“And terrifying. I’m not one to get my cage rattled, but when I suspected a serial killer was targeting you—Fuck.” He holds me tighter. “After the pieces were glued together, we had an alarming picture. We were dealing with someone smart—someone cold, who’d killed multiple times and always gotten away. And given his preferences, we knew that no matter how long he hid, Lonnie would always be around, waiting. And while he did shoot me, he didn’t really want me, he just wanted me out of the way. So, I could have walked around until my feet bled, but it wouldn’t have worked. He wanted to think he could get to you and you alone. It became a scramble to figure out how to draw him into the open. The night you waited for me and commented on my suit was the night we changed our tactic and decided we’d make it look like he could have you.”
My mind flashes back to the rumpled and stained dress shirt. Combined with his hair, I assumed nothing but the worst.
“They talked for hours, convincing me that you were not to be informed. That you knowing was more a liability, and that if you didn’t act a certain way, Lonnie would kill you before we had chance to move in. We had to leave you in the dark.” He takes a tight swallow. “I hated it so much. Nearly lost my shit a couple of times.”
Guilt twangs away in my chest, and I hate myself for my reaction. The disheveled appearance I saw when he walked in that night … he was distressed, trying to do everything he could to protect me, and I accused him of cheating. I missed all the signs. All because I was too wrapped up in my own problems. I plant a reverent kiss on his bare chest and squeeze my eyes closed.
Then the way he allowed me to fuck him in anger, when he did nothing to warrant that reaction from me. God, what did I do to have him. “Grant, I'm so sorry.”
“No,” he says in refusal. “I'm sorry. Sorry I couldn't think of a different way. One less traumatizing and dangerous. I—” His voice cuts out, and he brings our foreheads together. “Shit, Olivia. I'm so sorry.” His body shakes with grief.
“Stop.” I cup his face. “Lonnie would have killed me if not for you. I owe you my life, and for that, I love you even more.”
I kiss him until his lips soften against mine, my hands resting around his neck, fingertips brushing against his shapely jaw with a featherlight touch. His hand, soft and warm, slinks down the side of the body, finally resting in the dip of my waist. Need strikes like a match when his fingertips curl through my sleep shirt and press into my skin.
Crazy as it seems, we haven't had sex since the ordeal. All we've done is sleep in each other's arms, but what burns in me now is a desperate hunger to lose myself in this man.
I hitch my leg over his thigh and trail my hands down his torso. My fingers tug at the waistband of his briefs, and his body responds to my signals and touch. Yet he pulls away.
“Olivia, if you’re struggling, I don’t want to hurt—”
“Shut up.” I grind against his already hard cock, loving the dampness I feel on his briefs from his pre-cum. “We need each other. Not having you right now is what’s hurting me.”
“Thank God.” White moonlight spills across him, revealing the strain pulling across his face. “I’m about to go crazy without you.” His mouth devours mine in a mind-melding kiss.
He tastes like my completion and happy ending, and instantly, our bodies twist and wind around each other. The sheet flails as he flips me so I’m on my back. The beats of my heart blast at my ribs as Grant peels his briefs off, and I watch his erection bounce in the moonlight.
I sigh at how perfect he is for me and toss my arms above my head, almost purring. “I fucking love you.”
My breath catches as he drags two fingers between my breasts down to the opening of my pussy. “And I love you. Anything for you, Olivia—fucking anything.”
I grip my hand around his length, not able to wait anymore, completely over sweet talking and promises. Our stances and bond are crystal clear—I simply want him. And that’s what I get, guiding him in.
The perfect stretch, the most delectable fullness, and a length that nearly doesn’t stop in time.
Grant’s already shaking as he tilts his head back and groans fuck in a soft, heart-melting tone. And his first pump in and out is so gentle, it’s like our first time together.
I melt beneath him as he takes us to places only he can. A place where beautiful darkness engulfs me. Shutting out the world and its ugliness. The cracks of light that occur are when I surrender to the waves of pleasure. The ones that leave me shaking and unraveled as I beg for more, until there is no more left, and everything else does indeed die. Grant being the only thing that remains. Exactly what I needed.
And for what might be the last time, we make love sweetly, tenderly, whispering, “I love yous” through whimpers and moans.
We last all night with the moonlight, twinkling skies, and shimmering water as our witnesses, and at last, I finally know what it means to soar and not come down.