More Than Words

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More Than Words Page 13

by Daphne Abbott


  I was used to working days, so napping for an overnight shift was harder than before. Plus, I’d never slept with a man in my bed. Ever. It was especially tough with my mind spinning from the meeting we’d just had with the lawyer.

  “Do you think she’ll be able to help with Granddad? She seemed kinda skeptical.”

  “She said she would. Stop borrowing trouble. If you can’t calm yourself down in the next five minutes, I’m doing it for you.”

  I propped myself on my elbow and looked down at Gray. He had his eyes closed, an arm behind his head, the other around me. He looked like a man ready to take a midday rest. But I knew he was even less likely to sleep than I was.

  “How are you going to make me relax?”

  Gray cracked open an eye. The blue of his iris shimmered in the soft light of my bedroom like a sapphire. It really wasn’t fair that he had such pretty eyes.

  “You seriously don’t know how I can make you relax?”

  The tone of his voice, the silky smooth way those words dripped around me made me realize exactly how he intended to help me relax. After our abbreviated make-out session after our one and only date, we’d shared a few kisses and some cuddling but nothing else. I’d assumed he was waiting for a time when we could be alone again.

  Like now.

  The girls were with Melanie and Lucy at a movie in town and wouldn’t be back for hours. Had he planned their outing just to give us some alone time?

  “Ruby?” He had both eyes open now, and I could only describe the look in them as feral.

  “We’re alone now.”

  “We are,” he agreed.

  I placed my hand on his chest. His heartbeat thundered beneath my palms. But Gray remained still, watching me as I struggled to decide. He seemed determined to let me be the one to make the first move. His willingness to let me lead was a heady thing, and I decided to take what he was offering.

  By increments, I inched my hand down his stomach, tracing the lines of his muscles through the soft cotton of his tee. He was muscular, but not overly so. He took care to go to the gym almost daily, but I loved that he never pushed himself to keep a six-pack. As I explored, the only reaction Gray gave was a shiver and an increase in his breathing. He held himself utterly still as I explored his body.

  When I’d touched every inch of his stomach and chest through the tee, I slid a hand under his shirt to explore his bare skin. He was hot to the touch, and the hair that arrowed toward his stomach tickled my palms. I became obsessed with that hair, petting and stroking it, luxuriating in the sensation of it on my fingers.

  When my hands weren’t enough, I sat up on my knees at Gray’s side and leaned in to rub my mouth along his ribs and down his stomach. On his left rib cage, just below his armpit, was an intricate tattoo filled with symbols and coordinates. What it meant, I did not know, but it must have been important to put it on his body near his heart. I wanted him to explain it, but the drive of desire was too strong to ignore.

  When I couldn’t reach his other side easily, I changed positions, so I was straddling his thighs. Gray hissed out a breath and grabbed hold of my hips. I waited a beat to see if he’d do more, but when he just continued to hold me in a loose grip, I carried on.

  “Ruby,” he groaned as I ran my mouth up the side of his neck, forcing my breasts against his chest. “Tell me what you want … tell me ...”

  I was having too much fun exploring him, so I teased him a little. I bit down on his ear lightly, then stretched out on top of him. Every soft curve and valley of my body aligned perfectly with the hard muscles and ridges of his body. Despite our near foot difference in height, we fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

  “Don’t you like me touching you, Gray?” I breathed into his ear.

  “Love it more than I can say. But I’d love it a lot more if you’d tell me I could reciprocate.”

  I picked my head up so I could look him in the face. “Are you handing me the control?”

  “You’re always in control. You want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk, I’ll do it. You want me to spend hours worshiping that gorgeous body, I’ll satisfy every inch of you. You want me to spoon you until you fall asleep, I’ll give you the best cuddle you have ever had. But I’m not gonna touch you ’til you let me know when and how you want me to touch you.”

