Page 10 of My Grape Crush
It all happens so fast after that.
I hear a dullthud,followed by a cry of surprise, and then, “Ow! Shit.”
The phone slips out of my outstretched hands, disappearing into the abyss of the wide-open space I fall into. My stumbling ass lurches into a shell-shocked Rhys as he staggers on the frazzled grass with a crimson stream gushing from his nose.
Then we're both falling, the ground rushing to meet us.
Chapter Four
RHYS
Shock washes over me—fromthe fall and a bucketload of bombarding sensations. A rush of warm blood spills out of my nose onto my lips, the stickiness saturated with a metallic tang. The swell of Dani’s bare breasts crushes against my chest, pinning both lungs. I feel the hammer blows of my pulse and fight to take a deep breath. Then another.
The move here is to ask if she is all right, butyoutry to talk with a divine entity sprawled on top of you in the buff.
The idea of asking for cream now?
File that under wildly inappropriate.
Dani slowly lifts her head off my chest. Everything has gone very quiet. I feel dazed like I’ve been touched by black magic, but she looks like a stunned deer chased out of the woods by a hunter. I wait for the awareness to hit her—that the flimsy barrier of my clothes might erupt into flames from the heat of her nakedness. Or if she moves her hips even the slightest, I claim zero responsibility for what she encounters.
Her gaze tapers onto my face, a traumatized horror taking over her expression.
“Oh my god!” she gasps. “Did I break it?”
I gingerly explore the damage with my fingers. Nothing crunches or spears me with pain, but goddamn. The overwhelming pleasure of her body molded onto mine…
Forget my crushed nose. The jolt to my dick is what worries me.
And maybe Dani feels it too because suddenly she pushes up and off me, backpedaling away, stumbling, arms windmilling before she loses her balance and ass-plants in front of me.
For five agonizing seconds, it’s like the world melts away.
The sight of her … legs splayed wide like she's giving 'er for amateur night at the local strip club.Every random dot in the universe connects, forging the beam of twilight sun that slants onto her smooth pink mound like a lurid spotlight.
The gentlemanly thing to do is not fix my gaze on the sparkle.
But life as a hot-blooded male has its limitations.
And there is no denying the object of my attention: a shiny silver barbell looped in the hood of her clit, with two pink pearls on either end twinkling like Christmas presents under the tree.
Holy smokes.
Dani is completely still, quietly absorbing the devastation. Then she clamps her legs together and attempts to cover her heaving, sizeable, and fucking perfect breasts with one arm. I drag my eyes to meet hers with unbridled shame. Apologizing is out of the question. The peep show came to town, and I gawked. Guilty as charged.
So much for professional boundaries.
I finally scrape together some manners, turning my head to give her privacy from life-ending embarrassment.
After an awkward beat that seems to go on for eternity, Dani says, “We need to clean you up.”
“Okay,” I reply, out of my element entirely. “I’ll wait here.”
She’s gone within seconds, scurrying inside for the safety of four walls and clothing. When the coast is clear, I sit up, the weight of what just happened pressing hard on my shoulders. What a way to make an impression, Rhys—creeper at her door.
Shit!
In the dying light of sunset, my chest is heaving as I try to catch my breath. I need a minute to recover before I can do anything about it. Blood dripping onto my t-shirt spreads into a mangled scarlet Rorschach blot, and nausea rumbles precariously in my gut. Even as a kid, injury and pain freaked me out. Dad labeled me Mr. Sensitive, and not in a loving way.
