swell of her breasts underneath the lacy fabric of her bra.
Christ. She’s so perfect.
His libido kicked in, pushing aside any hope of rational thought. What would it be like to accept what she was offering, to bury himself in her body and let go for once?
Unable to stop himself, Grayson moved forward, placing his hands on her hips and gently urging Claire backward until the back of her knees met the bed.
Chapter Fifty
Claire looked into Grayson’s eyes as he urged her to lie back. When he moved over her, his gaze held hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
Whatever she could do tonight to please him, to comfort him, she would. He’d been through so much. She ran a finger down his chest and was rewarded with a low groan.
“Claire . . .” His fingers plunged into her hair and his mouth came down over hers.
Grayson’s kiss was fierce and demanding at first. When she responded, opening her mouth to his, he slowed down for a moment, tasting her, exploring her.
Desperate to touch him, Claire moved a hand between them, cupping his hardness. He let out a hiss before moving off the bed to kick off his boots and socks, then shed his Henley and jeans.
Claire rose onto her knees, her breaths coming quicker. She unbuttoned her own jeans, struggling slightly to remove them while still on the bed.
“You’re so beautiful.” Grayson’s voice was low and husky.
Claire unclasped her bra and let it fall, her cheeks warming when Grayson’s gaze traveled down from her face. Pushing aside her embarrassment, she pulled in a breath and took in his form as she lay back on the bed.
His clothes had only hinted at the muscle and sinew beneath. Seeing him nearly naked was another matter. Grayson was all power . . . one-hundred percent brawn. Her heart pounded like a drum as he removed his boxer briefs, black cotton knit that had clung to his groin, teasing her imagination. When he was completely bared to her, so hard and ready, obviously wanting her, she sucked in a breath in anticipation of what was to come.
Grayson sat next to her and leaned close, slowly stroking her exposed skin. When he palmed her stomach, she clenched those muscles, lifting her hips slightly in invitation. His hand dipped lower, drawing teasing trails across her skin and then over her panties. When his fingers slipped underneath, her cheeks burned. Could he tell how wet she was, how much she wanted him too?
She clutched at the sheets as his thumb found her, circling gently over that bundle of nerves that screamed for more. Wait . . . this was supposed to be about him. When had it become about her?
“Gray . . .”
He didn’t acknowledge the halfhearted protest, just kept stroking, exploring.
By the time he pulled her panties off, Claire’s embarrassment melted away . . . along with every single thought in her head.
Closer and closer, Grayson drew her to the edge. She teetered there for what seemed like forever. While she craved release, at the same time she didn’t want the sensations he was creating to end. Every nerve ending in her body thrummed with anticipation. She’d never known such pleasure before, not even with Gabe in the beginning.
When Grayson leaned forward and traced the tip of his tongue over her breast, increasing the pressure of his fingers at the same time, Claire no longer had a choice. Every muscle in her body contracted in unison, sending bolts of pure pleasure shooting outward. Her back arched as she reveled in the sensations with a small cry.
His gaze was liquid heat when, still panting, she opened her eyes. As her ragged breaths slowed, she reached out, circling a hand around him. “Your turn.”
Grayson’s eyes squeezed shut. He let out a breath and moved back, picking up his jeans and retrieving a condom from his wallet.
Breathless, Claire watched as he unwrapped it. Tingles spread through her body as he rolled it on, his hungry gaze fixed on her.
When he knelt on the bed and crawled over her, covering her body with his delicious weight, she drew her knees higher, clasping his hips between them. A fluttering sensation swept through her stomach, and she drew a sharp breath as he pressed the tip of himself against her.
Claire lifted her head and caught his lower lip between her teeth, sucking on it gently. He groaned, a low rumble she could feel against her chest, then angled his mouth over hers, kissing her deeply. Pushing his hips forward a bit, he teased her, pressing in just enough to tempt . . . then drew back, making her whimper against his mouth.
She’d wanted this so much for days now, this closeness with Grayson, to feel his skin slide along hers, his scent enveloping her. When he bent over to draw one nipple in his mouth, making it contract into a hard bud, she buried her nose in his hair, breathing him in.
Over and over, he eased a short way into her warmth, but then was gone before she could even enjoy the fullness. She lifted her hips, trying to meet him, needing him to fill her completely, but he drew back, teasing her again as he moved his lips to her neck.
