Grayson's Surrender
Page 29

"I thought you'd left."
"They have phones in Washington."
"Yes, they do, and you could have picked up one of those phones anytime—" Her temper disintegrated. "You're not in Washington."
"No." He stepped toward her. Closer. "I'm not."
No. He wasn't. He was standing right in front of her, tall and real after she had missed him two years' worth in those two weeks. "Why?"
"House hunting can wait. You know how I feel about shopping, anyway." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "And I needed to know, so I flew back."
Lori clenched her fists by her sides, determined not to let her hands fall on his chest. Even in civilian clothes, he turned her heart to mush. The khakis and green polo couldn't disguise his military bearing. More than the haircut, his walk, very stance, proclaimed his warrior spirit, and he could too easily mesmerize her.
She tore her gaze away and scooped toys off the floor with a frantic pace—Barbies, coloring books, a bucket of crayons all landed in a wicker basket.
"Where's Magda?" He followed her restless path.
"With Julia." Lori pitched a toy bottle onto the haphazard heap.
Her call to Julia, in hopes of finding out about Gray, had rekindled their friendship. It felt good having a friend to count on for help, especially now. Gray had taught her that, about making friends. If only she could learn how to keep them.
"Lori. Lori! Will you look at me, please?" He grasped her arm and eased her to her feet. "I've come a helluva long way to see you. We're not going to replay our mistake from last year by both being too hardheaded to talk."
Each rise and fall of his chest brought him closer for a tantalizing second. She held herself still. No way was she going to throw herself at him, no matter how hot he looked in those khakis.
Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand, his fingers sliding under her braid to cup her head. She couldn't move, could barely breathe. "Gray? Why didn't you just call instead of flying all this way?"
"I wish I knew. I only know I just can't stay away."
He palmed her head, his eyes filled with a confusion so unlike her normally confident man she almost didn't recognize him. She couldn't have stopped herself from speaking if she tried. She didn't try very hard at all. "I missed you, too."
His mouth crashed down on hers.
All good intentions flew out the window as she surrendered to his kiss. She'd ached for him so damned much.
Tongues dancing, dipping, tasting, Lori locked her arms around him. Gray backed her down the hall, feet tangling on their way to her room. Her knees hooked on her mattress and she fell onto her bed, Gray's body a solid, delicious weight pressing her into the eiderdown comforter.
Their hands peeled away clothing with frantic need, his shoes thudding to the floor, Lori kicking away her light linen pants. His starched khakis rasped against her tender thighs.
Somewhere between kisses, her hands worked his pants off and down his powerful legs. Her lips tore free only long enough to whip his shirt overhead. She flung it aside and reclaimed his mouth for another deep, moist kiss.
Gray opened her silk shirt to uncover more silk. He charted a path down her jaw, her shoulder. Her breath hooked somewhere short of her throat, her br**sts tightening in anticipation just before his mouth closed over her.
Damp and warm silk clung to her skin with each tugging draw of his mouth. Her back bowed against him, impatient need taut within her.
"Lori." He breathed her name over the moist fabric. "Just a second, hon."
Gray rolled off her, her hands following him, scratching a light trail down his back. He glanced over his shoulder. "Hold that thought."
Scooping his pants from the floor, he tugged his wallet free and withdrew a single packet. He turned to her, flipping the condom between his fingers. An apology lit his eyes. "I just think—"
"Wait." She scooted from beneath him to reach into her bedside table drawer and pulled free a box. She refused to remember other arguments about birth control and children. The past could stay out of her bedroom for the moment. She had other plans for Gray. Lori scored her nails down his chest, raking gently lower.
A growl rumbling in Gray's throat, he pulled the box from her hands and tossed it on the bedside table along with his lone offering. "Slow down, hon. No rushing this time."
Would it be their last time? Lori shoved away the icy thought.
Snagging the bottle of lotion from beside her lamp, he turned, tossing the bottle from hand to hand. Every inch of Lori's body tingled in anticipation. No doubt they were falling into an old habit of escaping problems through sex, but at the moment she just didn't care.
The bottle held high, he drizzled a stream into his open palm. His eyes gleamed as he rubbed his hands together, warming the lotion, warming her with his gaze.
He lifted her foot, cradling it like an antique china cup from her knickknack shelf. Strong fingers worked over her skin. Smooth lotion and callused hands rubbed a dichotomy of sensations along her nerves. Immersed in his touch and the scent of peaches, she could only close her eyes and moan.
Gray worked up her toes, along the top of her foot. "Metatarsal."
Lori's eyes snapped open. "What?"
Someone needed to tell him his language of love was sorely lacking.
He raised her foot to his mouth and kissed along her ankle reverently. "Tarsal. Special. Because it's yours."
She melted, totally and completely. Forget language. His hands spoke sonnets. His mouth kissed poetry.
"Fibula. Slim and perfect." His thumbs worked up her calf with tender reverence. Those doctor hands were so adept in nuances of the human body, and she reaped the full benefit of his training.
His mouth found her knee, working from front to back, tearing a low moan from her throat. An echoing groan rumbled in his throat. "Patella. So sensitive."
