Worth More Than Money (Worth It Series, #3)

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Worth More Than Money (Worth It Series, #3) Page 12

by Lexy Timms


  “Oh my gosh! This is so insane,” I said, breathlessly.

  “Not quite the grand tour I had in mind, but once the rain stops we can finish up,” Gray said.

  We were surrounded by tools and supplies as the rain came down harder. Battering so hard against the roof and the walls that I couldn’t hear myself think. I’d missed that feeling in my life. The happiness and carefree nature that came with being young and adventurous. The last time I’d felt anything near it, I’d left North Dakota with my stuff in trash bags and my foot hanging out the window of Andy’s car.

  But when I eyes locked with Gray’s, I felt that same sensation for the second time in the span of ten minutes.

  Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating his face before all fell dark again. His eyes were locked on me with an intense gaze. His hands were balled up in fists at his sides. Thunder cracked and I jumped again, causing Gray to take another step towards me.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I felt his heat and heard his breathing coming in short pants. As another bolt of lightning parted the skies, the electricity between us crackled. My back pressed into a wall that was being rain-battered and wind-blown, with nothing but a man I couldn’t resist standing in front of me. I tried to refrain from acting on my urges. I tried to tell myself this was platonic. That he was being kind, and the second I took him he would become possessive again. Demanding again. Controlling again.

  But his gravitational pull was stronger than my will to resist it, and I found my hand reaching out for his shirt and pulling him towards me.

  “Michelle, what are you—?”

  Then my lips silenced him and his hands dropped to my hips.

  Chapter 19

  Grayson

  For a second, I froze. Her lips pressed against mine and her fist held my shirt tightly, but I debated on stepping away. I had made her a promise. No requirements. No sex. Just a gentleman who wanted what was best for her and our child. But her lips molded to mine and her tongue swiped against my skin, and finally I couldn’t bear it any longer. Seeing her standing on my terrace in the sun that morning had knocked something loose inside my mind. She looked so right standing there, and the dream I’d had earlier about taking her against those windows came flooding back to my memory. She was so beautiful in the morning light. So delicate and precious. It forced me to change my plans on the spot simply to spend time with her.

  And now, I was going to get the chance to be inside her sweet, sexy body again.

  My hands fell to her hips and slipped effortlessly into her panties. She spread her legs for me as our tongues collided. I pinned her to the wall as the storm raged outside, swaying the walls of the building and coating my grapes in much-needed rain. I moaned at her wetness. How warm she already was for me. It felt like a miracle, getting to feel her again. To smell her again.

  Shit, I wanted to taste her again.

  I fell to my knees in front of her body with every intent to worship her. I slid her panties down those beautiful legs and helped her step out of them. I kissed up her calf. Up her thigh. Up her pelvis. I sucked on her hip as her hands twisted into my hair, pulling my face to where she wanted it the most. I bunched up her beautiful dress and sank my tongue into her depths, shivering at the heat that fluttered down my spine. She tasted divine. Like the sweetest grapes to ever be plucked from my vineyard.

  Swirling my tongue around her clit, her sounds were swallowed by the thunder covering our tracks. I pressed her hips into the wall, pinning her motions while I devoured her. My entire mouth cupped her pussy. My tongue flattened against her walls. Back and forth. Side to side. Playing her like a game as her legs quivered against my chest. Her juices dripped down my chin. Coated my cheeks. Filled my nostrils. I was drowning in her, and it was a death I would happily meet if it meant I got to die with her on my lips.

  “Gray. Yes. Oh, you know exactly what I need. Please. Give me more. Give me you. Please. I want you, Gray. Don’t stop.”

  Her words were hot and I felt something inside me burst. I pressed my tongue deep against her clit, holding her as she jolted against my face. Moans and whimpers fells from her lips. Her legs contracted and released with her pleasure. Her curves jumped for me as I massaged her hips, catching every last droplet of her upon my tongue.

  The heady feeling her taste gave me spun the outbuilding around my head.

  I shot up to my feet and pulled my cock out of my pants. I gathered her in my arms, wanting to feel her cling to me as I took her. As I coated this place with her. She wrapped herself around me and buried her face into the crook of my neck, moaning as I guided myself into her thick heat. I pinned her to the wall, my hands planted beside her head, and I watched the lightning break in her emerald eyes.

  “What are you doing to me?” I asked breathlessly.

  It was an honest question. One I had no answer to. My feelings for her were dangerous. My want to believe the best of her was dangerous. And yet, I still couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t resist the tug of her pussy and I couldn’t resist the feeling of her nails digging into me. The way her heels dug into my back and the way she fit perfectly around my body. It was as if Michelle had been made for me. Carved for my body from a deity who deemed me worthy enough to drown myself in her excess.

  I pounded into her, growling and grunting like the wild animal she made me.

  The wild animal I was proud to be when sunk into her body.

  Crashing my lips to hers, I swallowed her moans. The storm raged louder, with thunder and lightning crackling and popping at the same time. The outbuilding shook. The ground beneath us rattled. The wind whipped around the building and the roof creaked, drowning out my cries of pleasure as I released her lips.

