Crossfire (Cross Duet #1)

48. IVY

48

IVY

Okay, that was it. My morals officially needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. They had been dying a slow death, wading into the water of not being repulsed by a hit man, but after hearing Grayson’s explanation? They did a full-on cannonball into finding him admirable.

Which was certifiable. You cannot justify murder. No matter what.

And, sure, I guess it wasn’t murder. That wasn’t a fair term. Assassination. Government-sanctioned assassinations, to be exact, and many men and women ended lives of enemies in wars. I didn’t see them as monsters, but rather heroes, so why was I being this hard on Grayson?

See? There I go, chest deep in the water.

But then you add to that the reason he wanted to kill bad guys? Kaboom. My heart became a runaway horse, and I needed to rein it in.

I could not have these feelings for Grayson. I was a nurse, dedicating my life to saving people, while he dedicated his life to ending them.

I mean, my God, I wonder how many people he had killed?

I wonder how many people he’s saved because of it , a counter-voice wondered.

Ugh!

No. I would not allow these thoughts to take control . He kills people for a living.

He’s probably saved more lives with one mission than you ever will in a lifetime.

Goddammit.

These flutters had started the first time I met Grayson, and even though I’d tried to stop them, they defied me, continuing even after he tried to kill me. It was like these flutters saw his decision to stop my murder mid-attack as romantic. Please.

And then they apparently viewed a hit man giving a woman advice on how to not be killed as also romantic.

Come to think of it, these flutters were what was certifiably insane. I needed to stop them.

Cut to me running out of the cabin into the woods because if I had any hope of reclaiming my thoughts and my morals, I needed distance between me and Grayson. Every moment I was in his presence, smelling his intoxicating scent, captivated by his forest-green gaze, I was inebriated by him.

“Ivy.” Grayson’s voice trailed behind me as small twigs snapped beneath my feet.

Which were freezing, by the way. I should have grabbed a pair of shoes; the socks offered very little protection in the autumn cold.

“I need some space, Grayson.”

“Ivy…”

I didn’t turn around. Instead, I focused on the multicolor leaves cascading among the trees in shades of orange, yellow, and red.

“Ivy.”

When his hand suddenly clamped down on my shoulder from behind, my muscles reacted instinctively, guided by countless hours of training.

In a blur of motion, I seized Grayson’s wrist, pivoting on my heel to face him as I simultaneously torqued his arm, aiming to lock it behind his back in a classic self-defense maneuver.

But mid-twist, Grayson snaked his wrist free from my grasp, his arm slipping through my fingers like a whip, and then he lunged forward, his hands shooting out to grab both of my shoulders in a viselike hold—halting my defensive spin and locking me in place.

“Hey.” He searched my eyes. “What the hell happened in there?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“To hell it doesn’t. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

This was the whole problem. I was trying to hold on to how I should be feeling, but with his hands on my shoulders, the warmth from his touch sent ripples throughout my entire body.

I never imagined I would want to kiss a killer, let alone one who’d been sent to end my life, but I guess the universe could be as twisted as it was ironic, because here I was, studying Grayson with a new lens.

The very qualities that made him lethal to others stirred something else within me…something I wasn’t ready to admit.

His gaze held an intensity that could make even the strongest men tremble. Yet, when his stare met mine, those same eyes softened, revealing a gentle concern and tender affection that made my heart flutter.

The rugged stubble framing his chiseled jaw and sensuous lips added to his dangerous allure, a tantalizing contrast to the vulnerability he’d shown me. His dark, expressive brows and casually disheveled locks tempted me to let my guard down and succumb to his magnetic charm.

But it was his hands that truly captivated me, in a way no man’s ever had before. Powerful hands that could snap a neck with ease, yet, as I studied them, I couldn’t help but imagine how they would feel against my skin, tracing the contours of my body with a gentleness that countered their strength.

This man was destruction and protection, all wrapped up into a package of model-like looks, a lethal combination that called not to my fear, but to my raw desires.

But I needed to keep these desires, these unwanted emotions, under control.

