49. IVY
49
IVY
I scanned the pharmacy shelves, my heart racing as I searched for the items needed to treat Grayson’s gunshot wound. The scent of antiseptic and the fluorescent lights only heightened my anxiety.
I swear, if he bleeds out on me, I’m going to stab myself to death with a pair of dull tweezers.
Meanwhile, my bleeding bodyguard walked around like a pit bull wearing a baseball cap, his focus darting between the security cameras and any patron that looked like they might even remotely try to hurt us. Even wounded, he radiated an aura of danger and protection.
First things first. Got to stop the bleeding. Gauze—lots and lots of gauze.
I tossed sterile gauze into my basket, with enough left over to change the dressings frequently.
He’d better not stop me from changing the dressing later, by the way.
Okay, next…antiseptic.
I pursed my lips; they only had the stinging kind, but maybe if he’d let me stop sooner, at a pharmacy closer to the shoot-out, they’d have had one that wouldn’t make his skin burn.
Tweezers went in the basket next. Might have to dig around and pull out any bullet fragments like a real-life version of the game Operation. Which brought me to my next item—painkillers.
I wish I had access to injectable numbing agents, but unfortunately for Grayson, all they had were topical creams and Advil. This was about to hurt something fierce. I shook my head and threw them in the basket.
When I finished getting all the supplies, we checked out and drove down the road to the closest motel, renting a room with the sole purpose of treating his wound.
Did he try to put up a fight again? Yep, but any threat of leaving me alone did the trick.
After scrubbing the bathroom counter with antibiotic soap, I laid down all the medical supplies.
“You got shot, trying to protect me,” I said. Half of me felt a wave of affection, the other half angry. If anyone should have a bullet, it should be me—the person who had the target on her back.
“Occupational hazard.”
I helped Grayson out of his jacket, noting the grimaces on his face anytime he had to move his arm. It was the same grimace he’d had when I’d hugged him in the forest, and I chided myself for not pushing him more on it back then.
“You should take your belt off,” I said.
“Why?” His eyebrow arched, a hint of amusement in his eyes despite the pain.
“To bite down on. I don’t have painkillers, and this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”
His jaw tensed. I could see he was immediately regretting this decision to let me attend to his wound.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s take your shirt off so I can see what I’m dealing with.”
I slipped his shirt off, careful not to aggravate his injury, and as the wet fabric peeled away, revealing his muscular chest and bleeding arm, I inhaled sharply. This wouldn’t be pretty, but I’d do whatever it took to keep him safe, just as he’d always done for me.
Like I did with my patients in the ER, I kept my face neutral to hide the concern of seeing his injury for the first time. His entire left arm was covered in blood in various amounts, but from what I could tell, most of it was smeared, saturated from his wet clothes.
With a washcloth and antibacterial soap, I got to work, cleansing his entire arm until, finally, the bullet wound was all that was left. The entrance and exit wounds appeared to have cut through his muscle and skin, but the trajectory didn’t appear to line up with the bone. At least that was something.
As I stood here, tending to Grayson’s wound, his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of my own breaths, the heat coming off his body becoming harder to ignore as he stared down at me.
“You should shower,” I decided. “You ran through a muddy forest, so we should get your body clean before we wrap the wound.”
How he could look at me like this right now, like we were alone in a candlelit room, was beyond me. But somehow, he activated every single butterfly in my stomach when he stepped back, removed two guns from his waistband, set them on the counter with a clunk, slowly unzipped his pants, and peeled out of his remaining clothes.
My stupid mouth went slack at the sight.
His magnificent body never ceased to captivate me, an exquisite landscape of strength and power. Almost unconsciously, I reached out and placed my hands on his sculpted chest. Feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing, the heat of his skin beneath my palms, I lost myself in the depths of his hypnotizing eyes while memories of his lips buried between my legs sent a blaze of heat crawling down my spine.
“You’re taking a shower with me,” he announced.
“I’m—”
“Covered in mud and risking hypothermia,” he cut me off, placing his hands on my shoulders.
