“This is true,” I whisper against his mouth, my hands slide up the side of his head; my fingers combing through his hair.
“Perhaps we could do something about that,” he moves his head and runs his nose up and down my neck, his lips and tongue grazing the skin.
“What are you waiting for?” I pant out.
His hands slide down my back to the hem of my shirt where he grips it and slides it up and over my head. Once my hands are free I place them on his head and cover his mouth with mine.
I start the kiss slow, teasing him.
This doesn’t last long as we’ve been starved for each other all week.
In a flash all of our clothes are off and Grayson is standing up with my legs wrapped around him. He walks to the kitchen and stands me down in front of the counter. He gives me a wicked grin before spinning me around and bending me over the kitchen island, wrenching a gasp from me.
“As I promised, baby,” he growls.
His hands spread my thighs apart and he does as he promised this morning. He ‘feasts’ on me until I’m laying listlessly across the counter top and then he carries me to the kitchen table and keeps his word by making it impossible for me to speak…
***
A couple of hours later we’re laying on Grayson’s couch, covered only by a throw blanket. I’m in complete bliss mode.
Sex shouldn’t be this good.
I feel so greedy even getting it. Everything about it is perfect.
Perfect sex doesn’t exist. It’s a myth.
Thought up by romance writers to give us unreal expectations of what men should be like and what to expect when we hand out our V-Card.
Yet…
Here I am. Proven wrong.
It’s not the sex from the novels of my mother by any means. It’s… real. And beautiful. He’s attentive. He takes care of me. It appears important to him that I’m satisfied.
I’ve only ever known selfish lovers. So I, myself, have learned to be selfish.
With Grayson, it never even crossed my mind. From that first time, I wanted to please him. Wanted him to please me.
When did this happen?
Am I…
Could I be…
Falling for a guy…?
Oh shit.
No.
No, no, no, no…
No, it’s not love.
Eck, just thinking about it almost induces a panic attack.
But…
Not because I don’t feel that pull…
But because it’s a pretty scary thing.
I feel… I don’t know… something deep for Grayson.
Like there is this string that connects us. It’s fragile, yet powerful. And it keeps me here. In his arms. It makes me want to be here.
Being with him isn’t scary. Thoughts of the future are.
Am I really in a true relationship for the first time in years?
Have I connected with him that deeply? And why doesn’t that thought bother me?
Or am I completely overreacting and maybe this is just how people act as we get older. We don’t feel the need to hand out the lies like giving candy to kids on Halloween. We just let it be what it is and when it’s done… it’s done. No muss, no fuss.
Well, hell.
I can do a relationship like that.
Whew!
Okay, no worries.
You’re not in love, Ree. You’re just an adult now. Having an adult relationship where you don’t need to keep secrets or play games or worry about what this look or that look means. If there is some underlying meaning to words spoken.
What a relief!
If only it could have been this easy years ago!
“What are you thinking about, babe?” Grayson asks me quietly, his fingers trailing up and down my spine.
“Uh…” Well, I can’t very well tell him about that inner monologue. He’ll think I’ve gone postal. Well… more so than he already does. “Kittens,” I blurt out the first non-threatening thing I can get my mind to focus on.
His hand stops moving and there’s a moment of silence… then, “Kittens?”
“Yep,” I nod into his chest. “They’re cute, ya know? Like really freaking adorable. Have you ever looked at those freaking kitten calendars at the store? I mean, who would not think those things are cute?”
“You want a cat?” he asks me.
“Of course not,” I answer. “I’m not really a cat person.”
“But you just said,” I feel his chin dip down but I don’t look at him as I interrupt him.
“That kittens are cute,” I explain. “They grow into cats. Which are okay, I guess,” I shrug, “I mean, I don’t have anything against cats, just that they’re not really my thing. Too stuck up.”
“After the sex we just had and you’re mind wanders to kittens,” he mumbles.
“Sorry,” I shrug, not really sounding sincere.
“Kittens,” he mumbles again, shaking his head and kissing the top of my hair. We lay in silence for a few more minutes before he says, “I need to go into the station and sign some paperwork. Reid told me I forgot some stuff that had to be done tonight, but I wanted to have some time with you first.” His fingers trail through my hair smoothing it down my back and around my waist.
“Okay,” I tell him, trying to hide the disappointment.
He’ll probably get stuck there all night and I’ll have to sleep alone. Again.
“Wanna come with me?” he asks.
“Really?” I lift my head up and look at him.
His eyes go lazy and his lips curve up, “Yeah, baby.”
“Okay,” I lean forward and press my lips to his.
“Alright, get dressed,” he playfully smacks my ass.
“Hey!” I swat at his chest.
He laughs and rolls away before I can make contact.
“Get dressed, Ree,” he laughs.
I stand up and wrap the blanket around me.
“Fine,” I huff and walk towards his bedroom where I set my bag down earlier.
I rummage through my bag to find my jeans and a shirt when Grayson’s hands wrap around my hips.
