The Naked Truth

by Vi Keeland

Chapter 17

  * * *

  Layla

  “You’re really not going to tell me what this gigantic thing is?”

  “I’ll show you a gigantic thing…”

  I rolled my eyes. “That thing in your pants better be outstanding if I eventually see it, for all the smack talk you’ve done about it. Now, tell me what’s in this big box.”

  “I’ll tell you for a kiss.”

  “I already kissed you.”

  “Is there a daily limit?” Gray pulled me from sitting next to him onto his lap in the backseat of the car.

  I giggled and thought to myself, I don’t freaking giggle.

  “I’ve missed you, Freckles. Missed this—feeling like you were mine.” He pulled my hair to the side and kissed up my neck. I sighed and closed my eyes. I’d missed it, too. Although, unlike Gray, I was taking baby steps and not diving into this relationship, so I kept the thought to myself.

  “Can I ask you something?” I said.

  “Anything.” He inhaled deeply and kept his head buried in my neck. “God, I fucking love the way you smell.”

  “Do you think it’s possible to love more than one person at a time?”

  I felt him go rigid. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  I laughed. “No. I wasn’t talking about me. But when I saw you looking at the picture of my parents, it got me thinking about how possessive you seem. Would you have been okay with me seeing you and Oliver at the same time?”

  He pulled his head from my hair and looked into my eyes. “This is a hypothetical, right? You broke it off with Pencil Dick at lunch the other day?”

  “Yes, crazy man. This isn’t about us. I promise. I’ve just struggled my whole life to understand how my mother could accept my father having another woman—another family. And how my father could say he loved his families equally.”

  Gray looked relieved that I wasn’t in love with another man. His posture changed, and he stared out the window, giving my question some thought. Returning his eyes to me, he said, “This is a tough question to answer. I don’t want to hurt your feelings by telling you I don’t think it’s possible to love two people equally.”

  I sighed. “It’s okay. Neither do I. But so few people know about my family life that I’ve never discussed it with a man. I thought maybe your perspective would be different than mine for some reason.”

  “I think there’re different ways of loving people. But if you really love someone, like a man should love his woman, your heart doesn’t have room to love anyone else the same way.”

  “So why wouldn’t someone get divorced, then?”

  Gray shook his head. “I have no idea. My gut wants to say because he looks at women like possessions.”

  “But you seem to be pretty possessive yourself.”

  “There’s a difference between wanting to possess someone and being possessive.”

  “How so?”

  “Possessiveness comes from a fear of losing something you care about. Wanting to possess something means you want to control it, take away its freedom.”

  I smiled. “You sound so wise, when normally you sound like a wise ass.”

  Gray’s face turned serious. “Neither one of us had ideal role models for relationships growing up. But I like to think I at least learned what not to do. My father’s loyalty was to his work, not to his wives. Mine won’t be. Not anymore. I guess sometimes when your life is forced to stand still for a long period of time, it gives you the chance to look back. Things are clearer that way than when you’re glancing over your shoulder and running forward.”

  For the first time, I initiated physical contact. I leaned in and brushed my lips over Gray’s. When I pulled back, we stared at each other for a long time.

  “Thank you,” Gray whispered.

  “For the kiss?”

  “No. For the second chance.”

  ***

  Harper ran full speed at me when we walked in. She wrapped her little arms around my legs and jumped up and down, pointing to the enormous box in Gray’s hands. I still didn’t know its contents. “Is that for me? Is that for me?”

  Gray bent down on one knee so he sat eye level with her. “Is your name Harper?” he asked.

  She nodded her head fast.

  “Is today your sixth birthday?”

  More head nodding.

  Gray looked at the box and shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s for you, then.”

  “Can I open it?”

  He glanced up at me for an answer.

  “Oh no,” I said. “You brought that massive thing here. You’re not going to make me say she can’t rip into it.”

  Luckily, Quinn walked over. She kissed me on the cheek and spoke directly to Gray with a stoic face and attitude. “Trying to buy my kid, huh? Hope you brought me something good. I’m expensive to buy off.”

