Page 203 of Breaking Point
I look…happy.
My hair is mused, my cheeks flushed and my eyes glowing. I also see the moment that I realize I ordered food and they probably tried to deliver it while I was being railed.
Cursing, I move from the bathroom, opening the hotel door a crack. My eyes trail down to the floor and our now cold food sitting there.
Blowing out a breath, I quickly snatch the tray before kicking the door shut behind me.
“We forgot about the food.”
Grayson slowly rolls onto his back with a slight flinch of pain, but he grins. “Iate.”
My eyes flare at the reminder of Grayson between my thighs.
Before he can see how much that turns me on and makes me want to beg for round two, I pick up the phone, avoiding his eyecontact as I ask for them to send up a bucket of ice and a heat pack.
“What are you doing?” Grayson asks dubiously as I hang up.
“You took care of me. Now it’s my turn to take care of you.”
The look he gives me makes my heart melt into a puddle at his feet.
“Can part of that be you getting back in bed?”
I pointedly stare him down. “You’re injured.”
“Doesn’t take a lot of physical work to cuddle you.”
That has me straightening. I can’t remember the last time a man wanted to cuddle me after sex. I didn’t even know they did that.
“I can see your mind working a mile a minute. Just come lie down.”
As if his voice has command over me, my feet are moving before I tell them to and I’m on the bed. Grayson spreads his arm out to the side and I nestle into the crook of his body, laying my head down on his chest. I wrap an arm around his waist, careful not to touch the bruises forming.
“I’m going to have to get up for the ice,” I whisper after it’s been silent for a couple of minutes, my body already melting into his touch as he draws lazy patterns on my arm and back.
“I’ll take whatever time you give me, Blaze,” he whispers gutturally.
He has no idea that if he wanted to, he could keep me. That my heart has been running to his since the moment we met and I can’t keep them apart much longer.
It’s ringing in my ears now as my hands begin to shake a little. My mouth is suddenly dry because the words are forming on my tongue, pounding along my throat as they climb up.
It was never fake for me either.
My lips part on the confession. “It was never?—”
A pound comes at the door just as a shrill ring fills the hotel room. I flinch at the sudden intrusion. Grayson slides out of the bed, finding his own robe in the cupboard as he calls out, “I’ll get the ice.”
Rolling over, I snatch my phone off the nightstand. Sopreoccupied with my anxious thoughts of how close I came to saying those words to him, I don’t check to see who’s calling as I swipe.
Or why they’re calling me at three in the morning.
“Hello, Bella speaking.”
The hotel room door closes.
Grayson is speaking.
The person on the other line, the voice I’ve heard since I was a little girl playing in the backyard with her daughter, fills my ears but the words…
