“Sorry, buddy. You’re not going anywhere in this condition.” He slings my arm around his shoulder and kicks open the Fight Club door. The back of the place is empty, so no one sees my walk of shame. My bear cringes at showing such weakness. Next thing I know I’m in a cool, dark cube of a room-the back office-and Trey is leaning over me. “Here,” he offers me a drink of water. “Just take it easy.”
“Gotta go. Gotta get to Jordy-” At least that’s what I try to say. My voice is too garbled to come out in real words. I clutch his shoulder and he puts his tattooed hand over my scarred one.
“No one’s coming in here,” he assures me, misunderstanding. “No one has to know. I don’t kick a bear when he’s down.”
“Jordy-” I try again, but Trey still doesn’t understand. My grip on his shoulder loosens as I fall backwards, sliding into the dark.
Grizz
JORDY! I have to get to Jordy. My female’s gotta be terrified. I suck in a breath and try to orient myself. The memory of Trey bringing me into Fight Club seeps back as I get up.
True to his word, Trey locked the place up. I sneak out, only pausing on the doorstep when light hits me in the face.
What the-
It’s daytime. Judging by the sun, well past noon. Fuck. That means I was unconscious for over twelve hours. And I still feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck.
I have to get to Jordy and make sure she’s okay. I pray the three stooges got her safely to my place.
Fuck, I pray she was able to come out of that vamp-induced sleep Benny put her in.
I rally my clumsy limbs and trudge to my bike. It takes me a few tries, but once I’m on and balanced, my body remembers itself and I break every speed limit zooming home.
Grizz
THE SECOND I walk into my home, my bear calms.
Jordy’s waiting at the table, dressed for the day in a skirt and button-down shirt that hugs the curve of her breasts. She rises, her face composed.
“Kit.”
“Grizz.” She’s still standing by the chair, looking me over. “You’re all right?”
“I am now.” I open my arms. Emotions scroll over her face-worry, relief, delight-and then she stops thinking and rushes to me. And as soon as her weight hits my body, her scent rushes over me, and I’m home.
I lift her in my arms, squeezing her tight.
I wasn’t rushing home because Jordy might be upset. I was rushing because I needed to see her. I needed to know she was all right.
I need her.
The realization doesn’t rock my world. It spins it right round and settles it firmly on its axis where it belonged.
“I was so worried,” she whispers.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’m here now.”
We hug a long time, and while I’m rock hard and aching against her, I can’t put her down to kiss her. I need her to know how much I need her, and until she does, I can’t let her go.
Finally, she raises her head. Her sweet smile is more potent than a punch. “I cooked for you.”
I let her wriggle out of my arms, gritting my teeth against the new surge of arousal. She takes my hand and tugs me to the chair. The kitchen smells lemony fresh and the counters almost sparkle. She waited for me. She cooked. She cleaned.
“Jordy.” I tug her back and claim her mouth. I feast, all that sweetness dissolving on my tongue like sugar, but when I grab her hips and set her against my erection, she laughs and tuts. “Not now.”
“Yes, now,” I growl.
“No.” She slips away. Damn wriggly fox. I go after her and she races around the table. If it weren’t full of food she made, I’d flip the furniture out of the way, drag her to the ground and claim her. She’s mine. There’s no need to wait any longer.
“You need to eat.”
“I will eat. You.”
Smiling and blushing, she shakes her finger. “No. You need real food. You were gone a long time. I know how much it took out of you.”
I start to growl and she puts her hands on her hips. “One plate. At least.”
“I want you now.”
“You’ll get me,” she soothes. “But first, I need to know you’re okay.” She pulls out my chair. “Sit.”
I hide a grin. “You giving orders now?”
“Yes.” She blushes as she says it and ducks her head. Well, hell, now I can’t refuse her.
“All right, Kit. One plate.”
“And then we talk,” she announces and starts uncovering dishes.
“That sounds ominous,” I mutter, but don’t push it. Now that she’s pulled the cover off the crock pot, I want food.
“Looks good, baby.”
“It’s cochinita pibil,” she says. “Slow cooked pork. My recipe.”
I grab her ass as she serves it up. She laughs and dances away when my hand strays between her legs. She didn’t say anything about me not feeling her up. I wait until she’s out of reach, sitting across the table from me, to pick up my fork. One bite and I’m plowing through the meal.
“Damn, Kit, this is good.”
She says nothing, but beams.
“You gonna eat?”
“I already did.” She puts her elbows on the table, resting her face against her folded hands. Almost like she’s praying, but her eyes are on me. She doesn’t speak. Her hands hide her expression.
As soon as my plate is clean, I reach for her. I could eat more, but first I need a bite of her. “Come here.”
She obeys, and doesn’t protest when I guide her to sit on my lap.
“Grizz-” she starts and I kiss her, drinking more of her sweetness. My fingers fist in her hair, angling her face the way I want it. For a long time she allows it, but then jerks back.
“Grizz, we need to talk.”
I nibble a little more at her lips. “Later,” I murmur.