Page 9

H onor closed the back door of her van, her supplies packed away inside. With her hand lingering on the warm metal, she let out a deep breath.

This was it. The workshop was completed—and a success, in her opinion. It was time to go.

Only she wasn’t ready. She had some unfinished business.

She turned to Willow, who leaned against the porch railing a few steps away. “I’d like to say goodbye to him.”

“Figured.” Willow offered her a knowing smile.

Honor crossed the short distance to the sprawling ranch home. “Where can I find him?”

“He’s probably in his room writing.”

Honor stopped in her tracks. “Writing?”

“Gray is working on a book.”

She blinked. “That’s amazing. My sister would be excited to hear that.”

Willow waved a hand for her to enter the house. “I just found out a few months ago what keeps him in his room so much. He must have a ton of words in by now. He’s been working on it for months. Not that he’ll ever let me read it.”

Honor entered the Malones’ home, taking in the comfortable, rugged but chic décor.

“You’ll find him at the end of the hall, room on the right.”

She offered her new friend a smile. “Thank you.”

The walk down the corridor was a trip through the family archives. A gallery of family photos mixed with the occasional piece of framed art or even a funny picture or two of a beloved pet told the story of the Malone family in ways Honor was grateful to be privy to.

When she reached the door, she hesitated a beat. Deep in the warm brown wood was an awkward G , as if he carved it there as a boy.

The man she couldn’t get out of her head was behind that door. He probably wouldn’t be happy about the interruption, yet…

She knocked twice. Softly.

There was a long pause. Then the door cracked open, and Gray’s stormy eyes landed on her. Surprise burned in the depths, but not annoyance.

She gave him a small smile. “Hey.”

“Hey there.” He inched back. A silent invitation.

She stepped into the space. It was functional, simple. Masculine. A large, unmade bed was stacked with pillows of several sizes as if he liked variety. Along one wall, a sleek metal and glass desk had an open laptop. Next to that rested a simple duffel bag.

“Is that your go-bag?”

He jerked his head to pierce her in his gaze. “What do you know about that?”

She shrugged. “My sister does own a bookstore. I read.”

He grunted and cut his fingers through his dark hair. He’d removed his cowboy hat and it hung on a wall hook beside the door.

Wordlessly, he watched her soak in his surroundings.

Out of the corner of her eye, she stole a glance at him. “Willow said I should come say goodbye.”

“That’s Willow. Always welcoming.”

She walked around his room, trying to avoid noticing the king-sized bed. After the kisses they shared last night, she wasn’t sure she could trust herself not to throw herself at the man.

“You really think the vets enjoyed the class?”

That question got him talking. “I do,” he said swiftly. “I’ve been to a lot of different classes with them. They aren’t so receptive to all of them.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” She gave him a soft smile. What was it about Gray that drew her in? She wanted to know everything about him, from what side of the bed he slept on to whether or not he ever put those sugar packets she’d thrust at him into his coffee that day.

She reached his desk, walking the length and trailing her finger along the scarred wood. She stopped at his laptop. She wasn’t being nosy—not exactly. But it wasn’t possible to ignore the screen.

Or the fact that it wasn’t a document filled with words.

It was a spreadsheet filled with names and photographs.

“What’s this?”

He didn’t immediately respond. He stood frozen a few feet away.

Rows and rows of names with photos attached, each one staring back at her.

All of them military.

“Gray.” She turned to him, aware of how his whole body locked up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

He cut her off. “It’s not a book.” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his tanned throat.

She searched his gaze, even stormier after his declaration. “What is it?”

“It’s a list.”

Her heart thudded. Waiting for him to share or throw her out—of his room, his house, his life.

“It’s a list of 5003 names.”

She took a step closer to him, needing to offer comfort even though she didn’t know why. Needing to touch him.

A breath trickled out of him. “They’re my fallen brothers and sisters.”

Her jaw dropped. “All of them?”

He nodded. Then she saw it—the raw grief. The devastation creasing his face.

Reaching out, she settled her hand on his chest the same way she’d done the night before after their kiss. Only this time she was offering him something much different—comfort. And a listening ear if he wanted it.

He took her hand and drew it off his chest but held it prisoner in his rough grip. When he led her to the bed and sat down, she followed.

Thigh touching hers, Gray began to share his story. It came out in chunks at first, blocky and awkward with pain. How the USS Valor Heights sank in a fiery tragedy. She’d heard about the event, of course. Everybody had. The news had been full of nothing but that for weeks.

Then nothing.

