Take Me With You

by K. A. Linde

  “We can take you home if you’d like,” Joe offered. “Where do you live?”

  I looked between them. My mouth had fallen open, and I quickly recovered. “Thank you. That’s…I appreciate it. I live in Princeton. Downtown.”

  “It’s about an hour drive, but we can get you home safe. Get into the truck, and tell us what you were doing out here, driving around on a motorcycle in this weather.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  Because I was an idiot?

  Because I’d thought a spark of adrenaline and a dose of danger would cure the real heartache?

  Because I’d never realized I wasn’t invincible until that moment my bike tilted and I slid off the road?

  So, I shrugged and climbed inside before giving them the address to my place.

  “Thank you again,” I repeated. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  Sherry turned around in her seat and smiled at me. “No need to repay us. We were happy to find you alive.”

  “Me, too.”

  As they turned the truck around and drove back toward Princeton, I peeled my ruined jacket off my body. I hissed at the pain that shot up my left arm. There was a gash about four inches long. The skin had been scraped back, bleeding a thin trickle of red down my arm, and dirt and debris had collected in the wound. I used my jacket to stanch the bleeding, and I tried to ignore the pain as I pressed down on the injury.

  Everything else hurt, and I was faint and dizzy. When had I last eaten anything? I couldn’t remember. I closed my eyes to try to fight back the pain, but my body slid toward slumber.

  I woke up to the feel of someone lightly shaking me. I must have passed out in the back of the truck.

  “I’m awake,” I grumbled.

  “Maybe we should take him to the hospital,” the woman said. “He’s so banged up. What if there’s internal bleeding?”

  “I’m not forcing him to go, Sherry. Let’s get him inside and make sure he’s all right. If he’s too banged up once you can look at him, then we’ll take him.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  Somehow, I made it out of the truck and inside my house. After Sherry checked me out, she conceded. I needed a shower, some Tylenol—which she located in the cabinet—and a lot of rest. We exchanged numbers, and she promised to call to check on me, and I promised to go to the hospital if anything got worse.

  When they left, I peeled my shirt over my head and stared in horror at myself in the mirror. It wasn’t just my arm. The skin was broken all the way down my chest, ribs, and hip. My ribs were already turning a wonderful shade of purple, and I wondered if I had fractured something. It hurt to breathe, but I didn’t know if it was because it was tender or from something worse.

  After I showered and wrapped up my arm, I came to an abrupt stop in the doorway to the bathroom. My phone. Where the fuck was my phone?

  I patted down the jeans and jacket I had worn, but I found nothing. Shit. I must have lost it on the road.

  I needed to call Ari. I needed to tell her what had happened. I should have asked for Sherry’s phone, but I’d been so out of it up until I took that shower that I couldn’t think in coherent sentences. With the shower and pain medicine working its magic, my thoughts came through with sharp clarity.

  Ari.

  She was what mattered.

  She was all that mattered.

  I threw on another pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and I grabbed a black jacket from the hook. At the last second, I remembered I had bought her a birthday present. I seized that, too, and then darted for my truck.

  This probably wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done, but neither was taking a joyride in shitty conditions and crashing my motorcycle. If I had survived that, I could survive driving to the League…but I couldn’t survive without Ari.

  A cheer went up from the front of the League and gradually grew. I turned around to figure out what was going on, and then I saw him.

  Grant.

  He was here.

  Our eyes locked across the room, and I wasn’t sure what I saw reflected back in his eyes. Desperation, fear, hope—it was a strange combination, one I certainly hadn’t expected after the last time we had parted.

  Ignoring all the people around him, Grant practically bounded across the room until he was directly in front of me. The room fell silent at his approach. My pulse thrummed in my throat, and I swallowed hard. I tilted my chin up to meet him with determination in my face. I was not going to break down. I had no clue what he was going to do, but I could handle it.

  Then, his hands were cupping my cheeks so tenderly that it was as if he thought I might break in half. Without a word, his mouth dropped down on mine, and the kiss was as light as a feather. It was a question, a soft and delicate question, one he had never asked before—permission.

  When I didn’t pull away from him, he received his answer. The kiss deepened, and he coaxed all the anger out of me. He drew it out as if sucking venom from an open wound. He kissed me so heatedly and lovingly that not even a drop remained. All that was left was a bottomless well of emotions of how much I loved and missed him.

  When I came back into the moment, I heard the catcalls and yells from the people around us. It was then I remembered that we were in a crowded room, surrounded by people for my birthday, and Grant had kissed the breath out of me. I flushed from head to toe at the attention, but he wouldn’t let me pull away.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have blown up on you. I shouldn’t have done anything. You’re all that matters.”

  I stared up at him in confusion. “Who are you, and what have you done with Grant McDermott?”

  He laughed that beautiful glorious laugh, and a smile lit up his whole face. It was that damn smile that had won me over in the first place.

  “Run away with me,” he murmured.

  “What?”

  “Run away with me. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Anywhere. Everywhere.”

  “You’re not making any sense,” I said.

