The Friend Zone (Game On, #2)(70)

When the sun came up, Gray hunted down the leftover pain aux raisins, which he declared the best thing he’d ever had in his mouth. Well, aside from my “sweet-as-f*ck *.” And I had to give him points for being both complimentary and crude.

Standing above me now, Gray catches my smile and grins back. Everything we’ve done—every dirty, sweet, raunchy thing—passes between us like a shared secret. Heat swells within me, but I don’t move.

Finished with his task, he scrambles under the covers and pulls me close. His skin is cool, and I wrap myself around his big body to warm him. Gray exhales in a sigh before slowly peppering my face with soft kisses. “Call me crazy,” he says as he kisses along my cheek, “but ever since I was a kid and saw A Christmas Carol, I’ve wanted to sleep in an enclosed canopy.”

I run my hands over his shoulder. Warm satin and carved granite. I love touching him. “Hmmm. This feels more like we’re in one of those old-fashioned canvas tents.”

He glances at the white sheets surrounding us. With the sunlight filling the room, the enclosed little space glows golden. But it is cozy and quiet, and ours. I burrow closer to Gray, touch his jaw, the plump curve of his lower lip. He nips my fingers. “Yeah, it really needs dark sheets for the full Victorian effect.”

“That’s okay, I’ve always had an Out of Africa safari fantasy.” Smiling, I run my fingers along his temple. “You can be my Robert Redford and wash my hair later.”

“Isn’t he a little old for you, Mac?” He wrinkles his nose is mock horror.

“Sexy doesn’t have an expiration date, Cupcake.”

“Well, at least I know you’re into blond dudes.” Gray hunkers down further into the pillows. Against our nest of white sheets his skin is like amber honey, his eyes lapis blue. He’s so freaking gorgeous, he takes my breath.

“I’m into you,” I say.

As if he’s equally mesmerized, he traces along my face, his long fingers deft and gentle. “I meant what I said before, Ivy. I’m so f*cking crazy about you, I…” His teeth sink into his full lower lip. “I’ve never felt like this. I don’t want to f*ck it up.”

Worry and possessiveness darken his gaze, as if he wants to grab tight to this moment so it won’t slip away. Tenderness swells in my throat. I lick my lip, now sensitive from his kisses. “I know,” I whisper. “This is big, Gray. But if we’re honest and talk to each other when we’re freaking out, it will be okay.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” The blunt tip of his finger runs along my brow and down to my cheek. “Mac?”

“Yeah?” I can’t stop touching him either. His neck. The hard curve of his shoulder. The vein than runs along his inner arm.

“What’s your fantasy?”

I pause my exploration. “What, you mean as in sexual?”

“Yeah.”

Heat washes over my cheeks. “I’m not… No. I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not? You told me in explicit detail how you wanted to be f*cked.” He grins wide. “Which was insanely hot, by the way.”

I duck my head, pressing it to his shoulder. “That was different. We were on the phone.”

“I wanted to be in that bed with you so damn badly, Mac. I think I bruised my dick jacking off to your voice.”

A shocked laugh escapes me, and I give his chest a kiss. “I wanted you there too.”

Gray hums again, his big hand smoothing over my head before he eases away to catch my gaze. “So what is it, then? What’s your deep, dark, naughty fantasy?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?”

A little furrow grows between Gray’s brows as he studies me. “I want to give you everything. Every experience you ever dreamed of. And things you never knew you wanted.”

Oh. My breath hitches.

“Come on.” He nuzzles my nose with his. “Tell me, honey.”

I close my eyes. “Okay. It’s nothing dramatic or even very creative. I’m seduced by a stranger.”

“‘Seduced’?” Gray kisses me as if he needs a quick taste. “How so?”

God. So embarrassing. I huff out a breath. “I’m reluctant, you know? But he cajoles, talks me into it. Makes me undress when I don’t want to. And…you know,” I trail off with strangled sound. “Fucks me.”

“Kind of kinky in a subtle way.” There’s a smile in Gray’s voice. “I’m impressed, Mac.”

I open my eyes to glare. “It’s not a rape fantasy. I’m not into violence. I don’t get off on stranger danger. In real life, I’d punch a guy in his throat if he—”

“It’s okay, honey.” He cups my cheeks, his expression open, earnest. “I get it. They’re called fantasies for a reason.” The corners of his mouth curl as heat enters his eyes. “I like yours.”

My response is a grumpy grunt. He chuckles, giving me another light kiss.

My embarrassment fades in the face of his care. “What about you? What’s your deep, dark fantasy?”

Gray flinches as though I’ve surprised him. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” I frown. It’s as if he never expected me to bother with his needs. “Why shouldn’t we try yours too?”