“How much longer do we have to be here?” I asked. Because every second felt like dangling from an emotional cliff, my fingers slipping off the edge. “When is your boss supposed to get back to you?”

Grayson’s captivating eyes darted between mine, a puzzled expression etching itself into the line forming between his eyebrows. The subtle changes in his demeanor—the slight tilt of his head, the way his lips parted ever so slightly—only intensified his allure, drawing me in even as he struggled to keep pace with my sudden mood shift.

“Anytime now,” he replied.

“What do you think he’s going to send you?”

“What?”

“Just answer the question.”

Grayson dropped his hands from my shoulders. I should’ve been elated, for crying out loud, not mourning the loss of his touch.

Stupid heart.

“He’s searching for the evidence.”

“Against me.”

“Ivy…”

“But there isn’t any evidence.” My voice wavered slightly as I shifted my footing, trying to steady my nerves. “So, what then?”

Grayson tucked his hands into his pockets, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his shirt. “Once he realizes there is no evidence against you, everything will fall into place.” His deep voice held a note of reassurance, but I couldn’t shake the lingering doubt.

“They’ll call off the assassination,” I clarified, searching his face for confirmation.

Grayson paused before nodding once.

“But you’re only speculating; this has never happened before, right?” I pressed, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Ivy, the CIA has no interest in eliminating an innocent civilian. Once they realize a mistake was made, this will all be over.”

“And I can go back to my life.” I squared my shoulders, trying to look confident rather than heartbroken at the thought. “Without you, right?”

His lips thinned in offense, a muscle ticcing in his jaw. “Is that what you want?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

No. That’s the whole problem. I’m suddenly finding it hard to imagine you not being by my side.

When I nodded my silent lie, Grayson’s face darkened, a tornado brewing behind it. “We still haven’t figured out who lured you to the parking garage, Ivy.” His words were meant to remind me the danger that still lurked, but I couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of his voice, the intensity of his stare.

I balled my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms. “I can’t stay here.”

“Why?” He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming my senses.

“I just can’t!”

“I know this is hard…” He reached out, his fingertips grazing my arm, sending a blaze of heat across my skin that battled with the crisp air.

“You don’t know anything; I can’t stay here.” I jerked away from his touch, my skin cold from the absence of our smoldering connection.

He fixed me with an unwavering stare. “Why?”

“Because I don’t trust myself around you!” I blurted out, my cheeks flushing with the admission.

Grayson’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Trust yourself to do what?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled.

“Answer my question,” he commanded.

Great. Now, my stupid hormones were imagining him commanding me to do naughty things to him with that same tone of voice.

“No.” I’d keep my feelings buried.

Suspicion etched across his face. “What are you keeping from me?”

Wonderful, Ivy. Thanks to your Oscar-worthy performance of a guilty woman on the run, he probably thinks you’re hiding something far worse than feelings and sexual fantasies.

“Nothing,” I insisted, my heart racing.

“If you’re keeping something from me”—he stepped closer with his jaw clenched—“you’d damn well better tell me now. I’ve stuck my neck out, protecting you, Ivy.”

Shit. Surviving an Assassination Order 101: Do not give your assassin turned protector a reason to slam your skull into a tree.

I swallowed my erratic heartbeat, looking up into his smoldering gaze.

“After all of this”—Grayson’s voice dropped to a whisper—“tell me right here and now. Are you guilty, Ivy?”

Suddenly, the sanctuary of space shifted from an asset to a liability on the balance sheet of survival. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, Grayson could do whatever he wanted to me, and no one would be able to stop him.

“We already talked about this.” My pathetic voice came out in a whisper.

His leer swept over my face, and when he spoke, his voice was sharper than it had been before. “That was before you bolted out of the house and into the woods.”

A stronger woman would not allow her eyes to burn with tears right now.

“You actually think that I’m guilty?” I choked.

“Up until this moment? No.”

“I can’t believe after everything we’ve been through, you’re doubting me!”

“Why did you run off then, Ivy?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Answer the fucking question!” he snapped.

“Because I’m falling for you!” My words tumbled out in frustration.

