Page 125 of Crossfire

“You need to seriously work on your romantic lines.”

His mouth curled up on one side again.

I glanced around the windows, part of me wanting a car to come along to stop whatever was happening here.

Most of me dreading that one might…

I couldn’t forgive him for what he did. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t…

Right?

He cupped my left breast, eliciting a breathless gasp. His mouth suddenly hovered just above mine, his hot breath caressing my lips. An ache bloomed in my lower belly, spreading like wildfire to the space between my thighs.

This is wrong. Wrong to feel anything other than anger.

“And what about now?” Grayson squeezed my breast harder, causing a momentary biting pain. “Do you hate me now?”

All I could do was breathe through the arousal—which, evidently, was also linked to those good feelings for him. The ones where I felt protected and cherished.

I shut my eyes, willing it to go away, but he trailed his hand down my sternum, down my belly, to the top of my pants.

His fingertips pulled my waistband back, only slightly, and when I opened my eyes, he was staring into mine, measuring my reaction.

I didn’t understand what was going on in my heart or soul anymore. I didn’t understand logic or reason, just…pure, unadulterated desire.

Desire stronger than I’d ever felt for anyone before.

Maybe it was some sort of a chemical reaction, heightened when life or death hung in the balance almost every time we were together. Or maybe there was something about Grayson that unlocked a sensual side of me I had never explored before.

Either way, it was crazy that I was still attracted to Grayson. It was psychotic that his apology felt genuine and even…normal, in the context of our very abnormal relationship. But I think what was most psychotic was how badly I ached to feel him inside me again. I wanted to feel his lips on my neck, his tongue on my nipples, my body stretching around him as I arched my back with each thrust until it quivered into an explosive orgasm around him.

Grayson looked at my lips, glanced at my eyes one more time, and then tilted his head to the side, pressing his mouth against mine. With his free hand, he unbuckled my seat belt and slipped his hand beneath my panties, sliding one finger between my thighs.

Groaning when he felt how ready for him I was.

“You like this, don’t you?” he growled into my mouth. “Being mad at me.”

“No,” I claimed.

I could feel the curl of his lips as he whispered, “Liar.”

He breached my entrance, making me suck in a ragged breath as he slipped his finger inside of me.

The ache between my legs intensified.

But he held his hand still, torturing me.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice was a low, growly command.

I tried not to say it. I tried to breathe through my arousal, but the thread of resistance snapped when he pushed his hand harder against me, the heel of his palm hitting that sensitive bud.

“Say it, or I’ll stop,” he threatened.

“I want you inside of me,” I admitted against his lips.

He rewarded me by adding a second finger and began a slow, agonizing pump.

Oh my g…