Grant kissed her hard, settling between her thighs, and Riley wrapped her legs around his hips, desperate for the friction, the closeness, him.
"Now," she breathed. "Please, now."
He scrambled for a condom out of the nightstand and rolled it on quickly. Grant entered her in one smooth thrust, and Riley gasped at the fullness, the rightness of it. He stilled for a moment, his forehead pressed to hers, both of them breathing hard.
"Good?" he managed.
"Perfect. Move."
Grant moved, setting a rhythm that was fast and desperate and exactly what they both needed. Riley met him thrust for thrust, her nails digging into his shoulders, her breath coming in gasps.
It was frantic and hungry and overalmostembarrassingly fast—both of them too wound up from days of wanting. Riley came first, crying out against Grant's shoulder, and Grant followed seconds later with a groan.
They collapsed together, both breathing hard, sweat cooling on their skin.
"That was—" Riley started.
"Fast," Grant finished, and they both started laughing.
"We've been waiting for days and it lasted like five minutes."
"Less than five minutes, probably."
Riley swatted his chest. "Your fault for being so good at that thing you do with your hips."
"My hips, huh?" He raised his brows.
"Don't get cocky."
Grant rolled to his side, pulling her with him, and suddenly the laughter faded into something softer. He brushed hair back from her face, his touch gentle.
"Merry Christmas."
"You already said that."
"It bears repeating." Grant's thumb traced her cheekbone. "You're beautiful, you know that?"
Riley felt her chest go tight. "Grant?—"
"I mean it. You're—" He paused, searching for words. "You're everything."
“Grant…” Riley's chest seemed to crack wide open. The desperate energy from moments ago had transformed intosomething different—a tenderness and vulnerability that made her throat tight.
She believed Grant felt it too. His touch gentled, his kisses slowed. When he entered her again, it was different—slower, deeper, like he was trying to memorize every second.
"Riley," he breathed against her neck, and there was so much in that one word that Riley's eyes stung.
She wrapped herself around him, holding him close, and let the emotion wash over her. This wasn't just sex anymore. Maybe it never had been.
This was Grant.Her Grant. The boy she'd loved in high school and the man she was falling for all over again.
They moved together slowly, building toward something that felt bigger than either of them. When Riley came this time, it was with Grant's name on her lips and tears in her eyes. Grant followed, his face buried in her neck, holding her like she was precious.
Afterward, they lay tangled together, neither wanting to move. Grant's fingers traced lazy patterns on her back. Riley's head was on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow.
"That was different," she said quietly.
"Yeah." Grant's hand stilled. "Good different?"
