“Okay? Is that it? Why are you still sleeping in here then?” He sounds annoyed.
I sit up and face him, annoyed myself. “Because you’ve been nothing but an ass to me lately. You keep telling me how you don’t want to lose me, but you keep things from me. You know you can talk to me. Just like you did just now.”
“So, what, I was just supposed to tell you my old gang leader wanted me back?”
“Yes.” I nod my head, and he scoffs. “I’m serious, Grey. I’d be shocked, but then I would ease into it, and we could then talk about it. Like a regular couple.”
“Yeah, I’m sure boyfriends talk about their experiences in a fucking gang.” He plops down on the bed at my feet, and I roll my eyes and wiggle my toes under his butt. He smiles at me, and I lean my chin on my raised knees and smile back.
“Some, maybe,” I say. “But I don’t even care about your past that much.”
“Sure you don’t,” he teases, and I nod my head and scoot up next to him.
“I really don’t,” I admit, and he looks at me funnily. “I’m serious. As long as it doesn’t mess with us, that is.”
“But it has, on multiple occasions.”
“Then let’s focus on the future.”
“How do you suggest we do that?”
“Let’s make a pact to ignore calls from mysterious characters named D, ignore annoying redheads—especially the one who’s a much greater target than a punching bag.” He snickers, and I bite on my inner cheek, repressing a laugh. “And most importantly…look ahead and not behind. Deal?” I hold my hand out.
He looks at my hand as if he’s going to laugh at it, but he smacks his palm against mine and we shake firmly. “Deal. Now, can we please quickly backtrack to the part when you socked Diana in the face?” His eye corners crinkle up like waves that never come crashing down, and his nose turns upright, his cheeks swimming with crimson.
“Oh my God.” I let my hair fall around my knees and face, hiding from his gaze. “Do not remind me. I feel horrible.”
He pulls my hair away and holds my chin, bearing a proud smile. “You shouldn’t. The bitch deserved it.” I can’t help but examine the blood drying up on his face and his knuckle and the skin peeling off, and…my stomach literally churns, and I stand up before I can stop myself. I say nothing as I tug at his shirt’s collar and tug him to stand to his feet.
“Where are we going?” he asks as I walk across the hall and into the bathroom.
“Sit and don’t move,” I instruct him as I sit him down on the toilet. He raises his hands defensively with a knowing smirk. “I won’t be your nurse all the time, Grey,” I warn him with a pointed finger, but we both know I’m lying. I will always clean him up and make sure he’s polished and taken care of. Always. I love him too much to see him like this—bloody and beaten.
I’m in way too deep. I am a shiny coin that’s been tossed down a well with no bottom.
As I clean his face and wrap his hands and stitch his face the best I can, I know he knows it as well.
And as he takes his bipolar medication in front of me while I lean against the door with a pleased grin, I know he’s falling right beside me.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I awake with the sense that something’s off. I don’t know what, though. So I sit up and rub my heavy eyes before opening them. I look around in confusion. I’m in Grey’s room, not David’s—I mean the spare room now that he doesn’t live here anymore. But I could have sworn I fell asleep in the other room’s bed, not Grey’s…ugh! He must have moved me here. It explains why I’m not struggling to catch my breath right now. He suppressed my nightmares because he was near. If only I could get him in capsule form so I wouldn’t need him every night to sleep in peace.
When I glance at the window and find the slightly dark-tinted sky, I frown. How early is it? The clock on the wall next to me reads 3:47 a.m. What is Grey doing up at this time? I squint my eyes and ruffle through the sheets for my phone. More importantly, where the hell is my phone?
I slip out of the bed and run my fingers through my bed-head curls that stick out everywhere.
“Grey?” I softly call his name as I look for him.
He’s in the apartment. Call me crazy, but I swear I can sense his presence. That and the fact his boots are in the room. And I think those are his only pair. I’ve never seen him wear any other kind of shoes, but I don’t think I’d like to. It wouldn’t be the same. Imagining him in a pair of Converse makes me laugh out loud. That just wouldn’t work out, like, at all.
