I pushed off the counter to stand before her, forcing her head to tilt up to look at me. I ran my hand over the back of my neck. “I'm not touching you because if I put my hands on you, I won’t stop.”
“Oh,” she whispered, her eyes shifting from wary to soft and a little bit tender.
“Yeah, oh. Look at you.” I pointed at her before crossing my arms, a safe place for them away from her. “Your hair is all tousled and smells like heaven, your mouth is all swollen from my kisses. Mine. I can’t miss your hard nipples through that skimpy little top and your legs. Jesus, your legs are spread like you want to be fucked, and I ache to step between them again.”
Of course, as soon as I said all that she crossed her arms over her chest and clamped her legs shut. Good, now she could see how fucking dangerous she was.
“You don’t mind that I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“You think it bothers me that you’re inexperienced?”
She nodded.
I smiled at her, and my heart hurt, wishing I could chase the shadows away. I would. I would take all those feelings of self-doubt away, one kiss, one touch at a time.
“I’m going to love seeing what makes you hot. What gets you wet. What makes you come.”
13
EMORY
* * *
“It’s been five days. Five days, Em, and now you’re telling me?” Christy pointed her fork at me. “I mean, he’s seriously hot.”
I glanced around, seeing if anyone else in the hospital cafeteria was paying attention to us. I felt uncomfortable enough sharing the details about Gray with my friend and didn’t want anyone else at the hospital to know either. It wasn't that I didn't want to tell her, I just had a hard time tell
ing anyone. How did I explain it? How did I explain him? The connection? The chemistry?
“I barely said more than goodbye to you at the party after he and I talked, and besides, it’s not like I left with him.” I stabbed my fork into the leftover pasta, spun it in circles so it wound around it.
“You went out to lunch with him on Sunday, and he was at your house for dinner last night!”
Thankfully, my mouth was full of the spaghetti from the diner, so all I had to do was nod.
“Is he,” Christy looked left and right, then leaned in. “Is he… good?”
My cheeks heated a bit, but I was more amused than embarrassed. She, too, was curious about The Outlaw. Then I thought about the kiss in my kitchen, and I went a little hot and dreamy. That had been the only one of the night besides when he kissed my forehead when he left at a tame hour of nine-thirty.
“We haven’t done anything,” I replied. The kiss was mine, a little secret I shared with Gray, and I didn’t want to do anything to ruin it by having Christy know about it.
“Is he gay?” Her voice rose at the question and a few heads turned.
I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest, slowly shaking my head. “No.” I laughed because I’d questioned the same thing. And the kiss we shared? He was definitely not gay.
“Then why not?”
I knew what she meant. Why not sleep with him?
“Is it because he’s… him? I know he dresses like a cowboy and all, but he makes it hot as hell. And, I mean, he's the biggest MMA guy in like, eons!”
“I didn’t know who he was.” I glanced at my watch. I had fifteen minutes until I had to get back to the ER. Christy was still in administration, so while I sat there in a pair of pink scrubs, she wore a skirt and blouse.
Her fork froze halfway to her mouth. “You didn’t… even I know who he is! I mean… he’s the… The Outlaw.” She whispered his name, and for that I was thankful. I didn’t need anyone to know I was even talking to Grayson Green, let alone seeing him. Or dating him, not-dating him or whatever it was we were doing. We were kissing. No, we kissed. One time. “He’s drop-dead gorgeous, if you go for that bad-boy-fighter-who’s-a-cowboy-and-hot-as-holy-shit type.” She used air quotes as she described him. “Have you seen him in a snap shirt?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Have you seen all the women that hang all over him?”