  But his determination was contagious. I didn’t even know what he was talking about or what had made him act like this, but I suddenly knew I’d go to the ends of the earth for him.

  “Isn’t that the beauty of it?”

  I shook my head in confusion, but I couldn’t keep a hint of a smile off my face. “I guess. But you set this all up.”

  “And now, I’m stealing you away.”

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me back through the crowd before I could offer an argument. Really, what argument could I have? He had done everything I had hoped for in the span of two minutes, and I had no idea why.

  But I was carried away with being with him. Exhilaration and excitement flared up every time I was around him. It was like the first time all over again—when I had tried so hard to resist him and it was all for naught. Because Grant wasn’t anything like I’d thought he’d be. He loved me, and tonight, it was written all over his face.

  How had I let that slip my mind when we were angry at each other?

  Suddenly we were outside in the bitter cold and I was following him to his blue truck that was illegally parked in front of the building.

  “You weren’t planning on staying long, huh?”

  “Hurst wouldn’t have towed it, but no, I wasn’t.”

  He opened the passenger door for me, and I stared at him.

  “Why are you in such a hurry?”

  “Because I need you, Ari. I need you now. I didn’t see that before.” He ran a hand back through his hair.

  I noticed his knuckles were scraped up, and I wondered if he had been fighting or something. He grabbed my hand and pulled me in closer.

  His gaze was electric. “I was an idiot. We should never have argued like we did. I love you—plain and fucking simple. Everything else, we’ll figure out.”

  “Okay,” I said hesitantly.

  I wasn’t sure what had caused this
complete one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn in him. It was as if the last couple of weeks had never happened, and our relationship was starting over with a clean slate. I appreciated it, but I was also wary of it backfiring in my face.

  “But we’re going to talk more later about what happened, right?”

  He reached out and stroked my hair. “Whatever you want.”

  Then, he was kissing me again. Fire burned through my skin, and I reached out for him. I grasped on to his sides, and a guttural cry broke free from his mouth.

  I stepped back in shock. “Wha-what’s wrong?”

  He held his side. His eyes were closed, and he ground his teeth together.

  “Did something happen?”

  “I’m fine,” he said slowly after a labored minute.

  “You are absolutely not fine. Were you fighting? Did someone hurt you?” I asked. Terror washed over my features.

  “No, no fighting. This is all my doing. Let’s talk about it when we get back to my place.”

  “Are you okay to drive?”

  “Ari,” he said softly. The pain was gone from his face, but I didn’t know if he was hiding it or if it was gone from his body, too. “We’ll talk once we get there.”

  “All right.” I hopped into the car without complaint only because I didn’t think he would give up information otherwise. I didn’t want him to be hurt. That cry had been inhuman.

  When Grant sat down in the driver’s seat, he handed me a large plain brown box. “Here, I, uh…got this for you.”

  I took the box from him as he drove down the street. After everything that had happened between us, I was still a bit in shock over the lengths he had gone to for my birthday. First, the surprise party—which we hadn’t even stayed at—and now, a gift, a pretty big one by the size of the box.

  “Thank you.” I found the lip of the box and tugged it up. Inside, the present was wrapped in dark blue tissue paper. I was surprised he had splurged on tissue paper. It seemed to contradict the plain box, but it made me smile nonetheless.

  I carefully tore the paper aside and pulled the contents out of the box. Unrolling the hastily put together package, my mouth dropped open when I realized what I was holding in my hand—a black leather jacket. The sleeves were quilted. There were double buckles at the wrists and one across the back. The jacket was a moto design that crossed the body and zipped up the left side with a wide open collar. I brought it to my nose and inhaled. The smell of new leather was unbelievable, and the whole thing was so amazingly soft.

  “Wow.”

  He glanced over at me. Concern creased his features. “Wow, good? Or wow, this sucks? Why would you ever get this for me? It’s so dumb.”

  It wasn’t me at all. I would never have bought myself something like this. It had grunge and rocker written all over it. I also tended to prefer faux leather—not that I was an animal rights activist by any means, but it was how I’d been raised.

  But it was from Grant.

  “It’s…beautiful.”

  “Are you just saying that?”

  “Would I do that?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “I love your cardigans, Princess, but I think you’d look fucking hot in leather.”

  I laughed. “When you say that, I imagine you’re not thinking about a leather jacket.”

  He smirked. “I’m imagining you naked.”

  Of course he was.

  My cheeks heated as I slung the jacket on. It fit perfectly. It was warm and molded to my body. Considering I hadn’t even asked for a present, this was pretty amazing. Grant couldn’t have done better.

  I reached out for his hand and linked out fingers. I knew I needed to talk about our argument even if Grant didn’t want to discuss it. “Grant, I’m sorry about this weekend.”

  “It’s okay,” he said dismissively. “We just got into an argument.”

  “I know. I…feel like we should have talked about it afterward.”

  “Well, I went to your hotel, and no one would let me contact you. Plus, you never answered your phone.”

  “It was stupid. I just wanted to sleep.”

  “Sleep.” Despite how loving he’d sounded just a minute before, his face looked tense and tight.

  “What?”

