Page 127 of Eight Count Heat
Later, as we prepare to leave, Victoria pulls me aside in the foyer.
"I like you," she says simply. "More importantly, you're good for Gray. Don't let our parents or anyone else convince you otherwise."
"Thank you," I reply, genuinely touched. "That means a lot."
"Gray's spent too many years trying to be perfect for everyone else. It's nice to see him actually happy for once." She glances toward the door where Gray is saying goodbye to his parents. "Take care of each other, okay?"
“We will,” I say lamely. She pats me on the shoulder before making her way to Gray, roughing up his hair as she passes him by. I feel a small pang of jealousy in the pit of my stomach, wishing I could have a sibling relationship like that with either one of my brothers.
As me and Gray make our way to his car, I glance sideways at him in his casual khakis and button-down, still looking slightly rumpled from his impromptu swim. The man who threw himself into a pond to protect my secret. The man who has promised to give me even more than that if I ask him to. The man whose sister just accepted me more readily than my own family ever has.
How did everything between us change so quickly?
chapter THIRTY-FIVE
Gray
The drive from myparents' estate to campus is an hour on a good day. Tonight, with Reese beside me smelling like honey and sunshine and sex, it might as well be a thousand miles.
I pull away from the house, hands gripping the wheel with unnecessary force as I try to focus on the winding mountain road. Beside me, Reese shifts in her seat, her breathing already labored despite our encounter in the powder room.
"How bad?" I ask, glancing at her.
"Bad," she admits. "Worse than before."
"Can you hang on until we get back to campus?"
She laughs, the sound tight with strain. "Do I have a choice?"
"Always," I say, more seriously than I intended. "There's always a choice, Reese."
She turns to look at me, expression softening despite the fever-bright eyes. "I know. And I'm here, aren't I?"
The simple statement sends a rush of satisfaction through me that's more potent than it should be. I reach over, taking her hand in mine, our fingers interlacing naturally.
"We'll be there soon," I promise.
She nods, then glances at the speedometer. "You know, we'd get there faster if you didn't drive like my grandmother."
I shoot her an incredulous look. "I'm doing seventy in a fifty-five zone."
"My point exactly." Her free hand lands on my thigh, high enough to make my breath catch. "Gray Lockwood, always in control, always following the rules."
"Someone has to," I manage, hyperaware of her fingers tracing lazy patterns against the fabric of my pants.
"And what happens when you don't?" Her hand inches higher. "When you let go of all that perfect control?"
I swallow hard, forcing my eyes to stay on the road. "You might not want to find out."
"But what if I do?" Her voice drops lower, husky with heat and something darker. "What if that's exactly what I want?"
Her hand reaches its destination, palm pressing firmly against the length of me, already hard and straining against my zipper. A groan escapes me before I can stop it.
"Reese," I warn, the name half-plea, half-command.
"Gray," she mimics, squeezing lightly through my pants.
With anyone else, I might suspect alcohol or hormones driving reckless behavior. But even in the throes of heat, there's something deliberate about Reese's actions. A calculated challenge.
