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He curls his fingers into my pants and yanks, tearing them out of my hands.

I stare at him with wide eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I asked you to leave because I don’t have any condoms in the bathroom and I was dangerously close to pinning you against the shower wall.”

Well, that’s direct.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Grinder

Serena’s pretty blue eyes blink rapidly at my explanation. It’s weak but true.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” She tiptoes closer.

I cup the back of her head and drag her against me. “I don’t like feeling out of control.”

“I make you feel that way?”

“Yes,” I whisper against her lips.

Her sneaky little fingers slip under my towel, tugging it away. “You can always tell me anything, Gray.” She climbs into the middle of the bed and sits back on her heels. “I’d rather know, than think I did something wrong.”

My gaze slides over her clean, glowing skin. Her damp hair clings to her shoulders and chest. Hard nipples play peek-a-boo through the wet strands.

What the fuck is this goddess of a woman doing with me?

I stretch out next to her, my not-quite-dry-yet skin sticking to the comforter. “Come closer.”

She snuggles along my side and I curl my arm around her. Feels so good having all her soft warm skin sliding against mine.

I stare up at the ceiling. Maybe I’ll get an answer to the questions I’m about to ask if I’m not looking right at her. “Why are you always worried about doing something wrong? Or making me mad? I’m a cranky old fuck. Ain’t got nothing to do with you.”

She’s quiet but with her face pressed against my chest, I feel her jaw working like she’s trying to form an answer.

“My life’s been dark, I guess,” she finally whispers.

Figured that was the case.

I turn my head and stare at this beautiful woman who brightens up my world whenever she’s near. Being with her makes me happier than I thought possible. The desire to murder and maim anyone who’s been cruel to her beats against my chest.

“Mine ain’t exactly been sunshine and rainbows, sweetheart. I just spent fifteen years in prison.”

She winces and I regret my harsh tone. As much as I hate using it with her, I don’t know any other way. She deserves someone gentle and kind. Things I’ve never been and can probably never be. But for her I want to try. “You’re my light, Serena. The first brightness in my life in a long damn time.”

“I don’t know if I can be that, Grayson. For anyone.”

“Then we’ll be each other’s light.” I reach over and rub my thumb over her cheek.

“You are,” she whispers. “You mean…you mean a lot to me, Grayson.”

“Good. You mean a lot to me too.” The world. Another feeling burns hot in my chest, but I push it aside for now. “If I seem grumpy or mad about something, it’s not you, Serena. I’m frustrated. With myself. With the world. With everything. But never with you.”

“It seemed like you were avoiding me all week.” She hesitates and slides her tongue over her lips. “I thought you might be trying to brush me off.”

“No. Fuck no.” I cup her cheek and tilt her head to stare in her eyes.

Should I tell her what happened? It’s clear she thinks she did something wrong and that’s why I kept my distance. I used to always think it was better to leave women out of club business.

A wry smile twists my mouth. Technically, this was prison business, not club-related. Does that make it better or worse to share with her?

Keeping secrets from Rose never did me any favors. Serena’s a much different woman. Made of tougher stuff. But we’re so fucking new together. I hate to keep reminding her of my past and all the things I want to forget.

Serena

“Serena,” he rasps. “I’d never brush you off. In fact, you’re going to have a hard time getting rid of me.”

“I don’t want to get rid of you.”

“Good.”

He stares at me for so long my heart thuds. What’s going on in his head?

“I can’t…give you everything I want right now.”

Fear stabs into my stomach. I reach for the blanket to cover myself. If he’s about to break up with me, he’s not going to do it while enjoying the sight of my tits.

He frowns. “Are you cold?”

“No. Finish what you were about to say.”

He works his jaw. “I hate that all I have to offer you is this tiny apartment. I can’t take you away for the weekend because I have to be here in case parole shows up.” His voice takes on a bitter edge. “I’m a grown man with a curfew, for fuck’s sake.”

Each admission frees one of the scared butterflies fluttering in my chest.

“I’m falling for you and I can’t even do it right.”

Falling for me?

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