by Eva Ashwood
His lips press together, pain burning in his green eyes. “Maybe I should have. Maybe if I had, they wouldn’t hate me just as much as you do now. But I didn’t want them to have to lie to you too. I didn’t want you to hate all of us.”
My eyes sting with the threat of tears, and I blink hard. “So you shut us all out. You went behind all of our backs to make a deal with the devil.”
Gray nods. His body is still caging mine against the wall, and I can feel the tension in every muscle, the way he almost seems to vibrate with it. “Yes. I knew you’d never forgive me. I can barely fucking forgive myself. But sometimes you have to make a deal with the devil to protect an angel.”
I should laugh at the notion that Gray considers me an angel. I should laugh at all of this, because it has to be a fucking joke. But no laughter comes. I can’t seem to make a fucking sound.
“I did what I did as a last ditch effort to keep you safe,” he says quietly. “That’s the truth, whether you want to believe it or not. I didn’t want to let you go, but I had to. To protect you.”
The raw edge to his voice is like a knife, cutting through the layers of protection I’ve wrapped around my heart.
Gray is as broken as I am. I’ve always seen that in him, and I think it’s what drew us together in the first place, that night at The Silent Hour when we both decided to bury our pain in a moment of ecstasy. So no matter what he’s done to me, it hurts to see pain in his eyes now. There’s a part of me that wants to try to ease his hurt—but I don’t owe him that.
“Then do it. Protect me.” I say the words quietly, forcing them past numb lips. “Let me go right now.”
Gray’s expression shifts. The intensity in his green eyes dims a little, and he looks stunned. Almost devastated.
But isn’t this what he wanted?
For a moment, he stays right where he is, his body caging mine against the wall and his jaw clenched tight.
Then he takes two steps back from the wall, giving me space to slip out. Space to leave.
There are less than three feet between us, but it feels like a fucking ocean. It feels like a vast continent that we’ll never be able to bridge. Some part of my heart that I like to pretend doesn’t exist breaks at that thought. Because whether or not what he said about Brody and Melissa is true, he’s still willing to let me go. Just like he did on Christmas Day.
He’s willing to let me walk out of his life.
Because he cares about me?
That doesn’t match any definition of love I’ve ever known.
I try to hide my disappointment, the bite of pain that cuts through my chest. But I must not be entirely successful, because recognition flashes in Gray’s eyes.
His jaw tightens. He stays stock still, allowing me to step away.
It’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done in my life. I want to stay, want to believe him. Want to go back to that perfect moment in his kitchen before the world crumbled around me.
Gray is right. I’m a fighter. It’s not in my nature to back down from anything.
But if he’s not going to fight for us, why should I?
Dragging my gaze away from his tortured face, I move toward the door at the bottom of the stairwell.
One step.
Two steps.
Three—
“Fuck.”
A hand clamps around my wrist, and before my foot touches the floor again, Gray yanks me roughly back.
He grabs my shoulders and pivots our bodies, pressing me against the wall again. Before I have a chance to do or say anything, his lips crash down on mine, stealing all the air from my lungs.
He kisses me like he’s been starving.
Like he’s been dying.
Like he won’t let go this time, not even if I ask. Not even if I demand it. Not even if it’s the sane thing to do.
He kisses like a sinner who tried to be a saint and couldn’t fucking do it.
I don’t know what would happen if I tried to make him stop, but it doesn’t matter. The combustible chemistry between us, always so close to the surface, explodes. My arms wrap around him, fingernails digging into his back as I kiss him with the same ferocity I’ve wanted to punch him with.
The connection between our lips is laced with fury and pain, with regret and madness. It’s stupid. It’s so fucking stupid. Maybe I should’ve run when I had the chance, but now that we’re here, our bodies colliding like two stars pulled together by gravity, all I want to do is bury my pain in ecstasy.
His mouth is ravenous on mine, taking faster than I can give, and I bite his bottom lip, taking everything I want from him too.
Gray’s hands move restlessly over my body, groping and squeezing every part of me he can reach. He fumbles for my pants, flicking the button open and yanking the fly down before sliding his hand up my stomach and squeezing my breast with rough fingers.
None of his movements are finessed or smooth.
Everything is desperate and jerky, out of control.
He pinches my nipple so hard I gasp into his mouth, and he drags more air from my lungs as he kisses me harder. His hands drop to my pants again, shoving them roughly down over my hips. My panties too.
They bunch up around my thighs, and cool air hits my slick pussy, which is already wet with arousal from Gray’s fierce kiss. The door to the hallway is only a couple yards away, and I’m positive it’s not locked. Someone could walk in at any moment, and the part of me that still can’t trust Gray wonders if that’s his plan. If there are a half dozen students armed with cell phone cameras ready to burst through the door at any moment to snap pictures of the charity case scholarship student with her pants down, about to get fucked in a stairwell.
But no one comes through the door, and when Gray shoves two fingers inside me, I’m not even sure I’d care if they did.
He groans as I whimper.
“You’re wet, Sparrow. Even after everything I did to you, is this still for me?”
