“That’ll be easy. I already am, Gray.”
No more words are necessary. I cup her delicate cheek in my clumsy paw. Sutton sags into my hold without hesitation. I tip her face up to mine, angling us closer. Her slow exhale blends with mine. A small taste won’t hurt. I softly brush my lips along hers, more of a tease than anything else. That’s all I planned for this to be. But she opens for me, a flower blooming under the sun. I delve in with pure lust boiling through me. Her honey flavor seeps into me, mixing with mint and citrus. My eyes practically cross while white-hot desire flashes in front of me. Her whimper is my undoing. I need more.
My fingers skim up her inner thigh, a coarse rasp against satin. Hot desire slices into me when she trembles. I fist the fabric of Sutton’s skirt, yanking her into me. She tumbles against my chest with a gasp. I take advantage of her parted lips, diving in for another taste. She moans into my mouth. Her tongue licks at mine and I see a burst of the brightest stars.
Good Lord, this woman will be the end of me.
The zipper of my jeans is about to bust at the seams. I force myself to pull away. Sutton follows my retreat with a wheeze.
“W-what’s wrong?”
“Fuck, nothing.” I grip her hip, staving off another around. Just barely. “We just need to stop.”
She bounces up on her toes, our mouths melting in a heated frenzy. I clutch a handful of her silky hair and tilt us into a seamless kiss. Oxygen leaves my lungs and all I breathe is Sutton. Her pure berry scent. All the sunrises and cloudless skies. Fresh cut grass and tree swings. Fuck, I get lost in all she is.
I rip my mouth away with a groan. “No more. Not here.”
There’s still a flush coloring her smooth skin. I get harder knowing it was me who put it there. “Now what?”
I drift a thumb up her jaw. “Wanna go for a drive?”
“You’re awful adventurous this evening. Where to?”
I smirk at her. “We’ll travel that road soon enough. Until then, I want you sleeping in my arms, in my bed, where you belong. Tonight and from now on.”
14
Sutton
Happy something #89: Conquering new milestones and adventures. The more risky, the better.
Iwake with a jolt. The room is dark and smells heavily of rich pine. I’m in bed alone, the other side still warm. There’s a shower running nearby. The muddled pieces of my awareness quickly snap into place. I smile wide, pressing two fingers to my lips.
The sheets are in a twist all around me, evidence of a great night. A searing blaze stings my cheeks at the reminder. I fan at my flushing skin, catching sight of my mostly-bare bottom half. But the scrap of silk between my legs remains securely in place. Much to my dismay, Grady insisted that we stall at first base and only kiss. My demands for more were met with steely resolve. I found a few cracks in his armor, though. He couldn’t deny me everything.
We ended up sharing far more than a few innocent pecks.
My face and neck are chafed in all the best places. A lingering reminder that Grady was there. Fantasies are born from that type of steamy make out session. A definite benefit was being graced by his near-nakedness. Only a tight pair of black briefs had concealed him. I wanted to shred that forsaken cotton with my teeth.
I glance at the glow coming from beyond the closet. The shower is still blasting at full power. Grady is in there, on the other side, without a stitch of clothing covering him. A solid plan forms in front of me, elicit and bold. The idea alone is an electric thrill skittering through me. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. When did I get so daring? The provocative man within reach answers that without a word. I hear the water cut off, feel that stream abruptly end as if it’s a vibration in my bones. The possibilities of what happens next loops a snug string around my waist. I scoot further on the mattress and almost slip off.A sudden whoosh rings out from the far corner, halting my haste.
The bathroom door opens with a billowing cloud of woodsy-scented steam. A freshly scrubbed Grady struts out in all his shirtless glory. Stray droplets speckle his tan skin. A few trickle down the cut muscles of his abs, and travel lower into the towel around his waist. The impressive ridge tenting the threadbare fabric is practically waving at me.
Good Christ.
There’s a pool of salvia prepared to dribble out if I don’t act soon. I swallow twice for good measure. I bite my lip, envisioning all the ways to make him messy. The list is endless, but three tiny words bounce around my brain.
Drop. The. Towel.
No doubt that’s where things should start. Grady prowls toward me with a fluid stride. Too bad for me, that white cloth stays firmly knotted. Confidence broadens his already wide shoulders. There’s no sign of pain or weakness. He appears to be in top virile form, capable of making me squirm with a single glance. I clutch at the pile of sheets for some false sense of stability. The material does little to hold me down. I’m liable to lunge forward and plaster myself to his chiseled chest. His eyes skewer me into place, as if he’s able to read my wicked intentions.
I cross my legs, only to release them a moment later. I’m a jittery mass of pent-up yearning for this man. He better not think about trying to keep things tame again. Once I manage to regain a smidgen of wits, I’m upping my game.
Grady’s stride doesn’t quit until our knees bump. “Good morning, beautiful.”
I walk my toes up his shin. “Hey, Gray. I could have joined you.”
He tucks some hair behind my ear. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
