The Rules Regarding Gray (22 page)

She sat in the lounge chair nearby. “I took one last night.”

He stared at her without lifting his head from its downward angle to the pool. “Running away from me into a bottle of Vicodin.”

She said nothing for a moment. “And yet, I clearly recall the most interesting dream about…” She chuckled softly.

“Me humping your ass?” He finally stopped scooping, looking at her full on.

“Something like that.”

He laughed, returning to his leaves. “My coffee is there on the side table next to you if you want some, and I’ll run in and get you your own in a minute.”

She sat on a lounge chair and watched him for a moment. She didn’t seem upset with him, but she seemed … nervous, unsure. He finally joined her, sitting at the foot of the lounger.

“Are you able to get your ankle wet?”

She nodded. “There’s only three very small incisions, and the sutures are nearly dissolved at this point.”

“Good. I want you to take a swim with me then.”

She stared at him for a moment, and then her eyes shifted down to her dress.

“You should be better prepared the next time you kidnap someone. I’m wearing the only clothes I have.”

“Clothes are a highly overrated accessory,” he said sarcastically.

She laughed, and then she bobbled her head. “They’re considered more of a necessity than an accessory… Yeah.” She shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. I just live by those conventional mores of society—you know. Like clothes.”

He was laughing then, relieved as hell to see her sense of humor returning. She was doing okay. That was good. He needed her to be doing okay, because he didn’t have a clue how to deal with any of this if she wasn’t.

“Then we’ll swim in our skivvies. Underwear and bra are as good as a bikini.”

“Too bad I don’t wear bras.” She shrugged. “You’re striking out here.”

He scooted up to sit beside her then, smiling down at her. He let his fingers wander up under the skirt of her sundress slowly, pushing the skirt up. “If it makes you feel better, I won’t wear a bra either.” He winked, and she smiled. “Now lift that ass of yours, so I can get this sundress off you.”

She planted her hands on the seat, pushing her body off the surface just enough that he could get the skirt of the dress up past her bottom and waist, and then he stripped it over her head, leaving her in nothing but her simple white cotton underwear. Her nipples were taut already, and he focused on them for a moment as she watched him nervously.

He started un-bandaging her lower right leg, and when he glanced to her eyes, they were wide and she was gnawing on the inside of her lip. She was terrified. He stood, looking down on her as he undid his jeans and pulled them off, leaving himself in his black boxer-briefs. He sat down again and looked at her. “When can you put weight on it?” He was really just trying to give her something other than their near nudity to focus on.

“I have an appointment tomorrow, and they’re going to fit me for a splint that will flatten out my foot. Then I have to wear that for a few days, and then they’ll put me in a boot to start physical therapy.” Her eyebrows cocked up as she looked up at him.

He nodded. “Can I take you to your appointment tomorrow?”

“Seeing as you are my ride back to the city.” Her voice was a little too quiet to sell the sarcasm, and her eyes trailed down his body nervously.

He smirked.

She nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that,” She said before she bit her lower lip.

When he scooped her up in his arms, she squealed in surprise, and then he walked with her to the stairs that led down into the shallow end of his pool. The water was cool but comfortable, and as he sank into it, she sighed. He moved her body, so she was straddling his hips, and then came the torture again.

Having her sex that close to his was more than tormenting. Her nipples brushing his chest at the same time? That was just agony. He was hard against her groin, and as she took a deep breath and watched him, he used the hand he had at her lower back to hold that place closer to him. He looked down, watching her nipples toy with his skin. He reached for the front of her throat with his free hand, resting his thumb on one side of her graceful slim neck and his four fingers on the other side, and then he pushed her back.

Her fingers that gripped his upper arms tensed and held on for a moment, but as he pushed gently, she released her hold, and she arched her back. She was so flexible, and as she leaned back, her small hard nipples jutted up. She let her hair hang in the water, and she let her back arch farther and farther until her head was submerged to her hairline. She sighed, letting her arms float out beside her and relaxing her back into the water.

His hand was still on her neck, and he slowly let it glide down her sternum to that spot where her ribs pulled up in a peak. He stayed clear of her breasts, watching as the skin on those small round mounds popped with goose bumps, and she moaned a breathy contented sound. He worked his hand gently lower, feeling her tight stomach muscles ripple under his palm, and he stopped when he was at her lower belly.

The skin was soft there, the flesh underneath supple. However tight her stomach muscles were, this place wasn’t meant to be so tight. It was meant to grow. He could almost imagine her belly swelling, and as his hand massaged that skin over her womb, he became even more aroused. These weren’t his thoughts. He didn’t have these thoughts. But fucking hell, they were intoxicating.

When he pushed lower, her body trembled. He let his fingers flirt with the top of her underwear, gently brushing underneath. Her underwear were white, and he could see her pubic hair through the thin wet fabric, and when he glanced to her face, she was watching him, panting as she still relaxed back into the water.

He reached for her hands, pulling her up slowly as he sank lower into the water. He brought her up face to face with him, and she looked at his lips, pulling her lower one into her mouth.

“Do you forgive me?” he asked.

She looked up to his eyes. “Yes.”

He reached for her cheek, clutching it and wanting to pull her mouth to his. “I was upset with him. It was no reflection on you. But I know it hurt.”

She nodded.

He nuzzled against her neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she did the same. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He held her for a long time, and it was silent aside from the occasional sound of water splashing as they moved. She wasn’t
supposed
to care what he thought or said. He wasn’t
supposed
to need her forgiveness. None of this was
supposed
to matter. And as he held her silently, he was certain that fact was as glaringly obvious to her as it was to him. None of this was
supposed
to be happening.

