Page 9 of Kissing the Grump

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and dash through the downpour and chaotic wind. I yank open the door to the stairwell and hurry inside. Raindrops roll down my nose and chin, and the upper half of my work shirt is soaked through, making it transparent.

I wipe my shoes dry on the mat the best I can before making my way upstairs. A warm shower and possibly even a nap, if it's quiet enough, sound amazing. I didn't get enough sleep last night, or the night before for that matter. That moment when I'd left Forrest’s apartment has been playing in my mind on repeat for two days. There’s no reason I should want him the way I do. He's been rude and moody from day one, but I can't shake the feeling there's more to him. I'd seen it that day.

Breathing a tired sigh, I reach into my pocket for my key and unlock the door. To my surprise it opens a few inches and then catches on something, firmly holding it in place. I glance up through the crack and see the chain draped across. Why wouldParker use the chain-lock? I frown just before I hear the moans of a woman. Gross. I force away the gag creeping up my throat. I have no clue who would sleep with a guy like that, and I have no interest in finding out. I'm grateful he locked the door so I didn't have to walk in on that scene.

I close the door quietly and look across the hall at Forrest's. Now that my training is complete, Gina moved my shifts to afternoons, so I haven't seen him in a few days. I have no idea if I'm welcome in his apartment, but that hadn't stopped me from barging in last time. Not wanting to sit around the hall in soaking wet clothes, and definitely not interested in walking through the rain again, I make my way to his door and knock before I chicken out.

The sound of footsteps approaching on the other side makes my heartbeat kick up several beats. He could turn me away and tell me to get lost. But despite his rough around the edges demeanor, something different lurks beneath the facade. Forrest isn't a bad guy at all. Moody, yes. I wonder what caused him to be that way and if he's always been that grumpy.

His door creaks open and I'm greeted with a puzzled expression on his face.

“You're dripping wet,” Forrest says as he takes a beat too long to check out the part of my shirt he can see straight through. He clears his throat as his eyes meet mine. “What's going on?”

“I got caught in the rain leaving work, and I'm sort of locked out of my apartment.” I give him a hopeful look, and he sighs.

“Your roommate really is a dick.” Forrest opens the door wider and steps aside. “Come in. I'll find you something to wear.”

I'm surprised at the gesture, and don't hesitate to take him up on the invitation. “Actually, would it be okay if I showered? I've been at work all day, and I was going to hop in when I got home, but…” I shrug.

Forrest swallows audibly as he shuts the door. “Sure. It's just through the bedroom.” He points toward a room just off the living area. “Towels are in the cabinet. Use what you like in there.”

I'm not sure where the moody guy is that I'm used to, but I prefer this version of him. I almost feel like I'm getting a glimpse of the real him, maybe something no one else ever sees.

“I appreciate it.” I turn and head toward the bedroom, briefly glancing around the room. The oversized dark wood furniture and earth toned linens are exactly what I pictured when I'd imagined his space. Not that I want to admit how much thought I've put into what his bed might look like.

I don't linger long because my wet clothes are uncomfortable and I can't wait to peel them from my body. I step into the en suite bathroom, noting the decor is simple and matches the color scheme of the bedroom. I have every intention of nosing around more when I have time, but for now I crank on the shower before stripping down.

Not wanting to keep Forrest waiting, and maybe because I want to spend more time getting to know him, I hurry to clean up. I do slow down and take my time when I crack open his bottles of body wash and shampoo. Both smell earthy like him, and I swear I could easily get addicted to the scent.

When I step out of the shower, I grab a fluffy white towel from the cabinet and dry off before tying it around my waist. I'm expecting the clothes he's offered me to be laying on the bed, but when I step back into the bedroom there's nothing there.

I'm a little self-conscious with just a towel on, but I peek out of the door and find Forrest sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees. He’s repeatedly pulling on his beard, something I've noticed must be some sort of habit when he's lost in thought.

My brow furrows. “Everything okay?”

My voice seems to startle him and he quickly lifts his head. His gaze immediately dips to my bare chest, and I feel heat rush across my skin. I hate how easily I blush.

“Everything is fine. I was just thinking.” His voice is rougher than usual, and I'm tempted to ask what’s on his mind.

“Sorry to interrupt. I just didn't see any clothes.”

“Oh, right. I forgot. I'm sure I can find you something.” He stands and heads toward me.

I step aside as he passes me, but his hand accidentally slides right across my dick. The contact is so quick that I don't know if he even notices, but I definitely do. Unfortunately, so do other parts of my anatomy. My dick reacts to the barely there touch. In nothing but a towel, I can't hide fast enough how the brief contact affected me.

When Forrest turns around with folded clothes from his dresser drawer, his gaze immediately drops. I'm tempted to shield myself, but the heat that burns in his eyes and the way his nostrils flare have me frozen in place. His chest rises and falls heavily and he doesn't move. He doesn't even blink. With his attention on my cock, I'm getting harder. I can't help it. Considering he hasn't stopped looking, there's no way he doesn't notice the effect he has on me.

I should be more self-conscious than I am. I've never been practically naked with a man before. I am nervous though, because I have no idea what to expect from him. I don't even know what to expect from myself.

“Fuck,” he finally breathes out, and the raspy word coming from his lips makes me throb harder.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper. I don't know what to say or do, so I stand still as Forrest stares at me until he slowly lifts his eyes back to meet mine.

“Sorry,” he repeats back as he begins taking slow steps toward me. “What are you sorry for?”

I feel my cheeks blaze. “Umm, when you walked by…” I can't make myself finish the sentence. “And now this.”

Forrest’s eyes narrow as he closes the distance. I half expect him to hand me the clothes and send me to the bathroom to change. He doesn't. The clothes are tossed on the bed as he passes it, and he continues to prowl closer, eventually coming so close I'm forced to step backward until my back meets the wall.

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