Their silence spoke volumes.
He was being shoved from their group.
The decision had been made.
When the front door closed, Emma went to speak. Only, Greyson growled and slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a gaping hole.
Curtis cringed.
It looked like this was going to escalate. The two people he loved more than anyone in the world were about to explode.
He only hoped they would survive.
Curtis hoped Emma got him in the custody agreement. After today, Greyson Croft was going to be hell to live with if he lost Emma.
That was for damn certain.
This display was nothing. What was on the horizon was going to be a million times worse. Greyson Croft without the softer part of his life would be unbearable.
A tyrant.
Emma was smart enough to know that their marriage hung in the balance. Truth was the only thing that would calm the situation. She knew that Greyson was angry, but she was too.
“What you did today crossed a line, Emma. You damaged us.”
She crossed her arms across her chest, trying to keep from breaking down. The last thing she wanted was to fight with this man.
Everything she did was for him.
He was her all.
Greyson was her reason to live, and she loved him more than her own life. After all, she had been willing to face down a mob boss to keep Greyson alive and intact.
“What I did? What exactly is that, Grey? I tried to save my husband. Apparently, he’s obsessed and over the edge on this one.”
Greyson didn't speak.
He couldn’t.
His tongue was tied in knots, and he wanted to have a stroke.
Finally, he strung a sentence together.
“For the record, I have a right to be pissed off. You do not. You broke our rules. My wife. My property. You’re in danger, and I have to be the one who saves you. Our security is just that—security. They aren’t a replacement for me!”
Curtis could see the man de-evolving right before him. The caveman was going to be sleeping alone in his very cold cave from here on out. Even Emma had her limits, and she had to be close to booting him for crossing a line.
“Is that so? Well, it’s reciprocal. My husband. My property, and you’re in danger too. How do I ignore that?” she asked.
He sputtered in anger.
Emma moved to stand toe to toe with him, only she only came up to his chin.
“How long, Emma? How long have you been conspiring with Dimitri behind my back? I have a right to know when my wife is betraying me in our own home with someone I called friend.”
“It’s been a few weeks. I had no choice. After the way Dominic has been prodding you, I had to step in. Randall left me a file with all the victim’s names. Dimitri was only helping me because he accumulated the information in them. His loyalty was torn. No one wanted to do this, but we had no choice. Losing you wasn’t an option for any of us.”
He stared at her.
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
She heard the hurt in his voice. Greyson’s past was rearing its ugly head. He really felt like she had betrayed him, and that was far from the truth.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” she countered. “You had Rutherford Bentley’s name, and you were about to begin investigating, weren’t you?”
He didn’t speak.
They were at a stalemate.
Greyson moved past her, heading toward the liquor cabinet. Once there, he chugged bourbon right from the decanter.
Yeah, they knew that was a very bad sign.
Emma wouldn’t let him suffer alone. If her husband was going down, so was she. Following him, she took the decanter from his hand.
He didn’t stop her.
Emma took a huge swig, and it burned like hell.
Shit!
“This could be the end of us. I won’t have my wife being my bulletproof vest. I can’t live like that. It’s not the man I am.”
She was aware.
It was time to patch him up with what was really between them.
“I love you, Greyson, but you’re out for blood. It’s not about justice. It’s about killing him. You want to end his life, and it’s consuming you. That’s why I didn't tell you. I was trying to save your life. I was trying to save our life.”
He stared at her.
Emma continued, holding nothing back. If she had any hope of reaching the rational man beneath the anger, there was only one way to do it.
Honesty.
“I can’t lose you, and I am. You’re slipping away, and the only way to save you was to stop Dominic. This was a last case scenario, but my back was to the wall. I’m on the verge of losing the only man I love. I would rather die than stand over your grave, or try to find your remains after he feeds you to the vultures. That hurts me and scares me, Greyson. I can’t lose you.”
He had the same fears.
They were battling the same demons.
For the first time in days, he really looked at his wife. She had bags under her eyes, she looked like hell, and this had to be weighing on her.
God!
Was he really hurting her?
“I love you, Greyson Thaddeus Croft. I’m so afraid I’m going to lose you. I can’t face the day without you, Grey. You’re my everything. What wouldn’t I do to keep you alive? I’d sacrifice myself to have just one more day with you.”
The tears began falling.
He heard the truth in her words, saw the genuine pain in her eyes, and it calmed him.
Yes, he was mad, but the overwhelming need to comfort his wife took over, winning the vicious tug-o-war.
“Emma.”
“He wants you dead, Grey. He wants to watch you die, and I can’t do it. I can’t bear to think of a day without you in it. You’re falling for it, and I can’t stop it. I’ve already lost you. He’s going to win because you’re not seeing the big picture. His plan is to destroy us, and it’s working.”
She began crying.
The husband returned, and he tried to comfort his wife. Nothing scared the bejezus out of a man more than a weeping wife.
