Our eyes meet, and I’m the one who can’t breathe. Everything seems to pause. There is only Gray, his gaze wide and clear, his cock lodged deep as though it’s found home.
My body tightens like a fist, my heart so tender it hurts. I feel him everywhere, draw in his scent and heat. But it’s that look, as though there will never, ever be anything more important to him than me, that does me in.
This time my orgasm is an almost painful roll of pleasure. Crushing my lips to his shoulder to keep quiet, I cling to him and let go. And he follows me, his mouth on my neck, his fingers digging into my thighs.
He comes with a quiet shudder that wracks his whole body. All the tension leaves him on a sigh.
We’re still for several breaths, then he pulls out and sets me on my feet before tucking himself back into his pants and doing them up. My skirt flutters down as I reach for him. I hold him close, stroke his hair, my face pressed into the warm hollow of his neck. He smells of sex and sweat and whiskey.
I can’t stop kissing his silky skin. “Thank you.”
Gray runs his hands down my back. “For what?”
“You gave me my fantasy.”
“Not a hardship, honey.” Slowly, he kisses his way up my neck, scattering fine shivers in his wake. “In fact, that now rates as one of my top fantasies too.”
I tilt my head to the side to give him better access. “You were good. Maybe you should consider acting.”
His laugh is a snort against my neck. “It wasn’t an act. I meant every word I said.”
I hadn’t meant a single one of my protests. But my body’s response had been real and so intense, I still feel pleasurable little aftershocks. I adore Gray for that, for making me feel safe to play. For wanting to do that with me in the first place.
“I haven’t forgotten about yours, you know,” I say against his temple.
Gray lifts his head. “My fantasy?” He looks blank, but he doesn’t fool me.
“I know what it is.”
“Oh, you do?” Gray smiles yet his tone holds a note of caution, as if he doesn’t want to believe me.
“Yeah, Cupcake, I do.” I kiss the tip of his nose. “You take care of everybody. But who takes care of you? That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be cared for.” My palm smooths down his cheek as he stares at me with wide eyes. “That’s my job now, Gray. I’m always going to be the one there for you.”
His throat works on a swallow, and when he speaks, his voice is husky. “How did you know?”
I rub my cheek against his, drawing in his familiar scent. “Because I know you.”
Gray is very still for a breath. Then he eases back. His hands settle on either side of my neck, his fingers so long they bracket my jaw. Gently, as though I’m suddenly breakable, he presses a kiss to my forehead, my cheeks, my closed eyes, the tip of my nose, and finally my lips.
“Every inch, Ivy,” he whispers against them.
I open my eyes and smile. My arms wind around his neck, holding him close. “You said that once, before your last game. But you never really told me what it means.”
Gray’s hands move to my waist. “Before you, it meant I’ll fight for every inch of yardage, never give up until I’m in the end zone. But now?” His blue eyes meet mine. “It means I’ll fight for every inch of you. That I love every inch of you.”
For a second, the air between us goes heavy and still. His words settle on me like a warm blanket. It sinks beneath my skin when he slowly smiles, as if he’s realized what he’s said and likes it.
“I love you, Ivy Mac.” His smile grows and he cups my cheek. “I really do. So much.” A husky laugh leaves him. “It feels good saying that.”
He loves me. No man has ever said those words to me. I’ve never wanted to hear them from anyone else but Gray.
I draw in a tremulous breath, my heart swelling within my chest. “I love you too.”
The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Yeah?”
Standing on my toes, I softly kiss his forehead, his cheeks, eyes, his smiling mouth. “Every inch, Cupcake.”