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Maybe even sooner after all that had transpired between them tonight.

So this didn’t mean anything—it couldn’t.

And so long as it didn’t mean anything, she was safe.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Grayson

The next morning, Grayson woke up with a weight on his chest.

He tucked Lucy’s hair behind her ear, taking in the sight of her sleeping face. The store was bright, filled with light. His heart expanded, warming. He hadn’t been this happy in … he couldn’t remember how long. Hadn’t been this satisfied in just as long, and the thought of what they had done the night before made him hard all over again.

“Lucy,” he whispered, touching her cheek. She slowly roused, blinking in confusion until she saw him. He braced for her to be cold and unfeeling, but instead, she smiled, and his heart soared.

“G’morning,” she mumbled, releasing a long breath.

“Good morning,” he said.

Their legs were tangled together, and she was half on his chest, about to fall back asleep again. He was wide awake, though, and needed to get her up to speed.

He shifted until they were side by side and ran his hand up her hip, slipping under the fabric of her sweater. She made a soft sound as he slowly moved his hand higher, up her heavenly soft skin, to the full shape of her breasts. Her breath hitched, and she arched her body up until his hand was full of her. Then, he pinched.

Her eyes flew open. She grabbed his face and kissed him. He smiled against her mouth, kissing her back, his pulse speeding. Her hand came around his neck, fingers twining in his chain.

She tugged, and the metal bit into his skin, a delicious pain. He gasped, holding her tighter against him, pressing into her. He kissed her harder, both of them losing themselves in the heady haze of desire.

Until the phone rang.

Grayson groaned. Lucy pulled away from his grasp, and he tried to reach for her, keep her there, but she slithered out of his arms. She went and answered the phone, leaving him throbbing for her.

It was Charles. He could hear Lucy speaking with him. She had a very particular tone of voice when she spoke with Charles; it was one of pure happiness.

“Yes, yes, we’re fine, we survived,” Lucy said, laughing. He stood up, coming to her side, slightly chilly in his boxers. “We’re just heading out.” They chatted for a few moments more before she finally hung up, and once her mouth was free, he grabbed her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. She laughed, pulling away.

“Get dressed,” she said, shoving his chest. “Before Charles starts to worry.”

He put on his glasses and went to find his clothes while Lucy used magic to get dressed. She had her coat on by the time he was putting his sweater on over his button-down.

As he put his shoes on, he saw a little piece of clothing discarded on the floor. His heart thudded in his chest. He picked it up, going over to Lucy.

“Good, you’re dressed,” she said. He held up her underwear, letting the thin wisp of fabric hang off one finger. Her eyes glinted.

“Don’t you need this?” he asked. She smiled that wicked little smile of hers.

“Keep it,” she said. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

Heat drummed through him as he realized. “So you’re not wearing any—”

She simply grinned, walking away from him.

He stuck her underwear in his pocket and chased after her. She yelped, but she wasn’t fast enough. He locked an arm around her torso and pulled her flush against him.

“Grayson.” She laughed, throwing her head back against his chest. His hands went under her coat and sweater to her hips, feeling for the lines of her underwear and finding none.

His blood heated. He groaned.

“Don’t do this to me,” he said, sliding one hand forward between her legs.