  “Fucking hell, Michelle! Ah!”

  “Harder, Gray. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. I’m so close! Please! Don’t stop, Gray!”

  I slammed into her one last time, shooting cum so deep into her body it hurt. I roared out into the room, tossing my head back as my hands fell deeply into the wall beside her head. Her pussy fluttered so hard around me I couldn’t even count the beats. The ripples turned into a single clamp that shook her body and rendered Michelle speechless. Her legs wrapped tighter around me. Her pussy pulled me deeper than I ever felt I could be inside a woman. My head fell forward and she caught me with her own forehead while we drank up one another’s gasping breaths.

  Her arms slid back around my neck and she buried her face into me, a smile creeping across her cheeks. I pulled my cock from between her legs and wrapped my arms around her, smiling along with her. The room spun. My body shook with pleasant exhaustion. I held my entire world in my arms, my child included.

  Then, those damn voices started up.

  It’s probably your child.

  It might be your child.

  She still ran, Gray.

  Have you talked to your lawyer?

  You need contingencies.

  You need to protect yourself.

  No one else will protect you or that child but you, Gray. You know that.

  Are you sure she’ll help you once the baby’s born?

  The smile fell from my lips as I settled Michelle down onto her feet. I tucked myself back into my pants, taking as many steps away from her as I could. My mind began to spin with what would happen after this child was born. And this child? I still wasn’t sure if it was my child. I wouldn’t know until Michelle gave birth. What if it wasn’t my child?

  The thought alone made me sick to my stomach.

  What I felt was dangerous. What I felt when I looked at Michelle was dangerous. And I couldn’t be around her any more than I had to. I couldn’t travel that path again. I couldn’t get wrapped up in her only for it to come out that the child she carried really wasn’t mine.

  I didn’t know if I’d survive it.

  “Gray?”

  Her voice ripped me from my trance and something didn’t seem right. My heart didn’t feel right. My gut didn’t feel right.


  “The storm stopped,” Michelle said. “Do you want to finish the tour?”

  I focused my eyes on her. On her innocent stare and her beautiful hair. On the way her forehead still glistened with sweat and the way her dress fluttered over her body. I couldn’t be near her. I couldn’t be next to her. And the voices were right. I had to protect myself.

  Time to call my lawyer.

  “We should let the ground dry up a bit before we go out in it. I have some things to do in my office, so I’ll come get you later to finish up,” I said.

  “Oh. Okay.”

  I heard the defeat in her tone, but it didn’t matter. It couldn’t. Not when it came to survival. I offered Michelle my arm and the heat alone almost sank me into the floor. I escorted her back to my home as fast as I could, then released myself of her presence and headed straight for my office. Distance. My office was on the other side of the house from her room. I needed distance from her orbit and I needed to take a damn shower.

  All I could smell was her—all of her—under my nose.

  I sat down at my desk and raked my hands down my face. Then, I picked up the phone and tapped the pound sign before the number five. The phone rang in my ear as I gazed out over the front of my property, watching as Michelle walked out into the driveway.

  She stood there, gazing out over the small town of Napa. Just standing there. Not doing much of anything else.

  I spun back around so I wouldn’t have to look at her.

  “I was wondering when I’d hear from you, Mr. MacDonald.”

  “Brett. I wanted to check on the status of those custody papers.”

  “They were finalized this morning, actually. All I need to know is the amount of money you wish to offer Miss Danforth in exchange for the child if it is yours,” he said.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose as my stomach rolled with sickness. I didn’t want to believe that Michelle wanted that check. It was simply precautionary. Just in case she pulled a one-eighty on me after she gave birth. She was so sweet and so kind, and I was beginning to find it difficult to believe that she was anything I’d accused her of being. But I had to guard myself, and I had to guard that helpless child. I knew the terrible side of women. The selfish side. The ruthless side. All my life, I’d had to survive and rely on no one but myself. The only person I ever remotely trusted was dead, and I was back at square one.

  Alone in the world with no one to lean on.

  “Let’s just go with the money I offered the last woman,” I said.

  “The one with the twins.”

  “Yep. It’s a suitable amount.”

  “All right. One million dollars for the child, given that it’s yours.”

  “No. One million dollars for the child, period,” I said.

  The phone call went silent, and even I wasn’t sure why I’d just made that stipulation.

  “Mr. MacDonald, I don’t think you realize—”

  “I know what I just said. And I’ll say it again. One million dollars for the child if Miss Danforth doesn’t want to stick around to raise it,” I said.

  “Even if the child isn’t yours?”

  “Yes.”

  I had to protect that unborn child. Something in the pit of my gut rose to a protectiveness unlike anything I’d ever experienced. If that child was Andy’s, it couldn’t go back to Stillsville. It couldn’t be raised by that man. I couldn’t allow it. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t willingly send a helpless infant back into the throes of the type of life I grew up in. If that child was mine, I’d buy it off Michelle. If that child was Andy’s, I’d certainly buy it off Michelle. It would rid her of the terror of looking into its eyes and seeing her ex, and I would get the satisfaction of knowing I saved a child from what was possibly the same fate I suffered as a kid.

