But now that I am outside of the gym, I’m not so sure I should go through with this. I mean, his friends could still be in there and I’d end up embarrassing myself. Or he could just look at me and see through my BS. I much rather the latter, though that would suck. I don’t want anyone seeing me exposed like that. Especially not his friends. I could lie and tell Jaimie that he wasn’t here when I arrived, so I won’t have to be the brunt of this ridiculous stunt going awry.
I feel incredibly exposed when a group of guys walk past and whistle at me. I turn a bright red shade and slink into the gym. There’s no going back now. I can’t go back out because I’ve really been spotted. And I do not trust myself being out there dressed in nothing but this. Why can’t they make lingerie more conservative? I’d love a pair of lace khakis or taller garments. I cross my arms tightly and feel my heart beating rapidly on the tip of my tongue. The lights are off with the exception of one dim light above my head.
I am hoping he’s alone now, because I don’t think anyone is here. And he hasn’t told me if he left or not. He is most likely in the private boxing area in the back. As I walk, I cast nervous glances around. Wearing this thing makes me feel vulnerable, like someone will jump out of the shadows at any moment. What if this doesn’t work? Okay, it may not work with the whole control thing. But once he sees me in this, well, the sex thing will most definitely work.
I call Grey as I reach the back. I hear his phone ringing, or a phone, and listen to it stop abruptly. Did he just ignore my call? Well, sex is certainly out of the question. I text him, asking where he is, and listen to the ding on his phone. I wait a few seconds for a reply. My phone vibrates, and I read the text, feeling stupid for being here like this when he is blatantly lying to me.
Grey: Went out to dinner w the guys. B home soon.
“Dinner, my ass,” I whisper angrily and twist the door knob. Slowly, I push it open, thanking the Lord it doesn’t make a creak revealing my presence. I inch it forward a couple of inches and stick my head in. I gasp, and my eyes widen. There are a group of burly men half-surrounding a man tied in a chair. His face is a mess of blood and bruises. And the man in front of him is the cause of it all.
“Grey,” I whisper, then smack my hand over my mouth before backing out. Thankfully their backs are turned to me. Heart in my stomach, I softly shut the door and run to the front, feeling as though I’m going to throw up. I do not know the man in that room. What I just witnessed was a beast torturing prey, and I am questioning everything.
***
I am at a loss for words, but my thoughts are running rampant with a few emotions. Anger, confusion, and worry are the highlights. I’m pissed off he’d lie to me. It wasn’t just a little white lie; it was a huge one that could have him arrested. And I wouldn’t be able to just bail him out so easily this time around. I am beyond confused because, well, why would he beat a man half to death in the gym? Maybe because David is close to the owner and he snagged the keys to the place for after dark? I think it’s quite clear why I am deathly worried, because he’s getting too close to this dang gang and is doing a violent act for them, for him. Dean. Grey was right when he said he was a dangerous man. And such an asshole.
I am not going to let Grey stay in this damned gang. He doesn’t need to be in it, nor should he be in the first place. There are no benefits—none that are legal, anyway. He said he’s in too deep and that Dean is too unpredictable to cross, but he won’t be crossing him. I would. I should be frightened for even thinking of doing that, but Grey’s safety outweighs everything.
The guy may be intimidating and scarier than the Boogieman himself, but he’s nothing but an obstacle in the way of my future with Grey, whether we are actually a couple or not. I would do anything to protect him. I am too deep in love with him, and I will ruin anyone who gets in the way of that. Grey can go on and on about him being his own person and such, but we are something, and it is enough for me to try and help him. Getting him out of this damned gang will surely help, trust me.
I wait up for what feels like hours. And maybe it has been. I sit on the bed, still in my crazy outfit and heels, eyes glued to the door, waiting for him to walk through it. I chew so hard on my bottom lip I taste blood. My worry grows with each minute he doesn’t enter the room. I texted him that I am worried about him, but he didn’t reply. That was half an hour ago. He must think I’ve fallen asleep after texting that, seeing that it is now one in the morning. If he really thinks that, then he’s either lost his mind or doesn't know me at all.
