Grip Trilogy Box Set

“Grip, you know I got a key.” Amir’s irritated voice comes through the speakers. “Got me standing out here waiting on your ass. I’m coming in.”

The front door beeps when it opens, and the sound of Amir’s heavy footsteps climb the stairs ahead of him.

“Dammit.” Grip pulls the sheet over me and bounds off the bed, crossing swiftly to the open door of his bedroom.

“Grip, you taking a shit or what?” Amir reaches the door just as Grip does, his wide eyes connecting with mine over Grip’s shoulder. “Oh, hell. I’m sorry, bruh.”

My cheeks burn. I tug the sheet tighter over my breasts and lift my chin, refusing to hide. From the rest of the world, yes. From one of Grip’s most trusted friends who has seen all the bumps in our road, no.

“Out.” Grip shoves Amir’s shoulder, pushing him back onto the landing overlooking the open floor below. He gives me a quick glance over his shoulder, his mouth set. “Sorry ’bout that.”

The door closes behind them, and my embarrassment whooshes out of me on a lengthened breath. The door pops open, and Grip sticks his head back in.

“Shower and get dressed. If we leave soon, we won’t be late.” Chagrin twists his lips and pushes his brows up. “And I’m sorry again about . . .”

He points a thumb out the door.

“It’s okay.” I muster a weak smile. “How should I dress? Where are we going?”

“Remember? Surprise.” A devilish grin widens on his face. “Just be beautiful.”

I slip on a silk robe against the slight morning chill. When I walk into Grip’s massive closet, his prized shoe collection takes up an entire wall. My eyes immediately go to the gap he left for me to hang the things he suggested I bring and leave at his place. This is happening fast. I mean, I know it’s been coming for years, but still.

“What are you doing, Bristol?” I ask myself, dropping to the bench planted in the middle of the closet, toying with the belt of my robe. “Are you sure about this?”

Amir showed up, the first contact we’ve had with the outside world in two days, and all my insecurities and doubts followed him through the front door. Are things really so different than they were before I told Grip how I feel? He’s still a star with an all-access pussy pass. Still the kind of man who, even if he weren’t famous, would attract women effortlessly. I’m still the girl who can’t draw lines around her heart where he’s concerned.

“Hey.” Grip props a shoulder at the arched entrance of the closet. “You’re supposed to be in the shower by now. I was hoping to ambush you all wet and naked.”

“Um, I was just wondering what Amir said?” I wrinkle my brows. “What did he think?”

“I’m pretty sure his exact words were, ‘Took you long enough, pussy.’”

His teasing grin melts when I don’t manage a smile back, too disoriented now that the sex haze has cleared. He walks deeper into the closet and sits beside me, taking my hand. He kisses the inside of my wrist and clasps an arm around my shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug and press into the warm strength of his chest. The longer I’m tucked into his arms, the faster my fears drain away. “I guess seeing Amir just reminded me that there’s a world out there that will be hard for us to navigate.”

“Just out there?” He lays his lips against my temple. “What about the world in here? In your head?”

I glance up at him and hate seeing the guard going up in his eyes.

“I told you I’m not letting you go again, Bristol.” The strain in his voice tightens his lips. “You don’t get to have second thoughts. You can’t—”

I grab his neck and slant my lips over his, invading the warm silkiness of his mouth, aggressively thrusting and seeking. Passionate. Certain. I’ve allowed these fears to rule me for years, to delay this for years. I’m not giving into them again. I won’t ruin this. Grip said my capacity to love can be a strength. I’ll let him show me how.

He hums against my lips, a greedy sound as his hands brand my back through the silk robe. He digs into my hips, molds my thighs and arms, possession in every touch. He pulls out of the kiss, cupping my chin and forcing my eyes to his.

“You can’t take this away from me. Not again.” His jaw clenches. “You start having doubts about me, about us, we talk about it. It’s one thing to have to negotiate the Qwest situation or the pressures that come with this industry. Those aren’t the things that kept us apart. I can fight all of that. I can’t fight you.”

“I know,” I whisper. “I was having doubts for a minute.”

“Was?” He’s watchful and waiting. “Not anymore?”

“Not anymore.” I lean in for another kiss, and his hand presses at the back of my head when I would pull away, maintaining the sweet contact. Ravishing my lips until they throb in time with the rhythm of our kiss.

“Don’t doubt me, Bris.”