Page 49 of Manhattan Heart

“Oh, my god, let’s see!” Exclaims Catie.

“Hells no.”

“Aww, come on. I showed Gabby when Ronan sent me a dirty text, didn’t I?”

Gabby who’s carrying three glasses of wine, grabs a seat after handing them out. “Yeah, and now I can’t look him in the eye after I saw what he wanted to do with his monster schlong.”

Catie fans her face dreamily. “He followed through too.”

I don’t care, no one is seeing what my Gray is writing to me. And though I love it… god, my whole sex is clenched and wet, needing him to give me that hard fuck he described. Need it desperately to the point I’m seriously thinking of going into the bathroom and taking care of the ache between my legs.

Though I love his dirty talk, I’m supposed to be keeping his heart rate on a steady level, not making it explode.

India:Sugar D, you know you’re on a sex ban, so think of something else. The garden, or the puppies. How are my babies?

Gray:Enjoy girl’s night.

Oh, yeah. He’s mad.

Which is bizarre because I’ve never seen Gray have an unkind word for anyone. He treats his parents and siblings with respect. He’s great with his friends. Not to mention the pedestal he has me on.

I don’t know if I’m afraid of this new morose Gray or turned the fuck on.

The whole night, though I text him sporadically to see how he is, he doesn’t send me one pic of him and the boys. He’s definitely mad. But he’s waiting up for me when I get home just after eleven after we drop a tired Sena off at home and I make sure her waddling ass is delivered back to Noah.

I climb into bed.

Though the TV is on, some news channel turned down low, he’s hardly watching it.

I glance over to him, he has his back pressed to the headboard, his legs out in front of him and the thin cotton blanket bunched around his waist. I know beneath the cover he’s only wearing white boxer briefs. The rest of him is gloriously tanned skin. His incision is covered and it always gives me a jolt to my own chest to recall what happened.

“Did you have fun with the girls?”

“Yeah, but I missed being home with you,” he half smiles at me and I feel myself melt. “Does that make me soft?”

“Maybe a little. I like you soft.”

For some reason his admission makes me shy and I amnota shy woman. Not in any way. “Come here, sweetheart.” He holds out his arm for me to burrow into. When I do, he kisses so softly on my temple. “I missed you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Me and the boys crashed out on the sofa watching a Netflix documentary and we sulked missing you.”

“Gray,” I chuckle. “You’re beyond cute.”

“Cute enough for a kiss?”

Hot as tar, my insides constrict my airways. I’m already on his mouth when I speak. “I have all the kisses for my man.” When his tongue tip moves against the slit of my lips, I open immediately and he comes inside. It’s a slow, leisurely tasting of tongues. A gentle, all-consuming kiss that goes on and on until we both need to breathe. Even then, he stays in touching distance, nuzzling my mouth.

Moving his nose along mine.

He smells crazily good, better than he ever has.

I think my hormones are heightened or something because I want to sit on his face and make him take me over by suffocating him.

It’s like sex is constantly on my mind now that we’re not doing it.

“You’re flushed.” He rasps, “something you want to share with your man?”

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