19. Sutton

19

SUTTON

The sound of my sniffling as I try to stop the tears from streaming down my face is the only noise in the car. I hate the way I’m reacting to this, but I can’t seem to help myself.

Gray seems stone cold, quiet, but I note that his knuckles are bleeding as I see him grip the steering wheel.

I get myself under control just as we pull through the manor’s gate. “You’re bleeding,”

Gray glances at me, his green eyes widening as he looks down at his knuckles.

“I guess I am.” His voice is shaking slightly, probably from the adrenaline.

When we park, he comes to open my door and tries to scoop me up.

I put my hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes. “Gray. I’m okay. Really.”

His shoulders slump, and his face finally starts to show emotion—exhaustion, fear, worry.

He stands up straight, rubbing one hand over his face, and then the emotions are gone. His face is blank.

I would say I envy the way that he can do that, but honestly, I guess all mothers have to learn it. There are times when I’ve been so upset and frustrated I can barely think, but I have to put on a brave face for Ciara.

I take Gray’s hand, leading him into the house.

It’s almost eerily quiet in the Burke mansion since it’s the wee hours of the morning. We go upstairs hand in hand, and Gray gets ahead of me, pulling me into his room.

I don’t complain. After the way he saved me tonight, I’ll follow him anywhere.

Really, I always would have. I’ve always been madly in love with Gray, since the moment we met, but circumstances keep us apart. It has nothing to do with lack of love, for either of us.

“I could go downstairs and make you some tea,” he offers, but I shake my head.

“Sit down. Let me help you.”

It’s easier to take on the caretaker role than to give in to the swirling emotions in my head.

Gray wordlessly sits down at the end of the bed, and I look around for the first time.

Just like his name, his room is decorated in shades of gray. There’s a charcoal comforter covering the made bed, and the curtains are a pale gray. I wonder if it was decorated this way on purpose, maybe when he was younger.

I hurry to the bathroom, finding a first aid kit under the sink, and I bring it back into the bedroom to see Gray just staring at me.

“You don’t have to do this. I can take care of?—”

“Sometimes you need taking care of, too.”

He doesn’t respond, and I wonder if he’s in shock. I wonder if we both are. But Gray deals with these kinds of situations a lot more than I do.

I pull out the antiseptic and put some on a pad of gauze, patting the wounds on his knuckles gently.

Gray doesn’t so much as hiss, just looking at me with something like adoration on his face.

I pat the antiseptic on a cut above his eyebrow and this time, he does hiss, even if quietly. The guy must have gotten him a couple of times in the face.

My heart swells with love for him, knowing that he’d gone through all this just to protect me. To save me. He’s different than he was five years ago. He’s calmer, for one thing, but he’s also just… more burdened.

I want to help him with that. I want him to let me take some of it.

I grab bandages from the kit, wrapping them slowly around his knuckles. One hand, then the other. I rub my thumb across the top of his hand in circles as I work.

“How about your ribs? Did he break any of them?” I ask, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his broad shoulders.

Gray shakes his head briefly, his eyes still locked on mine.

There are no bruises on his chest or stomach, so I put away the bandages back in the bathroom, and when I return, Gray is staring into space.

My mind has gone blissfully blank, and when Gray grabs me around the waist to bring me closer, I don’t even think about pulling away. I don’t think about anything but how safe I feel in his arms.

“Are you okay?”

He shakes his head. “I thought I might lose you,” he murmurs, his words rumbling in his chest as he looks up at me, searching my face. “I thought I was going to lose you. Again.”

“I don’t ever want you to lose me again,” I admit, the words coming out with no alarm in the back of my head for once.

I straddle his lap, pressing my forehead to his, and Gray makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat, his arms going around me, his hands rubbing up my back.

“It almost killed me to lose you the first time,” he admits, rubbing his nose against mine.

“It killed me to leave you.”

I’m saying too much. I’m doing too much.

Gray and I can’t be together, not now, not with everything going on. But I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.

I press my lips against his, sliding my tongue between his parted lips as he groans into my mouth, his hands going to my hips.

The kiss turns hungry right away, but not like it was at the tavern the other night. This is passionate rather than feral, loving instead of lustful.

Gray bunches my dress around my hips, rocking his erection against my core, and I gasp into his mouth.

I roll my hips against him, and he grunts, flipping me over.

He hooks his thumbs into the side of my panties, pulling them off me and discarding them on the floor.

He touches me everywhere, his fingers sliding up my thighs, cupping my breasts, his eyes roving over my body only to land on my face.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. I can see it in his eyes.

I hope he can see it mirrored in mine.

Gray unbuttons his slacks, taking them off along with his underwear and stepping out of them.

It’s been five years since I’ve seen him fully nude, and I gasp, leaning up and tracing a long, jagged scar on his hip. “What’s this?”

“Knife fight,” he mumbles, clearly not interested in talking about his new scars.

If we were together, I’d trace every one with the tips of my fingers. I’d want to know where each of them came from, want to heal them with my touch, my mouth.

But this, right now, this little bubble of time is all we get.

So, I don’t push, just tug my dress over my head and lay back on the bed, spreading my thighs.

He covers my body with his own, his erection pressing up against my hip.