Claire turned her head, lifting her chin to give him more access, stretching her body beneath his as he drew the tip of his tongue in a blazing trail to her ear. Propped on his forearms, he pressed his warm lips against her temple, then ran his nose along her hairline and breathed deeply.
He was so warm beneath her hands, the muscles of his back so smooth and hard as she explored him. Greedy for the feel of him, she trailed her fingers over his shoulders, then ran one down his spine, feeling every ridge and valley of his vertebrae until she rea
ched his butt. The muscles there tensed as he drew in a breath and then pushed himself deeper within her.
Finally, inch by inch, he filled her. As Grayson began to thrust, Claire ran her nails down his back. Desire coiled low within her again. Desperate, she bucked against him, needing more. Her body clenched around him and she sucked in a breath, shuddering as another orgasm slammed into her.
“Claire . . .” He let out a groan and pumped his hips faster.
Emotion welled inside her when his breath caught minutes later. His eyes closed and his expression was fierce as he stilled. A shiver wracked his body and he pulled in a deep breath, opening his eyes and baring his soul.
This moment of vulnerability—he’d allowed it to happen with her. A warm shimmer of joy spread through her at the thought.
As she let out a happy sigh, he leaned back on an elbow and studied her. “Are you okay?”
Smiling, she nodded.
He rose to take care of the condom, and Claire snuggled against him once he came back to bed and drew her close. This had been . . . incredible. She’d never imagined that it was possible to feel something like this.
Resting a hand on his bare chest, she looked up at Grayson. There was so much she didn’t know about him, and more than anything, she wanted that to change.
Snuggling closer, she said, “You don’t like relying on anyone, do you.”
“No. I guess I don’t.” He rested a hand over hers, pressing it to his heart. “You weren’t too far off the mark with your complaints about me. What you saw at the safe house is my basic personality.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” She shook her head. “I was just upset.”
“I noticed.” Grayson’s lips curved up. “I wasn’t exactly your favorite person.”
Claire raised an eyebrow at him. “You really pissed me off.”
“I’m sorry for that.” He leaned closer to give her a soft kiss. “And I want you to know something. I would have gone back for my dog too.”
She smiled, elated at the admission. Wanting to know more about him, she asked, “What assignment do you remember the most?”
“My first.”
When he didn’t offer more, she cast about for a new topic. “Are your parents divorced?”
Grayson stiffened, and his arm tightened around her. “My father died when I was young.”
“Do you remember him?”
“Bits and pieces. Mostly I remember outings—him taking me to the zoo, fishing at the lake.”
“Good memories,” she whispered.
“They are.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
Grayson stiffened slightly before drawing in a deep breath. “I don’t normally open up, Claire. It’s just not me.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple and she relaxed again as he rested his chin on the top of her head. A moment later, his breath ruffled her hair as he asked, “How did you end up with Gabe?”
The mention of Gabe made her blood run cold. She stiffened slightly but realized clamming up now would be unfair. Grayson had shared, and she should too.
“It was my mother who met him first at a party. I was there that night and she introduced us.”
“How long were you with him?”
“A year.” But I never felt for him what I’m feeling for you.
Uncomfortable with talking about Gabe while lying in Grayson’s arms, she changed the subject. “I’m in law school because it’s what my parents wanted for me. I don’t hate it, but I don’t love it either.”
Grayson lifted his head and studied her. “What would you rather be doing?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve been so focused on getting through the program that I haven’t given it much thought.”
A comfortable silence fell between them until Grayson looked down and whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Making me feel better.”
“I hope I did.”
“You absolutely did.” He looked down at her. “And I don’t mean the sex, although that was pretty damn good too.”
Happiness filled Claire as she closed her eyes, sliding one leg over his and scooting in even closer. Grayson’s breathing slowed and his body relaxed, and soon sleep took them both.
Chapter Fifty-One
Light streamed into the bedroom as Grayson blinked his eyes open.
What’s that noise?
The warm breath hitting his cheek wasn’t coming from Claire. He knew that much from the smell.
He looked at Claire’s beautiful face and then turned his head. The noise he’d been hearing was coming from Charlie. The dog was lying on his back with his paws in the air and looking at Grayson expectantly.
Grayson reached out and scratched the dog’s stomach before glancing at the clock.
Eight a.m.?