  Gray leaned down and kissed Quinn on the cheek. He spoke with his sexy, gruff voice. “I brought you the best thing possible: Layla. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Quinn.”

  She glared at him. “I’d say it was reciprocal, but the jury is still out on that.”

  Gray seemed to like that response. “You have every right to be skeptical. I’m glad Layla has protective friends.”

  Quinn hooked her arm with mine. “Why don’t you take Aunt Layla’s friend to the living room, and you can open your gift with Daddy in there, Harper.” She turned to Gray. “I’m going to take Layla to the kitchen to open wine and talk about you. What can I bring you to drink?”

  He threw her a dazzling smile. “A beer would be great.”

  The door to the kitchen was barely even closed when Quinn started. “Jesus Christ. You said he was good looking. Not that. That’s Brad-Pitt-before-Angelina-level smoking hot.”

  I grabbed two wine glasses from the cabinet. “I really could fall for him, Q. It’s sort of terrifying.”

  Quinn pulled a bottle of wine from a rack on the counter and the opener from the drawer in the center island. “You still don’t trust him?”

  “It’s not that I don’t. I’m afraid to. Honestly, why he lied makes a lot of sense. And technically, he wasn’t even lying—his marriage had been annulled. He was at such a disadvantage, and our connection happened really, really fast. So part of me does understand why he didn’t want to scare me away with his crazy history. And I believe his apology is sincere and that he cares about me.”

  A loud pop filled the air as Quinn pulled the cork from the bottle. “So what’s the hesitation then?”

  “He could devastate me.”

  Quinn held up the wine. “He could also lose his balls with the jagged end of a bottle.”

  ***

  “Oh my God.” I handed Gray his beer and stood next to him as people crowded around Harper, who was tearing through her gift. “Don’t tell me that big thing is a box of boxes.”

  My goddaughter had just opened the three-foot by three-foot square box that Gray brought, only to find another wrapped, slightly smaller box inside.

  Gray grinned and sipped his beer. “You said she had a box obsession.”

  I had told him that, but a year and a half ago. “How the hell did you remember?”

  “Told you, I remember every minute we spent talking together.”

  God, he really does. And him remembering this particularly random thing I’d told him about my goddaughter in passing so long ago really made me want to find that empty closet he’d threatened to push me in.

  “That was so sweet of you. I only brought her a heart locket. She’s going to be disappointed after this. Sadly.”

  He smiled proudly. “And the last box has an actual gift. It’s a carved wooden box that’s a puzzle to open.”

  I scowled at him. “This borders on bribery and might be considered cheating at our bet.”

  “My entire gift was under twenty bucks. How much did you spend?”

  I brought the wine to my lips. “Bite me.”

  He looked around the room with a shit-eating
grin on his face. “I’d love to. Is that closet around?”

  I shook my head. “Come on, cheater, let me introduce you to everyone.”

  The party wasn’t very big—mostly Quinn and her husband Brian’s family and a few of the employees from the pub. Brian, being the suspicious New York City cop that he is, wore an inhospitable mask on his face as he shook Gray’s hand. When Quinn had first told him I’d met a man in prison, he’d been vocal about suggesting I’d lost my mind. When he’d found out things ended the way they did, he didn’t have to say I told you so.

  Brian locked eyes with Gray during the shake. “Layla’s like a little sister to me, and I carry a gun.”

  “Brian!” I scolded.

  Gray put his hand up, motioning for me to let him handle it. He swallowed and nodded at Brian. “Understood.”

  It’s funny, since I had decided to forgive Gray and move on, I actually felt bad for what he’d gone through and wanted everyone else to move on, too. People still saw him as an ex-con and a future suspect even when they knew the truth of his story. So while I partially understood Brian’s suspiciousness, it also made me want to defend Gray.

  “You know what, Brian—”

  Gray slipped his hand around my waist and discreetly squeezed. My eyes flashed to his, and I knew he wanted me to let it go. So I did…for now.

