by Evelyn Glass
Grayson lays his picture back down and walks around to stand in front of Adriana. “But you didn’t throw it away.” He hooks his finger underneath her chin and lifts her head up so that he can see into the green eyes with flecks of gold that shine like the sun. “Why?”
“I just couldn’t. It was nice to see your face.” Adriana bites her bottom lip and that’s what undoes him. He swoops down to her mouth, pulling her lip with his teeth and then kissing her. His body had been humming since he’d held her in his arms and having his mouth on her feels so good and so right he moans in spite of himself. He’s rock hard in his jeans; he doesn’t remember the last time that had happened just with a kiss. Of course, he does; it had been the last night he’d seen her. The Adriana Effect, he thinks.
He feels Adriana’s shock, as she remains still for a few moments before she lets herself go. Then, she delves her fingers into his curly hair, pulling him closer towards her, greedy for him. She opens her mouth to him, letting him taste her, his tongue flicking against hers. He turns her, pushing her back so that she’s caught between the counter and his body, and she arches underneath him, pushing her hips against his. Her eagerness fuels his desire. He runs his hands along her back, wanting to touch her everywhere, to feel her skin.
He summons the energy to pull his head back from hers, and the little sound of protest she makes in the back of her throat makes his hard-on throb. “Bedroom.” The word is said breathlessly. It takes a supreme force of will for him not to take her right here, but he knows that she deserves more than that. She deserves romance and tenderness and respect, and he wants to give all those things to her.
Adriana’s eyes are hooded with lust, but she seems to come to her senses once his mouth isn’t on hers anymore. “Are you sure this is what you want? That I’m what you want?” She barely breathes as she waits for his answer.
Grayson smiles tenderly at her, wondering how she can possibly question how much he needs her. She truly doesn’t understand how beautiful, how desirable, and how perfect she is, and that only makes him want her more. “Adrie,” he looks at her seriously, “I don’t even drink coffee.”
She laughs as comprehension dawns on her face, and Grayson’s heart skips a beat at the sound. If making her laugh feels this good, what’s it going to be like to be buried inside of her? The thought of that makes his already swollen cock even harder. Without hesitation, Adriana takes his hand and slips out from underneath him, his body immediately missing the contact. She leads him through the door and into her bedroom.
The bed is covered in clothes and Adriana shrugs, looking nervous again. “I had a little trouble deciding what to wear.”
Grayson smiles at the thought of her wanting to look her best for him. “You look beautiful.” He locks eyes with her. “You always do. You always did.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ADRIANA
His words bring so many emotions to the forefront that she feels like she’s being overcome by a tidal wave. All she wants right now is to turn her brain off, to stop analyzing everything, to let herself feel, and to just be with Grayson, the man who she measures all other men by.
“Kiss me.” Her words are a demand, not a request, and Grayson doesn’t need her to tell him twice.
His lips are on hers immediately, probing with his tongue, tasting her. A moan escapes her throat, as he pulls her tighter against him. She can feel how hard he is through his jeans, and the knowledge of how turned on he is just makes her more excited.
His hands slide along her sides, skimming underneath the hem of her tank top. She shivers, as he strokes the soft skin there, and she lifts her arms, signaling for him to undress her. She thinks she hears Grayson gasp as he looks down at her, but her head is so full of her own need that she can barely process what’s happening. All she knows is that she wants to be skin to skin with him, that she needs to touch him.
She’s impatient, pushing his t-shirt up over his shoulders, running her hands along the ridges of muscle and the tattoos that cover his body. Her fingers run over tiny marks on his chest and arms. They’re almost made invisible by his tattoos, but she’s seen enough scar tissue at the hospital to recognize it anywhere. She knew that his father used to beat him and his mother, but she could never have imagined how badly Grayson had been hurt. His scars tell a story, and it’s one that brings tears to her eyes.
“Gray, I’m so sorry.” She whispers the words as she touches the marks on his body one by one. She feels him stiffen under her hands.
“Don’t be. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I just want you.” His last words are a growl. He reaches for the waist of her shorts, unbuttoning as fast as he can, as if he can’t wait. She wriggles out of her pants, standing in front of him in her purple underwear. She sends a prayer of thanks up that good lingerie was something that she had always invested in; it made her feel confident, but confidence escapes her standing half-naked in front of Grayson.
“You’re so sexy.” He looks at her reverently, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
He lays her down onto the bed, not taking his eyes off of her for one moment. She squirms a little under his gaze, as she tries to convince herself that this is actually happening, that this head-spinningly gorgeous man is in her apartment, in her bed. He unzips his jeans and drops them down, his boxer shorts straining against his erection. He lies on top of her kissing her softly at first and then deeper, more possessively.
She responds without hesitation, her arms around his hard shoulders, luxuriating in the feel of him against her. He ducks his head down, feathering kisses down her neck to the curves of her breasts. He unclips her bra expertly, cupping her breast and then bending down to take her already puckered nipples into his mouth, sucking on one and then the other. Her back arches, pushing herself harder against him. As his teeth graze against her sensitive nipples, she feels an answering pull in her pussy. He’s making her so wet.
