Mr. Harlow has been listening while gently tapping his fingers against the wooden desktop. “Do you have a list of lands that have already been sold around us?” His voice is gruff and gravely, his frustration is imprinted in the lines on his forehead.
Nodding, I say, “I do, but I left the file in my hotel room. Obviously, I didn’t plan to stay here.”
“No, you planned to waltz in here, dangle money in our face and get a signature, all in a day’s work. Right?” Mason practically spits the question at me.
In my peripheral, I see Mr. Harlow rubbing his fingers across his forehead. “Mason.”
Mason clamps his mouth shut and turns to look out the window. Mr. Harlow looks in my direction. “When the roads are clear enough for Gray to drive you back to your hotel room, can he make copies of that file?”
My heart jumps into my throat. I’m happy to help them, but I’ll probably never see him again after that. Is it fitting that I came here to take their home, but he’s going to drive away with my files and my heart? “Of course.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ELLY
THE HARDNESSpressed against my ass, as well as the giant body I’m tucked into, has my core heating like a damn inferno and I’m not even fully awake yet. Cracking my eyes open and looking at the window confirms the sun hasn’t even kissed the sky yet.
Stretching my back, I push my ass onto him and let out a quiet moan.
“Careful, frostbite, that’s not morning wood, that’s barely-able-to-control-myself need for you that’s hanging by a fine fucking thread.” Gray softly growls in my ear as his hand squeezes my hip.
A smile spreads across my face, and I push onto him and wiggle my hips. “How about I pull that thread?” His fingertips dig into the skin in front of my hipbone and heat floodsmy middle.
It takes all of two seconds for him to line himself up and push into me. I turn my head into my pillow and let out a small moan at the same time his breath heats my neck.
“Always so wet.” He breathes into my ear.
Arching my back even more, we find our rhythm as he hits the spot deep inside me that’s promising to make this the definition of a quickie.
“Gray, I’m not going to last.” I whisper, fisting the sheet in front of me.
He slides his hand from my hip, his finger finding my little bundle of nerves and stroking over it. I see stars as my core spasms around him.
Mumbled obscenities warm my hair, and the unfamiliar feeling of warmth spreads inside me.
I freeze at the same time he does, both of us breathing hard but not moving. “Gray?”
At the same time I say his name, he says, “I forgot the fucking condom.”
Wind rattling the screen on the window and our breathing are the only sounds in the room as the seconds stretch on. Clearing my throat, I say, “I’m on the pill and it’s been a while, I’ve been checked.”
The tension in his body eases and he whispers, “I’ve been checked, too.” He uses his chin to move my hair away from my neck. “I’m sorry.” His lips are soft against my skin, and he wraps his arms around me in a protective hug.
Knowing this is probably the last time I will share a moment like this with him, I roll over to face him and clasp his hand tightly against my chest. Looking at the sparkle of his eyes in the dark room, I push away the increasing fear of the unknown, since he’s taking me back to my hotel today. “It’s okay. I trust you.”
I do trust him. Not only does he show his true colors every minute of every day, I can feel it. I’m safer with himthan I have ever felt with any other man in my life, he would never intentionally hurt me.
Also, he doesn’t take shit from anyone. He’s as open and honest as a man can be.
Gray snuck into my room last night and stayed with me. Waking up to his big, warm body next to mine is quite possibly the best feeling I’ve ever felt. His ease in showing affection goes beyond just sex. It’s like he is learning my needs and wants and committing them to memory.
Over the past two days, I’ve wondered if there could be anything between Gray and I, I almost asked him more than once but I chickened out. The delicate balance we’ve created, like walking on a tightrope, is so fragile that I’m terrified of saying anything to upset the balance.
He peppers a line of kisses across my forehead and temple before he whispers, “I need to get back to my room. You okay?”
I pause before I nod and even though it’s still mostly dark in the room, I smile to back it up, but he notices my hesitation.
He notices everything.
