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His fists clench. “I can’t do this. Staying away. I can’t...” A full-body shiver wracks him. “I n-need you... I’m through being...considerate...”
He’s shivering so badly, his teeth clatter.
“Shhh. Gray. You’re freezing. Come here.”
Worried, I take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. He lets me tug him along, his steps wooden.
“Take off your shoes and socks,” I tell him once we’re in my room. And he does, never moving his pained gaze off me.
“Ivy...”
I pull his sodden shirt free. In the soft light of the table lamp, his torso is pale and prickled with cold.
“Let’s get these things off first,” I murmur.
Together we tackle his jeans, our fingers tangling. Gray pushes everything off, down to the buff. I don’t look. I can’t right now. My eyes stay on his shoulders as I lead him to my bed, lifting the down comforter up so he can slide in.
Fully dressed, I follow and pull him close. Instantly, he wraps an arm around my waist and burrows his face into the crook of my neck. I get cold just holding him, and I tuck the covers tighter around us.
“Of all the irresponsible...” I murmur, my hand rubbing soothing circles over his broad back and down his arms to get his blood flowing. “You’re half frozen.”
Gray grunts, his grip on me tight. The cold wet of his hair seeps through my shirt. But he’s getting warmer.
It feels so good to hold him. The low place in my belly that has been hard and pained eases. Then awareness sets in, the heavy weight of his arm along my waist, of how he’s completely naked, wrapped around me, his thick thigh pushed between mine.
I touch a damp strand of his hair. “I should have gotten you a towel.”
Slowly he stirs, and then his breath gusts against the sensitive skin at my neck. “I should move. But I don’t want to.”
He sounds so petulant, like a boy in threat of losing his favorite toy, that my lips tremble on a smile. “Oh sure, get me all wet. I don’t mind.”
Gray makes a strangled noise, and a weak laugh escapes him. “Oh, Mac, so many things I could do with that. It’s almost too easy.”
A furious blush hits my cheeks as I realize what I’ve said. But I find myself snickering against his temple. The urge to kiss his forehead makes me bite my lip.
“I’ve missed you, Gray.”
He lifts his head. His thick lashes are clumped together with damp. “You told me to stay away.”
“I didn’t mean all the time,” I say, still stung.
“Truth, Ivy? I can’t be around you and not think of what we did together. Not want to talk about it.”
That quickly, all the confusion and fear I’ve been feeling surges like an incoming tide. The need for escape has me breaking free from his hold and jumping out of bed.
From the corner of my eye, I see Gray lurch up. His hard, irate voice follows. “Don’t you dare run again, Ivy.”
“I’m not running...” My words die on my tongue because Gray is out of bed and stalking toward me and, sweet mother...
Wide shoulders, flat-packed muscles leading down to a narrow waist—he’s so gorgeous my knees go weak. His massive thighs bunch and shift with each hard step, his cock hanging thick and heavy between them.
Out of breath, I lean against the wall to keep from toppling. But he doesn’t notice. His gaze burns bright and angry. He walks right up to me, not stopping until he’s caged me in, bracing his arms on either side of my head. And then I see it isn’t anger in his eyes, but desperation.
His voice comes out soft but insistent. “Looks like running away to me.”
God, he’s too close. I can’t think. My breath comes out choppy, my breasts nearly brushing the taut wall of his chest. “Gray, get back in bed—”
“Only if you come with me,” he rasps, his gaze roaming my face. But the bluish tinge of his lips worries me.
