Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,66

upon something in the drawer by your bed that was very telling.”

There are two drawers in my bedside table. One holds journals and a few items that would tell him too much about my feelings. That drawer remains locked, so he wouldn’t have seen what was inside. But the other drawer . . .

“I’ve never seen so many vibrators in one place.” Grip’s grin is half-teasing, half-cruel. “Residential, of course. You’ve got your own black market sex store in there.”

My face heats, and I cannot even form words. Embarrassment chokes me.

“I figure anyone with that many vibrators can’t be coming on the regular. With a guy, I mean,” he clarifies unnecessarily.

“Stop it.” I fire the words at him, so angry, so humiliated I want to slap him.

“It’s okay.” With gentle fingers he brushes the heavy hair back from my forehead. “I think I understand the problem. It isn’t you. It’s them.”

I push away from the wall, only to be blocked and gently but firmly pressed back against the door.

“Guys, we can be so clumsy.” He shakes his head and sighs. “You know? Quick. Selfish.”

He trails fingers down my arm to link our fingers.

“See, I bet they start here,” he whispers, slipping his hand between us until his fingers lightly drift across the space just below my belly where my thighs juncture. My panties soak with the promise of his fingers. My breath catches at the brief contact where I crave him most.

“When they should start . . .” His hand glides up and over my belly and between my breasts. Over the curve of my shoulder and neck until he reaches his destination. He finally taps my temple three times. “Here. They should start here and work their way down because your mind is your most erogenous zone, Bris. I look forward to making you come with my words alone.”

I fumble with the knob behind my back until the door swings open. I take several steps into the apartment. I can think more clearly now that I’m away from that tower of muscle, bone, and heat standing pressed against me. The strong girl who has resisted him all these years is regaining her composure.

“Whatever you think you know about me,” I yell, not bothering to turn around. “About my sex life, about anything—you have no idea.”

I stride over to the couch and retrieve my bag, determined to get out of here with the hard shell still around my soft places. When I’m at the front door, I glance back, surprised to see Grip still in the stair- well where I left him, the door standing wide open. Our eyes clash one last time, and there’s a coalition of sadness and frustration and want in his gaze. I can’t afford to look too long, so I make a dash for the door, hoping against hope that he won’t come after me.

I’m nearly at my car by the time I realize I’m perversely saddened he didn’t follow.

Chapter 3

GRIP

I PROBABLY SHOULDN’T HAVE KISSED her.

Second thought, hell with that.

I’d do it again if given the opportunity. That’s just it. There hasn’t been an opportunity, no opening for years. And then all of a sudden last night, a crack. Something inside of Bristol opened just a fraction, but it was enough for me to explore and exploit. I would have explored and exploited all night if she had let me, but that space sealed shut almost immediately. Something shut her down. I don’t know what holds Bristol back from making us . . . an us. It has to be more than what happened with Tessa.

I saw that crack in the wall she’s used to keep me out. Maybe my Shawshank plan is working. Rhyson, Bristol’s brother and my best friend, would appreciate that, movie geek that he is. In Shawshank Redemption, Andy hangs a poster on the wall in his prison cell. At night for years, he secretly chips at that wall until one day, he’s made a hole big enough to crawl through and escape. That’s me. Chipping away at that wall for years, and last night may have been a breakthrough.

Or not.

Because as Bristol walks down the hall of the Prodigy offices, headed straight for me, there’s barely a flicker of recognition in her eyes, much less desire. She nods to me before carefully brushing past to enter the conference room for our meeting.

There are already a few people here, including Bristol’s assistant Sarah. They chat as Bristol sets her iPad and