  I stopped teasing and sat back. I needed to take this in and really appreciate what he was saying. “No one’s really ever asked me that. I’ve had sex, but I’ve never had a conversation about where and how I like to be touched.”

  Gray got a gentle look on his face and reached up, removing the elastic from my hair. Then he threaded his fingers through the tresses, using his fingers to gently massage my scalp and the base of my neck.

  Tingles of sensation shot down my body, and liquid warmth pooled in my belly. “Oh god,” I moaned. “I may come just from that.”

  Gray laughed. “That’s fine as long as it’s just the warm-up and not the entire act.”

  I laughed again, then cut myself off as he slid his hands down to my shoulders and worked at the knots there. “I’d tell you to keep that up, but then I’d fall asleep, and we’d be back at square one again.”

  “All jokes aside, shortcake. If you just want a good rub down and a nap before work, I’d be up for that too.”

  “Mm, nope,” I said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “I’m thinking fucking until I can’t walk sounds just about perfect right now.”

  “Careful what you wish for, Ruby.”

  He pounced with the grace of a big cat.

  Before I knew it, Gray had wrapped me up in his arms and flipped me onto my back, all while his mouth sealed tightly over mine. My heart rate spiked at the macho display, and I felt excitement unlike any I’d experienced before.

  Old insecurities and a lifetime of living with a sweet but clueless uncle were probably not going to be helpful in exploring this new side of my relationship with Gray. Not for the first time, I wished that I’d tried harder to date in high school; at least then I’d have more experiences to draw from. Though, if the way he was kissing me and rubbing his big body against mine was any sign, Gray was more than okay with my skills so far.

  I tried to slide my hands under his shirt again to get another feel of all that smooth skin over hard muscle, but he pulled my hands away. In a seamless move, Gray held my hands above my head with one hand while he used the other to slide under my soft sweater. “My turn, darlin’.”

  The dark tone in his voice had ripples of awareness rushing up and down my body. I sucked in a breath as his blunt fingers traced a light pattern on my waist between the fabric of my leggings and the cup of my bra. Instead of going for my breasts, which I expected, Gray danced his fingers over my stomach and waist.

  I tried not to be self-conscious as Grayson tugged up my sweater to give him better access. I wasn’t ashamed, per se, but I wasn’t thrilled about the current state of my body either. I fought the urge to suck in my belly and arch my body in a more pleasing angle. It would have eased my nerves, but it felt like lying to Gray.

  Besides, Gray seemed to worship every curve, soft spot, ripple, and dimple he encountered. After a few moments of kissing along my stomach and ribs, he tugged off my sweater and popped the clasp of my bra in a quick move. My breasts, free of their prison, spilled into his clever hands and I was too far gone to care if they looked good or not.

  His squeezes and caresses made my clit throb. When he latched on to one of my nipples with his mouth while using his free hand to pinch and pluck at the other, I thought I might die. Gray seemed to sense my distress better than I understood it myself. Just when I’d think I couldn’t take anymore, he’d change tactics or positions, and he’d find a whole new way to drive me crazy.

  To even the scales, I tugged off his tee and attached to his bare skin as much as our position allowed. The feel and
taste of him made me a little mad, or maybe it was just the experience of feeling so good. I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was that I wanted more of this feeling.

  “Gray,” I panted. “I need—”

  “I know. I do too.”

  I kept telling myself I needed to be a more active partner in this, but every time I tried, Gray would just drown me in more sensation. His hands skimmed down my legs, rubbing circles into the muscles where he found knots and lingering tension. Briefly, I worried when the last time I’d done any maintenance below the belt. Should I stop this to make sure he wouldn’t discover a jungle beneath my panties? Did men really care how the shrubbery was trimmed so long as they got to visit the garden?

  I giggled at my own joke.

  Gray looked up from where he’d been kissing my thighs and crooked an eyebrow. “Something you want to share with me, shortcake?”

  “No,” I said and sucked back another laugh.

  Gray’s grin looked almost evil. “I could tease it out of you.”

