Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,220

dark slash of his brows. “Can you do that for me?”

“Bris.” He drops his lashes, covering whatever is hiding in his eyes. “I don’t think—”

“Right—don’t think, just tell me.”

He scans my face. I know my expression is a blank check, offering him whatever he wants, but I don’t care. All hesitation falls away. Staring back at me is the persistent man who pursued me shame- lessly for eight years, who wore my resistance down to nothing.

“I want you to come with me.” A muscle clenches in his jaw. “I know it’s selfish and might seem like I’m asking you to follow me across the country, but—”

“Yes.”

“I’m still asking,” he goes on, like I didn’t speak, like he didn’t hear me. “I don’t know how we make it work. We’ll figure that out together, but the thought of seeing you only a few times a month . . . I know we can do it, I just don’t want to.”

“Grip.”

“And maybe I am a caveman. Maybe it is sexist to ask you to be the one who moves. It’s just, with classes three times a week, I don’t see how I can—”

“Grip.” I press my fingers over the soft lips that were making love to my nipples not even an hour ago. “Baby, I said yes.”

“You did?” he mumbles into my fingers, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“I did.” I laugh, not exactly sure how I’ll make it work, but knowing that I will. For him, I will. “I mean, I’ll have to come back and forth some, but I have to try. I don’t want a long-distance relation- ship. That sounds like torture.”

Grip’s smile dims and his brows draw together.

“But Rhyson needs you here now more than ever. He won’t be happy to hear you’re moving to New York at such a crucial time.”

“Rhys will understand. He’s got Kai.” “What does that mean?”

“That he knows how it feels to have someone who means more than everything else.”

Grip’s expression softens. His eyes are intent, like he’s memorizing the way the light strikes my face the same way I’m memorizing him. He slowly, painstakingly peels the sheet back from my breasts, the cool air raising goose bumps on my naked skin . . . or maybe that’s just Grip.

“I know you said you like a rough fuck.” Grip shifts until he’s leaning over me, his weight supported by the muscles flexing in his arms. He slots his lean hips between my thighs, and I feel him eager and ready again through the sheet covering my legs. “But how do you feel about long, slow, grateful ones?”

I widen my thighs so he sinks deeper into me.

“The longer,” I say, reaching between us to grab his growing erection, my hand fisting him, lengthening him. “The better.”

Chapter 4

Bristol

ME: Hey! I know it’s Sunday morning, but I need to talk to you about something.

Rhyson: Sure. You wanna call?

Me: I was actually thinking about coming over.

Rhyson: See you when you get here.

Me: I’m kind of already here.

No message bubbles appear, and a few seconds later the front door to Rhyson’s stately home flings open. My twin brother stands in the entrance, grinning at me as I lean against my baby girl, the Audi convertible I bought a few years ago.

“Aren’t you polite this morning?” He steps back, gesturing for me to walk past him into the house. “You usually just barge in.”

He’s right. I have all his codes and keys, full access to his life. “That was before Kai moved in.” I pause in the doorway to give him a quick hug before walking through to the foyer. “If you didn’t like to screw your little wife all over this place at all times of the day, maybe I would risk showing up unannounced.”

He offers no apologies, only that cocky grin that used to strip women of their panties. Now he just uses it to tell me he’s a happily married man with one set of panties to worry about.

“Probably a good idea.” He tips his head toward the kitchen. “Come on. I’m eating breakfast.”

Sunshine brightens the room, the marble counters and modern state-of-the-art appliances—which Rhyson’s probably never touched—gleaming. His housekeeper has always taken good care of him, and now Kai cooks any time her schedule allows.

“Hungry? Coffee?” Rhyson glances at me, his eyes silvery under a sweep of dark hair. He’s my brother, but even I can appreciate that he’s a beautiful man.

Of course he is—we’re twins.

He and I tell Grip that all the time to