Page 73 of Manhattan Heart

“I think that might be the best way I’ve ever woken,” I tell him, only to watch the left side of his mouth twitch up with a devilish grin. I answer it with my own before returning my face to his collar bone, not finished snuggling him yet. I feel him soften inside me, not ready to let him go from there either.

“Mm…how is it you can sex me up all night and this morning and you still smell like a sexy bastard?” My nose travels across his pulse point, sniffing all the Gray goodness.

He just gives a grunt in reply.

Gray after sex is always monosyllabic for a few minutes and I love that side of him. Because it means he’s been so into what we were sharing together, that his brain becomes a little dumb.

He’s so fucking adorable.

I guess you could say the sex ban is well and truly lifted.

I’m going to worry. I can’t help that. By nature I am a worrier. If there’s something to worry over then it’s a guarantee I’m already thinking about it. And Gray can’t assume I won’t still monitor him like I’m his personal nurse. The dirty, sweet boy would probably love it anyway.

With my arms wrapped around his back, I can feel his heart thumping steadily through my chest and under my hands cuddling him close.

The vibration calms me. I always want to feel his heart under my hands.

Gray is my heart.

He’s every good part of me and forever will be.

There’s that saying how the other half of you makes you a better person.

That’s truly the case about Gray.

His love for me is endless and mine is twice as long for him.

I dread to think what kind of place I’d be in if not for him finding me.

I know it wouldn’t be any sane state of mind.

Being India the party girl, who didn’t have a care in the world according to the personality I presented, was not in a good place at all.

“You’re thinking loudly.” He says, finding his words again.

Ah, there my man is. Always thinking of me. We clash eyes and smile at the same time when I cup the side of his face, stubble tickling my palm.

He truly is the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Seriously, he ages like Benjamin Button.

“Thinking about you actually.”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? I like that. What were you thinking?”

“Maybe we should discuss it in the shower…”

His eyes flare and just like that, I feel him growing hard against my hip.

For a man with a newly fixed heart, he sure does move fast as he hauls ass out of the bed and drags me with me, laughing the whole way to the bathroom.

* * *

Gray

India is either going to love me hard for this.

Or kill me viciously.

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