Riley's breath caught. "Then don't wait."
Grant kissed her, and it was different from this morning—slower, deeper, more deliberate. Like he was savoring her.
She let herself just feel.
Grant's hands slid into her hair, and Riley pressed closer, her body fitting against his like they were designed for this.
"Upstairs?" Grant murmured against her mouth.
Riley's heart slammed against her ribs. Upstairs meant his bedroom. Meant staying. Meant this was definitely crossing another line.
"Yes," she breathed.
Grant took her hand and led her through the house, up the stairs to his room. It was simple and clean—wood furniture, soft lighting, a bed that looked sturdy and inviting.
Grant closed the door behind them and turned to face her. For a moment, they just looked at each other, the air thick with want and something deeper Riley wasn't ready to name.
"Come here," Grant said quietly.
Riley crossed to him, and his hands found her waist, pulling her close. He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, like they had all the time in the world.
His fingers found the hem of her sweater, and he pulled back just enough to look at her. "Can I?"
Riley nodded, raising her arms. Grant pulled the sweater over her head, his eyes tracking over her skin with an intensity that made her shiver.
"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice rough.
"Grant—"
He kissed her again, his hands sliding up her back, finding the clasp of her bra. Riley helped him with the rest, her jeans and his, until they were both in just underwear, skin against skin.
Grant's hands were everywhere—her shoulders, her waist, the curve of her hip—touching her like he was memorizing her.
"Grant," Riley breathed. "I need?—"
"What do you need?" His mouth found her neck, her collarbone. "Tell me."
"You. I need you."
"You have me." He guided her backward toward the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. "But I want to take my time with you tonight. Is that okay?"
Riley's breath caught at the promise in his voice. "Yeah. That's okay."
He laid her back on the bed, following her down, his weight settling over her in a way that made her feel safe and wanted and completely undone.
Grant kissed his way down her body—her neck, her collarbone, the valley between her breasts. His mouth was hotand thorough, taking his time, and Riley's hands fisted in the sheets.
"I've been thinking about this," Grant murmured against her skin. "About tasting you. Making you fall apart."
Riley's hips arched off the bed. "Grant?—"
"Tell me if you want me to stop."
"Don't stop. Please don't stop."
His hands hooked in her underwear, and he looked up at her, his eyes dark with want. "Can I?"
"Yes. God, yes."