At least to the public. To Gray, who had been in the air at the time and escaped the same fate, it was everything.

He didn’t shed a tear, but his voice was thick as he spoke. She wasn’t seeing a man burying his ghosts in silence.

He was carrying them home.

By writing three emails or handwritten letters a night, he would achieve his goal of sending a personal message to each and every family of the soldiers who perished in that terrible tragedy.

For a long moment, neither of them stirred.

Until she moved.

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face gently against his chest. He tensed—for just a second. Then he let go.

His arms wrapped around her, and he crushed her against him, letting her feel the weight of it all—the responsibility, the loss. The sheer, relentless duty.

It cracked her in two.

She slid her hands up to cup his jaw. Staring into his eyes, she whispered, “You don’t have to do this alone.”

He exhaled roughly against her hair. “I don’t know any other way.”

She tipped her head back, and that was it. In that heartbeat, everything changed. There was no going back.

And Honor was so damn ready.

Her lips brushed over his, softly, testing.

Then Gray made a wrecked sound in the back of his throat and it was game on.

He deepened the kiss. Fast. Hot. Desperate. He buried his hands in her hair and held her in place as he devoured her mouth like he was the last man standing on earth and needed her to stay whole.

He tilted her head, owning her.

He was so damn familiar, like she’d kissed him a thousand times and would kiss him a thousand more.

She gasped against his lips, and he didn’t let go. Taking complete control, he lifted her onto his lap. Straddling him, she kissed him back with every ounce of need that he fed her through his lips, his tongue…his deep , throaty groans.

His rough, strong hands were everywhere—in her hair, cupping her nape, kneading her waist and finally her ass, trapping her pussy against the bulge in the front of his jeans.

With a cry, she rocked into him, once, twice, eager to know every inch of Gray Malone and share every heartache or joy with him in this moment.

He flipped her onto the bed and pinned her with his body. Gazing down into her eyes, his chest heaved on a hard breath. Without a word, he dipped his head to her throat.

She arched, rolling her body into the one that seemed to fit hers so perfectly. His mouth moved along her throat, her jaw, then back up to capture her mouth in a kiss to end all kisses.

Sliding her fingers under the hem of his shirt, she learned the shape of his muscles, the hard planes bearing several scars that felt rougher to her fingertips.

There was no uncertainty, just heat and them.

He tore his mouth away, panting.

“Gray…” Heart hammering, she met his tumultuous stare. “This doesn’t feel new to me. What’s between us.”

“It’s not new,” he gritted out. “It’s inevitable.”

She exhaled against his mouth, a small sigh of surrender.

* * * * *

The contrast between Honor’s soft curves and Gray’s body never seemed as sharp. Where he was unyielding, she gave. Her soft breasts pressed into his hard chest and her plush hips cradled his firm ones.

When he pulled back from another kiss that swallowed every thought in his head, he searched her eyes once more. He could do this forever—take them both to the brink and then back off to let it build anew.

Her skin glowed, and her eyes blazed with passion. “Gray…”

“Christ, sugar. I want you so damn bad.” As if his cock needed to put in its two cents, it surged against his fly. Precum leaked from the tip and dampened his briefs.

“I want you too.” Her quiet admission was filled with a throaty desire that made him lock his jaw against a victory roar.

Honor wasn’t just any woman. Nor was she a conquest. She was the finest thing he’d ever touched.

Her fingers pattered up his shoulders to cup his jaw. “You don’t have to stop.”

His chest flexed with her words. With another growl, he dipped his head and took her mouth again. The tender brush of his lips didn’t hold out—he needed more. He took the caress deeper in a flash, sinking his tongue between her lips.

She met his tongue stroke for stroke even as she hooked her ankles behind his back and rocked into his stiff cock. He was almost glad she wasn’t wearing one of those floaty dresses today and he couldn’t just whip it up and take her. A woman like Honor deserved to be stripped slowly, thoroughly and lovingly.

A tremor tore through him. “I need to see you.” He performed a pushup and shoved onto his knees. Her face on his pillow was an image he would revisit over and over again after this was all over. And it would be—too soon.

Forcing his hands to gentle, he drew her top up the slope of her torso to her breasts in a nude-colored lace bra. Every inch of skin he exposed, every freckle he saw made him throb to have this woman in every damn way possible.

As he pulled her shirt up and off, she seemed to hold her breath. When he raked his gaze over her creamy skin, he had to steel his muscles to hold back.

Slow down. She deserves to be shown how desirable she is.

