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He glanced down at her. Was she . . . was she asleep?
“Maeve?”
No answer.
“Baby, are you awake?”
Nothing except for a contented little snuffle.
Amusement filled him. What a predicament to be in. Stuck to the bed because his girl was using his dick like a pacifier.
Well, as long as she didn’t suddenly bite down, he guessed he could cope. Using his phone, he did some more shopping, texted Markovich to update him and tried to find what he could about Andy.
There had to be some way of finding out who this stalker was. Finally, she rolled away from him and he lay there for a bit longer, studying her.
His girl. His precious, beautiful girl.
He was never letting her go.
32
Ican’t breathe.
Why can’t I breathe?
Just take a breath!
“Maeve! Maeve, breathe!”
Jeez,bossy britches, don’t you think I’m trying?
Breathe, Maeve.
“Girl,you better fucking breathe right now,” a deep voice growled, the command clear.
Suddenly, her arms were free and she flung them out, hearing someone grunt in pain. But she managed to take a small breath, then another.
“That’s it, girl. Good. Another breath. Good girl. My good girl.”
The voice soothed her, despite its roughness. That voice meant safety. It meant honesty, loyalty, and protection.
She was tucked into a wide lap and warmth filled her. Opening her eyes, she stared into Gray’s worried gaze.
“Breathe. In. Hold. Out. That’s it . . . that’s my girl.”
His girl. She was his.
He was hers.
“Fuck, sorry, baby. I went to run you a bath and you stopped fucking breathing. I won’t let you go next time. Not for anything.”
She wasn’t going to argue with that. She stared up at him, frowning at the red patch on his cheek.
“What’s this?” She reached up to lightly pat his cheek.
“Got in the way of someone’s hand.”
Her eyes widened and she sat up, narrowly missing bumping into his chin. “What? Someone hit you? Where are they? I’m gonna get them.” She punched her fist into her palm.