After a while I decide to make some coffee to keep me up. The black coffee zaps me with much-needed energy. I have about two cups and find myself laying on the couch in the living room watching a reality TV show about the Kardashians. I don’t keep up with social media that much or know a lot of celebrities, but my gosh, they have gigantic butts. Is that a thing these days? Plastic shoved into your butts so you have extra cushion when you sit down? I sound like a clueless old lady. That is excluding the skimpy lingerie, trench coat, and heels. But throw me a robe and some glasses and I’m your insane cat lady.
The youngest Jenner is talking about one of her skinny dogs when I hear the front door open and the jingle of keys. I stiffen, thinking it’s a burglar, and briefly contemplate about going for the gun. But then I think the probability of me getting to the gun and shooting the man is low, while shooting myself is way higher. I have never held a gun in my life, nor do I know how to use one. Plus, I have a tingling sensation in my stomach, AKA my Grey radar is going off.
I get up, finally toeing off the heels. They were killing my feet for so long. I walk over to the foyer and stand at the end of it, arms crossed. I watch as Grey carefully closes the door to keep from waking me. I’m already up and worrying myself out! He lets out a breath of relief once it’s shut, then turns around.
“Fuck!” He jumps. “What are you doing up so late? And what the hell are you wearing?” He gives me a weirded-out once over as he unties his boots.
“I think I should be asking the questions, don’t you?” I step forward and poke his shoulder when he stands straight.
“Um…sure?” He scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion. Just hold on, buddy, I am about to enlighten you.
“Let’s start with: Why did you lie to me?” I cock my head to the side and give my best Don’t fuck with me look. He snorts and bypasses me, clearly not impressed.
“When did I lie?” he asks as he enters the kitchen and throws open the fridge.
“Earlier. You said you went out to dinner with the guys…”
“And?” He shrugs as he kicks the door shut, biting into a sandwich he stored away.
“And you’re chowing through that like you haven’t eaten all day.” He stops, caught. “Weird, right? I would have thought you’d be super full after beating a guy’s face in,” I spit out, unable to hold it back any longer.
He shifts on his feet, eyes thinning as he looks me square in the eyes. “I’m a fighter, Olivia. It’s what I do,” he says, voice low and demeanor so icy cold it leaves me shivering. He rolls his eyes at me and tosses the sandwich in the garbage, unable to stomach his lies anymore, probably. Too damn bad, I am force feeding them whether he likes it or not.
“I don’t mean your training, and you know it.” I chase after him into the hallway but nearly bump into him when he suddenly spins on his feet.
“What do I know, Olivia?” he growls, balling his hands into fists.
“You know that you’re Dean’s bitch,” I snap and push against him. I don’t like how he’s towering over me. I have control; I am still wearing this god damn lingerie! “I know that you were beating up a tied man at Dean’s will! I know that you are so fucking stupid for getting caught up in the gang. And I know that I will not allow it—”
He grabs my accusing finger and presses me into the wall. “You can’t boss me around, first of all. And what the fuck were you doing at the gym?”
“I was coming for you, to make sure you w
ere okay. Because you weren’t being straight with me,” I answer him, and he groans dramatically. “Listen, I understand that you are able to make your own decisions. I do. But what I don’t understand is why you aren’t fighting to get out of his control. You have a freaking gun for protection, for goodness’ sake. You shouldn't need it all!”
“Stop that!” He grips his hair and drags his hands down his face, like he’s losing his mind.
“Stop what?” I throw up my hands.
“That!” He points at me. “Acting like you know what’s best for me.”
“Because I do know what's best for you!”
“No, you don’t!”
“I care for you, Grey,” I cut him off and try to drill it in his head. “Do you expect me to just step back and watch you throw your life away?”
“I’m not throwing anything away!” he argues.
“Then what do you call being in a fucking gang?” I question with a raised voice.
