I’m not subtle, apparently, because he’s grinning at me when I meet his gaze. My lip pinches between my teeth, and he smiles as he pulls a t-shirt on. He must have caught me.
Greyson approaches slowly, languidly, like a hunting cat, and he plants his hands on the counter framing my waist. He’s so close, granted no closer than when we sit on the couch together, but like this…
What Adam told me about this, about being boxed in by a guy means he’s interested, has my heart speeding up.
And Greyson is close, hovering in this intimate space.
I want to test Adam’s theory, so I tip closer, almost brushing my nose against his.
Energy zaps between us, this sexual tension I’ve been simmering in this last week.
“Drew?” His whisper is agonizing. But when my nose bumps his, it seems to break his stalemate.
Greyson kisses me, mouth soft but earnest. When my lips part, his hesitation is gone and he kisses me like he might perish without me.
11
GREYSON
Drew’s touch skitters up my arms, across my shoulders and chest, and when she opens to me, I dive in for it, taking her mouth like I’ve been dreaming about since she’s returned.
I thought she had a thing for Gabe. Or Adam. Or fuck, both.
God, I used to coach her. Does it matter that it was a decade ago? That she’s grown now. So different from how she was as a girl. Although the same, too.
I can’t tell if this is right, but I don’t think I have the willpower to stop.
Heat tears through me as her body sways into mine.
Her hand grabs a hold of my shirt, and I press her into the counter with my hips. God, I can’t believe the way she’s reacting to me, and I’m so fucking hard that she has to feel it against her belly.
I’m surprised by how insanely right this feels. All that tension wasn’t in my head.
The craving to lift her onto the counter and defile her is overwhelming. I rock into her, and she rocks with me.
Fuck, would she let me? I’ve been daydreaming of touching her, of her touching me, of tucking her under me and discovering every way I can make her come.
When her touch finds the small gap between my jeans and my shirt, it’s like I’m hit with lightning.
Her fingers spread against my stomach, palm scorching my skin before her fingers dip along the waistband.
I break my mouth from hers to say her name again. It’s a question and a plea. I need to know what she wants. What she’s willing to give me because I don’t want to push…but I want all of her.
“Take your shirt off.” Her voice is so soft, I almost don’t hear it.
But I comply without waiting to think about it.
Drew yanks open the button on my jeans and wraps her hand around my shaft.
“Fuck.” I drop the shirt on the floor, sink my hand in her hair, and take her mouth again, trusting her to know what she wants. To make her own decisions.
She strokes me, firm and steady until my hips shift within her grasp. The pleasure of her touch is so intense I’m not sure how long I’ll last.
I’ve been so tense and tight and riled up. It’s been too long since someone wanted me back.
I swear again against her mouth and reach down to unbutton her first layer and pull down the hem of her undershirt to bare her breasts.
Those little buds are high and tight, and one little tug makes her moan and squeeze me in her grip.