I didn’t want to deal with my own needs. Yes, I was freezing. My wet clothes were sticking to me like frozen Saran Wrap, but I wasn’t the one in danger here. He was.
“You’ve been shivering ever since we left the forest,” he added, making it clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I had?
Swallowing, I surrendered to his magnetic stare and stepped back, peeling each layer of my clothing off, one at a time. Hunger flashed across Grayson’s face as he drank in every square inch of my body.
“We need to hurry,” I reminded myself more than him as I started the shower and stepped into the hot water.
“We will, but it’s a long drive, and your teeth are loud when they chatter. I might run us off the road, worrying about you.”
My cheeks heated. Would he ever stop worrying about me? Because a girl could get used to it.
“I meant because of your wound and Daniel,” I clarified. That, and needing to tame the dirty thoughts racing through my head. Time and place, Ivy.
My thighs pulsed with need, making it difficult to shake the thought that we were both alone. Naked.
“I want to get the wounds packed with gauze as quickly as possible,” I managed.
With a smirk that bordered on a challenge, Grayson stepped into the water with me, the hot water a blissful shock against our chilled skin. Grayson lathered up a washcloth and began tenderly grazing it over my body, the gentle intimacy a stark contrast to our frantic race in the woods. Here, the world narrowed to just the two of us, the water, the steam, and a love so powerful that it made me ache.
Every moment with Grayson felt like living in a panoramic view of the ocean, the world alive with color and beauty all around me. How was it possible for one person to have this big of an effect on my soul?
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he murmured.
Grayson moved the soapy washcloth down my breasts, studying my nipples as they peaked—his body reacting, pressing against my thigh.
He smirked, a dangerously mischievous look in his eyes.
“No,” I said.
“Ten minutes.” He arched a brow, working the washcloth over the rest of my body and having me spin around so he could clean my back.
“No,” I said, my voice almost inaudible over the water. “You’re hurt.”
“Feeling no pain at the moment.” He drew the washcloth down my spine.
“Liar.”
The suds gently caressed my ass in slow, circular motions, and when his fingers traced the curve of my spine, my lower stomach heated.
“You said we had to hurry,” I reminded him. But my voice, it betrayed my crumbling resolve.
“Seven minutes,” he countered, trailing his finger along my skin.
In one last—albeit pathetic—effort to be sensible, I turned around and yanked the washcloth out of his hand. Glaring at him, I began washing his chest.
“Your wound needs to?—”
“Five,” he growled, cupping my breast.
I gasped, having to refocus my mind on finishing cleaning his front. I drew the washcloth lower, purposefully gliding it over his shaft, enthralled by the darkening of his features.
We were both being irresponsible. Maybe that was the bigger danger to our relationship. Maybe it wasn’t the outside forces, but rather, when we got together, all caution threatened to break.
And yet…the space between my thighs ached for him.
I washed his entire chest again, mesmerized by the sculpted landscape of his physique. Each contour beckoned me to explore, to etch its form into my memory.
Could he read the thoughts dancing through my head? Because the way he was staring at me, drawing his hand up to cup my cheek as his gaze drifted to my lips, was more intense than before. So intense, in fact, that the noise of the water seemed to vanish, leaving only the thudding of my beating heart as he drew his fingertips to my chin and tilted it up.
Pressing his lips to mine.
With hot water cascading down my nude body, I realized in that moment that I wanted every one of his kisses to belong to me. I always had. I was only fooling myself to think I could ever walk away from him.
“I love you.” I breathed the tender words in whispers over his mouth.
He pulled his face away from mine, searching my eyes, as if trying to confirm he’d heard me right. At first, his lips curled slightly, but then his face fell, and he shook his head like I’d just confessed a sin.
“Don’t,” he said in a low, steady voice, drawing his knuckles along my jaw.
“I do,” I repeated with more conviction this time. “I love you, and I’m done fighting it.”
Grayson’s hand cupped my cheek, his touch searing my skin with a tenderness that made my heart sing as he studied me, as if trying to comprehend how he could be this lucky.