She totally agreed.
His fingers massaged a trek of homage up her thigh, higher, closer. "Femur and soft, creamy-white skin."
Lori slid her lazy lids open. "Pelvis?"
She knew that one and was past ready for him to find it.
Gray shook his head and cupped her waist. With slow deliberation, he rolled her to her stomach, her braid whipping to the side. His palm anchored her to the bed. Not that she could have moved her languid limbs.
She saw him reach for the bottle again just before she felt the cool trickle of lotion along her neck. Icy cold on fiery hot skin made her squirm. Tantalizingly the lotion trailed down her spine, pooling in the small of her waist, before continuing lower over her buttocks.
He lowered himself to rest on her back, the breadth of his chest covering her shoulders. His arousal nestled in the lotion at the small of her back. Gray blew against her neck, breathed in her ear. "Vertebrae."
The slow glide of his body against hers worked the lotion into her skin. Silky warmth and Gray against her left Lori writhing beneath him.
"Gray," she moaned.
"Want me to stop?"
"No!"
"What do you want?"
"To finish this damn science lesson."
His laugh breezed over her sensitive neck just before he rolled away.
She flipped to her side and watched him tear open the packet and sheath himself. He flung aside the wrapper and turned back to her. His knuckles grazed across her cheek, before he gathered her to his chest. "I'm sorry, hon, so damned sorry I can't give you that baby you want."
"Shhh." Couldn't they return to another lesson in Gray's Anatomy? At least then she didn't have to think about the outside world. "Don't talk about it now."
His finger fell to her mouth, outlining the tender pad of her bottom lip. "I tried, though, with Magda. I tried to give you the child you always wanted." His lips teased over the top of her head. "And I was right. You're so beautiful with her. You should have a houseful of them."
He stared down at her with eyes full of regret, his words filtering into her muddled brain.
Magda.
He'd wanted her to have a child of her own to love, and in the only way he could, he'd given her one.
Tears burned hot behind her eyes. Heaven help her, she tumbled the rest of the way in love with the beautiful, earnest, gorgeously flawed man over her. Not a very far tumble, after all, since she'd been teetering on the edge of loving him ever since the day she'd seen him plucking shrapnel from his leg, maybe even before that. This final nudge, however, might as well have been miles wide. There was no turning back.
Lori looped her arms around his neck, her back arching into him. His forehead falling to hers, he stared in her eyes and thrust inside her. He filled her body as he had filled her heart. Totally. Fully.
She moved with him endlessly until her body throbbed, vibrated with release, and all the while she wondered if she could ever fill his life as completely.
Chapter 16
"When do you leave for Washington?" Lori snuggled against Gray's bare side and avoided looking into his eyes. Which scared her more? What she might see in his, or what he might find in hers?
He worked the twines of her braid free, one plait at a time. "I've delayed as long as I can. I have to report by Monday. Without fail."
She stifled the disappointment. For a crazy moment at the door, she hadn't been able to squelch a thought that he meant to stay. Of course, that wasn't possible. Not showing up for work could land him in jail for being AWOL.
Lori stroked her foot along his calf, both of them smooth and slicked from their body massage. Then her foot rasped over his healing shrapnel wounds.
Oh, God. How was she going to let him go?
Loving Gray was different this time, because she knew him better. How would she ever get over him? She'd barely survived last time.
Part of her wondered what would happen if she stuck it out, worked a little harder. Maybe she could endure past his hang-ups on family. After all, she'd studied about families dealing with post-traumatic stress syndrome.
Lori forced herself to stop. She wanted to be his wife, not his counselor.
She didn't regret stealing these last moments for herself, but she couldn't allow herself to weaken. She wanted a life with children and roots, a family who wasn't afraid to share their feelings and lavish love on one another.
Gray spread her hair like a blanket over her breasts. "Come with me to Washington."
He'd said it so offhandedly Lori thought she must have misheard. "What?"
He propped on one elbow, the lemon-yellow comforter pooling around his waist, and looked straight into her eyes this time. "Pack up. Move in with me in Washington."
Did this man live to confuse her? "Are you trying to send me running for the door like last time? Because if you don't want to have sex again, you can just say so. No need to go to such extremes to make me boot you out of my bed."
"No!" His arms locked around her as if she might run anyway. "I—" he swallowed heavily "—I want you to move in with me. I found this great house with a sunroom and a big yard. Lori, the past two weeks without you have been hell. It's time we both quit fighting it and give in."
Not exactly the most romantic declaration she'd ever heard, but he seemed to mean it. She considered it. How could she not? Then she looked deeper into his eyes.
He regarded her so warily, she couldn't tell which he feared more, her saying yes or no.
Why couldn't he have asked with his clothes on, damn him? She held strong all the same, and for good measure kept her eyes firmly planted on his face. "I have a job here. I'm building ties, putting down roots."
"Come anyway."
If he didn't understand she couldn't spend the rest of her life constantly on the move, he would never be able to give her what she needed. She wanted to build a stable home for herself, for her children, for the daughter she already had.