“Grey,” I breathe, my voice barely audible. “I want to stay.”
Whatever comes next, consequences be damned. I know this isn’t a mistake.
9
Grey
My heart pounds harder than any workout I’ve ever done. As soon as Kari gives me the go ahead, I break out in a sweat. She’s all I’ve ever wanted and finally in my grasp.
I unlock the door and step aside, letting her go first. She hesitates for half a beat, like crossing the threshold is the last test, the final barrier before there’s no turning back. But the truth is, if she changes her mind five minutes from now or later, she’s free to go. I’d never force her to do anything she isn’t comfortable with. I want her to feel safe, in control.
She looks around as I turn on the lights. My apartment’s nothing fancy. It’s a guy’s place. A worn couch that’s seen better days, a couple of rumpled throw blankets in a haphazard pile, dumbbells and resistance bands lying beside the TV stand.
She takes it all in quietly, eyes moving from one thing to the next.
“It’s nice,” she says softly.
“Yeah?” I say, relief loosening in my chest.
She nods. A weak smile plays at the corners of her mouth. “It’s very you.”
She shrugs out of her hoodie and drapes it over the back of a chair, making herself at home. In my home. She wears simple leggings and a body fitting tank top. No more barriers. No more armor.
I’m acutely aware of my breathing and how hot I feel. I move toward the kitchen out of instinct. “Water? Or, uh, something else?”
“No thanks.” She shakes her head. “I’m good.”
She stays where she is, near the couch, hands loosely wrapped around her middle. The silence stretches, charged with an energy that soaks into my skin.
“I’m not freaked out,” she says, like she needs me to hear it. “Just… I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Me, neither,” I say, taking a step toward her. “But I don’t regret it.”
She takes a step closer, then another. Each one deliberate. Each one drawing something deep and urgent from my chest.
She stops at arm’s length, close enough I can feel her warmth and the faint trace of chocolate chip ice cream. I lift my hand slowly, giving her every chance to stop me, and then brush my knuckles along her forearm. The contact is light, exploratory. She shivers and her breath hitches.
“That okay?” I ask.
She nods. “More than okay.”
So I slide my hand up her arm, feeling the soft curve of muscle beneath my palm, enjoying the way she leans into my touch. My other hand settles at her waist. She exhales a long, shaky breath and rests her hands on my chest. Right over my heart.
I dip my head, pressing my forehead to hers. The contact sends a quiet thrill through me. Slowly our bodies come together, our breath mingling, exchanging heat. And she fits against me perfectly, like she’s made for me.
When I finally lower my mouth to hers, it’s unhurried. I want her to feel my intention, feel my silent promise. Everything is different now, and I’m never walking away from her.
Kari
Our lips meet again and the tempo’s slow, exploratory. I commit the kiss to memory, the pacing, the way he draws in my lower lip. His lips move against mine with a patience that makes my knees weak.
I melt into him. My hands slide up his chest, feeling the solid warmth beneath my palms. When his tongue brushes mine, tentative at first, my breath catches. He tastes of coffee and sugar, salty sweet.
The kiss deepens, tripping a live wire that sends a current of energy zipping through me. I feel him in my bones, in my lungs… in my heart.
My body responds before my brain can catch up. Every nerve ending lights up, buzzing, alive. I press closer, my breasts brushing against his chest, my fingers curling into his hair. He groans and the vibration makes me shiver.
Grey’s hands move—slow, deliberate—resting at my waist, thumbs brushing the curve of my hips, testing boundaries. His touch is reassuring, reverent, as if he’s savoring every second, too. I feel wanted in a quiet, devastating way that sinks into my bones and sticks to all my soft, feminine spots. Redefining the unease I’m so used to, and bringing my body to life.