“You’re so goddam beautiful, Adriana.” Grayson’s voice is husky and full of desire as he comes face to face with her, covering her mouth with his. One hand is sifting through her dark hair, pulling it free from the band she had used to try to tame its wayward nature. The other hand travels over her breast, down over her flat belly and down, further down, to the heat between her legs.
“Gray.” His name is a plea in her voice, as she silently asks him to touch her.
He watches her, as he slides his hand into her panties, touching her swollen lips, feeling the wetness that he’s created there. He strokes her, making her squirm in pleasure underneath him. “You’re so wet, Adrie. You feel amazing.” He looks at her in awe.
Grayson probes between her thighs, parting her and sliding one digit inside and then two, making her sit up sharply, clinging to his shoulders.
“Grayson, please, I need you.” She can barely get the words out; she wants him so badly.
His eyes shine like she’s just said exactly what he wanted to hear. He tears her panties off, his muscles bunching with the effort of trying to control himself. He steps out of his boxers, staring down at her with an animalistic look in his eyes then something like realization slices through the moment.
“What?” She looks at him nervously, wondering if this is the moment when he decides that he doesn’t want to make love to her after all.
“I didn’t bring any rubbers; I didn’t exactly plan this.” He scratches his head looking rueful.
“You don’t need one.” Her response surprises even her. She’s never had sex without protection, but there’s something about Grayson that makes her want to be skin to skin with him, that doesn’t want there to be anything between them, separating them. Besides, she knew that athletes like fighters got tested all the time.
“You’re sure?” Grayson’s concern for her, to make sure that this is what she really wants is touching. Most guys wouldn’t even have bothered to double check.
“Grayson.” Her tone is impatient, as she reaches out for him, not wanting to wast
e another moment debating.
The need in her voice acts like a mirror to his own, and he lays down on top of her, supporting himself on his hands. He looks straight into her eyes, and she feels something stir in her chest, something that she couldn’t, or perhaps wouldn’t, put a name to. She reaches between them to take hold of his swollen shaft, not even slightly phased by the size of him. She wasn’t even thinking about the logistics, all she was thinking was how much she wanted him.
She guides him towards her entrance and as his tip rests against her wet pussy Grayson sucks in a breath. She looks up at him in askance. “I’m so turned on right now, but I don’t want to hurt you.” He frowns at her with that expression that makes her want to smooth the lines in his forehead.
“You won’t. I need you inside of me, Gray.” She bites her lip, hating herself a little for the desperation in her voice, but it was the truth, he was driving her crazy and she needed her release.
Grayson smiles at her sexily. “You have no idea how good it sounds to hear you say that.” He ducks down and kisses her deeply, as he pushes his hips forward, opening her up slowly, like a special present.
She breathes in sharply, as he enters her, feeling the thickness and length of him stretching her. He’s bigger than anyone she’s ever been with, not that the list is particularly long. But her body adjusts around him, slowly taking him into her, inch by inch, until he is completely buried inside. She wraps her legs around his waist, encouraging him to sink even deeper inside of her.
“God, Adriana, you’re so tight.” Grayson’s words come through gritted teeth, like he’s trying to hold himself together.
She knows the feeling; she’s lost all control of her body. It’s moving on its own volition, her hips thrusting up to meet his as he moves inside of her, moaning more wantonly than ever before. Being like this with Grayson, it’s pure pleasure, and she feels her body building towards the release that she so desperately needs.
She looks up at Grayson to see that he’s staring straight at her ,and it’s as if he knows exactly what she’s thinking, exactly what she needs him to do. He picks up the pace, ramming into her and angling her so that he’s hitting her g-spot again and again. She squeezes the muscles in his back, rigid with force and slick with sweat.
They’re both breathing hard, as Adriana feels the rush of heat throughout her body. “Gray, I’m close.” Her words are a whisper, as she feels herself start to ride the wave of her orgasm. She cries out as she comes hard, feeling like she’s been split into a million pieces. Gray’s voice echoes hers, as he growls to his shuddering finish, clutching her to him as he empties himself inside of her.
“Adrie.” He says her name with so much tenderness she feels like she’s melting and in very real danger of falling…No, she can’t say it, not even to herself, not when there was so much still to figure out.
When he slips out of her, she feels instantly empty, like she hadn’t known what it was to feel whole until the moment he was inside of her. He lies next to her, nuzzling her neck and whispering in her ear. She can barely make out what he’s saying; she’s still stuck on Cloud 9 where he’d taken her.
“Hmmm?” She turns to him sleepily satisfied.
“I said that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Adrie. I said that I missed you.” Grayson looks her straight in the eyes.
“I thought you’d forgotten about me.” Her voice is small and half-asleep, as she cuddles up to him.