He traced a finger across her collarbone and down to the gentle swell of her breast. A tiny sunshine tattoo in simple black ink didn’t shock him, but it did make him smile.

He started to lower his mouth to it, to taste the lines with his tongue, but she caught him by the jaw and stopped him.

“What’s that little smile for?”

“This.” He touched a fingertip to the art. Small squiggly rays of light projected from the round center.

“Oh.” Her fingers brushed along his stubbled jaw as he lowered his head to her breast. “Ohh.” She let out a puff of air as he swirled his tongue across the spot and continued to burrow lower, into the cup of her bra, following the curve of her breast.

When he reached underneath her and popped the clasp in one go, she wiggled to free herself from the cloth. He whipped the lace off her so fast that the bed jostled.

And so did her natural, bare breasts.

“Fuck!” He trapped her nipple between his lips and gave a soft, sucking pull that made her arch and writhe. In a short time of worshipping one rosy nipple, then the next, he realized he wasn’t in control. At all.

He was the opposite of in control.

He was on fire.

With a low rumble, he suckled her and lapped her nipples into straining buds. The rake of her short nails on his nape fueled that fire.

When he popped the button of her jeans and edged the zipper down, she stilled. Chest heaving, she met his stare as if what he was about to do next was scrawled on his countenance.

Running the flat of his hand down her lower belly, he dipped his fingers beneath the band of her panties. Blue—of course. Like her eyes.

Some women in his past made it a point to match their undergarments or even wore lingerie under their clothes for him to find. Not Honor—she didn’t plan any of this, and that was the biggest turn-on yet.

He inched his fingers inside her panties, over the short, silky curls on her mound and downward in a quest for her slick heat.

When his fingertips struck gold, she squelched a sharp cry. But he wasn’t having any of that. He wanted her begging, screaming his damn name.

He burrowed two fingers along her slick seam and went still, not moving.

“Oh god! Gray…” she panted. “Please!”

He withdrew his hand and in one hasty move tore off the rest of her clothes. When she was completely exposed to him, he ripped off his own shirt and watched her eyes flare with appreciation.

As she took in his chest and arms that he was pretty proud of, he slipped two fingers over her mound, pausing at her clit to stroke it, then buried his fingers in her pussy.

She threw her legs wide, rocking into his hand.

“That’s it. Take my fingers, sugar. My fingers feel good, don’t they?”

“Oh. My. God. Yes!” She twisted her fists in the covers as he withdrew his fingers and plunged them inside her again.

Watching the bliss ripple across her face, he curled his fingers into her G-spot.

Juices soaked his fingers, and she bit off a louder cry.

With a few more deep thrusts of his fingers, he took her from writhing to shaking. Then he pressed his thumb down on her clit, lightly at first, but when she responded by jerking her hips, he ground the pad into it.

Her orgasm came fast and untamed. She held nothing back as she shook apart for him. When one hand floundered in the air as if seeking a place to land, he captured it.

Linked their fingers.

Her eyes popped open and met his. His heart gave a hard jog in his chest and he pumped his fingers against her G-spot a few more times before pulling them free.

Holding her stare, he drew his cum-wet fingers to his lips and sucked.

“Oh god!” She didn’t lie there and wait for his next move. The woman erupted into a sitting position, wrapped her arms around him and yanked him on top of her.

Their mouths collided in a deep kiss hotter than the sun tattooed on her breast. She clawed at his jeans, shoved them down his hips.

When she reached into his briefs, giving him the same treatment he had her, he thought he might have finally met his match in the bedroom.

She curled her fingers around the base of his cock. “So thick.” She pumped it once and then drew his length free of the fabric.

Her stare washed over his body in appreciation, and her tongue darted across her full, swollen, delicious bottom lip.

A low vibration in his chest washed up his throat and burst out as he kissed this woman like it was their last day on earth. Desperation made his hands shake as he reached out and fumbled open the nightstand drawer. He had never needed the brand-new box of condoms, but he wasn’t a guy who didn’t come prepared.

He snagged one out of the box and rolled off her. Lying flat on his back next to Honor lasted all of one heartbeat before she threw her leg over him, straddling him.

His concentration broke and his hand quit working as he stared up at the goddess seated on top of him, her body glorious. Her exquisite scent wrapping around him.

“Let me.” She took the condom from his useless fingers. Just the touch of her hand on him damn near stripped away the last of his control, but he managed to cling to the idea of sinking into her scorching heat.

Once the rubber was situated, he gripped Honor by the hips. She pushed onto her knees, giving him access to her splayed thighs.