The frosty air whispered through the trees as Grayson stood, motionless, stunned by my admission. The silence stretched between us, electric and charged with unspoken feelings, and then, in a swift motion, he closed the distance between us, grabbing me forcefully and crashing his lips against mine.

A gasp escaped my throat at the sudden impact, but as Grayson’s fingers wove into my hair, holding me against him with an unyielding force, I melted into his embrace. My body molded to his, our heartbeats becoming one.

Grayson’s kiss was a delicious contradiction—fierce yet tender, demanding yet giving. His tongue slid against mine, igniting a fire that coursed down my throat and pooled between my legs, making the space between them throb with need. I parted my lips further, inviting him to explore and claim me as his own.

As our kiss deepened, I wrapped my arms around him, marveling at the raw strength and power that lay beneath his skin. I traced the contours of his muscles, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every inch of his body against mine.

When Grayson finally pulled back, I couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped my lips at the loss, but as his gaze met mine, the depth of emotion in his green specs made my heart rejoice. In that moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist—there was only us, our feelings laid bare in the stillness of the forest.

“That’s why you ran out of the house?” He smirked as this new reality rained over him. Based on the relaxing of all his deadly operative muscles, this wasn’t a lethal offense. “Because you’re developing feelings for me?”

“I don’t want to,” I clarified.

His damn smirk stretched even wider, and he brought his hand up to my chin—holding it between his thumb and finger, as if daring me not to gasp at his touch. His other hand, it was on my hip, so close to the drumbeat pounding between my legs.

“And that would be so bad, would it?”

Catastrophic, actually.

“I can’t…” Find words all of a sudden, evidently. “I can’t date a hit man.” Ta-da! There are the words.

“Assassin.”

“Same thing.”

Grayson scanned my face, like he was seeing it for the first time all over again. “It’s not, actually.”

I know. But if you’ll excuse me, I’m trying to brainwash myself into hating you.

“But you are developing feelings for me.” He even had the audacity to keep his tone low and even, like what he said hadn’t just activated the launch sequence of falling head over heels for him. “Aren’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I claimed, attempting to step back, but he held me tighter.

“Disagree.”

“Why is that?”

“Because, aside from keeping you alive,” he said, drawing his face so close to mine, I could feel the heat of his breath bouncing off my mouth, “your confession has just become the single most important thing in my world.”

Great. I’m pretty sure my panties just disintegrated. Spontaneous panty combustion.

Grayson cupped my face.

“You actually thought I might be guilty,” I spat.

Hold on to that. It was the last thread of my fraying willpower.

“A knee-jerk reaction,” Grayson murmured, too busy studying my mouth to see how angry my glare was attempting to be. “When I sense a possible complication, I have a natural tendency to rule out threats. I apologize.”

More evidence my emotions could not be trusted. I should hate him for his momentary doubt, but all I could do was focus on the warmth radiating from his skin on my cheeks and the way his attention roamed over my face with newfound hope, mixed with desire.

As the October chill drifted across my skin, I felt helpless, unable to fight the current anymore.

He stared at my mouth as he swept his thumb across my lower lip—igniting that fire shooting through my body once more. A jolt of its flames pulsing between my thighs again.

My breathing quickened as I dared another look into his eyes.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Ivy.” Grayson’s voice was husky. “You’re a beautiful contradiction. Small, fragile-looking, even. Yet capable of taking a trained agent to his knees.”

I swallowed. “We would never work together.”

The warmth from his thumb engulfed my throat, my chest swelling with each breath.

“Wouldn’t we?” He arched a playful brow.

“Nope.”

Grayson’s stare did not leave my mouth as he slowly drew his lips closer to mine, one inch at a time.

“So, you’ve thought about us, then?” he whispered.

I’ve thought about what your hands might feel like on my body. What your hips would feel like, pressing against my inner thighs.

“Only about how much it would never work.”

Grayson’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Liar.”

And then…

Then, his lips pressed to mine.

Oh my god.

The thread completely broke.

