“I can feel the toy vibrating inside you,” he tells me.
I bite my lip so hard, blood fills my mouth. I don’t want to give him a single sound.
He gives me a second to adjust, then starts to move. My body is on fire. And then, weirdly enough, something flips in my brain.
It doesn’t feel bad. Or like an intrusion.
I rock my hips back, and his cock slides deeper. The double penetration makes me feel too full, but it’s a unique, shiver-inducing sensation.
“Give it to me,” he grunts. “Tell me you like my cock in your ass.”
I don’t say it. Fuck that.
He reaches around me, his front pressing to my back, and tweaks my nipple. The vibrator goes to a higher level, a pulse, and he groans. He rubs my breast, scraping his nail along the cut he gave me. Fresh blood rolls down my breast and drips to the floor. He alternates between touching the cut and pinching my nipples between his fingers.
He thrusts into me harder, and I let out another whimper.
I can’t come again.
But it seems he has other plans, because he doesn’t let up. He circles his hips, and my eyes roll back. He pounds into me with wild abandon.
“So fucking tight.” He slides his hand between my chest, down to my abdomen, and holds it there. “You don’t know what taking your last virgin hole is doing to me.”
He comes with a roar, slamming into me a final time.
It’s too much. Again.
I let go, and I think I black out as my orgasm overtakes me. My body relaxes all at once, and Greyson grabs me before I take a header into the wall. Still, my eyes close.
When my eyes open, I’m flat on my back. Somehow, we went from there to here, my wrists now untied and resting at my sides. I flex my fingers to get blood circulating in them again, and I move to sit up.
Greyson stops me. “Tell me what my father told you.”
I stiffen.
He shakes his head and winds his hand to the back of my neck, helping me rise a little. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Vi. What’s he giving you in exchange for… avoiding me?” He narrows his eyes. “For having nothing to do with me?”
He knows.
Somehow, he knows.
Dread laces through me, and I grab his wrist. I keep it on my neck. I don’t know what to feel—part of me is too exhausted to feel anything at all. But I know that I like Greyson far more than I should.
I know this last month of avoiding him has been hell.
“It’s a long story,” I hedge.
He sits beside me. His brows furrow. “Then tell it.”
I shiver.
He pauses, then goes to get his sweatshirt. He helps me slide my arms through the sleeves, briefly touching my wrists. I put it over my head and immediately sigh. It’s not cold in here, but when you’re naked…
It smells like him, too.
“I went to Vermont to meet with a specialist, at the behest of Crown Point Ballet’s artistic director,” I start.
“Mia Germain.”
“Uh-huh.” I narrow my eyes. “How do you know that?”
He shrugs. “I saw your texting thread with her.”
Oh, great. I should really password protect my stupid phone. Willow calls me out for being too trusting, too.
“Anyway.” I shift and try to ignore the soreness in my ass. Ugh. “Dr. Michaels said my leg healed okay, and it was physically able to support my dancing, but the nerve pain was holding me back.”
“Nerve pain.” His gaze drops to my leg, then back up. “How long has that been going on?”
“Since the accident?” I shrug.
“You touch it sometimes. Your leg, I mean. Like it hurts. I just thought it was something that you did as a habit.” He winces. “And you’ve been running—”
“Dr. Michaels ordered an MRI to check for stress fractures and then suggested aquatic therapy for the nerve pain,” I say in a rush. “But I wouldn’t have been able to afford any of it. My mom and I… I don’t know what happened, really, but we don’t have a relationship anymore.”
Is it her fault or mine that we fell apart?
Whose responsibility is it to keep a family together?
“Vi,” Greyson says.
I tap my fingers on his wrist. “Your father’s secretary called when we were still in Vermont. She knew…”
“Because I mentioned Dr. Michaels.” He rubs his eyes. “Goddammit, I just wanted to know if he had heard anything about the man. I didn’t expect him to piece it together—especially since he knew where we were.”
“She said, and I’m assuming this was coming straight from your father, that I was a distraction for you. They had high hopes of you going to the NHL or something.” I hate that they were able to twist me like that. They played me like a fiddle. “They took care of my medical bills. The MRI, the water therapy. The place just bills them every time I go.”
Shame fills me.
“I don’t know what to do. Because ballet is finally within reach again. My leg feels better than it has in months. But…” You.
He leans forward and kisses me. Hard. It reopens the nick on my lip from where I bit it earlier, but neither of us care. We’re suddenly dying to get closer to each other.
I crawl into his lap, straddling him, and wrap my arms around his neck. We’re chest to chest. It’s not even a surprise when his cock slides into me again. I rise on my knees and lower myself slightly. My groan gets lost in his mouth.
He pulls away a bit, still flexing his hips up to meet me. “That’s it? That’s how they’re bribing you?”
“That’s it,” I confirm. “But it feels like a whole lot.”
“Violet, I have a trust fund. I’ve had access to it since I turned twenty-one three months ago.” He cups my cheeks. “My father can fuck off. If you need someone to cover that therapy, I will.”
I shake my head. “I won’t ask you to do that—”
“You’re not asking.” He thrusts into me harder, then brings my face down to him. He plants a kiss on the corner of my lips and sweeps across to my ear. “I’m fucking telling you, Vi. It’s you and me. Only us. I’m not letting anyone or anything come between us again. You can count on that.”
“Only us,” I repeat, clutching him tighter. “Okay.”
40
GREYSON
Violet comes home with me.
I don’t ask about the photo album—she doesn’t seem to believe that I’m serious, and I don’t blame her for that. She’ll hold on to it until she feels safe again. And for now, I’m okay with that. After her terrible lie about burning it. She was right. For a split second, I believed her. Then my common sense kicked in… and I was able to piece together her intentions.
Everything I told her was the truth. The last month was my most frustrating—and hockey was my outlet. Now I’m flying high on adrenaline and her. The smell of her. The taste of her. She lies on her side, her head on my shoulder. She’s curled around me, our legs tangled, and I feel… content.
There’s another shoe waiting to drop, though.
Secrets I don’t think she knows.
She seemed na?ve about my father paying her medical bills, because that offer didn’t come out of left field.