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“I didn’t mean it like that.”

She kisses my shoulder and neck. “I like touching you, Grayson. I don’t think you’re weak and I’m not trying to treat you like a patient.”

Well, God damn if she doesn’t have me figured out better than I do.

Her fingers skate over a horizontal line above my right hip, another along my side. “What happened here?” she whispers as she traces one of my larger scars.

“Establishing the pecking order on the inside is a ruthless business.”

She gasps. “I thought it was from an accident or surgery or something.”

I glance over my shoulder. “Yeah, another inmate tried to surgically remove my spine with a shiv he fashioned out of a ballpoint pen.” I touch or point to different battle scars. “Razor, knife, pointy end of a broomstick—that one hurt like a bitch.”

“Gray,” she whispers, hugging me again.

“Don’t ever plan on going back, buttercup.”

“Good.” She squeezes more oil into her hands and continues rubbing my back in silence. My body vibrates as if I can feel the waves of affection she infuses into every touch.

Her movements stop.

She sniffs. “Shit!” The mattress wobbles as she leaps off the bed, reaching for the pants I’d yanked out of her hands earlier. “The potatoes. I never set a timer.”

Potatoes. All I’m thinking about is the sweet jiggle of her breasts as she tries to hop into her pants and yank them up her legs.

“If you run, it’ll just make me want to chase you,” I warn.

“Oh, really?” She draws out the word to a teasing pitch. “That might be fun.” She gives up on the pants, tossing them at my face and sprinting for the door.

Naked.

And I’m on the hunt.

Too bad for her, the apartment’s small. I catch her with my arm around her waist as she’s about to pass the couch. Our bodies collide with a thump and slip.

I spin her to face the couch and bend her over the back of it until her toes barely graze the floor. She grunts and tries to wriggle away.

I slide my hand into her hair, grab a fistful and tug. Her body goes still. My other hand grips her hip, holding her tight.

She arches her back and presses her ass into my thighs.

Bending over her body, I kiss her shoulder and lightly bite her neck. “You like being hunted down, huh?” I whisper against her ear, giving her hair another gentle tug.

“By you,” she whispers.

I take that as a yes. “Watching you run flips my need-to-chase switch. Sorry if you thought your old man wouldn’t be able to get it up again so soon.” I slide my erection against the seam of her ass to prove my point.

She groans and squirms some more.

“Every time I think about how good it feels sliding into your hot cunt with nothing between us, this is what’s going to happen.”

“Oh God.” Her entire body shudders under me. “Yes. Please.”

Love how eager she is. I wedge my thigh between her legs. “Open up. Gonna fuck you hard and fast now.”

It’s an unfair request since I have her pinned under me but she wiggles and tips her ass up until I get the right angle and slide right in. “Buttercup,” I groan. “You’re still so slick from before. Still got my cum running down your thighs.”

She lets out a desperate little groan.

“Am I hurting you?” I ease my grip on her hair.

“No,” she pants. “Say that again.”

“What? That I like you all wet and messy for me?”

“Mmhmm. Fuck me harder.”

Fuck. I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to laugh or come. She’s searing hot against me and crazy about all the filthy stuff I whisper in her ear. Feels so fucking good bare inside her. “Brace yourself.”

She pushes her hands against the couch cushions. “That’s good right there. Gray, please.”

“I got you. Don’t worry, buttercup.” I slam into her and a scream tears out of her throat. I grip her hair again, tugging her head back, and slide my other hand between her legs, running two fingers along her clit.

Her body trembles. I pound into her, one long savage stroke after another. A relentless pace. We’re both beyond words. Just a lot of animalistic grunting and screaming that the whole building can probably hear.

Let ’em listen.

I grit my teeth and barely hang on as she tightens around me. Her arms give out. She folds like a rag doll against the cushions. I grab her hips and drive into her again and again. My release hits fast—a blinding rush of pleasure.

My hands shoot out, bracing myself against the couch frame so I don’t crush her body. She slides her hand over mine, joining our fingers together. I kiss her shoulder. “You okay?”

She rubs her thighs together. “I need another shower.”

Laughing, I push myself upright. She turns and faces me, standing on wobbly legs.

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