Twisted(127)

Not caring, because he was inside her. Filling her up. Making her forget that anything existed except the two of them.

Still pulsing, she gasped as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as his body bucked and shuddered and hammered into hers. “God, yes. Come on me. Keep coming.”

“Oh yes.” She couldn’t stop. She rode him like a wild thing, driven to wring out every drop of bliss. There seemed to be no end to the amount of times she could reach that pinnacle while he held back. Unlike her, he obviously had enough patience to spur her on to new heights for the sheer joy of watching her fly.

The harder he shook, the more demanding he became. He wanted more. Always more.

His control finally snapped, and she held on tight as he thrust one last time. And crushed her mouth to his to capture the unforgettable sound of him letting go.

* § *

He let her sleep for as long as he could.

As the day waned, Gray stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers and tried to memorize every one of her features. The tiny dark mole above her upper lip, the spray of freckles over her nose. Her mouth formed a flawless bow, and without lipstick, it was a rosy pink like her cheeks. Even in sleep she was glowing. His stubble burn marred her jaw and neck, but it only made her more beautiful.

His gaze lowered to the guitar pick nestled in the notch of her collarbone. So much of their history existed in such a small, seemingly insignificant item. Her laughter and tears, his love and longing. He traced it with his fingertip, trying to imprint this moment on his mind for the endless days ahead. She would always be the most shining, perfect thing in his life, and he couldn’t be anything but grateful that they’d had this time together. Whatever lay beyond today, he’d shared this with her, and no one would ever be able to take it away from him.

From either of them.

His gaze dropped to the hand beside her cheek and the ring on her finger. That symbol of what he felt for her was worth any penance. When he’d been lying on the concrete, his body in agony, his mind in turmoil, he’d still carried the light from loving her inside him. It was like a lantern, beating back the dark.

No matter how apart they traveled, he would never let the light go out.

She stirred, her eyelashes fluttering. Slowly, she smiled. “You’re watching me sleep again.”

“Busted.” He shifted more fully onto his good side and swallowed the grunt of pain at the pull in his shoulder. Small favors that the bulk of his injuries were to his left side and he was right-handed. The bastards who’d fucked him up must’ve just gotten unlucky. He seriously doubted they’d spared his playing side.

She sat up and fussed at his shirt, smoothing it over his arm. “Your doctor told me you’re supposed to wear a sling to help manage the pain.”

“You talked to my doctor?”

Her eyebrow winged up. “What do you think?”

He smiled and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her lip. “I think you’re going to make one hell of a wife someday.”

He hadn’t meant to say it. Not to mention the statement itself sounded kind of sexist. Damn, he’d been hanging around with Nick way too much.

At least that’d be over for a while.

She frowned and he braced for the storm sure to come. “What do you mean someday?” She held up her hand. “See this? I’m not waiting until I’ve gone gray.”

His mouth quirked. “You went Gray years ago.”

“Ha ha. I’m serious. If you think I’m down for some long-ass engagement—”

“We have to talk.” He sat up and bit the inside of his cheek to avoid squealing like a little girl. Goddamn shoulder. The ribs weren’t much better.

“So talk.”

He glanced back to where she sat against the headboard, arms crossed, mouth sulky. “Hear me out.”

“I’m listening.”

“With less than half an ear.” He stroked his eyebrow ring. “I’m leaving for a while.”

She didn’t say anything for so long that he looked back to find her staring at him, all the color in her cheeks gone. Her eyes were so huge and startlingly blue that his breath tripped before evening out again. “This is your home. We’re your family.”

“My family…Jesus, were you ever going to tell me about Brent?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She tugged up the sheet then pushed it down again. “Yeah, I was, but I chose a different timetable than you would’ve probably picked. But I had a good reason.”

“You were afraid of sending me into a spiral.”

Once again, she grew silent.

He nodded, unsurprised. “Figured as much. That’s another reason I have to do this.”