  I snorted again. “Please don’t. It’ll kill the mood.”

  He quirked a brow but seemed willing to let it go—for now.

  I used his pause to shift things further into gear. Gray may have been interested in a slow and soft interlude, but I had been teased enough. I sat up and pushed at Gray’s shoulders so he’d sit back on his knees.

  Before he could stop me, I reached for the button of his jeans and tugged it open so I could sneak my hand inside. He was hard and hot in my palm. When I circled his cock with my hand, the pulse of his flesh set off a similar reaction in my pussy.

  “Enough teasing, Gray. Please?”

  He cupped my cheeks and kissed me while he arched his hips, silently demanding more of my touch. “Anything you want.”

  He got off the bed and pulled his wallet from his pocket before stripping off the last of his clothes. His body was still rough-hewn like a man much younger. His muscles toned and taut, but not over-inflated like some cross-fit-obsessed gym rat. Gray was a man who’d worked and trained his body to do a job. This was a body of a protector and a hero, not of a pretty boy that wanted to look good.

  Gray pulled out a foil packet from the wallet and crawled back into bed with me. “I’ve been thinking about seeing you like this for so long. My imagination came nowhere near what I see now.” I blushed. “You’re still in control. We don’t have to do anything more than you want.”

  I loved how he kept checking in with me like that. Never had I realized how sexy it could be to have a partner constantly checking in that I was enjoying myself. I’d been sold too many lies through movies and television that everyone had an orgasm all the time without ever exchanging a word.

  This reality was much better than the movies.

  Gray’s fingers on my pussy erased all logical thought. He circled my clit with amazing accuracy as he sealed his mouth over mine in another burning kiss. When I shifted to get the friction I needed, Gray understood my cues and adjusted his strokes. It wasn’t long before he had me clinging to the ledge of an orgasm.

  “Gray, please,” I begged. What I wanted, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that he was giving me everything I needed.

  Gray stopped his caresses long enough to rip open the condom packet and slide it on his hard cock. As he knelt in between my legs, I reached down to stroke him as I guided him toward my body. When he nudged my entrance with the tip of his dick, I let go and wrapped my arms and legs around him in a tight hold.

  Gray slid home in a silky move that made me throw back my head and moan out loud. He filled me in all the right places, not too big or too small. Just exactly what I needed and how I needed it. Gray set up a steady pace that had the throb in my clit increasing with each thrust.

  When he reached down and hooked my leg with his arm, shifting our positions, I saw stars behind my eyelids. Neither of us spoke except to moan the other’s name. All sense of time and space dissolved to just us in the bed, connected in the most intimate way possible.

  “Ruby,” Gray said with a warning in his voice.

  I understood he wanted me to fall off the cliff with him, so I reached between our bodies and rubbed my clit with the hard pressure I needed right at that moment.

  Gray looked down to watch me touch myself. “Fuck, that’s so sexy. Get yourself off while I fuck you.”

  Maybe it was my fingers, maybe it was his cock, or maybe it was his words. Whatever it was, I tumbled off the cliff with a shout. The shock waves of my orgasm rippled through me like a bomb blast. Distantly, I heard Gray’s answering shout as he thrust into me hard and stayed planted.

  For a few long moments, we stayed connected, clinging together as we came down from our individual orgasms. For the first time in what seemed like forever, I felt content. Gray’s solid weight and his soft kisses on my neck lulled me into a weightless feeling, somewhere between dreams and reality.

  “Sleep now,” he murmured and kissed the side of my mouth.

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” I groused.

  My last conscious thought was that it wasn’t nice of him to laugh at me.

  Chapter 22

  Gray

  Two months.

  Pearl had been missing for two months. Two months of not knowing if she was alive or dead. Not knowing if she needed help or if she had intentionally left her daughters to fend for themselves. I spent hours on the phone with my friend, Doc, in Montana and on calls to law enforcement each week. Each time I came away with nothing. I struggled with impotent rage and frustration. How hard could it be to find one woman?

