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A part of me wants to bolt, but the other demands we stand our ground and don’t give as much as an inch to whoever was stupid enough to come here.
When Gray stands, I reach for him, but faster than I can make contact, he switches on the light. The bedroom is now cast in a bright light, revealing… nothing out of the ordinary.
I remain on the floor next to the bed while he systematically goes through our home, checking every nook and cranny.As he’s done every night since the call from Gunner two days ago, he returns with his arms outstretched.
“There’s no one here, Princess. It was just a dream.”
I vehemently shake my head. “No. I felt the touch, Gray. He… he ran his finger down my neck and across my shoulder.” I shudder at the memory.
Rather than joining me on the floor, Gray pulls me back in bed. This time he isn’t keeping his distance. He lies down on his side, propping his head up with his hand while reaching for my tightly braided hair.
“Is this what you felt?” he asks as a tickling sensation runs down my neck and continues to my shoulder.
Suppressing a shudder, I nod.
“A tendril has come loose,” he says, calmly. “It was just your hair, Zo.”
Squeezing my eyes closed I try to hide from the mortification. Every night I braid my hair as tight as possible and gather it on top of my head so I don’t have to feel it down my back. The suggestion came from Rose who apparently sleeps like that because she’s scared of spiders, and the long hair brushing her back while sleeping often sends her into a panic attack.
“Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll get us some breakfast?” Gray suggests after checking the time on his phone. “Cara will be here in just a few hours, and you just know she’s going to work you hard.”
After Tido left the other day, I basically blew up Cara’s phone until she agreed to train with me daily. I know it’s selfish and that Rocco needs her, but I can’t ever be a victim again. And apart from her, I don’t know who can help me.
Gray’s more than capable of it, sure. But he’d take it too easy on me. He proved that much when he was against Cara showing me torture techniques. No, what I need is someone who won’t shy away from bruising me, or hold me in ways that makes my heart plummet to my stomach.
“Okay,” I agree. “I’m sorry for waking you again.”
Before I can get off the bed, Gray takes my wrist and pulls my hand to his lips. He gently presses a kiss to my pinky. “Don’t ever let me fucking hear you apologize for that again.”
“Or what?” I challenge with a raised eyebrow.
“Or I’ll take you over my knee and spank that fine ass of yours red,” he growls, not even bothering to hide how much he likes that idea.
Arousal hits me out of nowhere, and I gasp.
“But that wouldn’t be punishment for my princess, wouldn’t it?” he asks with a knowing smirk. “Neither would burying my head between your legs to lick your pretty pussy.”
“I… I…” Fuck, I can’t think straight when he talks like that.
He’s making me wet and wanton for his touch with words alone, and it’s anything but fair. I’m desperate for his touch, yet I’m still fearful of it. Fuck, I haven’t even allowed him to kiss me yet.
“Get out of here before either of us does something stupid.” Though he’s smiling, his tone is serious, and I know he’s right.
I’m not ready.
Each minute around Gray makes it easier to breathe, to exist. And when I’m in his presence, I find that I don’t spend time panicking, wondering who I am now. Because it doesn’t matter. When we’re together, we’re Zoe and Gray. Zray or Groe.
I giggle to myself as I step under the warm sprays of the shower and quickly lather my body in soap. This time I don’t avoid all my scars like the plague. I gently trail my fingers across the cut he made on my stomach.
It runs through one of Gunner’s many bite marks, which makes it look like it’s been crossed out. It’s by no means gone, but I can still bask in the symbolism of Gray canceling the mark from his former club brother.
Taking a shuddering breath, I tilt my head forward and let the water cascade down my back. When I stand like this, I try to imagine the water is Gray caressing my skin. Thethought of asking him to do it is growing more and more in my mind.
Maybe it’s my overthinking that’s ruining it. When he kissed me I felt not just something, it felt good—but in a scary way, hence the knee to the nuts reaction. But maybe I can endure more now.
Switching off the water I reach for the towel, and while I dry myself I try to muster up the courage to just run out there and throw myself at him. Or call him in here, and… yeah, no. That’s not happening. The mere thought is equal parts arousing and terrifying.
I’m not completely sure what it is I’m scared of. I know he won’t hurt me, just like I know he can make me feel so good I see stars. As I get dressed, I wonder again if it’s only the unknown, and if so, how I can convince myself that Idoknow.
