Crossfire (Cross Duet #1)

53. IVY

53

IVY

Rule number one for being alone in the car with a hit man who tried to end your life and had just almost done it again: Be grateful. Be appreciative he changed his mind. And thank him for now vowing to help try to save your life.

Turns out, my heart wasn’t on board with these rules. It was too busy replaying how hurt it was, that he’d ever questioned my innocence after everything I’d shared.

Which was absurd. Anyone who had gotten those damning files would question it.

I would. And yet?

Irrationality , welcome to the party.

“I said I was sorry,” Grayson repeated.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“You’ve been giving me the silent treatment for over an hour. You’re going to have to talk to me eventually.”

“You were going to kill me.”

“I wasn’t,” he claimed, but the doubt in his tone confirmed he’d considered it, at least for a minute, even if he didn’t go through with it in the end.

“You chased me and slammed me up against the tree.”

“You ran. I couldn’t let you get away,” he said, like that was an acceptable explanation.

“You thought I was guilty .”

“It was a momentary slip.”

“A slip?” I snapped, glowering at him. “A slip is when you forget an anniversary. Not when you use your deadly skills to almost off your…” Your what? What was I about to say? I was certainly not his girlfriend.

P.S. After that little psychotic stunt, I never would be.

Ever.

Not that I was considering it before, let me be clear. All I had done was indulge in some fantasies of what it might be like to…well, it didn’t matter.

What mattered was that one minute, I was making love to Grayson and sharing secrets, and the next, he slammed me up against the tree with his murder forearm and serial-killer eyes.

“What I mean is,” Grayson sighed, “I shouldn’t have questioned your innocence.”

“But you did. Not just a little bit. Not like, Hey, Ivy, can you explain these unexplainable photographs on my computer? No, you grabbed me.” And probably would have killed me if I didn’t beg him to stop.

He had the audacity to let out an exacerbated sigh. “For the zillionth time, I’m sorry.”

He reached across the car and placed his hand on mine.

I yanked mine away.

“Tell me what I can do to make this up to you,” Grayson said.

“You know your lack of experience with relationships is pretty damn glaring.”

“Meaning?”

“You actually think there’s something that you can say to apologize for what you did?”

He studied me, for two seconds longer than someone who was driving should.

“Your feelings are hurt,” he said.

“Fuck off.”

“Very hurt.” Grayson raised his eyebrows.

We drove in silence for a minute. Best minute of my life.

“How about this?” Grayson shifted in his seat. “What if I promise to never try to kill you again?”

I brought my hands under my chin and batted my eyelashes. “Oh, do you pinkie promise?”

Grayson rolled his eyes. “I warned you I’m not good at relationships.”

“We are not in a relationship.”

“I disagree.”

Wow. Maybe I had been too quick to rule him out as being a psycho.

“Have you ever watched a romantic movie?” I asked.

He said nothing.

“Of course you haven’t. But I can assure you, a man accusing a woman of being some sort of violent arms dealer and attempting to kill her? Not the plot of any romantic movie.”

Grayson side-eyed me. “Seeing as how I’m lacking experience in this department, can you give me a ballpark as to how long it might be before you forgive me?”

“You think I’ll forgive you?”

I almost laughed.

He pursed his lips.

“I’m going out on a limb here,” he reminded me. “I’m trying to save your life.”

Well, damn. Didn’t I instantly feel like a bitch? But it wasn’t every day that a girl finds out the guy she’s into stops heartbeats for a living. Not to mention…

“After you tried to end it! Twice!”

You know saying that out loud, maybe I was the crazy one here. I mean, so what if he claimed he was 100% certain of my innocence?

“I didn’t try…” He trailed off, opting to sigh in absolute exhaustion rather than deny it again. And even if he did deny it, he could be lying.

Wouldn’t be hard for someone with no soul. But I had once again come to the conclusion that if there was some person or entity out there so determined to end my life that they were willing to go to the extreme measures of manufacturing evidence against me, my shot at survival was extremely slim.