“Chief, you have to let me,” my words catch in my throat as I turn around and see that it’s not Grayson. He’s wearing a hood that covers his eyes and makes it hard to see his face. He’s dressed in all dark clothing. His hands tighten on me, painfully, wrenching a cry from my throat.
“We have to go,” he says quietly. It’s hard to make out his voice, it’s almost like he is changing the way it naturally sounds. “I have to get you out of here.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I spit at him. “Let go of me!” I screech. “Grayson….!” I pitch my voice as high as I can get it.
The crazy stalker’s hands drop from me to cover his ears.
“Ree!” Grayson yells back.
“Help!” Crazy Stalker darts toward the window. “Stop!” I scream and run toward him, wanting to keep him here. If I can keep him here, then he’ll be arrested and all of this will be over. “Stop!” I yell out again and pick something up off the floor (keeping one hand on the blanket around me) and throw it at him.
It hits him but he’s already got the window open and jumps out of it just as Grayson comes in the bedroom door.
“What? What’s wrong?” he demands of me.
“There!” I point to the window. “He’s getting away.”
He looks at me in a quick assessing way in a flash and says, “Stay here,” before running to the window, his gun in his hand and (literally) throwing himself out of the it, landing in a tuck-and-roll-type maneuver before darting after the guy.
I move quickly to the window, close it and lock it. I sit down on the bed, covering myself in the covers and begin to shake.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
This is really real.
I have a crazed fucking stalker after me.
Ohmigod.
Ohmigod.
Ohmigod.
“Can’t… Sta… stalker… Cr… crazy…” I can only get out part of a sentence and I’m not sure he has any idea what I’m talking about. I can’t even understand me.
“I know, baby,” he says, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. “Listen to me breathe, Ree. Match yours with mine.” He slows his breathing down from running and I do as he says and listen to him breathe; slowly taking a deep breath in and letting it out just as slowly until the shaking has stopped and my breaths are as slow and steady as his.
“Good job, baby,” he whispers, his hands running up and down my back, his lips in my hair. “Good job.”
“What the fuck, Grayson!” I slap his chest, pulling back from him. “How the hell did some crazed mad man get into your house!?”
“Ree, I don’t know,” he leans toward me and places his hands around my upper arms. “I’m sorry,” his eyes burn into mine, allowing me to see the guilt he feels. He moves his hands up and cups my neck, his thumbs brushing along my jaw. “I’m gonna call the station and get someone out here. I assume you don’t want to stay here tonight?” I look at him like he’s mentally damaged if he thinks I’m staying in this room. “Okay, baby,” he pulls me closer to him, “let’s go to the station and fill out a report. Then we’ll stay at your house, okay?”
I bite the inside of my cheek and look away from him, nodding. He helps me out of the bed and I get dressed as he calls the station, clearly as pissed as I am scared that some guy was in his bedroom. He grabs my bag and walks me out to the garage, helping me up into his truck.
“What about my car?” I ask him quietly as we pull out.
“I’ll have one of the guys get it tomorrow.” He reaches over and grabs my hand, resting them on the console between us.
A few minutes later we pull into the back of the station. Grayson comes around the truck and helps me out then walks me up a short flight of stairs where he enters a code and opens the door for me. I step into a foyer-like room and he leads me to a second door where he enters another code (different from the first) and we walk through that door. We walk down a hallway that opens up into what I imagine is some kind of cop bull pen. A few people are at desks, typing on computers, a few others are standing around talking.
“Jacobson, Reid,” Grayson barks. They both turn from their spot at the coffee pot, see Grayson’s face and make their way toward us.
Grayson turns me to the right where there is an office set up. He opens the door and I walk through.
His office.
It’s obsessively clean. Everything in a perfect place.
He leads me over to a couch in the right corner where I sit down.
“What’s up?” Ry asks after closing the door.
“He was in my house. Attacked Ree,” Grayson tells him.
“What!?” Declan bellows, causing me to flinch.
“Are you okay,” Ry comes over and sits next to me.
“I’m fine,” I answer him and bite the inside of my cheek.
“You’re not fine,” he tells me.
“Yes, I am,” I release my cheek and glare at him.
“Ree, you’re biting your cheek. You used to do that all the time when we were kids and something was bothering you,” he argues.
“Shut up,” I hiss at him, watching Grayson watch us, through the corner of my eye. That man does not need to have any more insight into my tells.
Ry rolls his eyes and throws his arm around my shoulders pulling me close.
“We’ll get him, Ree,” he tells me.
“I know,” I say on a release of a breath.
“What happened?” Declan asks, looking between us.
“He was in my room when Ree went in there to change,” Grayson grinds out between his teeth.
“What the fuck?” Ry spits out.
“Ree, baby?” Grayson says softly, causing me to look at him. “Can you tell us what happened?”
“Yeah,” I answer, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
I spend the next two hours going over every aspect of those five minutes with nearly everyone in the department. I give a description (what little there was to give) to them before I snap.
“I can’t! I don’t remember anymore!” By this point I’m pacing the office. “I’ve had to tell this story, like, five hundred and eighty three times!”