He knows it fucking is, so I don’t bother to answer his question. Part of me hates that I can be furious at Gray and still want him so fucking bad.
The other part of me?
She just wants him.
No. Needs him. Needs this.
He pumps his fingers inside me a few more times, curling them against my g-spot until I’m panting. Then he draws them out, grabbing my hips and spinning me around so fast the stairwell blurs around me.
The sharp hiss of a zipper behind me puts every nerve-ending in my body on alert. Gray grabs my hips again, pulling them away from the wall a little as my palms press against the hard, cool surface.
His breath is coming hard and fast, and one hand leaves my hips, guiding his cock to my entrance. He presses in slow, just an inch at a time, and I feel every single one.
“I should never have let you go,” he mutters, so low I’m not even sure I’m supposed to hear his words. His hips move forward a little more, stretching me with agonizing slowness. “Do you know why I came after you that night after you left the bar? Why I dragged you into that alley for another fuck?”
“Why?” I demand, clenching hard around him, punishing him for making me wait like this.
He chuckles, drawing out a little and making me curse in frustration.
“Because I knew even then that I couldn’t live without you.” He slides in deeper. “You breathed life into me, Sparrow. You brought me back from the fucking hell I was in, and I knew I’d never survive long without you after that. I was just trying to get one more taste, one more dose before I left.”
As he finishes speaking, he slides the rest of the way in, until he’s sheathed completely inside me.
I feel… so fucking full.
It’s not just his cock stretching my inner walls, not just the intrusion after so long without him.
That feeling of fullness is everywhere. As if he’s somehow overtaken my body, his cells bonding with mine and invading every part of me. As if that final thrust of his cock cemented some connection between us tha
t will never be broken now.
I let out a soft noise. I can’t tell if it’s surrender or resistance, happiness or regret. Maybe it’s a little bit of all of those things.
Gray makes a noise too, grinding his hips against my ass as if he needs friction but can’t bear to move yet. His lips find the back of my neck, pressing kisses to my hair and the shell of my ear as his hands move over my body again.
One squeezes my breast possessively while the other delves between my legs, his fingers sliding through my arousal and brushing over the connection between us before finding my clit and drawing heavy circles.
“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp. “I fucking know that, Sparrow. But I’m done trying to pretend I don’t need you.”
As if those words are a dam breaking, he finally begins to fuck me, unleashing all the pent-up tension I’ve felt in him since he first slid inside me.
Just like his touches and caresses, there’s nothing smooth or controlled about this fuck. It’s animalistic, wild, so hard that I’m positive the sound of our bodies slapping together is echoing off the stairwell walls several floors above us.
We could still get caught. Even if Gray didn’t plan this as a way of humiliating me, there’s still a decent chance someone could walk through the door or come down the stairs any minute.
But my mind can’t focus on that right now. I can’t bring myself to care.
My fingernails are digging into the unforgiving wall, my back arching as I slam into Gray, meeting every one of his harsh thrusts.
It feels a little like we’re trying to break each other.
But fuck it. I’m already broken.
He pinches my clit between his fingers, sending a bolt of pleasure and pain through me. I come on a loud cry, the sound bouncing off the bare walls and joining Gray’s deep grunt as he comes too. He keeps pumping into me until his dick begins to soften, as if he’s dreading the moment where we have to separate.
But that moment comes anyway, whether we want it to or not.
My heart is still pounding heavily against my ribs as he slides out of me, gripping my hips to turn me around again. I expect him to tug my pants back up, to put himself back together before anyone has a chance to find us.
But he ignores the fact that his dick is still out, wet with our combined arousal and jutting forward from his body. He ignores the fact that anyone walking in would have a perfect view of his gorgeous ass. He ignores all of that as his searching gaze finds mine, his fingers dragging along my jawbone as he tilts my chin up. Our faces are so close that our noses almost brush, and I can feel our breath warming the air between us.
Gray’s grip on my jaw tightens a little. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and when he finally speaks, his words aren’t perfect. They don’t magically fix everything. But they’re the only thing I need to hear from him in this moment.
“I’m sorry, Sparrow. I’m so fucking sorry.”
14
The only sound that echoes through the stairwell is my breath mingling with Gray’s, his body still slumped against mine, his head buried in my shoulder. His spicy scent is mingled with my own, mixed with the scent of our sweat and arousal.
My heart slowly begins to quiet down to a sated thud in my chest as Gray trails kisses along my neck, his hands still groping my body, touching me everywhere—like he’s afraid if he doesn’t, I’m going to leave him too soon.
My head is clear.
So fucking clear right now.
Like I can suddenly see again, like I suddenly understand again. I know why he did what he did. I don’t like it, but I can see now there wasn’t any other choice. Even though he knew all along, I still wish he could have found some way to tell me the truth.
I can’t hold on to my anger though. Not when his body is still pressed into mine, his breath fanning against my neck, his lips on my skin. The aftermath of sex with Gray is almost as intense as fucking him, but in a different way.
In a silent way.
In a soft way.
All those things I was just starting to let myself feel before he betrayed me, those feelings I hardly understand, start to creep silently back into my soul. I try to push them away, but it’s hard when I can still feel every inch of him inside of me.
