Grayson (11 page)

“I need you,” he uttered.

He grabbed my hips with both hands and somehow my brain jolted with awareness. I reached out a palm, placing it flat against his chest.

“Wait!”

I heard his ragged breath fly away as I jumped up, looking for my discarded jacket. I shimmied my soaked panties off while he jerked his pants farther down his hips. Spotting the jacket, I snatched it from the floor, searching through the pockets.

“Condom!” I said, sliding back onto his lap and waving the packet in front of him.

“You do it,” he smiled, nipping my jaw playfully. “The way I feel right now, I’ll probably rip it to shreds.”

I wasn’t any better. My fingers shook miserably as I performed the task. He was swollen so thick that I had trouble rolling it down. And listening to his choppy breaths as I handled his shaft was driving me out of my mind. Finally, I was done and my arms encircled his broad shoulders. He pulled me close and captured my lips. I tasted hot sunshine and velvety rainbows, and sighed contentedly against his lips.

Lifting my hips, he slid me slowly down onto his scorching hot cock. We both cried out, desperate souls clashing together in an ecstatic passion. I needed a minute to adjust to his size, but pleasure lashed at me to move and drove my hips forward. I’d craved him for so long. The nerve endings he rubbed inside were sizzling like grease on a hot stove. He lifted me, dragging delicious sensations along my quivering walls.

“
Oh, fuck!”
I breathed, tightening my grip on his shoulders as he worked my hips up and down his swollen cock, increasing the tempo. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Angie, beautiful, Angie. You feel amazing, so tight, so wet, so hot… so… so… fucking amazing!”

He ground me down on his cock on the last words, flexing upward and filling me so completely that I gasped. His mouth covered mine to lethargically feast on my lips as he changed our tempo to an indolent rhythm. He was massaging a spot inside my pussy each time he thrust that burst exquisite pleasure through my flesh and had my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

The slick walls of my channel quivered and tightened, yet he offered me no respite. He gripped my ass and pumped into me fiercely, his rhythm now rough and demanding. He gave me everything, took everything, and became everything. He filled my very soul to the brim with perfection. Tears blurred my vision and rolled down my cheeks. I knew the orgasm was coming, but when it crashed into me, I was ravaged. I was shaken by its intensity and the absolute purity of my release.

I dug my nails into his shoulders as ecstasy bowed my back to almost breaking. It consumed me, wringing every last drop of bliss from my body as my pussy spasmed uncontrollably. Grayson was moving faster now, his hips punching out of the seat. His magnificent cock swelled and pulsed as he chanted my name over and over against my shoulder. With a thunderous roar, he flung back his head and came in long hard spurts.

We held on to each other, sweating and panting, our breaths tinged sweet with our pleasure. I never wanted him to leave my body. I was afraid to move, afraid to disturb this cloud of absolute contentment.

Oh God, I could lose myself to this man…perhaps I already had…and I didn’t care.
Not one damn whit.
Grayson’s arms were home to me.

I shifted and peeked at him through my heavy lids, my fingers pushing back the locks that had fallen onto his face. He smiled gently, his thumbs brushing away moisture from my cheeks.

“You’re crying…you okay?”

I nodded and leaned forward, placing kisses at his temples where gray had salted his dark strands. My throat was full of emotion, and along with the pleasure still buzzing through my body, I felt remarkable joy.

“It’s late. Let’s get you to bed,” Grayson said, standing.

He kept me wrapped around him while he stepped out of his pants. I pressed my hips close, keeping us joined. I loved the feel of him inside me. I loved the physical, intimate connection. He walked my depleted body down the hall and deposited me on his bed, then pulled away. I must have whimpered when we separated because he smiled and kissed me slowly, licking his tongue deep into my mouth. I kissed him back eagerly, running my palms down the slope of his back and caressing his bare ass.

“Be right back,” he whispered before heading into a room I assumed was the bathroom.

I scooted up on the bed and got under the covers, enjoying the feel of the cool sheets against my naked skin. The room was dark but I could still make out some furniture, and I realized this was where he’d been when I’d first spied on him.

A few minutes later, he came back into the room and I watched his naked form come toward the bed. My heart rate picked up speed just from the sight of him. He was such a beautiful man. His body was strong, toned, and even in the dark I could see that he was still half hard. He stretched out beside me and pulled me into his arms. Smiling, I snuggled deep into his warmth, my entire being sighing a soft purr.

I don’t know what woke me. I couldn’t have been asleep for very long, but a gnawing unease jarred me awake. I sat up in the unfamiliar bed and looked around with my heart thundering. Hazy morning light was sneaking into the room. Grayson was nowhere in sight.
Did he ever sleep?
I’d been surprised to find him awake when I’d gotten here. I wasn’t able to shake the disquiet that hovered over me like a ghost. A tremor moved through me at my sudden chill and I scrubbed my palms up and down my naked arms to ward off the sensation. I stood, aware of the wonderful soreness below, and headed into the bathroom. I peed and washed my hands, looking around. The room was surprisingly clean, especially in contrast to the rest of the house.

Curious about the man who spent most of his time in this house, I pulled open drawers and snooped in the cabinets. One drawer was filled with medication bottles. It was a mess. Frowning, I picked up a couple and read the labels. Some were dated as recently as a year ago and others had dates going back years. All were either antipsychotics or sedatives. For the most part, the bottles were full and untouched, some with the pharmaceutical wrapping still intact. I returned each bottle and closed the drawer.

Grayson was still not there when I returned to the bedroom. Still feeling troubled, I dragged the sheet around my body, and went to search for him. I found him in the room with all the books. He was crouched on the floor naked, his body dimly illuminated in the faint light. At first, I wasn't sure what he was doing, but as I approached, I saw the expression on his face and my stomach bottomed out. I raced over to him, alarm streaking like a blazing arrow through me.

