Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,236

fit,” he says. “But what do you think you want?”

“Amir moves to New York with us.”

“Hell no.” He glowers at me. “I don’t need him.”

“And I didn’t need you running interference with Parker, but I understand why you did that. For your own peace of mind. I need Amir in New York with you for mine.”

He’s quiet, staring at the tiles under his feet for a few seconds. “Grip, I know you think you’re all straight outta Compton . . .” I pause for his chuckle, which I know is coming. “But you’re famous now—like really famous, and you cannot assume everyone has good intentions.”

“I know that, but I can take care of myself.” He looks at me, the conflict of wanting to please me and needing to maintain his pride clear on his face. “I always have.”

“Well you haven’t always been this version of yourself,” I counter. “And you’ll be in situations with factors you can’t control all the time. You need another set of eyes, someone you can trust.”

He considers me, the stubbornness in his eyes yielding a little. “Rhyson’s had stalkers,” I remind him. “And he always resisted having a lot of security, but that taught him how vulnerable he is because of what he’s chosen to do. Now that he has Kai and Aria, security is tight and everywhere all the time.”

Grip just nods.

“Doing this for a living, it makes the stakes high,” I say. “But when you love someone, it raises them even more. You have more to lose, and I don’t want to lose you, Grip.”

Just the thought of something happening to him is like a hot poker through my heart. I know he can see the fear in my eyes. I don’t even try to hide it, and I am not above exploiting his love for me to get what I want it if means keeping him safe.

“Besides,” I say, struck with sudden inspiration I can’t believe I didn’t use earlier. “If Amir is there protecting you, he’s there to protect me, too, right?”

Grip’s eyes narrow and his hands go still as he considers this.

Bingo.

“Okay, he can come,” he finally says, but sets his face in stone. “But no way is he living in the same apartment. I don’t care how many floors it’s got.”

“I thought you might say that, which is why I already called about another apartment up for lease in the building.”

“You already . . .” He shakes his head, exasperation and grudging admiration in his eyes. “Okay, Bris.”

I turn to go before I feel less magnanimous, glad I’ve found at least enough peace with the situation not to ruin what was already going to be a difficult day.

“We’re good?” he asks, soaping the heavier muscles of his shoulders and his ink-splattered arms. Water skids over his chest and between the stacks of muscled abs. A trail of suds migrates south, catching in the hair nesting around his cock.

I lick suddenly dry lips and subtly squeeze my thighs together to suppress the involuntary pussy clench the sight of him incites. While I was negotiating, I could block out the absolute perfection of him, but now I can’t look away from the wide head that still feels like it’s splitting me open every time even after months together. I don’t know if my body will ever fully adjust—I hope not, because the almost-too- much-ness reflects my emotions, like this love is almost too much, straining the seams of my heart until I think I may burst from what I feel.

“Yeah . . .” I clear the huskiness—and hussy-ness—from my voice and try again. “Yeah, we’re good.”

A strong hand vises my wrist and tugs me forward until I’m just beyond the shower threshold, close enough for steam to slip under my dress, but not close enough to get wet—except I am wet. I may not be in the shower, but my panties are soaked. Then it only gets worse when, with his other hand, he strokes himself languorously, lazy flicks of his wrist that lengthen him into a thickly veined, rigid column.

“Bristol.”

My name on his lips pulls my attention from the steady pull between his thighs to the dark stare trained on me, his eyes narrowed with water droplets clinging to the thick lashes tangled at the corners.

“Tell me what you want.”

Those are my words, the ones I used to probe about New York. I knew what he wanted then, and he knows what I want now. I grit my teeth against