Page 67 of Only for Love

He lets out a long, harsh sigh. “And thank fuck for that.”

“I’ve never understood how we work like we do.”

“But we do…” The rawness in his voice cuts me deep. “Forget the obvious—that you’re beautiful and sexier than the dirtiest dream of a destroyed man. Emma, you have a good heart. That’s your thing. That’syou. Some things don’t change, baby. You always believed in love. You grew up with the perfect example, the perfect family.”

True.

“Our path isn’t pretty, and maybe we’re still hovering near the starting point, but I’m the man you’re supposed to be with.”

Butterflies beat in my chest. “But it’s not just me, Gray.”

His eyes darken. “I have to live with that for the rest of my life, but you better believe I’ll spend it making it up to her. To both of you.”

I’m in his arms, floating as if this is a dream. “That’s a lot to promise.”

“Ever heard me say something I don’t mean?”

I shake my head.

“I love you, Ems.”

He kisses my cheek, his stubble scratching against me in a way so manly, so sexy, I moan. It just slips out. I hadn’t even been appreciating the masculine beauty I’m pancaked on top of. I was too busy falling in love over and over again.

“Besides loving you more than you can imagine,” he whispers roughly, “I’m laying claim to this dangerous body too, baby.”

A heat wave rolls through me. I’m suddenly hyperaware of how his jeans are the last layer before he’s naked on my couch. Though my super-sexy flannel pajamas might put a damper on his interest level.

“I look pretty hot in my jammies, huh?”

“Wouldn’t be us if one of us weren’t downplaying.” His mouth runs from my cheek to my ear. “Let me be really clear. I stripped you near-naked in your kitchen. I’d tear this off you this second if I didn’t think there was the slightest chance you’d run.”

“I’m not going to run.”

Shivers run down my arms when his lips dip onto my neck, his tongue dragging down. My body hums as the mood shifts. We’ve had somber, remorseful, flirty, and now this. Arousal hangs heavy in the crackling air. Tension I can’t deny squeezes us together.

His lips tease my neck. “Feels good?”

“Yes.” I moan as he shifts to get a better angle.

“Taste good too.”

Everything is different from high school. He’s harsher, stronger, more confident. His erection strains in his jeans, and he cups my cheek, his thumb toying with my lip. Each minute passes by slowly. His green eyes darkened, an emerald fire blasting under his blond eyelashes. If I were to picture desire, it would be his face watching me now.

He drops his hand down my chin, around my neck. The rough calluses on his hands grate over my skin, and it’s erotic. Grayson studies my reactions, my mews, the way my head tilts and my back arches. His eyes fall to my lips as my breathing stills, and when his hand smooths down my chest, caressing the swell of my breasts, longing ignites deep below my stomach.

“Beautiful, Ems.”

In his arms, I believe it. Unlike on the stage where I dance for dollars, this is the truth. I know it in a way that doesn’t matter anywhere else on Earth. “I’ve always been yours. Don’t hurt me again.”

“Promise.”

His hand heads south, and my fingers move to his neck and spear into his thick hair. A groan that I remember from years ago falls from his lips as my fingernails scratch into his scalp.

He closes his eyes, quietly sucking in a breath. “You do good things to me.”

His mouth hovers over mine. I feel the softness of his warm breath on my lips. I can almost feel him, almost taste him. I close my eyes. This exact feeling is how I remembered him, so close it would kill me, so close I nearly drove myself insane every Wednesday.

His lips find mine, and he’s hungry. One second of softness morphed into a beast. He’s over me, his mouth eating at mine, his hands running harshly over me. I love it, need it. I crave him as though he’s my drug of choice.

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