Page 21 of Morally Grey

“I know the job is still a week out and we’re supposed to focus, but I’m struggling with that,” I say. “Can we talk about this?”

“What? The job? Yeah, of course.”

“No, Grey. Not the job.” I grip the seat of his chair and spin him away from the laptop so that he’s forced to look at me. “I’m sorry I essentially forced you to talk about what happened, but that was weeks ago. Will you ever let it go?”

His dark eyebrows pull together, and he looks more confused than I feel. “Let it go? I’m not holding on to anything.”

I take his hand and place it on my breast, and he pulls away as if I’ve held his palm against a blazing stovetop.

“See!” I shout. “My tits weren’t so undesirable to you before. Now we walk around and pretend we don’t have the hots for each other when we very clearly do. What gives?”

“I don’t want to...” He stops and shakes his head. “Is that what you want? What youreallywant? You want the man, the complete idiot who signed for a loan and failed to keep his house...That’s the man you want inside you? The failure?”

I nod my head. “In a nutshell, yes. Why is this so hard for you to understand?”

“It’s not hard for me to understand, but we can’t be anything. Haven’t you thought about that? About what happens when we get the money and go our separate ways?”

“No, not really. I’m more of a here-and-now kind of girl. I don’t really think too far ahead. That’s how I’ve ended up with mountains of debt, an impending foreclosure, and a dead ex-boyfriend in the woods. Foresight ain’t my strong suit, dude.”

“Then think about it now,” he says. “I don’t want to hurt you, Briar, and that’s what I’ll do if I leave you after I get the money. And I can’t stay.”

He’s right. I really haven’t thought about any of that. Rationally, I know his plan has always been to get out of here, but I’ve never really thought about what that looks like for me, the woman who’s plan has always been to dig in and stay put.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s going to hurt like hell when you leave. I like you, and I’m not afraid to admit it.” I stand and grip the hem of my shirt, then remove it. “It’s a pain I’m willing to endure for a moment of pleasure, though.” I grip my pants and lower them. “What about you, Grey? Is the pleasure worth the pain it causes you?”

He bites his bottom lip and groans as I drop into my chair, spread my legs, and rub my clit through my panties.

“Touch me,” I whisper. “Make me feel good before you hurt me. If you have to leave, then give me something to remember you by.”

“Psycho,” he whispers.

He wants me. I know he does.Heknows he does. But something keeps him from admitting it. If it’s his wife, we all have a skeleton. Mine just lives in the backyard.

Then I remember the mask. It helped him before, so maybe it can help him again. I hurry to the bedroom and grab it, then return to the kitchen. Realizing what I hold, he walks over and snatches the fabric from my hand, then puts it on. He takes off his shirt and boxes me in with his strong arms. The tattoos stare back at me. Delinquent. Foreclosure. Everything I’ve felt so intimately myself. It’s as if they’re etched into my own skin.

“No matter how much I want to, you can’t convince me to stay. I’ve been fighting this every day. Being around you is torture, and I don’t want to be weak.” He turns me around and pulls me against his body until his erection grinds against my ass. “But fuck if you don’t make me weak.”

I look back and smirk at him. “Would a weak person commit homicide?”

“Maybe.” He lifts a hand to my face and raises my chin before his fingers trail down my neck. He squeezes my throat. “I could kill you right now, little psycho.”

“But you won’t.”

His pants fall to the floor, and he rips my panties down my thighs. He bends me over the table as his warm, silky cock brushes against my wet slit. He draws back his hips, then pushes inside me on my next inward breath. Fuck, he feels so big from this angle.

“Grey,” I moan.

The table scoots forward as he pounds into me. Once the wooden edge hits the wall and can’t move forward anymore, he puts all that strength through me instead. Every collision of his hips drives me into the table’s edge.

Grey is a kind, broken man, but when he puts on that mask, he’s someone else entirely. Someone capable of the ultimate sin. That’s all I can think about as he reaches around and squeezes my throat.

My brain goes to weird places, like him actually killing me. Keeping me as some weird sex doll he can selfishly use whenever he wants. I want him to bethatobsessed with me. As obsessed as I am with him. I would keep his body around too. Not for sex, but to talk about my day with and share stories with until he rots away in my bed.

He’s bad for me. I’m bad for him. And I know damn well that we can’t stay together after this.

“Come back to me, little psycho,” he says. “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.”

He wraps his arm around my chest and pulls me upright. With one swipe of his powerful arm, he moves the table out of the way and walks me against the wall. I spin in his hold, and his hands lift my thighs and wrap them around his waist. He pulls me out of my mental gymnastics as he pushes himself into me and forces me to look into his beautiful eyes as he rails me.

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