Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,233

at my mother. “Thanks for coming by, Angela.”

She sketches a curt nod without glancing up at him.

“I’ll keep you posted,” she says easily before turning her eyes to me. “We need to have lunch before you go to New York, Bristol.”

I stiffen at her words. She’s already told me what she thinks of me leaving LA to “chase” Grip. Apparently, it’s anti-feminist to be with the man you love even when your job allows the flexibility to do so. I thought feminism was supposed to be about the power of our choices, and yet when I choose Grip, when I put him ahead of my career and convenience because I love him, that choice is denigrated. When women truly understand feminism, they see the power of knowing what you want more than anything and pursuing it.

And I want Grip more than anything.

“You are still going, right?” she asks when I’m silent.

“Definitely.” I cross the threshold and tuck under Grip’s arm, pressing into the faded scent of yesterday’s cologne and the pure, raw maleness of him. “I’ll call about lunch. I have a lot to get done.”

She nods and walks over to the elevator, holding my stare until the doors close.

“She’ll miss you.” Grip kisses my forehead and closes the door. Once we’re inside, he cages me against it with his elbows and forearms pressed alongside my head. “That’s why she’s salty, not any of that pseudo-feminist crap she spouts about you adjusting your plans to come with me.”

“Why was she here?” I won’t be distracted by the hard body crowding me, by the delicious shape of his shoulders straining against his T-shirt.

“Hmmm?” Grip licks at the curve of my neck and shoulder, his tongue like rough velvet.

“Don’t ‘hmmm’ me, Grip.” I slide away from his warm body, putting some space between us. “It’s like being in the Twilight Zone for me to come home and find you with my mother, so cut the crap. What did she want? Was it about me going to New York?”

I don’t wait for his response.

“Dammit.” I drop my bag by the couch and flop down, eyes trained on the ceiling. “Why can’t she just let me live my life?”

Grip slides his hands into the pockets of the loose lounge pants that hint at the sleek musculature of his legs. He settles on the couch beside me and captures my hand, kissing the knuckles.

“She wasn’t here about New York.” His words emerge reluctant, low, sober.

I glance at his sharply hewn profile, noting the muscle ticking in his jaw.

“What’s going on?”

His chest rises and falls with the deep breath he draws and expels before beginning.

“It’s Parker.”

I only have to hear that bastard’s name to feel Parker’s fingers probing roughly between my legs again. I chew on my bottom lip and can almost feel the sting of him biting me there, of him making me bleed. I ration a slow breath through my nose, steadying myself as much for Grip’s peace of mind as my own pride. I don’t want him to worry, though I know him well enough to see concern in his dark eyes already.

“What about him?” I drop my head to Grip’s shoulder and wait for his response.

After a beat of silence, he speaks. “He’s getting out.”

My body tenses involuntarily and I turn my head to search his face.

“When?”

He gathers both my hands in his and turns slightly on the couch so he can see me, pushing my hair back and cupping my neck.

“Next week or so.” Grip watches me closely. “We knew this would happen, babe. He’s got too much money and too many corrupt people in his pocket to hold him for long.”

I swallow, my muscles tautened with tension.

“I guess I hoped for a little more time to figure out a plan.”

“You ain’t figuring out nothing.” One brow lifts over Grip’s icy glance. “Son of a bitch is handled.”

“Handled?” A frown gathers on my face. “Handled how?”

“Apparently, his father has his own plans. He needs Parker free to make some merger happen. Shipping his ass off to Russia.”

“Russia? Merger?” I shake my head, but all the pieces still don’t make sense. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ever heard of SiberTech?”

“Yeah.” I nod, mentally rehearsing what I know, trying to make the pieces fit. “Natasha Sukolov’s family owns SiberTech. She went to high school with us in New York, but their interests still lie mainly in Russia. What does SiberTech have to do with Parker getting out?”

“They’re using a marriage between Parker