  Wagging a finger at Brian, I said, “We’ll talk later.”

  We went out back, and I finished introducing Gray around. At least everyone else at the party was friendly. After I was done, we sat together on a lounge chair in the sun. It was a gorgeous late-spring day. I leaned my head on his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry about Brian and Quinn.”

  “Don’t be. If they weren’t protective, they wouldn’t be very good friends. I’m glad you have them.”

  “I know. But I want them to like you.”

  “I’m not planning on going anywhere, Freckles. Let them come around in their own time, and it will be genuine. You can’t force someone’s guard down.” He kissed the top of my head. “I need to earn their trust just the same way I’m still earning yours.”

  ***

  A few hours later, as the party was coming to an end, I watched from a distance while Gray spoke to Brian. The guys were playing horseshoes under the lights, and Gray had joined in. I suspected he’d done it more to spend time with Brian than actually wanting to play.

  Quinn walked over and sat in the Adirondack chair next to me. “I take it you dumped Mr. Twist?”

  It took me a minute to realize she meant Oliver. “Yeah. He’s a nice guy, but I realized when Gray walked back into my life that Oliver wasn’t it. Even if Gray turns out to be not it either…what I feel reminded me what it should be like.”

  A loud yell brought my attention back to the game the guys were playing. Something good must’ve happened because Brian fistpumped into the air, and then I watched as he and Gray slapped a high five.

  “The way to win my husband over is to be good at the silly games he likes.”

  I turned to her. “And what does Gray have to do to win his wife’s approval?”

  “Simple. Just make my girl happy and not sad.”

  Harper came running from inside with her cousin and jumped onto my lap. “Aunt Layla, wanna play with my boxes?”

  “Sure, pipsqueak.”

  I wasn’t quite sure how to play with boxes, but I let the little tyrant direct me on the back deck until the game ended and the guys walked back over. Brian lifted Harper from the box she sat in and tossed her into the air. She squealed like a little girl should when her daddy plays with her.

  “It’s late,” he said. “What do you say I put you and your cousin to bed, but I let you keep on the light and bring some of these boxes with you?”

  “Yay!!”

  He set Harper down, and she yawned, right on cue.

  “Say goodnight and thank you to everyone for coming.”

  Harper made the rounds, hugging all the women but keeping away from most of the men, as usual. I was rewarded with a giant, two-armed hug, and then she stopped and looked up at Gray, who stood next to me.

  He crouched down to her eye level. “It was nice meeting you, Harper.”

  “Thank you for the boxes,” she said.

  She hesitated and then surprised the shit out of all of us when she jumped into Gray’s arms for a hug.

  Quinn and I were still shaking our heads when Brian carried her to her room.

  Gray whispered into my ear, and goosebumps littered my arms. “One down, one to go.”

  He stood back up and began to unfold his shirtsleeves, which he must’ve rolled up while he was playing with the guys. Quinn elbowed me hard in the ribs.

  “Oww.” I turned to her, and she bulged her eyes in the direction of Gray’s arms—his enormous, thick forearms.

  God, I hope her analogy is true.

  After the girls were in bed, Brian, Quinn, and I sat around in the yard with Gray, telling him stories about the three of us growing up. We laughed and had a few drinks. I thought it went a long way toward both of them warming up to my new… What is Gray? I suppose they’d warmed up to my new boyfriend. It was almost midnight by the time we decided to call it a night.

  At the door, I hugged my best friend goodbye and promised I’d stop up to have dinner at her pub during the week. Brian and Gray shook hands, without the icy glare this time. When Gray embraced Quinn, she winked over his shoulder, right before giving me the thumbs up.

  The thumbs up.

  Of course Gray had to have turned his head at the exact same moment, but I couldn’t be sure if he’d seen it—until he turned around. The gleam in his eyes confirmed he hadn’t missed a damn thing.

  The man had done the impossible in six hours—gotten a hug from the birthday girl and received the seal of approval from my best friend.

