Chapter 41
GRAYSON
My baby looks stunned.
Jealousy looks so fucking good on her. I didn’t know she was the jealous type. Now that I do, I want to feed it. I licked my lips, watching her get lost staring out the window, eyes wide, soft lips parted like she forgot how to breathe. This woman. She’s not watching the trees. She’s watching me. The way my hands grip the wheel, the way my jaw flexes when I don’t smile back.
Who’s whoreshipping who?
I choke down a grin, let my knuckles flex hard on the wheel like I’m not picturing her crawling into my lap just to cry through it. Baby, just say the word, and I’ll pull over, lay you across this road, and fuck the fight right out of you with your legs shaking against the dash.
“It’s almost midnight. Where are you taking me?”
I scoff, low and dangerous. ‘What? Suddenly worried about curfews, baby?“” I don’t give a shit about time. I’ve got you. That’s all that matters.
Jessica stares at me like she doesn’t know what she does to me. My cock twitches. I almost laugh–because I’m already fucking hard, throbbing with every bratty look she throws my way tonight.
I kill the engine.
“Get out,” I say.
“No.”
I lean in then grab her ankle, yank her down flat across the seat, climb over her, cage her in with my arms, my thighs, my weight, my heat. “You want to be a brat?” I growl, nose dragging across her cheek, my breath hot and dangerous against her skin. “You think you can test me tonight, Jess? Keep it up.” Her breath hitches, just like I know it will. I lean in, my lips grazing her jaw. ‘Keep going,’ I whisper, low and deadly. ‘And I swear, Jess, I’ll make you come so hard in this car you’ll forget your own fucking name.‘
Her eyes go glassy, and I know I’ve got her. I smirk, unlocking the door before stepping out. Sometimes, I want to break her. But tonight? I’m holding back. Just a little. I still want to make her go full insane for me.
I slam the door behind me. It’s fucking cold. I count to three and when she didn’t come out, I yank the door open again, reach in, and grab her by the wrist.
“No–Grayson, seriously-”
“Shut up.”
She stumbles out, tripping into my chest. I catch her. Hold her there. Just for a beat. Her breath’s shaky. Hands pressed against my chest like she wants to push, but doesn’t. Her eyes search mine, mouth parted–still pissed, still proud, still trying not to care.
I don’t let her go.
Instead, I hook a hand behind her neck, press my lips to her temple. “Come with me.”
She stiffens. “Where?”
“You’ll see.”
I take her hand and start walking.
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Chapter 41
We’re surrounded by trees now, tall and quiet, shadows spilling like ink across the dirt path. She tries to tug away once–twice–but I just squeeze her fingers tighter, thumb brushing her knuckles.
“Grayson…”
“Trust me.”
She falls silent.
The moon’s out–full and round, hanging low over the treetops. The night’s cold but not harsh. It smells like damp leaves, pine, and something faintly floral.
She notices it too. Her nose wrinkles. “What’s that?”
I smirk. “Keep walking.”
She follows.
And then we’re there.
The trees part into a small clearing, and everything changes.
Fairy lights dangle from the branches, tangled in ivy and twining vines. Candles flicker along the stone path, warm and golden. In the middle: a heavy wooden beam suspended between two thick oaks–rope–tied on both sides–and from it, a wide hammock, low to the ground, draped in white cloth and thick blankets.
I feel her breath catch.
“You did this?”
I glance at her. “Yeah.”
She doesn’t look at me. Her eyes are wide, reflecting the lights. Her fingers are slack in mine now, barely holding on.
“This is…romantic.”
I shrug. I built it for her. Bled on the rope. Cursed the trees. She better fucking like it. “I just thought… you’d like the moon and the quietness. And something that wasn’t fucking Aria and that fake–ass garden dinner.”
She turns to look at me.
“I built that thing today,” I mutter, nodding to the hammock. “Took me two hours. Got rope burns all over my hands. Nearly punched a tree.”
A small laugh slips out of her.
And it fucking guts me.
I can hate her. Fuck, sometimes I do.
When she rolls her eyes. When she lies straight to my face. When she pretends I don’t wreck her the same way she ruins me. But I love her for one reason–Because my heart goes feral every time I see her.
Even when she’s pissed. Especially when she’s pissed. When she crosses her arms, mouth sharp, muttering “You’re so fucking stupid,” under her breath like I can’t hear her. I should hate her. I try. Goddess, I fucking try. But one goddamn breath from her and I’m crawling back on my
knees like a dog with her name carved into my ribs.
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Chapter 41
So, I don’t say anything. I just watch her walk ahead, toward the hammock. She runs her fingers across the blankets, the pillows. The candles. Then looks up.
“I didn’t know you could do something like this.”
1 step in behind her. Wrap an arm around her waist. My chin rests on her shoulder.
“I can do anything for you.” She breathes in and I keep going as I let my lips brush the shell of her ear. “You think all I’m good for is fucking you senseless in my car?”
That made her laugh.
“You think I don’t want more than that?” Jessica doesn’t move. But her body leans–just slightly–into mine. I press a kiss to her jaw. “I don’t care where we fight,” I whisper. “I just want to end the night with you like this.”
She turns slowly. Our faces are close. So close I could bite her. So close I want to shove her back into the blankets and fuck her so deep the moonlight forgets her name.
Jessica tilts her chin, lashes low. “What if I still want to fight?”
I grin. “Then I’ll pin you to that hammock and make you beg for peace.”
The truth is, there are a thousand words that try to define love. But none of them ever came close to what I felt watching her. It’s been her. Only her. Always her.
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