Page 7 of Gray’s Surrender

“I remember.”

“You’ve been trying not to look since.”

“I looked.”

“When?”

“All week.”

His voice roughens. That’s somehow more appealing than any smooth line another man could offer me. I touch the edge of his black shirt near his waist. “Do you see why inventing club errands wasn’t very convincing?”

“Wasn’t meant to convince you.”

“Who, then?”

“Me.”

I slide my fingers higher, over the solid heat of his stomach, and his body reacts immediately. Gray catches my wrist, but he doesn’t remove my hand.

“Meg.”

“You keep saying my name like a warning.”

“It is.”

Those two words should cool me. Instead, his grip tightens slightly and his eyes return to my mouth. “No,” I agree. “This is you wanting your best friend’s sister and trying to stand still until it goes away.”

“Twelve years between us Meg.”

“I also threw up on Tank when I was little, and he managed to accept that I became an adult.”

Gray’s mouth shifts.

“Did you almost smile?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Meg.”

“There it is again, that warning.”

I catch the front of his T-shirt and pull, but this time Gray meets me halfway. His mouth strikes mine with enough force to push the air from my lungs. One hand closes around the back of my neck. The other grips my hip, turns us and puts my back against the wall beside the kitchen door.

The impact is careful. The kiss is not. I open for him, and his tongue drives deep. He tastes of whiskey, rain and everything he refused yesterday. His beard scrapes my chin as I drag him closer by his shirt. Gray presses his body along mine. Broad chest, hard thighs, the unmistakable length of him against my stomach. Heat gathers fast between my legs. I make a sound into his mouth. His hand slides from my hip to my ass and lifts. I wrap one leg around him, then the other, and Gray pins me to the wall with his body.

Whatever restraint he had tears wider as he kisses down the side of my neck, mouth hot and rough against my pulse. I grip the short hair at the back of his head. Gray groans against my skin, then catches my lower lip between his teeth when he comes back to my mouth.

“Still worried about twelve years?” I whisper.

He thrusts once against the place where my shorts have ridden high. Pleasure cuts through me. “Not right now.”

“Good.”

I roll my hips. Gray’s fingers bite into my thigh as he kisses me harder, suddenly, the hallway floor creaks.

We both stop. It’s just the creak of the house settling. Ruby’s door remains still at the end of the dark hall, but the sound spooks him. Gray lowers me until my feet touch the floor, then keeps one forearm braced beside my head while he fights for breath. My body throbs with frustration. “If you tell me this was a mistake, I’ll hurt you.”