Immediately, he opened his arms, and she didn't hesitate. Emma moved right into his body, trying to find peace in his embrace.
“Don’t cry, honey,” he whispered, running his hands up and down her back. “I’m right here, and I have you, Emma. No one is going to break us apart. No one.”
She sobbed even harder when she picked up the subtle scent of his aftershave. This was her heart and soul personified into a living, breathing man.
He was her center.
As she shook, he held on for dear life. Emma rarely broke, but when she did, it always terrified him. She was right. He had done this to them.
Dominic was winning, and he’d been so blind not to see it happening before him.
He was a fool.
Curtis watched them struggling to find middle ground, and he knew they needed privacy. Slowly, he backed out of the den and slid the pocket doors closed.
He had hope.
Emma was soothing the savage beast, and where he and Chris couldn’t stop Greyson from going nuclear, she could.
Everything was going to be fine.
He had faith.
Greyson wiped the tears that were sliding down her cheeks with the pads of his thumb. “Oh, Emma, honey, I’m sorry I’ve put you in this position. In my attempt to protect you, I’ve ended up hurting you. That wasn’t my intent. You’re the most precious person in the world to me. I’d never intentionally hurt you.”
“I’m so afraid, Grey. Please don’t let me go.”
His heart skipped.
“Never, honey. Never.”
She went up on her toes, seeking the one thing that would soothe the rough edges in her.
Him.
Her mouth sought his, and as soon as their lips touched, she found her balance. It was always like that with this man. What wouldn’t
she give to have him in her life?
The answer was simple.
Emma would die for him.
Greyson held her to his body, her mouth moving over his smoothing out the rough edges that anger had created. No matter how pissed he was, he wouldn’t allow himself to hurt her further.
Emma deserved everything good in the world, and he’d promised to give her that the day they married. He vowed to love, honor, and cherish the redhead in his arms, and he’d keep his word. No matter what they were both battling, they had to be a team. The last few weeks, they had been anything but. She wasn’t the only one who betrayed.
He did too.
He’d betrayed his true partner—his wife.
“Oh, Emma,” he muttered, her hands finding their way beneath his shirt. The second skin touched skin a completely different fire erupted in him. The anger was gone. It was replaced with something more.
It was heat.
It was love.
It was need.
Only one person could ever quench it for him, and she was in his arms.
“Touch me, Grey,” she begged, needing to feel his hands all over her body. Keeping this secret had hurt her, and only he could kiss and make it better. Now that the truth was out, they needed to find a way to heal each other’s emotional scars.
She didn't have to ask twice.
Greyson needed this as much as she did.
Looking around the room, he saw that they were alone. They’d yet to christen this room, and it looked like the time was right. The glass windows opened to their vast yard, and he didn't care. If they had eyes on them, they were about to get one hell of a show.
“I need you, Emma,” he said, his mouth moving down the long column of her throat, nipping, biting, and leaving a trail of fire. The taste of her skin was familiar, cathartic, and erotic at the same time. She smelled like flowers and tasted like the sweetest dessert.
He was lost in it.
It was her spell over him.
As he kissed and nipped his way across her neck, Emma moaned, going lax in his arms. Here was one of the reasons Emma knew she belonged to this man—only he made her feel like this. In all her life, only Greyson could drive the heat up to levels like this.
He was her everything.
He was her center.
Scooping his wife off her feet, he carried her toward the big leather couch. Tumbling onto it, she ended up across his lap staring down at him.
“I love you, and I forgive you.”
His words caused her heart to kick in his chest.
“I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn't do it to be mean. I did it out of love,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his. “I love you so much, Greyson. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to buy us one more day together.”
The anger was gone, and now there was something more.
Lust.
“Prove it,” he said, needing to feel warm again, and the only way was with his wife. Emma could chase that cold, icy fear from his body.
She didn't hesitate.
Slowly, she undid the buttons on his shirt. With each one, she left a kiss on the showing skin.
Croft shook.
She was undoing him with tenderness, and in exchange, he was healing her with love. She needed this and so did he. As usual, they needed each other.
He went to undo her buttons, but she stopped him.
“Let me.”
Greyson wouldn’t fight her on this. If Emma wanted to cater to him, so be it. Here, he would let her be in charge to bring them both peace. At least in that moment, the woman he loved more than anything was safe. In his arms, he knew she wouldn’t be hurt. There, she was protected.
When his shirt was finally undone, her hands moved across his chest, admiring what was hers.
“I love how strong you are,” she said, sliding her hands into his hair. She loved the pepper of gray forming over his ears, proving that there was one hell of a weight on his shoulders.
“You carry the weight of the world, and you never drop it, Greyson. That’s sexy in a man,” she admitted, and it was true. Greyson Croft was the epitome of virile, and he was all hers.
“I’m not the only one who is strong, Emma. You’re holding so much on your shoulders too. I’m not easy to love, and you do it seamlessly. You’re my miracle.”