When they finally got out, he grabbed her splint and wrap from the lounger and then carried her inside to his master bath. He set her on the side of the large soaker tub, and he handed her a towel. He pulled his own wet underwear off, tossing them in the bathtub, and then he patted his body dry and finally wrapped the towel around his waist.

She watched him like a hawk the entire time, and he chuckled as he caught her staring. “Stay there.”

“You’ve kind of left me little choice,” she commented sarcastically.

He laughed. “Well, I’m worried we’re going to get in another fight, and you’re going to try to run away from me.” He thought about that for a minute. “But I can’t say it wouldn’t be amusing to see you scooting that cute ass of yours across the floor in an attempt to flee.” He shrugged.

She shook her head. “I hate being incapacitated and helpless,” she complained, but she had a small smile on her face.

He left her to finish drying off and get her leg re-wrapped, and he collected her crutches from the patio before he returned to his bedroom. Then he riffled through his drawers for something, anything, that would fit this tiny little specimen of a person. He grabbed a couple things, and when he found her in the bathroom, her wet underwear were in the bathtub with his, her leg was re-wrapped, she was dry—aside from her messy mop of hair, and she was wrapped up in the towel.

He propped her crutches up against the bathtub, and he handed her the clothes. She held them up, her eyes bulging for a moment. And he walked away.

“Jas, what am I supposed to do with these?” she hollered after him, but he was already in the hallway, and he had no intention of answering anyway.

He smiled as he walked toward the kitchen, and he was chuckling as he pulled a pan out, heating it up on the stove. He was hungry. He was so ravenously starving for more things than breakfast, that he wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t take a bite out of her.

Chapter Twenty

Gray stood in front of the full-length mirror in Jasper’s bathroom, gaping at herself. He’d left her with a gray pair of boxer-briefs and a thin white sleeveless undershirt—nothing more than a tank top really. And now, she was standing with one hand on the bathroom counter, staring at herself.

She’d rolled the waist of the underwear down multiple times, which had kept them up but also made them exceptionally short. And there was no hiding her tits under the undershirt. She was swimming in it, and she knotted it at her waist, hoping that pulling forward more material to gather in front would help hide her nipples.

She looked like a tramp. In truth, she looked no worse than some of her practice clothes or even costumes, but she’d much rather look pretty than bare. She shook her head and grabbed her crutches, and when she made it out to the kitchen, she could smell something cooking.

She rounded the corner, and he was just scooping eggs onto two plates that already had toast on them. He stopped with the pan still held over one plate, and then he stared. He blew out an exaggerated breath after a moment. “Breakfast for lunch since you slept through the A.M. part of the day.”

She nodded. “Sorry ’bout that.”

He went back to eyeing her. “I knew my underwear would look fucking incredible on you. It’s settled. I’m hiding the sundress, so you’re forced to wear my underwear.

She smirked, and he finished with the eggs. She followed him to the dining room, and they ate in silence. It was a comfortable silence, and she settled back in her chair, munching on toast as he sipped his coffee.

She cleaned up as much as she could—which ultimately consisted of sitting on the counter next to the sink as he rinsed dishes and put them in the dishwasher, and when he looked up and had a long strand of his dark hair stuck in his eyelashes, he leaned over to her. She swept it away, and he paused close to her face for a moment. He sighed, and then he finished with the dishes.

As he dried his hands off, he stepped between her legs, and when he dropped the rag to the counter beside her, his eyes met hers. He leaned forward, moaning as his lips nearly touched hers, and then he leaned down to her neck, still just letting his lips occasionally graze her skin but never fully touching, certainly never kissing. He breathed against her neck, slowly pulling his mouth from her clavicle up to her ear.

“I want something,” he murmured.

“What?” she was nearly whispering.

He pulled back, watching her eyes for a moment. “I want to dance with you.”

She laughed softly. “I think my dancing days might be ov—”

“Not that kind of dancing.”

She stared at him, trying to breathe, trying to swallow, trying to restart her heart. She started panting, her lips parted like a buffoon as he calmly focused on her.

And when he spoke again, his voice was warm and seductive. “And the kind of dancing I want to do won’t involve your foot.” He studied her some more. “It will, however, involve touching…” He paused to watch her. “Kissing…” Another pause. “Licking…” Every word was followed by his intense eyes drilling into her. “Tasting… Sucking… Penetrating… Coming…”

She exhaled in a rush, and a whimper was carried with it. She nodded.

“Say yes.”

“Yes,” she breathed out.

“Say you understand exactly what we’re doing. No rules, Gray. That means I’m going to fuck you however the hell I want and tell your boyfriend to eat shit while I’m stretching that sweet pussy of yours.”

She nodded as a shaky exhalation rattled from her chest.

“Please fucking say it, sweetie. I need you to say it.”

“I understand.” The word got stuck in her throat, and she had to force it out.

He bit his lower lip. “Have you ever fucked without a condom?”

“No.”

He nodded slowly. “I haven’t either. I’ve never felt real wetness enveloping my cock.” He leaned to her ear again. “But I’ve seen your wetness all over my dick, and I can’t imagine my first time with you feeling anything except all of you against me. Your skin, your cum, every ounce of your wetness, every inch of your depth.”

She nodded again, still trying to remember how to breathe.

He chuckled. “I want to fuck you bareback, Gray.”

She whimpered, and then she nodded some more.

“And you know I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes.” Her voice actually squeaked as she spoke.

“You can do better than that. Say it nice and dirty like me.” He was still speaking against her ear.