Grayson puts his arm around her, pulling her closer to him so she lays her head on his chest. They lie in contented silence, and Adriana listens to his heart beating, lulling her into sleep. She closes her eyes, but just before she drifts off she hears him whisper in her ear, “I could no more have forgotten about you than I could forget to breathe.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
GRAYSON
The feel of Adriana against him is what he thinks Heaven must feel like. He sifts his fingers through her dark hair; it feels just like he had imagined it would, like silk. This sense of peace, of calm, he hadn’t experienced it in such a long time, he’d almost forgotten what it was like. Being with her quieted all the fears, doubts, all the memories in his mind. He had never been able to talk to anyone like he could to her; it was like she understood him, even when he didn’t say anything.
When she had touched his scars, it was like she was taking the pain away, tuning out the memories that always sat just over his shoulder, infiltrating everything he did, everything he was. She made him feel less broken. She awoke all kinds of emotions in him; he wanted to keep her safe, to protect her from anything that might hurt her or cause her pain. One of those things would be you, genius, his brain reminds him uncharitably. Not this time, he swears to himself, not this time. He thinks back to Willow’s question that morning, Do you believe in soulmates, Grayson? He was starting to.
His cell vibrates from inside his jeans somewhere at the foot of the bed. He doesn’t get up; he’s not in any hurry to move; and, he doesn’t want to wake Adriana, she’s only just fallen asleep. But it starts ringing again almost as soon as it’s stopped. He flicks a glance of annoyance at the time on the clock radio, it’s still early, and the sun’s only just set. It could be West setting up a time for training in the morning.
Reluctantly, he slips out from underneath Adriana, careful not to disturb her and digs in the pocket of his jeans to find his cell. He answers without even looking at the screen, padding quietly into Adriana’s kitchen so his voice doesn’t wake her.
“It doesn’t look like you’re busy training, kid.” The voice on the other end of the line makes Grayson’s blood run cold, as does the nickname that’s a reminder of a night he only wants to forget.
“How did you get this number?” Grayson had always been careful about who he gave his cell number to, and he changed it every six months just to be sure. Only a handful of people should have it.
“You shouldn’t be worried about that. What you should be worried about is winning your match next week, and your little extra-curricular isn’t going to help to keep you focused, is it, kid?” Morrison’s tone could be mistaken for solicitous or even kind, if you didn’t know him. But Grayson knew him better than most, and he knew that the bookie was neither of those things.
“Don’t call me that.” He hates the reminder that Morrison always crowbars into their communications. It’s his way of not-so-subtly telling Grayson that he knows about his past, he knows what happened in the ring that night and a word from him could ruin all of Grayson’s chances at going straight. “What do you want, Morrison?”
“I want you to be in the best shape of your life. You’re going to need to be to fight Kong. That means no nookie my horny young friend.” The bookie chuckles to himself.
“What? You’re having me followed? What the fuck, Morrison? What does my private life have anything to do with you?” Grayson clenches and unclenches his fist, trying to get his anger under control. “It’s never been an issue for you before.
“That was then, kid, this is now. You bring your A game to the fight or the deal’s off. And from the moony way you’ve been looking at that piece of tail you’re with, your mind is not where it needs to be.” Morrison lets out a sigh as if he’s disappointed in Grayson.
“You let me worry about where my mind is. If that’s all you called to say…” He feels the old hate for this man bubble up to the surface.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t want her to find out about a certain underground fight that you were involved in. I bet a nice girl like her would be horrified.” Morrison’s tone is bored.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Grayson’s voice would cut glass.
“Try me. You cut her loose, focus on the match, and I don’t tell her who you really are.” The threat in Morrison’s voice is clear; there’s no mistaking it now.
“Why are you doing this? Why now?” Grayson grips the cell hard, resisting the urge to throw it to the floor and destroy it.
“Why does anyone do an
ything? Because I can, kid.” Morrison ends the call, typically needing to have the last word.
Grayson cradles the cell in his hand, cursing Morrison in every way he can think of. He had always had a way of corrupting anything good that came Grayson’s way. But this is one step too far. He can’t give up Adriana, not again, not just because of Morrison’s control-freakery. But he knows that Morrison doesn’t make idle threats; he never has. There’s no doubt in Grayson’s mind that if he doesn’t do what he’s been told that Adriana will find out the reason he had to walk away from her…that he’d killed a man.
Perhaps she would understand, if he could explain to her that it was an accident. But even if she did, he was afraid that she’d never look at him in the same way again and that would be worse than not seeing her, knowing that she thought of him as a killer. He’d known that getting involved with Adriana could be dangerous, that he was involving her in the mess he’d made of his past. It was Grayson who had put Adriana on Morrison’s radar; he’d brought this on himself.
There is only one decision to make, no matter how much it hurt him and no matter how much she will hate him for it. However, that was preferable to something happening to her. He couldn’t have that on his conscience. Grayson stands in the kitchen for a few more minutes, working up the courage to do what he knows he has to.