The shower water seemed to slow, the warmth replaced by the heat from our bodies as Grayson drew his mouth closer, my pulse quickening with the need to feel his kiss.
“I love you, too, Ivy,” he whispered with the brush of his lips against mine.
In that moment, I knew that I had found my home, my haven, in the arms of the man who had captured my heart so completely. The problems around us burned to ashes, and all that remained was the love we shared, the unbreakable bond that had been forged through the fires of our past and the hope of our future together.
I didn’t know what would happen with Daniel or the CIA, but that was the beauty of love. So long as I had Grayson, everything else faded into the background noise of my life.
He kissed me with an intensity that sang to my heart, my soul erupting into cheers. This was what dreams were made of. Everything we had been through had been worth it, so long as it led us to this moment and this decision to be united in our future together.
My beautiful assassin.
A couple of feet away, two guns sat on the bathroom counter—deadly weapons that sat as a silent reminder of his dangerous skills—while his arm bled, a symbol that he’d literally walk in front of a bullet to protect me.
He slid his hand down my throat, feeling my pulse for a moment before reaching down and cupping my breast. Hard.
I gasped; his squeeze was a delicious balance of pleasure and pain, and an ache grew bigger in my lower stomach as his fingers inched downward in a torturous descent. I moaned against his lips, my fingers tangling in his wet hair as the anticipation built between us.
Water dripped down our cheeks as Grayson’s hand teased me, coming so close to where I needed it that I arched my hips, desperate to meet its touch.
And then, finally, he slipped his finger between my folds.
My head rocked back, water spraying my face as Grayson’s mouth trailed angry kisses down my jaw, down my throat, while he wiggled his finger over the sensitive bud.
I needed him inside of me, his hips pressing against my inner thighs, his body on top of mine, but for now, his fingers circled me, making the ache in my belly climb even higher.
Grayson trailed his mouth up my throat, my jaw, and waited until I opened my eyes—drops of water collecting on my eyelashes—as he plunged two fingers inside of me.
When my jaw dropped open, his lips curled to one side in satisfaction. Right now, he had complete control over me, and he knew it. He could bring me to the brink, or make me beg, or leave me unsatisfied if he wanted to punish me. Instead, he pulled his fingers out slowly to the knuckles, then pushed them hard and punishingly deeper into my body.
I clutched his shoulders for dear life as he watched my face, pulling his hand out slightly, then back in, curving his fingers this time to hit that internal bundle of nerves.
“You like that, Kitten?” He brushed his lips over mine.
“Don’t stop,” I whimpered. “I’m getting so close.”
A rumble of his growl vibrated against my mouth as he pumped harder and faster, and then he added his thumb to the sensitive bud between my legs, swirling it with perfection. My thighs began to tremble around him, my hips rocking against his hand.
“I’m so close,” I moaned.
But suddenly, he withdrew his fingers.
My eyes shot open, angry and desperate. For a second, I was scared he’d stopped, but he gripped my waist.
“Put your hands on the wall,” Grayson demanded, spinning me around and pulling my hips out.
As I spread my legs wide, my ass got pelted with hot water while Grayson slid two fingers back inside of me.
I groaned.
Holding my hip with his left hand, he pumped his fingers harder into me. I pressed my forehead against the cold porcelain of the shower, but all I could focus on was the heat between my legs as Grayson worked me from behind. He groaned through the motions of his hand, and when I looked back over my shoulder, I noted the raw desire on his face.
He watched his fingers slip inside of me, my body taking every inch he gave, and when my moans grew more intense, Grayson growled, locked eyes with me, and shoved his fingers harder into my body.
My mouth fell open.
“You like that, don’t you?” he accused smugly.
He watched my face as my orgasm climbed higher and higher.
“Don’t stop,” I whimpered.
“You close for me, Kitten?”
“So close.”
Grayson suddenly spun me, dropped to his knees, and lifted my foot onto the edge of the tub. Before spearing me with his tongue.
