Free Inside Out by Grayson Cole Page A

concentrated deeply on what he was doing. As he laid those kisses on her face, that concentration slowly unfurled her fists, slowly drew her into what she wanted. When he finally pressed expert lips to hers, that slow motion she had felt in the beginning turned into flashes: him kissing her, her hands in his hair, his fingers pulling open the buttons on her blouse, his lips and tongue teasing her in the very center of her chest, her grasping him, bringing him to her breasts. But that didn’t help because by then she could feel her pulse beating everywhere under her skin. Tracey squirmed beneath him, understanding that the heat of his mouth wasn’t going to be enough. She knew there was only one right way to end it—and there was no way in hell she was going do that. Abruptly, she sat up and began to arrange her clothes.
    For a long moment he just stared forward, breathing heavily. “I’m sorry,” he said finally.
    â€œFor what?” Tracey didn’t look at him.
    â€œI don’t know.”
    After that night, they didn’t touch anymore. At all. Period. Always, Tracey wondered if he was going to make a move, but he never did. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten all about it while she couldn’t get it off her mind. Once, he came over after intramural football. His hair was ruffled, there was a small cut above his eye and he was wearing those old navy shorts. She had never seen anyone so devastatingly sexy.
    Though he played football, he didn’t have football legs. He had tennis legs, long, slender, well-muscled and tanned. His already warm-toned skin with its deep summer tan gave him a dark buttery glow that just emphasized every single line and cut of his body. Tracey’s attention span, as far as studies went, was nonexistent that night. Garrett laughed and said he was never going to study with her again because she lacked focus. Then he asked if she had been drinking without him.
    Tracey wondered what it would take to get him to kiss her again, since it had taken so little encouragement the first time he touched her. Not that she wanted him to.
    * * *
    Rett rolled over and pulled the warm body closer to him. Playfully, he planted a kiss on the warm neck in front of him, and that woke him out of his sleep. He knew this body and this smell. And he had just been about to call it by someone else’s name. Kim moaned his name in her sleep and put her hand over his, lacing their fingers together. That was sweet. Kim was sweet. He loved Kim. Yep. His eyes popped open. It had to be two-thirty in the morning. Slowly he tried to disentangle himself.
    â€œYou can’t sleep, honey?” Kim asked, turning over. Her cheek was red from where she had been lying on the pillow. Her eyes were half-closed with long silky brown lashes. Her dark curls were a soft halo around her head. Rett loved Kim.
    â€œNaw, babe, but you get some sleep.”
    â€œOkay,” she whispered and let her eyes close again.
    She didn’t deserve this, Rett thought. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a soda. Then he grabbed a beer, too. He was only going to drink that as a last resort. However, he didn’t make it back to the bedroom. He stopped instead in front of the TV. He grabbed the remote and plopped down on the couch. His eyes barely saw the flashes on the screen. Instead, he had a woman on his mind. A black woman. Things had gone way too far that last time. Sure, it was one thing to flirt. Everybody does that. But his relationship with Tracey was getting out of control. Then again, why couldn’t he just have what he wanted? Really. Why couldn’t he just have it? One time? Nobody had to know. Hell, she wanted it that way.
    â€œWhat the hell are you doing up?” Clay asked on his way to the kitchen.
    â€œCouldn’t sleep.”
    â€œYour ass never sleeps. Well, at least not here.” Clay gave him a sideways glance and sat down next to Rett. “Kim