She tugged him closer, hungrily moving her mouth over his. She devoured, consumed, and took until she was forced to free him so they could breathe.
Greyson moaned, his body going hard beneath her. This was Emma’s siren song. One touch from the woman in his lap, and he was lost to it. He craved getting lost in the moment with her. It was always heated, primitive, and beyond mind blowing. There was nothing better in the world.
Emma pushed his shirt from his shoulders, the pricy material getting tangled in his gun harness and suit jacket. She didn't care. She needed that flesh to flesh contact, and she needed it now.
As he struggled to free his arms, her hands went to her own shirt. Emma tugged it over her head, ignoring the buttons as she sat in his lap.
Greyson got free, and he couldn’t help but watch her. Emma was beautiful.
She was his.
The world could take and take, but she was the one ‘thing’ that was his, and his alone. She was a gift that he’d never have to return. His wife was precious to him. She was everything.
His love.
His heart.
His woman.
She picked up his wrist and ran her fingers over her name tattooed there. It touched her on such a level. The day he surprised her with that gift, she’d cherished it. Lovingly, she placed kisses over his pulse.
It jumped.
“This is my proof that you’re mine, Greyson. You wear my name, and you belong to me.”
It was one more reason why she’d die for him. He was hers, and only hers.
“Emma,” he whispered.
“Touch me, Grey. Make the world disappear like only you can do.”
That was all he needed to hear. He pulled her forward, until they were torso to torso. His mouth plundered her mouth, drinking in all she had to offer.
He consumed.
He took.
It was perfect, like always.
Her arms wrapped around him as she rubbed wantonly against his erection.
It pulled a moan from deep within his chest, and she swallowed it in the kiss. It added fuel to the sexual fire, making them burn hotter.
Holy shit!
Greyson wanted to crawl into her body and never leave. If he could remain like this for the rest of his life, he would. Emma brought something alive that he’d never felt with anyone else.
She was his soul mate.
As she teased, tormented, and lit him aflame, Greyson drove the mating of their mouths. He couldn’t get enough, and he was consuming her.
He needed more.
With each kiss, and taste of his wife, he craved her.
Emma moaned, and then the world tilted. She found herself on her back, pressed into the cushions as she stared up at the man she loved.
“I need you, Emma.”
That was all he had to say. She wanted him more than she wanted to breathe.
Here.
Now.
Forever.
“Yes,” she whispered, running her fingers down the scar on his cheek. “It’ll always be yes. I belong to you, Grey. I’m yours.”
Her admission drove him wild. The need grew, as did the lust.
She was his, and he needed the world to know it. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear.
“Whether you like it or not, Kitten, you are mine. I own you. I own this. The day you said ‘I do’, you promised to be my queen.”
Tears filled her eyes. She loved that about him. While most women didn’t want that possession, she did. Belonging to a man like this was amazing.
It was wickedly delicious.
“You can’t go back. We can only go forward.”
She was good with that.
She’d be a fool to want to run from this. Her husband was smart, powerful, and so very hot.
Emma was a lucky girl.
In that moment, she knew the truth—not only was she owned by this man, and she liked it that way. Greyson was a caveman, and she didn't want a different life. She loved hers with all her heart.
“Make me your queen,” she whispered.
That he could do.
He plundered, his hands wandering across her flesh. He tore her bra off, setting her free for his mouth and teeth to feast on her pale flesh.
Greyson tormented her, nipping her breasts until she was begging him to do more.
Already his hands had the button on her pants open, and he was exploring there too. His touch drove her wild, and him too. Neither of them was immune to the fire.
“Grey!” she moaned, as he stroked her with rough fingers.
God!
What he wanted was to bury himself in her body, taking everything she had to offer. Instead, he was going to make her beg.
Make her moan.
Make her come.
Moving off her body, he yanked her pants free. She sat there in a tiny pair of panties, and he hated seeing them on her body.
Greyson wanted her bare, naked, and his. He wanted to watch that flush of need race across her pale flesh. He needed to know that only he did that to her.
“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said.
“For?”
He struck. The sexy panties didn't stand a chance as he tore them from her. The rendering of material stole both their breaths, as did the sight of him dropping to his knees.
Emma watched, helpless to move. She needed to feel him in her body. That fear and chill were still there and only he could push them from her.
Greyson tugged open his own dress pants as he dropped to his knees. He was hard, like steel and needed to find that release.
As he stroked himself, she closed her eyes, preparing for that delicious slide of him invading.
Only, he wasn’t quite ready yet.
He had to taste her.
Running his finger down the wetness, he was pleased. As long as his wife always wanted him, he’d have a safe place to hide when worries and fears took over. She was his harbor when the world threatened to take him under.
“I need to feel you in me,” she whispered, wanting him to take them both on one hell of a ride. “I have to be taken by the caveman.”
Justice is Dead (Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 7) Page 9