He’s ruining me.
Ruining my heart.
Or maybe it’s already wrecked.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Sophie,” Gray says quietly, breaking the silence. His nose brushes against my nose as his lips press the lightest kiss to my own. “But I was willing to let you think I was an asshole to save you.”
My heart drops to my stomach as he captures my lips in another kiss. It’s slow, deep, and searching. It steals the air out of my lungs, making my head spin a little. This reminds me of the aftermath of our first desperate, hot fuck in the bathroom of The Silent Hour, except this time, I think we both know there will be no walking away.
For either of us.
It’s like we tethered our souls together when he came inside me.
“I did,” I murmur. “I really hated you, Gray.”
He brings a hand up to cup the side of my face, running his thumb over my cheekbone. “I know. And it killed me. But I was willing to let you hate me for the rest of your life if it meant you were safe and free. I was willing to pay for any school you wanted to go to, I was willing to do whatever it took to get you away from him.” A muscle in his jaw jumps, and he swallows. “I would have broken my own fucking heart to make sure you were okay.”
Shit.
I suck in a shaky breath, one hand pressed to his chest while the other curls around the back of his neck. I can feel his heart pounding beneath my palm, and for a second, I just focus on that—as if it can tell me something his words can’t.
When I don’t say anything for a while, he speaks again, his voice a hoarse whisper.
“Do you believe me?” His fingertips slide down to brush against the bare skin at my throat, feeling the flutter of my pulse there. “Please, Sparrow. Please.”
Clearing my throat, I look away from him, staring at the bare walls of the stairwell.
I know what it’s like to be in his position. I grew up in foster care, and it taught me a lot about choosing between shitty options, which is exactly what Gray had to do—he had to choose between two terrible choices, and he chose the one he thought was the lesser of two evils.
He grips my chin, turning my gaze back to him so he can search my eyes.
“Please…”
He murmurs the word again, and it’s the heartbreak in his voice that breaks through the wall of ice around my heart. Maybe he doesn’t deserve another chance, but fuck it. I told him once that people don’t always get what they deserve, and maybe that’s not always a bad thing.
“I believe you, Gray,” I say quietly.
Something flares in his eyes, hotter and more intense than just relief. He crushes his lips to mine in a bruising kiss, but before I can lose myself in the feel of him again, I press hard against his chest, breaking the connection between our lips.
“But,” I add, “if you’re really on my side, you need to prove it.”
It’s the same thing I told Declan and Elias. And I mean it just as much now as I did then.
He seems content with that answer, giving me a nod and a soft smile before pressing his lips to mine again. It starts as a simple press of our lips, but that only lasts a few seconds before it morphs into something more.
His kiss is maddening, consuming, possessing.
He kisses me with a claim that says mine, a promise that says protect, and my whole body burns for him as I grasp the back of his neck with my hand and pull him closer.
When we break apart for air, my head is still spinning, but my body feels grounded. My soul feels fucking grounded for once. I’m on solid footing for the first time in weeks.
Somehow, we manage to untangle our bodies and straighten our clothes. I half glance at the clock on my phone and realize tha
t the class I was worried about being late to is almost over. Whoops. Even if it was worth it to slip into the back and catch the tail end of a lecture, there’s no fucking way I’m going to after what happened.
Gray seems to have the same thought, because he threads his fingers through mine and leads me out of the stairwell and across the quiet campus toward his dorm building.
On our way, I shoot a text to Declan and Elias, telling them to meet us there. They respond immediately, thinking something is wrong, but I reassure them in another quick text.
ME: Everything’s okay. Just come ASAP.
Since Gray and I have hashed shit out, the next order of business is telling his friends. I’ve grown more close to Elias and Declan since I’ve been spending less time with Gray, and I’m not just going to leave them guessing about everything.
A few minutes after Gray and I get back to his dorm, Elias and Declan show up. As soon as I open the door, they surge inside, their gazes immediately scanning me to see if I’ve been hurt before locking on Gray with twin glares.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, man?” Declan demands. “I told you to stay the hell away from her.”
I almost feel guilty for the furious looks Declan and Elias are giving him, but they’re doing it because they promised me they would—they promised me that they were on my side.
I don’t want them to be on my side though… well, not just on my side. No matter how shitty these past few weeks have been for me, I know they’ve been shitty for Declan and Elias too. For Gray. I hate that there’s a rift between these three men. It feels unnatural somehow, like there’s something fundamentally wrong with a world in which the Sinners aren’t a unit. A team.
“I’m sorry.” Gray’s shoulders are rigid, but his voice is honest and quiet. “I did what I had to do.”
Before Elias or Declan can protest, I put a hand on each of their chests. Declan presses against my palm a little, like he’s thinking about fucking Gray up anyway, but I catch his gaze and shake my head. “Listen to him. Just listen, okay?”
Tension lingers in the air as Gray explains everything he already told me—how Cliff threatened to ruin me if I didn’t leave, how he’s been building fabricated evidence against me to link me to Melissa McAlister’s death.