Her clothing followed his, and they were both touching and growling in desire. His cock was hard in her hand, his fingers were wet in her folds and played her clit like an instrument, until she was crying and begging for him.
They tried the workout bench—too narrow, the wrong height, too awkward for more than a few desperate strokes. They tried up against the wall, nearly knocking over the weights rack, then finally he was bending her over on the floor itself and entering her from behind, spreading her and biting at her neck until she gave a cry of release and he was joining her in the ecstasy with a roar of his own.
She shuddered through aftershocks, as he slowed his thrusts and fell through the pulses of pleasure with her.
They collapsed to the floor and for a blissful moment, Graham cradled her in his strong arms, holding her close as their heartbeats returned to normal.
Finally he rolled away to lie beside her, and Alice had to fight down her own instinct to snuggle back into his sweaty embrace.
“Where’d you learn to fight?” Alice asked, when she could form words again. “I didn’t recognize your style.” Mostly his style had been ‘destroy the bag,’ but the control and skill had been unmistakable.
The answer surprised her. “Prep school in England.”
“Bullshit,” Alice said, rolling her head to look at him. That was always a mistake, and he was still naked. “You did not go to prep school. And I thought you were American.” She sat up, looking for her clothing instead of staring.
“Not bloody likely,” Graham answered in a breath-taking accent, reaching for his own shirt. “Or at least, not always.” His American accent was good, but now that Alice knew what she was listening for, she could hear the British beneath it.
“Well, that didn’t look like proper British boxing,” Alice said, in her own terrible ‘I’ve watched a little BBC’ accent as they dressed.
“It’s not.” That was a more Graham-like growl, too clipped to reveal any dialect. But to her surprise, he went on. “I... when I was eleven, my father died and it turned out he was badly in debt. I went from king of the school to charity case in a week, and there were a lot of kids—older kids—who were desperate to remind me what an ass I’d been and how far I’d fallen. I got good at hitting back.”
Alice looked at him again, really looked at him, and when he accidentally looked up and met her gaze, he flinched but didn’t look away.
It was a confession, hard-given. Alice blinked in surprise, guessing that Graham had probably never told anyone that.
I love you, he’d told her. And now, more than that, he was telling her he trusted her.
His blue eyes were so full of longing and regret. Alice wanted to reach out, to brush back the mane of his hair and feel his jaw in the palm of her hand.
But that was as dangerous as kissing, and Alice could feel her defenses crumbling already.
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked quietly.
“I want...” he paused, and Alice could see him wrestling with the words. He wanted her, she knew with bone-deep certainty. He wanted more than he could ask. “I want to be honest.”
We should be honest, she’d told him. Her own words, thrust back at her.
But she was afraid of honest. Honest terrified her.
Honest meant admitting she was falling in love with him.
Chapter 18
Graham wasn’t sure what made him tell Alice about school, about losing his father. He hadn’t intended to, not really.
He was just... so tired of trying to hide it all.
Her hazel eyes were a safe place, a haven forever.
Even if she said she didn’t want forever.
They gazed at each other a long moment, and Alice looked down first. Graham waited for her to make an excuse and flee, and was surprised when she didn’t. She sat backwards on a beat-up chair and Graham settled opposite from her on a workout bench.
“My brother and I went to public school,” Alice said quietly. “But kids are kids, and they can be pretty cruel. No one messed with me, but I had to bloody a few noses for my brother. I never learned... real fighting. Just a little schoolyard scrapping. But I was bigger and stronger than other kids, even before I could shift, and I didn’t have to do it much.”
Graham wondered if this the was the place normal people made conversational noises and was glad when Alice went on without prompting.
“My brother, Andy... he’s not a shifter. If he had been...” Alice’s face was complicated.