Sweet Surrender(30)

A moan built deep in her chest, welled in her throat, until it escaped in a sound of sweet agony. The tension between them that had, over the last few days, built into an enormous entity, exploded in a rush of molten lava.

She moved her hands in front, down his chest until she tugged at his shirt. She wanted to feel his bare flesh. Impatiently, she yanked until it came free from his jeans. Then she slid her fingers under the hem and pressed her hands to his stomach.

He flinched, his mouth stilling over hers. Her hands worked higher, gliding over the muscles of his chest, shoving his shirt upward.

His fingers dug into her head, and his thumbs brushed over her cheeks. There was strength in his touch. A strength she craved, needed, wanted so badly she ached.

She whimpered against his lips when they didn’t resume the passionate kiss but instead remained still. His body tensed underneath her fingers, the muscles rippling across his chest.

“Gray,” she whispered.

He pulled away and closed his eyes. A harsh expletive danced in the air between them, souring the moment. His hands fell away from her, and he pushed himself upward, tension rolling off of him like sand pouring from a bucket.

His palm crept to the back of his neck, and he rubbed up and down in agitation. “God, Faith, I’m sorry. That should have never happened.”

She looked at him in confusion. “Sorry? I wanted it to happen. You wanted it to happen. I don’t see what you have to be sorry about.”

He stalked around the desk, pausing in the middle of the floor, his movements jerky and indecisive. Then he turned to look at her. His eyes blazed with a multitude of emotions. Desire still flamed brightly, so she knew it wasn’t a matter of him not wanting what had happened. But there was also regret, and—self-loathing?

“This shouldn’t have happened,” he said with a shake of his head. “I took advantage of you in a weak moment. What kind of asshole does that make me?”

She rose from her seat. Her knees trembled, and she placed her palms down on the desk to steady herself. “We’ve been working up to this point for the last several days. You know it, and I know it. It was as inevitable as breathing. Don’t tell me it shouldn’t have happened when I know damn well you wanted it as much as I did.”

“Wanted it?” He gave a short, barking laugh. “Hell, Faith, I want you so bad, I ache. But it shouldn’t have happened. I never should have let it.”

With that, he turned and stalked out of her office, leaving her to ponder the sheer oddity of his statement.

She sagged back into her chair, her emotions a rioting mess. Her gaze flickered over to the telephone cord, and she heaved a sigh. Pushing herself upward, she went over to retrieve the cord she’d yanked in her fit of rage. No telling how many calls she’d missed while she was trading heavy breathing with Gray.

After fumbling with the cord for a few seconds, she replaced it in the wall socket then glanced uneasily back at the phone, hoping to hell it didn’t ring. When the silence remained unbroken, her shoulders folded in relief.

This had to end. This constant stress over her mother’s calls had to stop. Would Celia finally get the message and stop trying to contact Faith? She doubted it, but then she’d never stood up to her mother in the past. This had to be as shocking to Celia as it was to Faith.

You have a life. You owe her nothing. You’re finally crawling out of your shell and embracing your wants and needs. Don’t screw it all up now.

As pep talks went, it wasn’t the best, but there wasn’t an untruthful word in it. She did have a life. One she was content with. She was finally spreading her wings and stepping out of the shadows of her past. Finally reaching for what she wanted. Finally unafraid to confront a side of herself that she’d long denied existed.

Maybe Gray wasn’t what she needed. Maybe what she wanted was out there, just out of reach, but close. Maybe she’d find it tonight. She wouldn’t know until she took the leap.

Feeling moderately calmer after her earlier fit of rage, she squared her shoulders and made a silent vow to herself. She wasn’t going to let her mother pull her down again.





CHAPTER 13




G ray parked his truck outside the office and cut the engine. It was late. Ten o’clock on a Friday night. Everyone likely had plans that didn’t involve being anywhere near the business office. Which was why he was back.

He slid out of the truck and looked warily right and left. He hadn’t bothered to park around back, because if he was seen, he didn’t want to appear as though he had anything to hide. If Pop or one of the others happened by, he could always say he’d forgotten something.