I walk into the open area of the kitchen and living room and find him staring out of the wide, tall windows that expand out of the upper half of the brick wall to the right of the space. He’s just standing there, arms crossed with his back facing me. I shamelessly admire his tight, broad back muscles, noting the way they flex when he raises his hand to rub his bottom lip, like he does when he’s contemplative. What the heck has him so upset?
I pad over to him and brush my shoulder against his as I sidle next to him. “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer me, so I look at him and find him holding out my phone without any expression. I take it from him, and my accusatory words dissolve on my tongue. I know why he took it; it’s because my mother has been blowing up my phone. Countless numbers of missed calls and even more texts, all mentioning Christmas and what time I should be picked up.
I’m honestly surprised she even wants me to come given what happened at Thanksgiving. She was livid when I whisked off to the cabin without informing anyone, especially her. I bet she was so embarrassed when family members and friends arrived, only to have my spot empty without a justifiable reason. One that would satisfy her, of course. Though nothing I could have ever said would have made her understand.
“I don’t want to be the reason you’re detached from your family like this.” His voice is very low, and I almost don’t hear him.
“You aren’t,” I lie.
“You’re a terrible liar.” He scoffs and faces me, leaning on the cool window as he stares at me.
“Okay, there’s been a little…tension between us, but I don’t care,” I tell him. “I love you, Grey. And nothing my mother can dig up about you or say will make me leave you.”
“I appreciate that, but—”
“It’s just Christmas,” I cut him off. “The last time we even spent Christmas together, as a family, was eight years ago. She only wants to spend it with me now because I’m defying her and am spending it with you instead.”
His eyebrows shoot up, his eyes glistening with amusement. “Who said we’re spending it together?”
“Um, I just thought—” I mumble and look away in horror. I honestly assumed we would since we’re together and are kind of living together. Kind of. This is temporary until he’s sure he can stand on his own two feet without David, which may take a while. That’s understandable. But I still should have confirmed Christmas with him in the first place.
He bursts into laughter, and I freeze up, scared he’s making fun of me, until he brings me into his chest and kisses my forehead. “I was messing with you,” he says in a low voice. “You should have seen your face.” His eyes screw shut as he lets out an obnoxious laugh.
“You should see yours. You embody the word asshole,” I quip back with a smile of my own.
His smile drops, and he holds me tighter. I almost let out a moan as he presses me against the window and grips my chin, tilting my head back. “I’ll show you asshole.” He pins me to the window, his long fingers nearly digging into my skin. I open my mouth to protest, but he ducks his head down and swipes his tongue across my lips before biting my lower lip. My body flushes as a flash of heat spreads through me, gripping every nerve in my body.
“You acted like one to me today and yesterday, and so many other times,” I grit through my teeth, but he shushes me and migrates his tongue along my cheek before grazing it around and sucking my earlobe. I quiver and shake my head. “No, no, no. I won
’t be that girl. I won’t just let you fuck me and forget about how you acted toward me. That is not how this is going to work.”
“Mm-hmmm,” he hums aimlessly, continuing to make marks on my skin. And no matter how good it feels, I need to know that he understands what I am saying.
“Grey.” I roughly push him back. “I love you so much it actually drives me insane, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let you walk all over me, bipolar disorder or not. Do you understand me?”
He breathes out, his jaw tight and his eyes the pinnacle of assertiveness. “Yes, I understand. I know how wrong and messed up I can be, and I am truly sorry. I don’t ever want to hurt you. It’s not my goal at all. I just…” He pauses and rubs the back of his neck. “I just want to show you how much I love you without fucking up in some way, like I always do.”
I can feel myself melting at his words. I look into his eyes and hang onto every word, trying to decipher if he’s telling the truth, or he just said what he thought would make me drop the subject and let him have his way with me. But try as I may, I can’t find anything but the truth. The utter, complete, and heart-warming truth.
“Okay…” I say, fighting back a smile.
“Okay, what?” He wiggles his brows.
