Grey’s soft chuckle sent his breath across Cort’s skin. He rose and stared at the Weaver, taking in his disheveled appearance with something like pride. He’d done that to Grey, put that look of pleasure onto his handsome face. Sweat beaded over Grey’s brows, and his mouth was soft and puffy from all their kisses. He had a red mark on his neck, and his cheeks were still flushed. He leaned and softly kissed those lips. Then he pulled his softened dick from Grey, stretched out next to him, and tugged him into his arms.
“I should wipe you down, but I’m not ready to let go of you yet.”
“I don’t mind the mess,” Grey said, his voice raspy. “Besides, I know you like your post-coital hugs.”
“That I do. Especially with you. I meant what I said earlier. Even if we aren’t soul mates, I want more with you. This is too good not to continue.”
“Even with the danger?”
“It won’t ever be boring, that’s for sure.”
Grey chuckled and ran his hand over Cort’s chest to his stomach. He spread his fingers. “I wish I could see your body, because it feels incredible.”
“Who knows? You could get your sight and not find me attractive.”
“That’s so not possible. I’m already hooked.” Grey lifted his face to Cort’s.
“Good.” Cort kissed his cheekbone, then his nose, before pressing their lips together. His own felt a little raw from all the action and Grey’s stubble, but he didn’t care. Couldn’t help wanting to kiss Grey even more.
Grey touched his face, running his fingers over Cort’s jaw. He pulled away and the smirk twisting his mouth was so damn sexy. “Besides, I know you’re gorgeous, because Lucien was interested in you. Plus, Wiley said you look like an Instagram model.”
Cort felt heat creeping up his neck. “Don’t know about that, but I’m definitely not interested in Lucien. Pretty sure it’s obvious where my interest lies.”
“Maybe just a little.” Grey kept stroking his stomach. “I want to know more about you. What made you go into your field?”
“A man named Jack Benson.”
“A lover?”
“No,” Cort said on a laugh. “Nothing like that. I worked for him when I was a teenager. I always thought I’d go into the healthcare field like my mother—she was a nurse—but getting to know Jack changed my mind. He was blind but always seemed to recognize the customers that came into his deli. He ran the place like you wouldn’t believe and remembered what people liked. Nothing slowed him. Nothing got him down. He told me that after he’d lost his sight as a teenager, he’d given up, and that a vision therapist turned his life around. That’s when I knew what I wanted to do.”
“What brought you to Savannah?”
“A job. My mother died, and my sister moved with her family to Arizona. There was nobody left for me in South Carolina.”
“So no serious boyfriends there?”
Cort wrinkled his nose. “I had one serious relationship at Rosemont, but we parted ways when he returned to California. Since then, I haven’t dated much. What about you?”
Grey propped up on one elbow. “I was always too caught up in my career; then I had the pestilents chasing me. I lived in Oregon before here.”
“Parents?”
“They’re there. We were estranged even before I left. They were never all that interested in having a kid. Not sure why they did.”
“I’m sorry.” Cort touched his face.
Grey kissed the tips of his fingers. “Don’t be. I got over their disinterest a long time ago.”
“I can’t imagine. My mother was always in my business. I think she felt she had to make up for the loss of my dad. He died right after my little sister was born.” He stroked his hand down Grey’s arm. “I’m glad I came here. Glad I met you.”
“If you can say that after this morning, then I must be pretty damn good.” Grey grinned.
“Oh, you definitely are.” He rolled over on top of Grey, having forgotten about the sticky, drying mess on his chest. He grimaced as the cold hit him. “Hold on and I’ll grab something for you.”
“Don’t bother,” Grey whispered. “I think I’m ready to get us all messy again anyway.”Chapter 17Grey rubbed his eyes before sliding his fingers over to dig into his temples. His head was throbbing yet again. It had been aching off and on for nearly three days. Which was exactly how long the warning spell had been wrapped around the property.
And how long Grey had known Clay thought he was a traitor to the Circle.
Not that he’d spoken to Clay about it yet, despite Cort’s prodding and nudging that he should. How the hell was he supposed to approach the man about such an accusation? He wanted to believe he’d misheard Clay completely, but the words were still ringing like a bell in his brain.