My best chance was to have, well, a bodyguard of sorts. A man capable of ending lives as easily as breathing.

How infuriating—that my best chance of surviving was accepting help from him.

Again. F my life.

“I’m disobeying orders for you.”

“Oh, you poor little hit man. Your life must be so hard.”

I turned on the radio to drown out his incessant voice.

“Baby One More Time” by Britney Spears blasted on the radio.

I arched an eyebrow at him . Fitting, eh?

Grayson shoved the button off. “How long is it going to take you to get past this?”

“Quarter past never.”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

I scoffed. “Go to hell.”

My body flew to the left through the squeal of tires, and the seat belt slammed against my chest as the car jerked me forward, resting with a sudden stop.

“I said I was sorry.” Grayson turned his entire body in my direction.

“Well, I don’t forgive you.”

In hindsight, a very stupid thing to say on the side of a remote road, surrounded by forests, but my bitch meter was off the charts. It turns out, fearing your love interest might snap your neck puts you in one seriously bad mood.

Grayson unbuckled his seat belt and launched himself over the center console, his lower body partially in the driver’s seat as his face rested inches above my own. I gasped, assuming for a second that he’d snapped and was about to break my neck.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me,” he insisted.

“I disagree.”

“But I’m getting tired of you yelling at me,” he grumbled.

“Well, I’m getting tired of you trying to kill me.”

Grayson paused for several seconds, as if debating his next move. His frustrated glare darted between my eyes and my mouth, and then he brought his warm hand up and cupped my cheek.

I tried to pull away, but in this confined space, there wasn’t enough room to do it.

But what I hated even more than him having the audacity to think he could touch me like this was that my body still reacted to it. To him. To his scent, to the hungry look in his eyes as it roamed over my face. It brought me right back to when we were nude, cradled in each other’s arms.

“I hate you.”

Grayson’s mouth curled up slightly. “No, you don’t.”

No, I don’t.

But I want to.

I need to.

It’s the only rational feeling to have for the assassin sent to end my life. Even if he is helping me right now.

He trailed his hand down my throat, pausing with his fingers over my jugular—which was beating much faster than I wanted it to, dammit.

Arousal makes it impossible to keep secrets.

“I’m glad your heart is still beating,” he cooed.

“You need to seriously work on your romantic lines.”

His mouth curled up on one side again.

I glanced around the windows, part of me wanting a car to come along to stop whatever was happening here.

Most of me dreading that one might…

I couldn’t forgive him for what he did. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t…

Right?

He cupped my left breast, eliciting a breathless gasp. His mouth suddenly hovered just above mine, his hot breath caressing my lips. An ache bloomed in my lower belly, spreading like wildfire to the space between my thighs.

This is wrong. Wrong to feel anything other than anger.

“And what about now?” Grayson squeezed my breast harder, causing a momentary biting pain. “Do you hate me now?”

All I could do was breathe through the arousal—which, evidently, was also linked to those good feelings for him. The ones where I felt protected and cherished.

I shut my eyes, willing it to go away, but he trailed his hand down my sternum, down my belly, to the top of my pants.

His fingertips pulled my waistband back, only slightly, and when I opened my eyes, he was staring into mine, measuring my reaction.

I didn’t understand what was going on in my heart or soul anymore. I didn’t understand logic or reason, just…pure, unadulterated desire.

Desire stronger than I’d ever felt for anyone before.

Maybe it was some sort of a chemical reaction, heightened when life or death hung in the balance almost every time we were together. Or maybe there was something about Grayson that unlocked a sensual side of me I had never explored before.

Either way, it was crazy that I was still attracted to Grayson. It was psychotic that his apology felt genuine and even…normal, in the context of our very abnormal relationship. But I think what was most psychotic was how badly I ached to feel him inside me again. I wanted to feel his lips on my neck, his tongue on my nipples, my body stretching around him as I arched my back with each thrust until it quivered into an explosive orgasm around him.