He did a double-take, unable to remember the last time he’d slept for more than five hours, let alone eight. He moved his gaze back to Claire and the reason became clear. She relaxed him. Being with her tamed the incessant thoughts normally swirling around inside his head.
Charlie let out a low whine, making it clear that the affection Grayson had given him wasn’t enough.
Careful, bud. You’re going to wake up Claire.
He shushed the dog quietly and moved off the bed, expecting Charlie to follow. Instead, the dog whined again.
Claire blinked her eyes open and stretched out her arms, laughing as Charlie scooted closer and began licking her face. Looking up at Grayson, she said softly, “Hey.”
“I didn’t want him to wake you. I was trying to take him into the other room.”
“That’s okay. I need to get up, anyway.” She patted the dog’s head, murmuring that she loved him before throwing back the covers and rising.
Guilt stabbed at Grayson as he watched her move naked across the room. What had he been thinking, taking advantage of her like that last night? It had been unprofessional. And wrong. His grief was no excuse.
Sadness gutted him at the realization that he shouldn’t continue as Claire’s bodyguard. There was no way he could be effective if he was involved with her emotionally. He had no choice but to call Alex back in.
He snagged his jeans off the floor and struggled to get a handle on his emotions.
“What’s wrong, Gray?” Claire asked, belting a white silk robe around herself as she stood frowning at him.
“Nothing.”
As he picked up his shirt from the floor, the look on her face morphed to suspicion.
“You’re regretting last night, aren’t you?”
Damn it. “I am, but not in the way you think.”
Her brow creased, she glanced toward the bed. “What happened while I was asleep?”
“I came to my senses, that’s what happened. I can’t be doing this.” Grayson hardened his resolve, forcing his gaze away from the hurt look on her face. “I can’t be in a relationship. Not with my job. It’s—”
“Don’t do that,” she cried out.
“Don’t do what?”
“Dismiss this.” She gestured between them before putting her hands on her hips. “I find it hard to believe that no one on your team is in a relationship.”
“The failure rate’s pretty high, I promise you.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. Things were tanking here, not that he should be surprised.
Claire’s face reddened as she stared at him, then she whirled and rushed into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind her.
Grayson closed his eyes. He’d done what he had to. There could be no regrets.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Claire braced a hand against the bathroom sink as she looked into the mirror. Why had Grayson done that? He’d plowed through everything, ruining in seconds all the headway they’d made the night before.
Trying to calm herself, she took in a deep breath. She’d take a shower and collect herself, then confront him rationally.
But when
she walked into the living area a short while later, it wasn’t Grayson drinking coffee at her dining room table. It was Alex.
Her heart sank. “Gray left?”
Alex shifted in his seat, not meeting her eyes. “He asked me to say good-bye for him.”
Grayson wasn’t coming back; Claire knew it instantly. And the amount of pain that realization brought on took her breath away.
It felt as if her insides had gone through a shredder. She’d just begun to understand what true passion was, and now her world had tilted again.
Needing to calm herself, Claire turned back to her bedroom and changed into her running clothes. With Halloween only a couple of weeks away, the temperature had dropped, and she tugged on sweatpants instead of shorts, and a long-sleeved T-shirt.
As she sat on her bed and laced up her shoes, tears slid down her cheeks. Furious at herself, she wiped them away, then called out to Alex.
“Want to run a few miles with me?”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Gasping, Grayson came awake with a start Monday morning, his chest heaving as he reoriented himself.
A dream. It’s just a dream.
Ever since he’d left Claire’s condo four days ago, the insomnia had returned. What little sleep he did get was plagued by nightmares, usually the same one he’d had since he was young. In the dream, he and his mother had just stepped off the front porch of their house when their world came apart.
His mother’s house in Scranton was the second house Grayson lived in; their first home had been destroyed in a gas-line explosion. Grayson and his mother had survived the accident with only bruises and scratches—lucky, everyone had said—but his father hadn’t been so fortunate. He’d been inside the house and didn’t survive the fire.
When Claire had asked him about his father the other night, Grayson wanted to tell her everything, tell her about the insomnia and the fear he’d always had of getting too close to people.
He should have been honest with her, gotten it all off his chest, but it wasn’t his nature to be so vulnerable with someone. And since he didn’t tell her—had pulled away from her like he always did—his chance was gone.