Grayson was amid the scattered books, curled up, with his hands fisted tightly at his temples. The tendons on the back of his hands stuck out beneath his skin from how tightly he was gripping his hair. The look on his face could only be described as absolute terror. My insides tightened painfully.

“
Grayson? Grayson?
” I squatted on the floor next to him, not sure if he’d even heard me, not sure of my own voice. “
Grayson!
” I yelled, when I got no response.

His gaze rambled all over the room, scattering blindly like runaway marbles. Finally, it landed on me, but not with recognition.

“
He’s here! He’s here! He’s coming!
” he hissed.

“Who? Who’s coming?” I asked, confused by the panic straining his voice.

His blue eyes shifted wildly again, zipping to the window. Fear bunched up his face.

“
HE’S COMING!
” he screamed, and the agonizing sound tore a hole through my heart. “Ch-charles is here! I can hear him! I can hear him! I can hear him!”

What. The. Fuck.
I took a deep breath, trying to lasso my run away thoughts and dull the ache that was growing in my chest.

I followed his gaze to a branch knocking against the window and realized that must be the sound he was hearing. I swallowed the burning tension scalding my throat and looked back at his tightly contorted face.

“Grayson,” I called softly, my throat working hard. “Grayson, Charles is not here. It’s just a branch hitting the window.”

He looked pained, shaking his head in vigorous denial.

I reached out a tentative hand, not wanting to scare him.

“Charles is not here,” I repeated and pointed. “It’s just a branch. Look, see. It’s just you and me.”

“
Yes! He’s here!
He wants to take it away! He wants me out! He’s at the window! I can hear him climbing, trying to get in. Don’t let him get in. He wants to take it away!”

My palm rested lightly on his forearm. I tried to keep it from shaking. “Take
what
away?”

His eyes splayed wide as his gaze met mine. The edge of his hairline was slick with sweat, giving his skin a sickly pallor. “
The house! He wants the house!
He’s always climbing, trying to find a way in.” 

I shook my head, realizing that Grayson was very confused and profoundly delusional. It gutted me to watch him so emotionally distressed.

“No. He wants to fix up the house for you. He wants you to be safe here. He’s told me that.” I tried to explain.

“
NO! My family! My family! Peter. Oh God! Peter!
” His face screwed up in anguish and I ran my trembling hand over his hair, pushing the damp strands back. I watched as shadows crept into the confusion on his face, outlining his inner torment.

He wasn't making any sense. Who was Peter? Was he hallucinating? He didn’t seem to be, but his words just didn’t make sense. I couldn’t imagine what was going on in his head. His life was still a huge puzzle to me and I had no idea until now the extent of his mental illness or how much he suffered. I pushed away the sickening ache clawing at my body, determined to be strong for him.

He reached out and grabbed my shoulders, gripping me tightly. His eyes bore into mine, angry.

“
You!
Are you plotting with him? Are you on his side? Are you trying to take the house away from me?”

“No, Grayson.” My voice splintered with emotion.

“
Please, not you, Angie! Not you!”
He shook his head in despair, his eyes shiny. “They’ve always come to clean, but they want to take it away.”

Who was he talking about? Who came to clean? Had others been here before me? Tears blurred my vision as I bowed my head, trying to make some sense of his words. The branch knocked again and he flinched, crying out in a bone-chilling wail.

“Don’t you hear him, Angie?” His gaze jerked around wildly. “He’s climbing up the side of the house. Don’t let him get in.”

I bit my lip. God, how could I help him? How could I make him understand that it was highly unlikely—if not impossible—that Charles was climbing up the side of the house right now, trying to get in? Maybe if he saw for himself.

“We can go look, Grayson. You can see for yourself that no one’s there.”

“
NO!
”

He snaked his arms around my waist, squeezing so hard that my breath staggered out of my lungs. He burrowed his head into my chest, rooting like a baby.

“He comes at night. Always at night.”

“No one’s here except me, Grayson. Only you and me.” My tears fell as I soothed his hair, the drops disappearing in the dark strands. They sprang from a well deep within my heart, a heart that was breaking to pieces to see this beautiful man suffer such mental agony.

Every time the branch hit the window, Grayson’s body seized tight with fear, then relaxed to a constant tremble. I wanted to go out and cut that damned tree down. I prayed to God to still the wind, to sever the branch, to camouflage the sound. Anything. I felt helpless and was totally at a loss. I wanted to find a way to convince him that what he thought was happening wasn’t real. After some time, he seem to calm and relaxed the death grip he had on my body.

“Grayson, come back to bed. Please.” I implored quietly.

“No! I can’t sleep. Too much in my head. It won’t stop,” he whispered weakly. “It won’t stop. It won’t stop. It won’t stop. It won’t stop. It won’t stop.”

So, I sat there on the floor amidst a sea of scattered books, crying silently and enfolding his naked body in the safety of my arms.

Hours later I rushed home, the morning light chasing me. I wanted to get back before Anna woke up. She was going home today and I couldn’t wait. As much as I loved my sister, I needed to be alone with my thoughts, to contemplate the most wonderful and most sorrowful night I’d ever had.

I’d left Grayson on the floor covered with the sheet. He’d finally fallen asleep. I knew that it wouldn’t be for very long. I could see his eyes moving restlessly beneath his closed lids. His frenzied mind kept going, causing his dark lashes to flutter as quickly as a humming bird’s wings. I worried about him now, if he was still entertaining his delusions, still terrified of his son. I remembered the stark terror on his face and choked on the memory of his pain.