“You’re fucking perfect.” He meant the words, too, and that scared him.
Shut up. He kissed her because he wasn’t sure what might come out of his mouth and more to shut himself up than her. Plus, talking wasn’t happening anymore. Her body clung to his, squeezing his dick in a greedy grip. The pleasure hit him out of nowhere, pleasure with a side of something else. Satisfaction, possession, who-the-hell-knew-what, because she dropped her hands from the wall and linked them around his neck.
“Gray.” She whispered his name, and the heartfelt shudder was better than any scream he’d heard. Quiet satisfaction tore through him as she angled down toward him and she came, just like that, her eyes drifting shut. He wanted to know what she saw, what she was thinking of. Him, he hoped. Her pussy squeezed him and there was no holding off his own release. Instead, he buried his face against her throat, coming undone with her.
7
HOLY...WOW. THE MAN had turned her inside out. Rendered her boneless. He’d taken charge and stripped her of every ounce of self-control she possessed. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“That was fantastic,” she said, because she felt the need to say something. To fill up the silence because he was staring at her, and she had no idea what he was thinking. She also felt more than a little ridiculous. She’d asked him for rough sex and, boy, had he delivered. The problem was that there was absolutely no graceful way to slide down the wall afterward and pretend she hadn’t been shamelessly begging him to give it to me harder mere seconds ago.
Clothes. She needed clothes.
And space. Lots and lots of space.
“Tell me what worked for you,” she said instead. He bent his knees and gently lowered her to the floor. One problem solved. Treat this like any other operation. Review what happened. Identify areas to improve. “No. Wait. Hold that thought.”
Donning some clothes seemed prudent before they started dissecting sex acts. She padded into the bathroom to grab a robe for them both. The his-and-her matched set hanging on the wall no longer seemed like a reminder of the love life she didn’t have. Holy moly. What happened next now that the hot, spontaneous vacation hookup part of their evening was over? Because she wasn’t ready to go to sleep—or to say goodbye to Gray.
Instead, she was recharged and full of energy. If the regrets hit tomorrow, she’d deal with them then. She liked the new Laney Parker, the woman who wasn’t afraid to drag a sexy stranger into her bungalow and let him have his wicked way with her. She could worry about life and unemployment later. Or whether Gray intended to spend the night or not.
Don’t overthink this. She snatched the robes from their matching hooks in the bathroom and slid into hers. Damn it. Should she tie the sash? Sashay back on out into the bedroom half-naked and give Gray ideas about doing it again? Find a pair of silky panties and slip into them? Really, she had no idea how other women handled this. When she walked out, tying the robe closed, he lounged on the bed. His new position gave her an awesome view of his big, powerful body. Not for the first time, she wondered what a masseuse had to do in his spare time to get that kind of physique. He’d zipped his pants back up, but hadn’t bothered with his shirt. She took a good look, admiring the picture he made, even while the questions racked up. From the scars on his body, he’d been a frequent flyer at his local ER. In addition to the scars she’d already noticed on the beach, he had more scars on his rib cage and an exit wound on his right shoulder. Plus, he wore dog tags she’d noticed earlier.
She tried to keep the question in, but the words flew out, anyhow. “Where did you serve?”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”
It kind of did to her, part of that whole get to know Gray better plan. His battle scars said he’d been places, done things that he definitely hadn’t shared. And, while it really wasn’t any of her business, she was curious, and all that raw strength was attractive. He’d scooped her up effortlessly and held her against the wall. She wasn’t a tiny woman, but he made her feel feminine and small in a way that was a delicious treat. Gray was chocolate cake after a diet. She couldn’t do it often, but once in a while...it was okay to cheat and have things that were bad for her.
And he was very, very bad.
“Laney.” He ground out her name. She might have forgotten positively everything in his arms—right down to her surroundings and her dignity—but she knew her own name, so she ignored him.
She perched on the edge of the bed and crossed one leg over the other. “If you won’t tell me about your scars, give me the evening’s highlights.”