“You’re close, aren’t you, baby?” he asked. “I can feel how tight you’re getting.”
His hand moved up my torso, and he tweaked my nipple with his thumb, his touch firm.
“Yes. God, I’m coming.” I moaned the words as my entire body spasmed.
Elijah released my breast and grabbed my shoulders, pinning me down as he slammed into me harder and faster.
I cried out and threw my arms around him as my orgasm crested, my nails digging into his back.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Grier.”
A tremor ran through him as he thrust inside me one last time, grinding his hips into mine.
His body draped over mine, his weight pressing me deeper into the bed, and he nuzzled his face into my neck. I ran my hands over his lats, down to his lower back.
Elijah lifted his head, looking down at me with lazy blue eyes. “I love you, Grier.”
My heart stopped at his words and my mouth went dry.
“I know it’s soon. And I know that it might take time for you to believe me after what’s happened between us. But I want you to know. I’m crazy in love with you, and I’m all in. I don’t ever want you to doubt that.”
My first instinct was to remain quiet, to keep my feelings to myself. But I’d promised myself that I would take this risk with Elijah. I’d accepted that the potential heartbreak would be worth it in the long run.
“I believe you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat before I continued. “I mean, you talked your cousin into buying an art gallery so you could spend time with me. That would be a huge red flag and probably considered stalking by most women?—”
He silenced me with a soft kiss. When he lifted his head, he said, “I don’t expect you to say it ba?—”
My fingers pressed to his lips, stopping his words. “I love you, too, Elijah.”
His sapphire eyes gleamed down at me, but he didn’t speak when I removed my hand. He just kissed me again.
“How do you feel about letting me leave some stuff here?” he asked.
“I could be convinced.”
He smiled slightly. “And I want you to bring some things to my place, too. I want you there as often as you want to be. Though I think I like your apartment more.”
“You like my apartment more than your house?”
“It’s cozy. You’re within arm’s reach all the time. And it smells like you.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
“I’ll be right back.”
He pulled away and walked down the hall to the bathroom. He came back a few minutes later with a damp washcloth. Once he cleaned me up, he slipped on his sweatpants and vanished again. When he returned, he carried two bottles of water and a box of peanut butter mini sandwich crackers.
I slipped on a baggy t-shirt and my underwear, and we cuddled in my bed as we drank water and snacked. It was something couples probably did all the time, but it felt special to me. I could envision us doing this at night for the rest of our lives. For the first time since we started seeing each other, the thought didn’t scare me.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tonight was the night.
Lucy’s show was starting in an hour, and I was freaking out.
I had a running checklist of things that needed to be done, both big and small. Every single item was checked off, but I couldn’t help but worry that I’d forgotten something. There were also small details that needed attention—such as the light that went out over one of the larger pieces. Or the caterer running twenty minutes late.
I ignored the stress sweat that gathered beneath my arms as I did one last walk through of the gallery, checking all the photos again, sweeping up some trash I saw in one corner, and checking the small grouping of cocktail tables in the center of the space. There was also a table set up against one wall that held appetizers, a charcuterie tray, and miniature desserts from what was now my and Davide’s favorite bakery.