  “I waited for you almost all night. The doorman said Henry went upstairs with you, and he never came back downstairs.”

  “You waited all night?” I asked, my heart contracting.

  “Yeah, more or less. Uh…were you with Henry?” he asked.

  I could tell he wasn’t trying to accuse me, and I felt so terribly bad for not calling him.

  “No. He tried to kiss me, and he tried to force me to let him stay.” I shuddered at the memory. “But he had a room in the same hotel. That’s why he never left.”

  It was like a weight he had been carrying around all week had suddenly been lifted. I brought his hand to my lips and softly kissed it.

  “I love you, Grant. We might have been in an argument, but I would never do that to you.”

  “I know,” he said at last. “I know. I love you, too.”

  And the sigh out of his mouth showed how utterly relieved he was.

  When Grant finally pulled up in front of his place, he eagerly escorted me out of the car, inside, and up to his bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind me and removed the jacket he had given to me. My fingers worked just as quickly, stripping him out of his own jacket and reaching for the button on his jeans.

  His lips found mine again, and all the gentleness from earlier was gone. He kissed me with primal desire. He wanted me, and nothing would stand in the way. His hands tugged on the new dress the girls had gotten me to wear tonight. I found the zipper and tugged it down to the base of my spine where Grant then dropped the material to my feet.

  His hands grasped my breasts, and he massaged them. He rolled the nipples around between his fingers, causing me to squirm, but he kept kissing me. He dragged my bottom lip between his teeth. My eyes fluttered closed at the practiced ease with which he ignited my body.

  Soon, he released my lip and dropped his mouth to the hollow of my throat. Then, he replaced his hand with his tongue. He circled my nipple and then lightly tugged on it. I shook with desire.

  God, how did he do that so well?

  My mind was having a hard time coming up with any logical thoughts, except that Grant was pretty amazing at this and my body had missed him.

  Grant pushed me backward, so I was lying on my back on his bed. He grasped my panties and tugged them to the ground, and then he hitched my legs up onto his shoulders. There was only a second before his tongue touched my clit, and I was arching off the bed. His fingers probed inside me, and then I felt the world spinning.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed.

  With Grant, I had learned to just let him have his way with me. He liked to get me so worked up that I thought the world was going to shatter all around me. I already felt as if I was reaching that point.

  “Are you going to come for me, Princess?” he murmured between my legs.

  “Come with me,” I pleaded.

  I dug my fingers into his hair, hoping to coax him upward, but he just flicked his tongue across my clit again and again.

  “Please…”

  But he didn’t listen to my begging. He worked on my body until I was soaking wet, soaring through my climax, and panting on the covers.

  Grant dropped his pants and then crawled onto the bed, lying down flat. His dick was hard and throbbing, and I got to my knees, reaching out and grasping him in my hand. He groaned and grabbed me by the hips, positioning me on top of him. I slipped against him, coating him with the wetness he had created between my thighs, before slowly dropping down on top of him.

  “Fuck, Princess.”

  I lay there for a minute without moving, feeling how deep he was inside of me. A few months ago, I hadn’t felt this comfortable in my own skin. But how could I not be when Grant
was staring up at me as if I were a real-life princess? I was one who he had properly deflowered, and he was ready to make me into his own sex goddess. It was enough of a boost of confidence to make me forget about clinging to my apprehensions.

  Grant’s hands slid up my bare back, and he drew me down to rest lightly on his chest. I ran my fingers up into his hair. He cast soft butterfly-light kisses all over my face, and his right hand brushed the hair out of my eyes.

  “I love you,” he murmured in a sexy dazed voice.

  “I love you, too.”

  Then, he started moving. Slow, languid movements were in direct contrast with the way he normally took me. He wanted to take his time. He wanted to feel us skin-to-skin—my breasts against his chest, my fingers in his hair, his dick slipping in and out of my body. Our eyes locked, and I knew then that Grant wasn’t fucking me. Our bodies might be meeting in time, but this wasn’t just sex for him—or for me.

  We were making love. Our hearts were connecting. And if the world ended in that moment, we would be at peace.

  The orgasm that rocked through my body made me cry out and clutch on to Grant for support. He came with me, burying his head in my neck. I rocked back onto him one last time and then collapsed as if I’d just run a marathon.

  He groaned in pain. “Ari, can’t…I can’t breathe.”

  I sat up immediately. “Are you okay?”

  In the midst of our sexual encounter, I’d forgotten that Grant was in pain. Oh God, had everything we done made it worse?

  “I’m fine, Princess. Go clean up, and we’ll talk.”

  I stared down at him, concerned, but he nudged me off of him.

  “Go on.”

  I dutifully cleaned up in his bathroom. When I returned, Grant had a soft light on in the room, and it was the first time I got a glimpse of his body.

  I gasped in horror, and my hand went to my mouth. “Oh my God! What happened?”

  He looked bruised from head to toe. His arm was bandaged. How had I not noticed his arm was wrapped up? Jesus, I must have been so desperate that I had let this go on while he was injured.

  A phone rang loudly from under the bed. Grant scrunched up his features. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “What?”