I laugh and wrap my arms around his neck. “Okay…show me how much you love me.”
He reaches down and lifts me up; my legs automatically wrap around his tight waist. “Just to make it clear…” He brushes my hair back, and his eyes settle on my lips. “I don’t love you for this alone. You have no idea what you do to me.” He presses into me, and I close my eyes and laugh breathlessly, gulping.
In one swift motion, my panties are ripped off and so is his shirt I was wearing. I bite my lip as he pulls off his boxers, leaving him naked and tatted for me to admire. I am so glad my period stopped a few hours ago.
“Oh, I have an idea,” I say cheekily, referring to his member that’s pressed into me.
“Did you just mock me?” His voice is low, rough.
“Maybe—” I stop teasing him further when he dips his hand and swirls a finger around my clit.
“Mm-hmmm.” He chuckles and presses his hard length against me. “That’s what I thought.” He nips at my bottom lip and tugs until he lets go and it bounces back. Fuck, do I love it when he does that.
I nod, desperate for him, all of him. Until I realize something—we’re against the window. Literally, anyone and everyone can see us.
“Not here, though,” I say and begin to unwrap my legs, but he grabs them and presses into me again. I swear the window will give out from under me if he keeps pressing into me like this. I instinctively wrap my legs around his naked waist to satisfy my fearful thought. I moan when I feel his tip brush against my wetness. “Grey, we can’t do it here.”
His eyebrows concave. “Why not?” The fact he sounds genuinely concerned makes me ten times hotter, because it means he doesn’t give a fuck and expresses how dirty he can truly be. That he wants to fuck me anywhere he wants. That he is so consumed by me, he would put on a show for the whole world to see. It’s taboo at its best, but it still makes me nervous.
“B-because it’s—we’ll be visible,” I whisper, and he laughs, curving his hands around the round shape of my face. “And—and I’m not entirely comf—Jesus, Grey!” My anxiety is drowned out by my own scream when he enters me. I instantly secure my arms around him and feel every tightness surrounding our location melt like my heart has the moment I first saw him.
“It’s three in the—fuck—morning. No one is—holy shit, do you feel gooood,” he drawls and sucks on my bottom lip before clasping his fist around my throat and pumping in and out of me. “Around. So shut up and let me fuck you.”
“M-kay,” is my lame response, and he booms in laughter. I smile as my body shakes under his as he laughs. I bite my lip before tipping his chin back and smashing my lips against his. I slip my tongue into his mouth, and his caresses mine gently. But then I weave my fingers through his hair and tug hard, yanking his head back. Suddenly it’s civil war. The kiss grows passionate, and his thrusts get harder and deeper. So much deeper. I can feel him soaking me in, every stroke hitting me in just the right place.
“I am so glad you got on that fucking pill,” he groans and leans back, watching himself as he thrusts in and out of me, his lengthy member disappearing and showing every time he comes in and out. In and out. And faster. And faster, faster, faster. “I can feel every single inch of you. Do you feel me, baby? Hmmmm?” I close my eyes as he grips my butt and gives it a smack before pressing me into the window. My skin fizzles and cracks against the cold surface, my body sizzling with fire.
I moan and nod and try my best to match his thrusts. I think I’m doing good, because he hisses through his teeth and goes faster. “Yes, it feels amazing. So—s-so good, Grey,” I stutter and screw my eyes close as he screws me. I am actually very glad I got on the pill, because before I felt the condoms kept me from feeling him take me. Skin to skin. And this way, I can savor the feeling of his length in me, taking me over and over and over again until I feel like I’m going to explode.
After a few more thrusts, he rests a hand beside my head and pushes me up and down by my hip. I jump when he smacks the glass and presses into his nose into my neck, sucking and marking my skin. Marring me, claiming me. And I want the same done to him. So I push him and attack his neck with my sloppy kisses and teeth gliding down his neck, his vein beating against my love bites.
“I’m—” he begins to say through his teeth.
