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Twisted(67)

By:Cari Quinn


“Open them,” he prompted.

Nodding, she shifted toward the tree and tugged the gift bag into her lap. She laughed at what she found inside. “An industrial bag of Skittles?” she asked, secretly thrilled he’d paid that much attention to her snack of choice.

“Taste the rainbow,” he said solemnly, making her laugh even harder.

She moved on to the next biggest box, opening it swiftly before it vanished. She couldn’t believe he’d given her so much. Her mouth dropped open as she peeled open the tissue paper inside and dragged out his battered white Stratocaster, his favorite of his two guitars. “Gray. You can’t give me this.”

“Sure I can. It’s mine to give away.” He leaned back on his hands and gave her his insolent smile. He had a whole range of smiles and she’d categorized them all. Insolent was one of her favorites. “Especially since I know I have a brand-new Epiphone waiting for me under that tree.”

“But this is your baby—”

“It’s a guitar. I can make any of them sing.”

She couldn’t argue with that. His magic hands had given her many moments of pause—and even more hot moments alone in her bed when she couldn’t stop imagining them on her skin. “Thank you,” she whispered, unable to say more.

“You’re welcome. Now open the last one.”

“This is too much already.”

Lifting his brows, he gestured. “You don’t want my gift? You’d hurt my feelings on Christmas?”

“Cheater.” Smiling faintly, she carefully set aside his prized Stratocaster—her prized Stratocaster now—and dug into the largest box. When she pulled off the paper and glimpsed the contents, she fell back on her heels again with a loud thump. “Oh my God.”

Grinning, Gray snapped a picture of her face. “Now that’s the expression I wanted. None of this tame happy stuff. I wanted ecstatic, blown away, completely stupefied.”

“You succeeded.” She stroked her hand over the box that contained a Mapex M Birch 6-piece drum set, the very set he’d caught her ogling in Bradley’s Music Shop just last month. It was way out of her price range and took up a ton of room. “Oh man, where am I going to put it?”

“In the basement with my gear. We’re tricking out a whole Krystal Sword practice area.”

“But I don’t know how to play the drums. I’ve never even tried to.”

“So you’ll learn. You pick up every instrument in a nanosecond. Why do you think I bought you these? Otherwise you’d be kicking my ass on the guitar in no time.”

She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he laughed and gripped her waist. “Thank you. Oh God, I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

He brushed her hair out of her eyes, his fingers lingering on her temple. “That smile just did.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Now



Getting the munchies at five a.m. when you really wanted nothing more than another hour’s sleep and a quickie freaking sucked.

Jazz threw her legs over the side of the bed and winced. Yeah, so maybe a quickie wasn’t the best idea. She’d had so much longie the night before that her vagina threatened to file a formal protest.

A smile snuck over her face as she glanced at Gray over her shoulder. He slept on his back with the sheets pooled around his waist and his arm thrown over his face. No wonder he’d finally crashed. Her thigh muscles were still trembling from how hard they’d gone at each other. She hadn’t known it was physically possible to have sex for that long. It certainly wasn’t something she was familiar with. Her previous max had been twice in one night, and even that was as rare as the dodo bird. Most guys just rolled over and that was it.

But not Gray. He just went…and went…and went. He’d fucked her a good three times before he’d even come, for God’s sake. Which made his losing it on his lap while eating her out the night before even more adorable. Clearly the guy had the stamina of ten men, so if he’d gotten that turned on by going down on her—

She grinned. Yeah, she’d just float on that knowledge for a year or two.

Biting her lip, she rose and hobbled over to the armoire. She pulled out one of the robes and wrapped herself in the decadent terrycloth, brushing her nose along the collar. She’d forever associate that faint cinnamon scent with Gray and lovemaking from now on.

Hell, who was she kidding? She’d associate everything with Gray and lovemaking. Hot tubs, terrycloth robes, silky sheets rubbing over her naked torso while she slept. He’d slept nude for years but she never had before the last two nights, with him.