As I parted my lips, his heated breath intermingled with mine, and the delicate touch of his tongue against my own elicited a deep, guttural groan from within me.

My fingers wove through his silky hair once more, grasping the back of his head as our mouths moved in perfect unison, opening and closing with burning passion. A fire ignited within me, every nerve ending coming alive, and in that moment, I craved every inch of him desperately. Deeply.

Grayson’s hands continued to cradle my face, his kiss growing more urgent and desperate with each passing second. I arched my back, pressing my chest against his, yearning to close any remaining distance between us.

A moan escaped his lips, vibrating against my mouth and intensifying my longing for his touch on other parts of my body…

Shifting my hands to his shoulders, I marveled at the sculpted strength beneath my fingertips, his muscles flexing as his hands trailed down my face.

His right hand found its way to my throat, and though he applied no pressure, the sensation should have filled me with dread. After all, this man possessed the power to extinguish my life in an instant—a prolonged squeeze to cut off my air supply or a swift twist to sever my spine.

Yet, inexplicably, his touch had an entirely different effect on me. My back arched involuntarily, and the heat within me surged to an almost-unbearable level.

Especially when his other hand began to glide down my chest.

And cupped my breast.

“Grayson,” I whimpered.

Suddenly, he picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist, carrying me back to the cabin without a hint of strain.

Through the front door, which he kicked closed with his foot. Down the hallway and into a bedroom.

He dropped me onto the bed with a bounce and leaned over me, his face inches from my own as he wrapped his right hand around my throat again and commanded, “stay.”

I didn’t move.

I had never been more turned on in my entire life.

Grayson kept his eyes locked on mine as he stood back up and retrieved a small plastic square from the wallet in his back pocket. A fragment of a thought appreciated that he was responsible enough to keep protection with him at all times. A jealous thought wondered who might’ve been with him last, but I shoved it aside, my body demanding my full attention.

My inner thighs ached with need, my stomach clenching at the thought of him slipping that on and climbing on top of me.

But he didn’t. Instead, he stood at the foot of the bed, his attention gliding over my body.

My breath caught in my throat as Grayson commanded in a low growl, “Take off your clothes.” His fiery emeralds seared my skin, igniting a firestorm of desire in my veins.

With trembling fingers, I discarded my shirt and bra, my nipples tightening under his hungry stare. Grayson shed his own top, revealing a gorgeous blanket of olive skin and rippling muscles that made me ache to touch him.

We quickly removed the rest of our clothing until there was nothing left between us but charged anticipation. Grayson’s gaze raked over my naked body, the raw need in his expression sending an electric current down my spine.

“Every inch of you is gorgeous,” he rasped.

But he was the one who was gorgeous here. I mean, my God, I didn’t know bodies like this existed in real life. His arms and stomach were lined with perfection, each ridge one that I wanted to commit to memory, so I could draw them anytime I wanted in my mind’s eye.

Then, he was on me, his mouth a fire trailing heat down my throat to my breasts. When he dragged his tongue over my nipple, I arched into him with a gasp, pleasure pulsing to my core. My nipples peaked beneath the warmth of his tongue and the chilly air as Grayson sucked and licked in spectacular circles.

A soft moan escaped my throat, and my thighs trembled. When he moved to the other breast, his thumb dragging over the bud before consuming it with his lips, my hips began to squirm, greedily wanting him inside me.

Yet wanting him to slow down and never leave my chest, all at the same time. Longing for him to spend his days and nights licking and sucking my breasts and leave trails of chilly skin in the wake of his heat.

His lips were both soft yet aggressive, and then…he trailed his mouth lower, down my quivering stomach, where his kisses lingered, teasing me perhaps. Or drawing out the suspense. The hunger between my thighs became unbearable.

“Please,” I panted, too far gone to care that I was begging.

Grayson’s face lit with mischief, his moss-colored eyes crinkling as his mouth slanted up. “Running out of patience already, Kitten?”

I blushed at the nickname, remembering its meaning. “I need you,” I breathed.

