Maya Banks - Sweet Surrender

“Let’s go inside to talk,” she said.

He rose and held out his hand to help her up. Her hair, tousled by her nap, blew in the breeze, and he reached out to snag a tendril, unable to resist touching the silky tresses.

She turned and walked inside, leaving him to follow. He watched the gentle sway of her hips, and he imagined himself between her thighs, his hands curled around those hips as he thrust into her.

His throat tightened, and he swallowed against the uncomfortable sensation.

When she entered the house, she turned and looked over her shoulder at him. “You coming?”

He moved forward, the knot growing a little larger in his stomach at the thought of what he was about to embark on. He was continuing, not ending, his chain of deception, and he was looking to start a relationship steeped in those lies.

The cooler interior air brushed over his face as he stepped inside. Faith padded barefoot into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“You want something to drink?” she asked. “There’s beer, wine and some juice.”

He shook his head then said, “No, I’m fine.”

She poured herself a glass of juice then walked back into the living room where he stood. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

He observed the slight tremble of her lips, something she tried to disguise by raising the glass to her mouth. She was nervous. Hell, so was he, but he didn’t want her to feel uneasy with him.

He reached out and cupped his hand under her elbow. “Let’s sit down.”

She gazed at him with troubled eyes as if fearing what he’d say. Unable to help it, he leaned in, cupped the back of her neck with his hand and pulled her to him. Her glass pressed into his stomach, mashed between them as he captured her lips with his.

He swallowed the whispery sound of surprised pleasure that escaped her mouth. He tasted the tangy orange on her tongue, absorbed her flavor and savored it with every swipe of his tongue over hers.

When he pulled away, her unfocused gaze met his, confusion outlined in the depths of her eyes. Her mouth, now puffy from his kiss, tempted him again. Later, he told himself. He’d sample every inch of her skin.

He nudged her backward until her legs met the edge of the couch. Then he sat her down. Opting to stand, he moved a few steps back and began pacing, unable to control the anxious energy flowing through him.

“I made a mistake in pushing you away,” he said.

Her green eyes widened. She set her glass on the end table then folded her hands in her lap, clutching at her fingers until the tips were white.

He stopped pacing and looked directly at her. “I want what you want, Faith. You, in my bed, in my arms, my way.”

Color surged into her cheeks as she reacted to his blunt statement.

He moved toward her, kneeling in front of her. He gathered her hands in his and raised her fingers to his lips. “I’m not easy, Faith. I’ll push you. I’ll demand things of you that you may not be sure you can give. If we do this, you’ll give everything to me. In return, I’ll cherish your gift. I’ll see to your every need. I’ll take care of you.”

A slow blaze began to burn in her eyes as she studied him. “You want this?” she asked huskily. “You want me? This isn’t some game? Some role you think I want you to play?”

He cupped her chin in his hand and stared into her eyes. “No games. You’re off for a week. As it turns out, so am I. This is the perfect opportunity for us to explore this relationship.”

Her chin trembled in his hand. He rubbed his thumb over her velvety lips before he stood and began pacing again.

“There are some things you need to understand, Faith. If we do this, I will be in complete and utter control. There are no safe words, no playacting, no ‘lifestyle’ books to read. That’s all bullshit. I’ve never lived by anyone else’s rules and certainly not a bunch of rabid lifestylers all spewing what people do or don’t do according to their list of guidelines.

“If that’s what you’re expecting, then you need to walk now. You can forget about anything you’ve read or experienced, because what I will demand from you bears no resemblance to what a bunch of role players screwing around with sex games would.”

He paused to let his words sink in. Then he walked forward again, kneeling once more in front of her. He threaded his hand into her hair, twining the strands around his fingers as he caressed her scalp.

“You’ll be mine. Mine. You’ll give your everything to me, and in return, I’ll give you more than you can ever imagine. I’ll take care of you, pleasure you, provide for you.”

“Wow,” she said after a shaky breath.