“None of your fucking business!” he screams, and I tug at my own hair. He’s making me lose my mind. I just care so fucking much it is driving me nuts. But going bonkers for him is tolerable. It is expected, because he is the most complex creature on this planet. However, he wouldn’t be him without the complexity or the frustration. God, so much frustration.
“Fine! Then fucking go and beat people tied to chairs, sell drugs, be his bitch—I don't care anymore!” I just snap because this is too much. You really can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. I raise my arms and wave them wildly, going on and on about how much I am done with him. But the entire time, his eyes are on my chest and raking my body.
“What the hell are you wearing?” His voice is thick with lust.
“N-nothing,” I stutter and quickly close the trench coat.
“This is not nothing,” he says and tugs at the coat.
“Will you pay attention?” I slap his hand away.
He raises his lust-heavy eyes to mine and gapes. “How the fuck can I when you're wearing…this?”
“Jesus…” I rub my face some more, screaming on the inside. Why did I fall in love with a man who has such a short attention span at the worst possible times, when we are talking about him ruining his life? I push off the wall and storm into the room, throwing off the trench coat. “I am absolutely done trying to talk some sense into you, Grey. You are on your—what are you doing?” I screech when I am tackled to the bed.
He flips me over, pins my hands above my head, and pushes his legs between mine, leaving me open and exposed to his wandering eyes. “This is…Jesus Christ, Liv.” I gasp and move around as I feel his true reaction down south press into my abdomen as he bends down. “You are so fucking sexy, it kills me and makes me feel insanely alive. You make me mad, you know that, don’t you?” he whispers haughtily against my ear, licking my earlobe. I shiver and moan his name.
“You’re the one who drives me fucking bonkers,” I breathe out, my voice raspier than usual. Whoa.
“Fuck the bonkers, I’ll fuck you.” He tugs at the lacy garter then squeezes my thigh. “White, huh? Lady-time must be over.” I feel his teasing smirk as he lightly kisses my neck. I instinctually put my head to the side so he has more range. I pull at his black shirt, and he removes his lips enough so the shirt comes off. I throw it away and grip his hair with one hand while dragging my nails up his back with the other.
“Why did you lie to me?” I try to speak through the desire taking over my body.
“Shhh.” He grips one of my breasts. I gasp and arch my back. He smirks in approval. “So responsive…I don’t know if I want this off or on. You just look so…fuck.” His erection digs into my stomach, and I hiss, tugging his hair. I arch my back some more, and his smirk grows inches. “Princesa says off.” He reaches under me and unclasps the bra. I hold out my arms, and he tugs it off and throws it somewhere.
“Grey!” I moan in sexual relief when his mouth clasps around my right breast, while he toys with the other. I hold his head down and swallow the nervous lump in my throat. The throbbing between my legs is insane. I reach down and hoist his hip up. He holds himself up, and I moan over and over as I unbutton and unzip his pants. I tug them, and his boxers, down his feet until I hear them hit the floor. I push against his shoulder and straddle his hips, pushing him down.
Control. Remember that’s what this whole thing is about, I remind myself.
“You are going to get out of that gang,” I tell him, and he looks surprised, his eyes finally on mine and not roaming my body with need.
“What? No. I already told you, it’s hard cutting ties with him.” He doesn’t sound like he’s here. He is too busy examining my body. Again, I feel sexy even if I am just wearing the bottom part now. “You are too sexy for you own good,” he groans animalistically, hands grabbing my thighs and going up to my stomach. He can’t even talk to me correctly, he’s distracted…but maybe I can use this to my advantage…
“Oh, am I?” I bat my eyelashes, and he hardens under me and grips me tighter.
“Don’t fucking do that,” he warns, and I pout, tilting my head.
“Do what?” I innocently, accidentally rub myself on his erect member.
“Oh, fuck me…” He throws his head back, eyes shut in pleasure.