Grayson trailed his hands over the swell of my breasts, down my stomach, and then knelt, spreading my thighs. I felt exposed, vulnerable, as he drank in the sight of me.

“Exquisite,” he growled. “You’re so beautiful, Ivy.”

The pulsing intensified, the hunger becoming unbearable as I bloomed for him, glistening and ready.

He trailed a finger down my sex, making me suck in a ragged breath as he slowly pushed his finger inside me.

I fisted the bedspread as he plunged deeper, stoking the ache at my center.

Then, his mouth was on me, and I nearly jackknifed off the bed at the first slick slide of his tongue.

He devoured my pearl, silencing every coherent thought as he feasted on my cries and whimpers. Grayson took what he wanted, and it was intoxicatingly intense, having him take control like this, touch my body the way he wanted, making me his own.

Something in my lower stomach began to vibrate and pulse, and when my hips jerked, he pressed his free palm harder against my thigh to hold me in place while circling his tongue along the apex of my desire.

I looked down, and for a moment, I allowed myself to savor the scene. Grayson, the tall, muscular lethal operative, kneeling between my spread thighs, his head buried in my aching sex. His eyes were closed in blissful concentration, opening periodically to drink in the sight of my glistening folds. While his broad shoulders flexed, his dark locks bobbed as his fingers pumped in and out of me.

He played my body’s notes like an orchestra’s conductor, coaxing sighs and moans from my lips with every flick of his tongue. The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth on me filled the room, mingling with my increasingly desperate cries. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in my core as he licked and sucked and swirled, the pressure building until I thought I might shatter from the sheer, ruthless ecstasy of it all.

I fisted my hand in his hair, mindless with need, seconds from begging him to never stop. In that moment, I’d never been more aroused in my life, completely at the mercy of this gorgeous, dangerous man as he brought me to the brink.

“Come for me, Kitten,” Grayson demanded against my flesh. “I want to taste your pleasure.”

His words were my undoing. With a hoarse cry, I shattered, shuddering and clenching as the most intense orgasm of my life ripped through me. Grayson growled, working me through every last ripple of bliss.

Panting, dazed, I could only stare as he slowly kissed his way back up my body, the steel of his arousal pressing insistently against my thigh.

“I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me,” Grayson rasped.

He reached for the condom, sheathing himself with a hiss before lining himself up at my entrance.

“I’m going to claim every inch of you,” he promised.

He pushed slightly, breaching my entrance with a pinch. I grabbed his shoulders as he pushed in another inch, slowly dipping inside of me, waiting for my body to swallow him, one inch at a time.

Filling me, stretching me, until finally, he was all the way inside. Our bodies, our souls connecting into a beautiful piece of art, a puzzle finally finding its match.

“You feel so damn good,” he growled into my neck. “Like you were made for me.”

He pulled out slightly, then pushed all the way back in, stretching me, branding me.

He began to move then, deep, rolling thrusts that stoked the embers of my desire back into an inferno. The drag of his hardness against my inner walls was indescribable, hitting a spot inside me that made stars explode behind my vision.

“Grayson, please…” I wasn’t even sure what I was asking for, only that I needed more of him, all of him.

His big hand wrapped around my throat, exerting just the right amount of pressure to make me lightheaded with want.

“Surrender to me, Ivy,” Grayson growled, his eyes still locked on mine.

I was enthralled by the raw carnality in his features as he pumped his hips harder into my thighs. Stretching me as my growing ache rose higher and higher.

“Do you know what I want to do to you?” He squeezed my neck tighter. “All the ways I want to take you?”

I could only moan brokenly, fingernails scoring down his sweat-slicked back as I hurtled toward another shattering climax.

“That’s it, Kitten,” Grayson commanded. “Let me feel you fall apart.”

His words sent me flying. With a guttural scream, I climaxed hard enough to see stars, my release triggering Grayson’s. He thrust into me one last time with a harsh groan, pulsing deep in my core.

In the aftermath, we clung to each other, chests heaving. Grayson brushed damp tendrils of hair off my face with a tenderness that made my heart sigh. I knew, with bone-deep certainty, that nothing would ever be the same.