  And I…

  …I was about to get felt up in the car on the way home.

  Chapter 18

  * * *

  Gray

  A limousine waited at the curb.

  “A stretch? Where’s your town car?” Layla asked.

  I waved off the driver and opened the back door for her, without answering. She looked at me, still waiting for a response, as I settled beside her in the back row and pulled the door shut. I spoke to the driver, giving him Layla’s address, and ended with, “Take the long way. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  I pushed a button on the overhead control panel, and the privacy glass began to raise. Once it hit the top, I tugged Layla from her seat next to me onto my lap.

  “I believe I’ve won a bet, and I’m ready to collect my prize.”

  The smell of her perfume, or maybe it was her shampoo, made me insane. I felt like a teenager about to cop my first feel of the hot girl I’d fawned over all year. Only I was a thirty-one-year-old man about to embarrass myself by coming in my pants.

  Her eyes grew wide when I reached for the bottom hem of her shirt, and it turned me on to no end to watch the heave of her chest grow. I’d waited to see her beautiful tits for so long. Now that the time had finally come, I wanted to memorize every change in her breath, every sound she made, so I’d know what she liked.

  I lifted the fabric up to her navel and dipped my head to lick around her belly button before nibbling my way to one side of her waist and then the other.

  Looking up so I could watch her face, I found her beautiful, green-blue eyes had turned a deep ocean blue. They darkened when she was angry or turned on, and I was fucking thrilled to finally be seeing this color for the right reason again. I lifted her shirt a little higher, to just under her breastbone.

  Going in for a gentle kiss, I said, “I looked up the definition of felt up.”

  Her voice carried a mix of amusement and sarcasm, with a side of raspy arousal. “I didn’t realize felt up was in the dictionary.”

  “I had to use Urban Dictionary.”

  “Oh really? And what exactly did Urban Dictionary have to say?�
�

  I ran my tongue along the skin at the bottom of her bra cup, tracing the shape of her breast. First one, then the other.

  My lips vibrated on her skin as I spoke. “It said, felt up means to be touched on your private parts.”

  Pulling back to lock eyes with her again, I ever-so-slowly raised her shirt higher, exposing her bra. It was nearly impossible, but I didn’t allow my eyes to drop down to take her in as I spoke. “Since it’s ambiguous as to what should be touching your private parts, I’m going to go with tongue.”

  “And here I thought getting felt up meant a boy putting his hand under a girl’s sweat…” Her voice trailed off when I nuzzled my mouth into her beautiful cleavage and licked a line from breasts to neck.

  Layla shifted from the way I’d pulled her across my lap to straddle me. The skirt she wore parted, and I could feel the heat of her warm pussy through the material of my pants and her underwear. I groaned and used my thumbs to push down the cups of her bra before dipping my head to take in a pebbled nipple. She was right there with me when I bit down, keeping the pert bud between my teeth as I tugged before releasing and moving to the other side. She cupped my cheeks as I sucked, scraping her nails along the outline of my jaw. My hips rose to thrust into her, let her feel what she was doing to me.

  When she moaned my name, I nearly lost my mind. I’d wanted nothing more than to hear that sound for so long. Moaning. My name. Her breathing was ragged as she ground against me. I hadn’t planned on anything more than a make-out session and sucking on her gorgeous tits, but when she ground down against my rock-hard cock a second time, I realized she needed a release.

  Yet I was afraid to push her too much, too fast. So I tested the waters, rubbing my thumb gently over the outside of her panties.

  Fuck me.

  They were soaked.

  Shit started to snowball out of my control after that. I fisted a handful of her hair and pulled her mouth down to mine. Unlike the last time, I didn’t have to encourage her to open for me. Layla’s tongue slid inside my mouth with an eagerness that made me groan. Her shirt was still pulled up, and her tits were pressed against me so tightly that the hardness of her nipples against my chest—even through my shirt—felt like flint scraping against steel. Sparks were flying.