“No,” I say firmly. His eyes snap open, and he looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Why the fuck not? You can’t dress like this, do the whole innocent shit, and say no,” he exclaims, and I giggle. His eyes widen as his member brushes against my sex. Shit, this is going to be harder than I thought, the whole seducing and manipulating thing.
“Oh, yes I can…” I trail in a sing-song tune, holding in a moan as I shift down and get on my knees, back arched. His eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head. I kiss the head of his dick and smirk when it twitches slightly, and he curses heavily, voice thick. “But I will fuck you…if you promise you’re going to leave the gang.”
“I told you—oh, fuck you!” He cries out when I roll my tongue around him. “Oooh, just you fucking wait!” He wags a finger at me, and I genuinely giggle but add in the little bat of my eyelashes.
“You’ll get what you want if you promise to leave the fucking gang.” My voice loses its innocence, and I cock my head to the side, waiting for his response.
His cheeks look sunken as he purses his lips and glares at me, in deep thought. He is weighing his options: stay in the gang and don’t have sex with me or promise to leave and get what he—and I—obviously wants.
“Fine,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes.
“Sorry? What was that?” I tease, cupping a hand behind my ear.
“Fuck you,” he hisses.
“As you wish, babe.” I wink at him, and he grows pale for a second. It’s empowering how I can make him this distressed.
My lips twitch into a smirk as I take him into my mouth as much as possible. I lick and bob my head up and down, feeling him twitch and hearing him curse above me. I pull my mouth off. He doesn’t deserve much more of that. He’s been an ass to me for a very long time. He is lucky he’s getting me at all tonight.
He watches me with desperation before I turn around and pull open the nightstand. I bypass the gun and pull out a condom from the boxed set he has. I turn back around, tear it open, and roll it onto him. I unclip my garter and watch him from under my eyelashes as he eyes me taking off the lacy material. I nudge my hips from side to side as I slide it down my thighs.
“I am going to fuck you so hard.” He licks his lips. I barely have the thing kicked off when he grabs my hips and pins me to the bed. He maneuvers me around so I am facing the pillows and am on my stomach. I’m confused because we have never done it this way—if it is a way—before. “New position, babe. This is for fucking teasing me so god damn much.” He grabs a fistful of my hair and pushes my back down before slamming into my sex from behind.
“Oh my God!” I cry out and grip the sheets. I…fucking shit, that felt amazing. This feels am
azing! I giggle as I roll my hips, and he makes a crying sound. I laugh and bite my lip, letting him grip my hair as he begins to pound into me. Why have we never tried it this way before? It feels a little weird, but I feel like he’s hitting the perfect angle in the most delicious way. “This is…wow.”
“Yeah? You like the way I fuck your tight little pussy? Fucking minx,” he murmurs, and I burn at his words. I nod in response and scream out when he digs his hands into my butt, kneading the tender flesh. “You feel so fucking good, so tight, and so fucking mine.” He chuckles, and I imagine the dimples in his scruffy cheeks. I want to poke my fingers in them, but at the moment, I really want to tug at his hair like I usually do. It’s hard not to be able to in this position, but I can deal with it with how fantastic it feels.
“All yours, Grey,” I promise with a sigh, rocking my hips against him. I feel as though I can feel every inch of him plowing into me. I love the pleasure rolling through me in waves and the pain from his deadly grip on me, but the mixture has me tearing up and screaming his name. “Faster, please. Please—ah!” I grip the sheets until my fingers turn white and I see the back of my head.
Seconds turn into minutes, and minutes turn into hours, then into the eternity of forever as he claims me with passion and need. I clench around him and moan his name, biting into my lip to keep from screaming his name loud enough for the entire universe to hear. He is a black star hellbent on filling me with darkness, leaving me with nothing but the memory of this indescribable pleasure.
“Promise me you’ll be safe,” I breathe, rolling my head to relieve the tension building up in my bones.
“I’m wearing a condom, babe,” he replies.
“I mean with Dean, the gang—”
Grey: The Reconnection (Spectrum Series Book 4) Page 21