When he angled his cock toward her soaking center, she took over by sliding down him.

Slow inch by slow inch, she took his cock right to the base.

She fell still, eyes burning into his. Then she tossed her head back and moaned. The long strands of her hair tickled the backs of his knuckles where he gripped her hips.

Then she began to ride him.

“You’re…so…big.” She rolled her hips in a withdrawing motion before dropping down his length again.

Balls-deep.

He gritted his teeth. The need to blow hovered far too close for his peace of mind. The urge to bellow like a wild beast might startle her out of the moment, so he held back.

“You’re tight . Hot. Soaked for me.”

She issued a noise at the back of her throat that undid him.

Gray grabbed her and tumbled her onto the mattress even as he claimed her mouth for his own. She looped her arms around his shoulders, anchoring him to her as he churned his hips and ground his cock deep.

The dark need simmering in his core exploded in a shower of ecstasy. He yanked her into his every thrust and ravished her mouth, her neck, her breasts as he drove them both to the finale.

“Gray!”

Her name simmered on his lips, but he couldn’t utter a sound, too lost in the small flutters of her inner walls around his cock.

He sank deeper, and she came on a sharp cry, taking him over the edge with her.

Blinding pleasure stole his every coherent thought until the final spurt shot out of him. When he collapsed, he rolled to the side, giving her space to breathe as they recovered.

Her breaths came in shallow pants, then changed to something deeper and more rhythmic. Cracking an eye, he found her only inches away, a soft smile playing around the corners of her beautiful mouth.

“You’re gorgeous, but you’re even more beautiful like this.” He ran a finger between her breasts.

Her skin broke out in goose bumps. Tenderness washed through him.

She buried her face against his chest, and he held her. Long seconds passed with no desire to get up, to get back to work on those emails waiting for him.

The house was silent. Everyone was probably outside performing ranch chores at this time of day or involved in security business. They all pitched in to make the place run smoothly.

After a few peaceful minutes, Honor raised her head. “I should probably get back to my sister’s. She’ll be waiting for me.”

He didn’t want to let her go just yet, and that was damn unusual for him. But he released her and swung his legs off the bed, searching for their discarded clothes.

Honor dressed with a quick ease like she did everything else. The woman was a wonder to someone like him—taking everything that came her way with a natural calm that he ached to harness.

When he picked up his jeans, the bracelet he made slipped onto the floor.

He scooped it up and enfolded it in his hand as he continued to dress.

From the foot of his bed, she threw him a shy look.

He sauntered up. His gaze traveled over her. “You have just-had-sex hair.”

“No biggie. I’ll just tell my sister I had the van window down.”

He loved how she rolled through life without a care. His mouth twitched into a smile.

Feeling the need to continue this connection, he held out his hand, palm up, the bracelet in the center.

Honor stared down at it.

“I want you to have it.”

She tipped her head, a soft expression in her eyes. If the ice block of a heart the former Navy pilot who’d seen traumatic shit could melt, Honor’s look would make it happen.

She took the bracelet and slipped it over her hand, positioning it next to the others she wore. “Gray…this is so sweet of you.”

He slid his fingers through her hair, holding her in place. “I’d like this to be a regular thing.”

She blinked. “The sex?”

He chuckled. “That would be nice too, but I meant the art therapy for the guys.”

She beamed. “I love that idea. Both of them, actually.” She bit down on her lip to fight back her wide smile.

His lips tipped in a crooked smile, and their stares connected for a throbbing beat.

When she tore her gaze away, she threw a glance at his laptop. “I’ve interrupted you enough.”

He cut his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with all the sharing and emotional stuff.”

“Gray. Everyone has baggage. Yours is just a little bigger than most.”

He shuffled his feet, uncomfortable with the focus being on him. “What about you? What’s your baggage?”

She shrugged, sending her sexy hair into motion. “I guess you could say my recent breakup.” Suddenly, her eyes widened. “But I need you to know you’re not a rebound. I wasn’t lying when I told Willow that my ex and I had been growing apart a long time.”

Her words brought the moment at the post office to mind. He had questions about this ex of hers. Like why he might be in town.

And why that made her afraid. Something wasn’t right. That familiar prickle at the base of his neck was never wrong.

“I should go. Felicity is going to be waiting.”

“I’ll walk you out.” With a hand on her lower spine, he guided her out of the house and crossed the short span of driveway to her van.

He wasn’t the kind of man to linger after sex.

He may not be well-versed in handling women he wanted to see again…but being her protector? That came as naturally as breathing.