  “You know I’ll have to—”

  “Write in whatever is necessary, but the only other possible father for that child is an incoherent drunk in Stillsville. He won’t be capable of taking care of that child, nor will he want to. Either way, that child comes with me if Miss Danforth decides to offload it,” I said.

  “Then if you’re sure, I’ll draw it up in the documents.”

  “Let me know when it’s finished.”

  Then I hung up the phone, sat back in my seat, and turned to look out the window. And there she was, with her beautiful red hair and her flowing yellow dress, still staring off into the distance. Entranced by the view with the sun beating against her shoulders.

  I really hoped she wasn’t the kind of woman I feared she was.

  Chapter 20

  Michelle

  As I stood there looking out over the town of Napa, I came to a stark understanding that I no longer had the energy to fight. I wanted to make some sort of a life with Grayson MacDonald. I loved him, I was in love with him, and I wanted to stay at his side. I’d fought hard against it, and kept telling myself that I’d have to do this without him. Kept telling myself I had a home to go back to. Kept telling myself he was a no-good, angry son of a bitch.

  But he wasn’t.

  He simply didn’t trust anyone.

  The entire time I’d been at his place, he had been polite. Courteous. Aware of my emotional state and unobtrusive on my time to myself. We’d fallen into a routine that had become comfortable. As my first week at his home passed, we fell into a nightly routine we seemed to both enjoy once he was done working. I’d shoo the private chef away so I could cook dinner, then the two of us would take it up to one of the guest bedroom terraces and watch the sun set below the horizon. After dinner, we’d take a walk to the indoor pool and hot tub, then sit with our feet in the water and play cards.

  It turned out that Gray knew a lot of card games, so he ended up teaching me one every single night.

  “Do you know how to play Rummy?” Gray asked.

  “I don’t know how to play any of the card games you suggest,” I said, with a grin.

  “Well, the object is simple. We play with two decks, and each person playing tries to form matched sets of cards,” he said. “Like three aces or a four of a kind.”

  “Seems easy enough.”

  “Players can also make sequences of three or more cards, as long as they’re in the same suit.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  “The dealer deals ten cards,” he said, as he began to distribute them, “then the dealer flips a card over. Like this.”

  I picked up my ten cards and looked down at the King of Clubs.

  “Since I dealt, you go first. If you need that card, take it and discard. If you don’t need that card, flip over. You can’t have more than ten cards in your hand at once, but you can have less.”

  “So if I have any of the needed combinations, can I put them down?” I asked.

  “Yep. The goal is to run out of cards.”

  “Can I discard cards onto your piles?”

  “No. That’s a different game I can teach you tomorrow night.”

  “Fair enough,” I said, with a smile. “Then I’ll take that card and do this.”

  I set down three Kings before taking a card and laying it down.

  “I don’t flip one over, right?” I asked.

  “Nope. And now it’s my turn. Thank you for that card, by the way. I needed it.”

  “How did you end up learning so many card games?”

  He shrugged as he put down three Aces.

  “I spent a lot of time alone as a child. I played a lot of card games by myself during long summer days.”

  “You didn’t have anyone to play with?” I asked.

  He shook his head and my heart broke for him.

  “One summer, I got a book about card games from the library to learn more about them. Playing card games against myself got boring quickly, so I needed new games to learn.”

  We played a couple of rounds in silence and I wondered what his childhood must have been like. I knew Anton took him in, and I’d seen the pictures of him looking young, starved and badly bruised. My eyes t
raveled his body as he laid down cards and picked them up, studying them closely as his tongue darted out over his bottom lip. I wondered what the child growing inside of me might mean to him. And slowly, some of his concerns dropped into place. He didn’t want his child struggling the way he had. He didn’t want his child to be without loving parents, like he was.

  I began to see him through a different lens. One not clouded by anger and resentment. And I began to appreciate Gray and all of what he had accomplished despite the turmoil that had ravaged his childhood.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  Shaking my head, I pulled myself from my thoughts as we continued the game. We played through four rounds, and it wasn’t a shocker that he won each of them. But the food settled hard in my stomach and the hot water around my calves relaxed me a little too much. Gray helped me up from the side of the in-ground hot tub and he led me back to the house, arm in arm until he guided me to my bedroom door.

  “Get some sleep,” he said.

  Then, he bent down and kissed my forehead.

  I watched him walk off, studying him as he turned a corner and his shadow grew smaller. I stripped myself of my clothes and piled into bed, my eyes gazing out the window. I laid there all night, in and out of sleep, wondering about Gray and thinking about how much I wanted him. Admitting how badly I wished things were different between us. My mind began to wander and my dreams followed suit. I saw him holding my hand as I gave birth, and kissing me on the lips afterwards. I saw me moving my stuff upstairs and sleeping in his room with him. And every time I jerked myself awake from those torturous dreams, I started hoping.

  Which was a bad thing when it came to Gray.

  Did I dare hope for something between us? Did I dare look towards a future and consider the fact that he might want me back? Was it possible for us to move past this politeness to a place of love and trust with one another?

  The lingering hope was enough to show me how badly I wanted it to happen.

 

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