“Want to head next door?” he asked.
She bit her bottom lip, and he knew he wasn’t going to like what came next. “I asked Rick to take me to meet up with Olivia. She’s done a lot of fundraising for the Thunder, and I figured she’d have some ideas to help me get up and running with the prom for the kids. And Sienna wants to help, so she’s going to join us,” she said of her half sister whose life Avery had saved. Of course it made sense that Sienna would want to join in on the effort to help the kids.
Grey managed an easy shrug. “I have work to do anyway. I got a call from Chloe Mandrake, the lead singer of Night Madness. She wants to talk about me writing for their next album.”
“Grey, that’s great!” Avery’s eyes sparkled with delight at the news.
“She said she loved the work I did with Alden Mills on the Christmas album last year.”
Mills was a reclusive musician renowned for his time with Beyond the Lights, a band from the early seventies whose fame nearly matched the Beatles. They hadn’t lasted long but had had a major impact on anyone in the music scene, old or new. And when he’d contacted Grey through Simon and requested him for his final solo album, a combination of old work and new lyrics, Grey had jumped at the chance.
As it turned out, Alden had been extremely ill, and Grey had done the bulk of the writing on the final songs, allowing joint credit publicly. All Grey had wanted was the opportunity to work and learn from the man’s genius. He’d been in awe of the older man, and they’d kept in touch until his death a few months ago.
“Aren’t you excited?” Avery asked.
“It’s a cool next step,” he said, though his thrill didn’t match Avery’s, his mood tempered by the feeling that she was deliberately keeping her distance.
Then again, she had legitimate work to do, and he was being a selfish ass, wanting to keep her close.
“How about we meet back here for dinner? I’m in the mood for seafood,” he said, coming up with an idea to wine and dine her on the terrace later.
“I’d like that,” she said, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her touch eased the tension that had been building all morning.
“I don’t want my life to screw up yours,” he told her.
“I know it’s a part of you.” She drew a deep breath. “And I’m really trying to deal with it.”
He knew that. He just didn’t know what or who was waiting around the corner to fuck with their happiness.
He dipped his head and slid his lips over hers, unable to stop with one kiss. He smelled his shower gel and shampoo from the night before, lingering. And though he missed her sexy vanilla scent, knowing she was walking around with his scent on her did something to him, and a low growl escaped from the back of his throat.
She broke the kiss and slid her lips down his neck, nuzzling his skin and licking him there. He picked her up and had her back against the wall in a heartbeat. She didn’t complain, so he lifted her skirt and cupped her sex in his hand, her heat, her dampness seeping into his flesh and turning him on beyond anything he’d felt before.
He wanted to own her. To claim and possess her, to brand her so when she walked out that door, she wouldn’t just smell like him, she’d belong to him. And come back to him.
She rocked into his hand, and he yanked at her panties, tearing at the lace until it ripped and the scrap went flying across the room.
She pulled at his shirt and eased her hands beneath, scraping her nails against his nipples, a favorite play of hers, one that drove him mad.
He bit back a groan and slid two fingers into her tight channel. “Fuck, sugar, you’re wet for me.”
She whimpered and tilted her hips forward. He pumped his fingers in and out, enjoying the sounds escaping from her throat. Sex wasn’t the problem between them, and he wasn’t above using whatever did work to bind her to him and make her remember where she belonged.
With each thrust, he curled his fingers against the soft, fleshy part of her that clearly had her grinding against him and begging for more.
“You, Grey, I need you.”
“Need you too.” He stepped away from her only long enough to shove his jeans down his legs, glad he’d gone commando so he could get inside her faster.
He kicked his shorts aside and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he lowered her onto his hard, straining cock. She slid over him, wet and hot, coating him in her slick juices.
“Fuck, baby. I love you.”
She gasped.
Unable to take the words back, unwilling to, he drove into her, slamming her back against the wall, taking her harder with the next thrust, burying himself deep inside her until there was nothing separating them but the barrier of clothing. Everything else he’d stripped bare for her.
She shuddered and writhed around him before she cried out, “I’m coming, God, Grey!”