“Ohhh…” My eyes rolled in the back of my head while he licked that sensitive bud, swirling his tongue over it.
Slipping his two fingers inside of me once more.
What a view I had right now. With me, my sex open for him, Grayson’s head between my legs, pumping his fingers in and out of me while he swirled his tongue along the apex of my sex. Above us, the shower water beat down on us mercilessly, steam swirling between our bodies that glistened with fallen droplets.
He moved his mouth from side to side, groaning so his voice vibrated against my sensitive flesh.
I reached down and clutched his wet hair, watching as he swirled his tongue over my sensitive nub and sucked, pumping and working his fingers to the tune of my body until I could feel the orgasm climbing higher and higher.
Trembling slightly, I held the back of his head as I moved my hips, and then I felt a surge of overwhelming affection wash over me. In this moment, I realized that I couldn’t imagine my life without him. The intensity of my emotions blurred my vision as I teetered on the edge of ecstasy.
“Grayson!” I shattered around his mouth, clenching so hard that I almost dislodged his fingers.
Grayson groaned as he watched the pleasure on my face, working every last ripple with his expert tongue.
I thought that would be the end of it, but instead, he kept his eyes locked on mine as he pulled his fingers out and hooked my left thigh over his shoulder. Before plunging his tongue inside of me.
I sucked in a ragged breath, clutching the wall as the cascade of water assaulted our bodies, and Grayson worked my sex—this time with his tongue alone, running it down my folds and back up, watching my reactions as he swirled to the heartbeat of my pleasure.
“You like that, Kitten?”
“Mmmmm…” I nodded.
He rewarded me by circling his tongue along the top of my sex, a fresh ache heating in my lower stomach.
“You taste so good.”
My mouth dropped open at his words and his sinfully low voice as he flattened his tongue and rolled it over my sensitive bud.
“Tell me what you need, Kitten.”
“You,” I swallowed. “I need y?—”
He plunged his fingers back inside of me, cutting off my air. Watching me respond to the squirms of my hips against his mouth, he rolled his tongue and sucked on the sensitive bud, nipping at it slightly.
“Please,” I whimpered again.
With my wave almost at the top, Grayson pulled away, spun me back around, pressed his hand between my shoulders until I bent over, and placed my hands on the wall.
I could imagine how I looked right now—legs spread, bent over like an offering. I dared a glance over my shoulder, locking eyes with him as he lined himself up at my entrance, and…
Plunged inside of me in one angry thrust.
“Ohhhh…” I moaned.
He pulled out slightly and slammed back inside so hard, a bit of pain mixed with the pleasure. And when he moved his hips, he wasn’t gentle, the sound of our bodies angrily colliding and battling with the water, the scent of sex heightened in the steam.
My body stretched around him, taking all of him, and with each thrust, he hit that inner bundle of nerves. He found his rhythm, grabbing my hips so hard that I might have bruises tomorrow.
Glorious bruises that could take me back to this moment, with Grayson channeling his anger and frustration into passion, transforming it into something raw and beautiful.
As our bodies moved together as one, I was overwhelmed by a profound sense of love and gratitude. We were alive, having narrowly escaped the clutches of death, and this connection between us transcended mere physical pleasure or the release of pent-up emotions; with each thrust, each touch, our bond grew stronger, undeniable in its intensity.
“Grayson…” I held on, anchoring myself to this moment, to him.
“Not yet,” he commanded.
I whimpered. I wasn’t sure if I could hold on anymore…
“Grayson.”
“You will not come until I tell you to,” he ordered.
I clenched around him, trying to hold it back, but it was…I couldn’t…
“Now, Kitten.”
I let go, experiencing the most intense orgasm I’d ever had. My body trembled and shuddered so hard, I nearly lost my balance—Grayson’s arm shooting around my breasts to keep me upright as he groaned.
And just when my climax finally worked through its last ripple, my air returning to my lungs after holding that eternal gasp, Grayson roared with his own release. Stilling behind me, both of us breathless and spent.