“Ah, shit.” I trace a red line across her upper thighs where I must’ve pounded her into the sofa frame.
She glances down. “I think it’s fabric burn.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t notice in the moment.” She brushes my hand away. “I’ll be fine. Better my legs than my nipples.”
“Come here.” I pull her closer and lean down, pressing my lips against hers.
She cups my cheek. “I woke a predator, huh?”
“Yeah, you did.”
She flicks her gaze around the living room. One corner of her mouth teases up. “It’s not fair. I need more room or a bigger head start next time.”
I hug her closer. “Doesn’t matter how fast or far you run, buttercup. I’ll always catch you.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Serena
After our wild start to the weekend, we finally sit down to dinner. The potatoes are salvageable, but more cement-like than light and fluffy.
Grayson doesn’t seem to care. “How’d you get the skin like this? Tastes like what I used to only find in a restaurant.”
“It’s a Cargill secret.” I wink at him.
“Cargill.” He seems to roll my name around in his mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever met another one. Where are your people from?”
“My people?”
He shrugs, then moans around a bite of steak. “Good God, Serena.”
“The steak came out okay?”
“Better than okay.” He takes a sip of water. “A popular game inside was listing all the meals you planned to have when you got out. Steak and baked potato was always at the top of my list.”
“I’m glad my instincts were correct.”
He reaches over and covers my hand with his. “I didn’t expect you to go to so much trouble for me. But I really do appreciate it.”
Between his compliments and all the orgasms tonight, I should be glowing like a light bulb any second.
“Your family?” he prompts, reminding me of his earlier question.
“Well, my people were from Pennsylvania. But my mom moved around a lot.”
“You said you went to live with your grandmother when you were a teenager?”
No one has ever paid attention to the things that come out of my mouth the way Grayson does.
Uncomfortable talking about that part of my life, I nod and stuff another piece of steak in my mouth.
“What about your father?”
I shrug.
“Not around?” he persists.
I set my fork down. “Why are you asking? I’m not attracted to you because I need a daddy figure, Grayson.”
His eyes widen and he sits back, staring at me. I hold his gaze for a second, then stab my fork into my over-done potato.
“I was joking when I said that, Serena.”
“Jokes always have an element of truth underneath.”
“That’s…fair, I guess.” He drums his fingers against the table. “But I’m direct when I need to be.”
“I’ve noticed.” I spear a piece of broccoli and twirl it on my fork. “There’s not much to tell about my sperm donor. He was married with kids when my mom got pregnant with me. For a while, he was in and out of my life. His wife and kids weren’t exactly eager to accept me into the family.” I shrug like the rejection doesn’t matter. As an adult, I understand why it was so painfully awkward for everyone. But as an innocent kid, who had no control over the situation, it crushed my soul. “Eventually, he was out for good.”
“That’s terrible, Serena.”
“Yeah, it sucked.” I shrug and force a smile. “I don’t care anymore.”
He grumbles something that sounds like disagreement.
We finish our dinner in silence.
The tension is almost too much to stand. Why’d I have to reveal so much? I hate talking about my family. People either feel sorry for me, look down on me, or want to use it against me somehow.
Grayson slides his hand to my side of the table and runs a finger over my knuckles. “What’s next?” He jerks his head toward the window where the snow’s falling at a steady rate. “Too cold to build a snowman.”
I chuckle, appreciating the light tone after talking about too much darkness. “I bought an apple crumble for dessert. And maybe we could watch a movie? I brought my laptop to hook up to your TV just in case.”
“I’m a little out of touch, so you’ll have to pick the movie. Our entertainment options were limited to local channels and basic cable inside. Movies were usually old and strictly PG.”
“Hmm.” My mind’s already spinning with all the possibilities.
“No crime or gangster films, though. You don’t wanna give me any ideas.” He winks at me. “No prisoner redemption stories, either. Hits too close to home.”
“Gray,” I groan.
“I’m too old for cartoons.”
“You’re narrowing our choices to ‘annoying teenagers picked off by a serial killer’ or ‘superheroes who save the world’ movies.”
“No cheesy movies with men running around in their underwear and a cape.”
I slap my hand over my mouth and giggle. “Oh, Grayson. It’ll be my pleasure to introduce you to Captain Marvel.”