  Ruby tried to act like it wasn’t weighing her down, and she convinced most of the people that asked. But the girls’ constant questions about Pearl’s location, teamed with the sheer volume of information we did not know, was weighing my girl down. I could see the way her shoulders would droop when she thought no one was looking. Or the way sleep eluded her just as much as it did me.

  All of my plotting and worrying had led me to the woman we sat across from today. Annika Weber was a freelance reporter for the largest newspaper in the area. I’d contacted her through her website dedicated to her journalism and true-crime podcast. Annika spent her off-hours researching cold cases and advocating for victims’ rights. She was exactly the type of person we needed to help find Pearl.

  “The police’s inaction on your mom’s case isn’t surprising,” Annika said as she took notes in a notebook. She’d come to this meeting at the local coffee shop, Fika, loaded down with a large briefcase, tape recorder, laptop, and at least five notebooks. Her professionalism was an immediate comfort for both me and Ruby.

  “I know,” agreed Ruby. “It didn’t surprise me either, but what else were we to do?”

  Annika smiled, her teeth almost eerily white in the dim lighting of the coffee shop. “You did the right thing. It’s just unfortunate a lot of police still buy into the lie that adults disappear of their own free will more than they are victims of crime.”

  “We have a friend that has acquaintances in federal law enforcement,” I added. “He’s been trying to call in favors, but he has gotten nowhere yet.”

  “Tell him to keep trying. The more people you bring Pearl’s story to, the better chance of finding her,” Annika said. “I’ve read over both your statements, and I agree that your mom’s disappearance seems unlikely to be of her choice. Nothing in her behavior the last year shows she was into anything new like drugs, gambling, sex work, or theft.”

  Annika typed a few things on her laptop, then spun the screen around to face Ruby and me. “You’ve circulated this picture to news outlets and the cops, right?”

  The picture was of Pearl with Ray and Britt, sitting on Ruby’s couch with a pile of Christmas presents in front of them. “Yes,” Ruby said. “It was the most recent one I could find.”

  “You should reach out to some of her friends or search
your own files for a few more. Especially anywhere your mom is wearing a wig or has different hair. It helps people to visualize what the person looks like now. If you can’t find any, I have a friend that can mock something up on the computer.”

  “I’ll ask around,” Ruby agreed. “Is there anything else I should do?”

  “I think you’re doing it. You’ve contacted me and others to help you, and now you need a little faith that someone will come through.” Annika reached out and covered Ruby’s hand with hers.

  I pulled Ruby close to my side and soothed my hand down her back. Her body trembled against mine, and I could tell that Annika’s words were hitting her hard.

  “Where will you start?” I asked.

  “I’ll do my usual routine of interviewing her friends and co-workers. Ruby mentioned I should avoid her parents?”

  I nodded. “For your own safety, please do.”

  “My grandfather is a religious nut. Not to mention he’s racist and a misogynist,” Ruby added. “I have a restraining order against him for myself and my sisters.”

  “Well, since I’m a Black female atheist, I’ll take your advice. Unless my investigation leads back to him,” Annika said with a tight grimace on her face. “I’ll be working on stories about your mom and submitting them to newspapers and posting them on my blog. I’ll also mention it on this week’s podcast and post the basic details to my social media pages.”

  “And you think that will help?” I asked.

  “I’ve been doing this for five years, and me and my fans have found four missing persons, aided in the arrest of two suspects in cold cases, and shed light on the epidemic of missing indigenous women. I have the utmost confidence that either I or one of the many sleuths will come up with something.”

  “I hope so,” Ruby said. “It’s been two months, and no one has found a thing.”

  “You mentioned your mom had recently broken up with a man,” Annika said, then looked at her notes. “Dale Imhoff.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “Her friends claim they broke up two weeks before the disappearance.”

 

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