Page 6 of Holiday Sorrow


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A shiver wracked through her, and Grant’s arm around her tightened.

“I think that’s all we need, right?” he asked his colleagues pointedly.

“Yes. If you think of anything else, or you need anything, then don’t hesitate to call, Ms. Davidson,” the older man told her. “Here’s a card for a victims’ support group if you feel like it’s something that would benefit you.”

With a shaking hand, she reached out and took it. She had no idea if she would use it, but it would be rude not to take it. Tucking it into her purse, she went to slide out of Grant’s car, and although his grip tightened once again, he then took a deep breath and let her go.

“You want me to call your brother? Your mom?” he asked. When she shook her head, he glanced over at her car. “Want me to follow you to your place?”

“No!” The word burst out of her, and she shook her head vehemently.

“Okay then,” he said, looking defeated and disappointed. “You can call if you need anything.”

“Wait.” Grabbing his arm when he went to move, she held onto him, needing his steady presence. “The no was for driving my car. I don’t think … I can't … after what … I don’t want the car anymore. I'm going to sell it.” It would be a reminder of what had almost happened to her today. What would have happened if Grant hadn't shown up.

“Okay then,” he repeated, only this time he sounded much more relaxed. Happier even. “Can I drive you home?”

“Is it too much of a bother?”

“Not a bother at all.”

“Then I’d like that.” She offered him a shy smile. Unlike at her brother’s wedding, she wasn't wearing all her armor so she didn't feel confident. There was blood on her clothes, a bandage on her neck, she was shaky and scared. There was nothing attractive about her right now.

Guiding her into the front seat of his vehicle, once she gave him her address, he programmed it into the GPS, and they rode in a companionable silence. There was so much she wanted to say, questions she wanted to ask, wanted desperately to know if he’d thought about her at all in the last few months and confess he’d been nearly constantly on her mind.

Instead, she said nothing, just fiddled idly with the hem of her sweater, and wished she lived further away so she could spend more time with Grant. The fifteen minutes it took to drive to her place didn't feel like enough, and when he parked out front of her building, she didn't want to leave the safety of his car.

“I can walk you up,” he offered, and her gaze snapped to his.

“If it’s not a bother.”

“Not a bother at all.”

His fingers closed around hers as they crossed the street and walked into her building. Her penthouse apartment was beautiful, but felt so lonely lately, and when they climbed out of the elevator she didn't want to let him go.

“Please,” she whimpered as she pressed her lips to his. Not really sure what she was even asking for. All Ashlyn knew was that she needed to rid herself of the trauma that had been this afternoon.

“Honey, you were just?—”

“Don’t care. Want you. Need you. Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” When her hands fumbled with his zipper, he didn't stop her, and when she reached into his boxers and freed his length, it was already growing hard.

She didn't want this sweet and slow, didn't want to make love, just wanted him inside her, filling her up, cleaning away the filth of the day. Shoving down her own jeans and panties, when she grabbed his length again, he growled.

“Tell me you're sure,” he ordered.

“Surer than anything else in my life.”

At her words, he grabbed her hips and lifted her off the floor. Automatically, her hands grabbed at his shoulders, and her legs wrapped around his waist. Adjusting herself, she took him inside her in one smooth move.

“Condom, Ash,” he growled.

“I'm clean and on birth control,” she assured him. She got it, he had two kids with a wife he loved and wasn't looking for a baby. Neither was she. Well, at least not under these circumstances.

“I'm clean too,” he told her.

“Perfect.” Unable to hold back, she began to move her hips, urging him to meet her thrust for thrust.

“Play with yourself, I'm not going to last long,” he commanded, and like she was helpless to do anything but obey, one of her hands moved to touch herself where their bodies joined.