“Is that a yes?” he asked as he stroked through her hair.

Slowly she slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. Her fingers curled at his nape, and she dug her fingers into his hair. “Yes,” she whispered.

He carefully extricated his hands from her hair then touched her face with his fingers. They fanned lightly over her cheeks, and he pressed his lips to hers.

When he pulled away, they were both breathing heavily, though the kiss had been tender. He slid his fingers over her shoulders and down her arms, enjoying the sensation of her skin on his.

“Let’s drive into Galveston. Go someplace nice to eat. When we come back, we can start all over again.”

She rubbed her hand over her mouth nervously and nodded. “Okay,” she said huskily.

Faith took a shower and hurriedly dressed. Her stomach was a mess, and she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to eat a thing. She dried her long hair then brushed it and let it hang loose over her shoulders. She knew Gray liked it that way.

Mine.

His declaration still echoed in her mind and sent sparks to her girly parts every time she pictured the possessive look on his face when he’d said it.

Deciding on a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved pink top, she dressed and searched out a pair of heels. She gave herself one last once-over in the mirror, and then she walked into the living room where Gray waited.

He was standing by the French doors, thumbs hooked into his pockets. His blue eyes sparked in appreciation as he let his gaze drift over her.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

She smiled. “I’m ready if you are.”

He dug his keys out of his pocket then walked toward the door. When he got to her, he held out his hand. She slid her small hand into his much larger one, and his fingers curled tight around it.

Together, they walked out to his truck, and as he’d done the night at The House, he settled her into the passenger seat. During the drive into Galveston, they were silent, but Gray tucked her hand into his and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.

She took comfort in the intimate gesture. It made her less nervous. Like this was a date like any other. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she nearly laughed. This was nothing like any other date. This was what she’d been looking for, waiting for, wanting. Not much pressure there.

“Seafood sound good?” he asked, breaking the silence.

She nodded.

He slowed and made a left then eased into a parking spot. Then he squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes. She smiled shyly at the approval she saw reflected in his gaze. He leaned across the seat and kissed her, warm, soft, nonaggressive. Then he drew away and stepped out of the truck.

When they walked in, Gray spoke quietly to the hostess, who gave him a quick smile and nodded. She glanced past him to Faith and smiled again. Then she collected two menus and motioned them to follow her.

“What did you tell her?” Faith whispered as they walked behind the hostess.

“Just that we wanted some privacy.”

And sure enough, the hostess sat them in a corner booth toward the back of the restaurant. The closest people were at least six tables away.

As they sat, a waiter appeared to take their drink order. A few seconds later, they were finally alone.

Gray reached across the table and twined his fingers with hers. “We’ve…well, I’ve spent too much time avoiding you. Things have been crazy between us, moved way too fast. I want to slow things down just for tonight so we can learn more about each other.”

A contented glow warmed her chest. “I’d like that,” she said softly. “I don’t know much about you. Just what Pop’s told me. You’re a cop. You live in Dallas. You lost your partner earlier this year, and you’re taking a break to sort things out. I’d like to know more.”

He looked a little chagrined, as if he’d been expecting her to volunteer information on herself first.

“When was your last relationship?” she asked.

His mouth turned down into a frown. “Relationship? I’m not sure I’d call my encounters with the opposite sex relationships.”

She arched one brow. “What would you call them then?”

“Sex,” he said bluntly.

“And is that what I am to you? Just sex?” she asked softly.

He stared at her for a long moment. “No. And that’s what scared the shit out of me. Why I put you at a distance and tried like hell to stay away from you.”

“Why do guys freak out so much over the idea of a woman being more than sex?” she asked curiously. “It’s become positively cliché. Did your mother never hug you or something?”

His eyes widened in surprise, and then he laughed. “No, I can’t blame my mother for my issues with relationships. I didn’t know her well enough for her to turn me off or on to the female populace.”

She waited for him to go on, not sure what part of that statement she wanted to tackle first.