“Okay, Ree,” Grayson says, stopping my pacing by wrapping his arms around me.
“I need to get out of here,” I say into his chest, my hands fisted in his shirt. “I just need to take a walk.”
“Okay, let’s go,” he says into my neck.
“No, Chief,” I say quietly. “You have work to do.”
“You’re not going out of this building alone,” he tries to keep his voice from growling, but doesn’t quite manage it.
“I know,” I tell him, exasperated. “I’ll just walk around the station.”
“I’ll give her a tour, boss,” Koby says.
“Thanks,” I look at him and give a small smile.
“No problem,” he smiles kindly back.
“Thanks, Lewis,” Grayson says.
“Yep,” he answers. Then looks at me, “Shall we,” he gestures his hand toward the office door.
I nod and look up at Grayson, “Be right back.”
“Okay,” his eyes get lazy and he bends his head, pressing his lips lightly to mine, his tongue barely caressing against my own. He pulls away and I walk toward Koby.
He starts the tour by showing me around the ‘Pit’. (What I referred to as the bull pen.) Then he takes me downstairs and shows me the weight room and cells, of which there aren’t many and are (thankfully) empty.
Along the way I learn that Koby is thirty. Has never been married or had kids. He used to live out in North Carolina but moved here when Grayson contacted him.
“I didn’t have much going on back home,” he explains when I asked why he would move halfway across the country. “My parents were always hounding me about settling down because my two older brothers and younger sister already had.” He shrugs, “Just haven’t found the right person, I guess.”
“Yeah, well don’t be all gung-ho about it,” I warn him. “Relationships are messy and people suck.”
“That’s odd coming from you,” he grins at me, his hazel eyes lighting up with silent laughter.
“How so?” I ask.
“Well, because of you and Cole,” he shrugs.
“Grayson may be a great guy and sexy as hell, but he’s still a guy,” I explain. We stop in the hallway on the third floor. “He’s fundamentally wired to never be satisfied with one woman. It’s not his fault, really. It’s none of your faults. It’s just how men are bred to think.”
“Bred?” he raises a brow at me.
“You know what I mean,” I wave my hand at him. “How many centuries did women go without the right to do anything on their own? Men ran the show. And while, these days, most men are completely fine with the way women’s rights have changed, you have to acknowledge the fact that some traces of their past are still with them. Men want to be able to have what they want, when they want it. It’s part of their chemical makeup. That barbaric side is just lying dormant in all of you, waiting for a chance to be released. And you all do, in little ways. For some guys that’s cheating. For some, it’s not settling down; not cutting off the opportunity to keep your options open. Even women have adopted some of these habits.”
“So you don’t see a future with Grayson?” he asks me, his face serious and his beautiful hazel eyes reading deep into my meaning.
“I don’t know,” I look down, slightly shaking my head. “I don’t believe that he could want a future with me, I guess.” I look up at him, “I don’t really see a future for myself at all when I think about it. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be…�
��
“Shit, Ree. You’ve got problems,” he lifts his brows.
“Tell me about it,” I laugh.
We walk down the hallway and step up to a cream door.
Koby hovers his hand over the key pad for a moment before looking at me, “You’re wrong, Ree.”
“What do you mean?” I tilt my head.
“Some guys see the beauty in a rare woman. They know how special it is and what a gift a woman can be to their soul. A woman who is strong and able to take on the world without fear of repercussions, is someone special. A woman that will stand up and be the comfort a man needs… the comfort a man craves. Some men just want a woman who can take away their pain with nothing more than a smile and a gentle touch.” He lowers his voice and leans toward me just a little, “You’re that kind of woman, Azaria,” my breath hitches in my throat, “and Grayson Cole is that kind of man.”
He turns away from me, enters the code and holds the door open for me.
I rapidly blink a few times, trying to get my shit together (for God sakes Koby Lewis just blew my mind!) before I step through the door.
Inside is a bunch of monitors and a whole bunch of electronic shit that I have no idea what it is. It kind of looks like a switchboard.
Amber Allen is sitting at the desk monitoring calls and about five scanners.
“Hey Amber,” I say.
She turns and looks at me, “Hey Ree,” she smiles. “I’ve been hearing all about you since you came back. You like to make an appearance don’t you?”
Amber is one of Kassie’s best friends from high school. She’s always been nice to me… and a bitch to everyone else. I don’t know how I rated so special, but I’m thankful I did, because she can be ruthless. She’s married to her high school boyfriend with two kids Jesse, who is ten, and Hayley, who is thirteen.
“Usually,” I shrug. “So who else works in here?” I ask.
“We trade eight to twelve hour shifts between me, Hillary Sheldon, Tara Williams, and Amanda Bishop,” she answers.
“Ah, sounds… exciting.”
It really doesn’t sound exciting. I think this would be one of the most boring jobs ever.
“Something like that,” she says, “But the view is better these days,” she looks at Koby.
My Coyote Ugly Life Page 18