“Me too,” I murmur, leaning back against the window. I moan his name over and over and listen to his ragged breath as he holds me closer to his sweat-layered chest. I massage his scalp with my fingertips and feel my stomach tighten. I gulp wearily and curl my toes.
“I’m coming. Now. Grey!” I scream his name as he bounces me up and down, my breasts jump up and down as my body vibrates, shaking and jolting repeatedly.
“I’m coming, bebé,” he announces. “I’m coming. Fuck, fuck—fuck!” His nails inch into my skin, and I scream out in pain and pleasure and swallow his cries with my mouth covering his. I explore his mouth even though I’m an expert and know every nook and dip inside. But each trip is more pleasant than the last.
“Grey! Mm-hmmm, I can feel you. Oh, yes. Yes!” I pull back for a quick breath, pants escaping my swollen lips. I literally feel him release in me. It feels weird and indescribable, but on a strange level, I feel proud. Like him releasing in me makes me feel special, somehow. Like he’d never trust a girl or be so stupid to do so to anyone else. And it feels even better knowing he never will. Because I’m not letting go of this wonderful, damaged man in front of me.
He pulls out of me, and I wince at the emptiness, but he comforts me by kissing my lips. A smile hugs his lips before he does it again. I smile against his lips smooth as silk and pull his chin down.
“Still nervous about being fucked against a window?” he teases.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The alarm I set for seven wakes me up a few hours later. Grey pushes my face, grumbling at me to turn it off. I shove his hand away from me with a slight smile and sit up. I stretch my limbs, the thin sheet that covered my naked body falling around my hips, like a puddle of silk. He can be such a grump in the morning. But I need him to get up.
There is nothing edible in the fridge, and I’m tired of take-out. It’s not healthy. We have to go grocery shopping. I can’t express how much I have missed eating greens and had anything to drink besides soda or beer. It’s alarming how much my diet has changed because of this man.
“Get up, Grey.” My voice is ragged and deep with sleep as I yawn and rub my eyes, turning to face him. “We have to go shopping—” I stop short when I lift an eye and find him staring up at me. A small slant turns his bruised cheek upright, his eyes dark with a slightly fading black eye. How is it that, even bruised and scarred, he is the epitome of handsomeness? He’s like a shattered sculpture shaped by
God above. Broken, but a sculpture nonetheless.
My cheeks instantly redden under his heavy gaze. “What?” I groan.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he rasps, slanting his mouth as he reaches over and pulls me onto his chest. “If I haven’t, I am now. You are so fucking beautiful, princesa.” His words, as usual, burn me alive. But in a good way.
A smile forms on my face. “What did you do wrong?” I tease, suggesting he’s messed up somehow even though we figured things out last night. I know Grey, and I know he would need a little more than four hours to mess up.
He narrows his eyes and drags his fingers up and down my sides. I let out shrieks and giggle as I straddle his hips. “Okay, I—surrender.”
He stops and flips us, so I am under him. “I love you, mi amor.”
“I love you too.” I’m surprised by his bold affection, but I am also enjoying it. “And I would love it even more if we went grocery shopping. The fridge is empty.”
“We have things in there,” he defends and plops back down beside me, but I sit up and stand while I’m at it. My sex is a little sore because of last night, but I can deal with it. Just reminiscing about last night makes my stomach tighten and leaves my head light.
“What? Like beer and lettuce?” I laugh.
“Yeah, protein and all that good stuff.”
“I’m guessing beer is the good stuff?”
“Well, yeah.”
I scoop up one of his jeans that litter the ground and toss it at his head. “Get ready.” I look around the dirty room and literally shiver. “I have a lot of work ahead of me.” I put my hands on my hips as I sweep my eyes over the clothes flung around haphazardly and inhale the stench of cologne and grease. “Jesus, Grey. When’s the last time you cleaned?”
“Excuse me for not being a clean freak like you,” he jokes. I glare at him. His smile wavers, and he clears his throat and whistles, avoiding my gaze. “Touchy.”
Grey: The Infatuation (Spectrum Series Book 2) Page 30