I should be nervous or self-conscious, having him look at my nude body. I know how much it’s changed in five years, especially given my pregnancy. I’ve gained weight, but Gray doesn’t seem to care.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says hoarsely, and it’s a call back to him saying something similar the night we were together at the tavern.

I drag my manicured nails down his back, and Gray shudders, his hips jutting forward as if involuntarily.

He kisses down my throat, between my breasts, his mouth attaching to one of my nipples and then the other until I’m squirming on the bed, heat settling between my thighs.

Gray takes himself in hand, guiding into me, and he slowly buries himself until I choke out a moan.

His eyes flicker to my face.

“I’m okay,” I say shakily. “Just feels so good, Gray.”

“Sutton,” he whispers, and my name on his lips makes me moan quietly in the back of my throat. “ A ghrá mo chroí .”

Warmth spreads through me, settling in my heart, and my nether regions.

I love him so much it makes tears burn at the backs of my eyes, but if I say it, that just makes things difficult. It seems cruel that we can love each other so much but not be able to be together.

Gray starts to move inside me, dragging against my sweet spot with every thrust. When he grunts, lifting off me slightly and putting his thumb against my clit, I rocket close to the edge.

Gray gives me a little grin, a hint of the wicked smile he’d had five years ago.

“Come for me, a ghrá ,” he murmurs. “Come all over me.”

His words send me spiraling into an orgasm, and I press my nails into his shoulders while Gray speeds up the pace, panting.

My orgasm washes over me slowly, so it feels like I’m coming over and over.

“That’s my girl.” He thrusts into me deeply, burying his face against my neck as he spills inside me.

My body relaxes as he collapses on top of me, my heart rate slowly going down.

Gray props himself up on his elbows, caressing my face with his fingers.

I turn my face into his hand.

In a different context, I’d pull away now, like I had in the tavern, but I know that Gray needs to know I’m okay, that I’m here.

“You were so strong,” he says, his voice breaking. “You did exactly what you were supposed to.”

“I didn't get any information.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says fiercely. “I should have been watching closer.”

“It’s not your fault, Gray. They would have found me anywhere.”

“I should have been watching closer,” he repeats.

Guilt is etched on his face, and I cup his cheek in my hand.

“It’s not your fault,” I repeat, looking into his eyes. I know he needs to hear it, even if he doesn’t believe it.

Gray lets out a shuddering breath. “I should have killed him.”

I shake my head. “Your men picked him up. We’ll get the information we need.”

“I’m sorry.” He brushes his nose against mine again.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” I tilt my face to kiss him, softly, and he murmurs something against my mouth. I huff out a breath. “Seriously, Gray. I’m okay. You saved me. I should be saying thank you.”

“You never have to thank me for protecting you. I’ll always protect you and Ciara.”

“I know that.” I smile at him. “You wouldn’t let anything happen to us.”

“Never.”

He’s looking at me intently, his face earnest as if he thinks I won’t believe him, and my heart aches.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have pulled away from him when he grabbed me, but he had a gun and?—”

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

I wonder if it hurts him to hear about it.

“I think I want to,” I whisper, tears springing to my eyes. “I thought he would take me away from you. Away from Ciara.”

“I’ll never let anyone take you away from me or our daughter.”

“I was just so scared I’d never see her again.”

Gray nods.

I get comfortable in the bed, and he sits on the edge of it, his shoulders stiff.

“Gray?”

“If you want to take her and go, I understand.” His voice is quiet, shaky.

I frown. “Of course not.”

“I know why you left me,” he says flatly, as if I hadn’t responded at all. “I understand it now. Now that I’ve met Ciara, I'd do anything to protect her. But I can’t protect her. I can’t protect you. I failed.”

I sit up, putting my hand on Gray’s back to get him to turn and look at me. “You didn’t fail, Gray. You did protect me and Ciara. She was here, safe. You were with me so that no one could take me.”

I remember the day I gave birth to Ciara, the love and protectiveness I felt for her was so overwhelming I started to sob as soon as I held her.

Having a child is like having a piece of your heart walk around without you, and I haven’t thought about how overwhelming it might be for Gray until now.

“Everything’s fucked up.” He runs a hand through his hair, sighing out a breath. “Da’s hurt and I’m running things. I’ve been trained for this my whole life, but it's like as soon as it happened, everything went out of my head.”

I rub his back comfortingly. “But you’re doing great, Gray. Everything’s going to be all right.”

His breath hitches in his chest.

I move to sit behind him, wrapping my arms around him and resting my cheek against his back.

Gray puts his hand over mine on his stomach, leaning back against me.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says quietly. “But I’m also so sorry.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Gray shifts to lie down, and I reluctantly disentangle from him.

“You should get some rest,” he says, kissing the crown of my head as I snuggle up next to him.

I put my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

It lulls me to sleep almost immediately.

I wake up with a start, thinking of our last conversation and how I wanted to comfort him more, but the bed is empty.

Last night was awful in so many ways, but Gray opening up to me makes my heart ache.

He’s always been so controlled, even when he was a little wild, especially when it came to negative emotions.

I lay in bed, turning to look up at the ceiling.

I meant what I told Gray. I don’t want to be anywhere else. I know now that he can protect me better than anyone else could.

He saved me last night. He kept me from a fate probably worse than death, and I’m so grateful.

I just hope he knows how much I trust him, even if I’m scared to death.