Grayson looked at my lips, glanced at my eyes one more time, and then tilted his head to the side, pressing his mouth against mine. With his free hand, he unbuckled my seat belt and slipped his hand beneath my panties, sliding one finger between my thighs.

Groaning when he felt how ready for him I was.

“You like this, don’t you?” he growled into my mouth. “Being mad at me.”

“No,” I claimed.

I could feel the curl of his lips as he whispered, “Liar.”

He breached my entrance, making me suck in a ragged breath as he slipped his finger inside of me.

The ache between my legs intensified.

But he held his hand still, torturing me.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice was a low, growly command.

I tried not to say it. I tried to breathe through my arousal, but the thread of resistance snapped when he pushed his hand harder against me, the heel of his palm hitting that sensitive bud.

“Say it, or I’ll stop,” he threatened.

“I want you inside of me,” I admitted against his lips.

He rewarded me by adding a second finger and began a slow, agonizing pump.

Oh my g…

It felt like heaven, every thrust, the heel of his hand hitting my sensitive bud with each movement. And then…then he curled his fingers to hit that ecstasy spot inside.

Mouth open, I dropped my head back to the headrest, my skin alive with sensation as he moved his lips down my jaw, down my neck, his fingers pumping in and out.

A wave clenched in my lower stomach, building in intensity as he trailed his lips back up to my jugular.

“Grayson,” I moaned.

He growled and nipped the skin on my neck. “I like hearing my name roll off your tongue, Kitten.”

He pumped faster, the ache between my legs so intense, I didn’t think I could take it anymore.

“I want your thighs around my ears,” he said. “I want to taste you and bring you to the edge with my tongue.”

Oh my word.

“Then, I want to bend you over,” he continued.

Pumping. Swirling. Curling, hitting every mark as I rose higher and higher.

“I don’t want to be gentle with you,” he admitted.

“I don’t want you to be either,” I gasped.

The wave, the ache, it was almost…

But suddenly, he pulled his hand out, shifted off of me, and moved his driver’s seat all the way back, pulling his pants down until his massive girth sprang free.

My mouth watered at the sight.

“Take your anger out on me, Kitten.”

He sheathed himself with a condom he’d pulled from his glove compartment, and then he sat there, waiting.

Arrogant ass, assuming I’d have sex with him after what he did.

To his credit, he was letting me make the decision.

My attention darted around the car quickly.

“Someone could come by at any moment.” I bit my lip.

“Then, you’d better come fast, Kitten.”

The ache between my legs begged me to throw caution to the wind, demanded release, throbbing at the sight of him.

I yanked my pants and underwear off, Grayson’s eyes dilating at the space between my legs as I brought it over him, and lined him up at my entrance.

Slowly, achingly, I sank down onto him.

Inch by delicious inch, I took him in, relishing the exquisite stretch and fullness as he filled me completely.

Grayson groaned, holding my hips as I began to rock them. Angrily. Passionately, bobbing up and down, I rode him with abandon, our bodies meeting in a frenzied rhythm.

Desperate for anchor, I clawed at his shoulders, my nails raking across the fabric of his shirt.

As my mouth fell open, my breaths coming in raspy gasps, Grayson pulled my lips to his and said, “You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

I nipped at his bottom lip in retaliation, grinding down onto him with renewed fervor. The ache in my core built to a crescendo as his thick shaft plunged into me over and over.

Hitting that perfect spot deep inside.

Spine arching, I leaned back, my eyes locked with Grayson’s.

His thumb found my sensitive bud, circling it with devastating precision. I could only surrender to the sensation as I teetered on the brink.

“Now that I have you,” he rasped, his voice a dark promise, “I’ll never let you go.”

That’s all it took for me to break over the edge.

I shattered around him, our gazes locked in a searing connection as I pulsed and quivered with the force of my release. Grayson’s grip on my hips tightened, holding me flush against him as he followed me over the edge with his own climax.

We clung to each other, hearts racing, until the last tremors of pleasure ebbed away, leaving us spent and breathless in the aftermath.