“Do you think I could forget the way you felt wrapped around me when I was buried inside you?” His voice is gravelly and filled with desire. “That I haven’t thought about it every fucking night since? Or touched myself to the memory of you? Fuck, Ave, it’s all I’ve been doing for twelve fucking years.”
My pulse stutters at his admission. Without hesitation, I close the distance between us and cup his face as my mouth presses against his in a kiss that speaks volumes of my need for him.
Grayson lets out a low growl, banding his arm around my waist before he drags me over the center console and into his lap as he takes control. I drown in the taste of him, pulled under the current of his scent, and sinking into everything he’s offering me.
When I desperately need air, I pull away, tipping my head back and closing my eyes as he takes the cue to kiss and nip at the exposed column of my throat. I grind on his lap, rubbing against the hardness of his cock.
God, I want him so much.
Grayson grunts as I moan, my fingers digging into his biceps as he thrusts up. I’m hit suddenly by a memory of us when we were teenagers, sneaking off into cornfields just to get lost in each other. It was always like this between us, but back then we were young and messy.
And now?
Now it feels like my soul is returning to the place it’s been aching for all these years.
Home.
The thought is wiped away when his hands skim up my thighs, and he grabs my ass, squeezing it. He’s so close and yet so far from where I need him to be.
I reach between us, unbuckling his belt and making quick work of the buttons of his jeans. Our mouths are fused, and I fumble a few times when Grayson smooths his thumb over my cotton-covered clit.
When I finally have his cock free, I stroke him a couple of times. He’s hot and hard in my hand and larger than I remember. I break the kiss, holding his half-lidded stare as our chests heave in tandem. In the moonlight, it’s hard to decipher what he’s thinking, but his arousal rolls off him in waves.
Grayson swallows, baring his teeth before hissing as I run my thumb over the tip of his cock. “Ave,” he warns, not bothering to hide just how close he is to losing control.
“Gray,” I tease, before falling serious. “Tell me how much you’ve missed me, baby.”
He tips his head back on the headrest, closing his eyes. His nostrils flare like he can’t quite bear to answer the question. I squeeze his cock lightly, and he groans, looking at me through his lashes.
We stare at each other for what feels like a lifetime before he finally speaks. His voice is low and raw, like he’s forcing the words out. “Every damn day, Ave.” He shifts in his seat, sliding a hand around the back of my neck and somehow grounding me.
“I missed you when I woke up, when I went to bed, when I touched myself and wished it was you. Hell, I missed you so much, the grief ate at my soul, Ave. I shut myself off from everyone just so I could hate you. Just so I could survive losing you.”
His words break through to something inside of me, the part of me that held on to what we could have been. For so long, I told myself that I’d missed the boat, ruined any chance I had of getting back the best thing that had ever happened to me. But hearing him say this gives me hope, no matter how dangerous that might be, because deep down the rational part of me knows we don’t have a future. Not when he’s never leaving Coldwater and I can’t stay forever. At least not right now.
My eyes sting with unshed tears, but Grayson drags his mouth along my jaw and up to my ear, distracting me.
His warm breath sends a shiver down my spine when he growls, “And now that I have you, I don’t know how I’ll ever let you go again.”
A whimper—one of need and sorrow—slips from my lips, and I fist the front of his shirt, holding on to the fabric so that I don’t lose him again. A different kind of tension fills the air, one I can’t quite name.
Leaning back, I hold his stare and whisper my truth because that look in his eyes leaves me with no choice. “I don’t want you to.”
Grayson groans, deep and guttural, before crashing his mouth to mine. This isn’t a soft or tentative kiss. This is desperation and years of aching finally being unleashed. We move in sync, our hands roaming over our bodies.
I pull his belt free, tugging his jeans down his legs as he grips my thighs before moving one hand up my back and tangling it in my hair. Moving my panties to the side, I guide his cock through my slick folds, gasping as it passes over the sensitive nub of my clit.
As Grayson lifts my hips, I line him up with my entrance, slowly sinking onto him. My jaw goes slack as my body stretches to accommodate his length.
We hold still for a moment, Grayson’s fingers digging into the flesh on my hips as I grip his shirt. Our moans collide in the space between us, our chests heaving as we try to hold on to an ounce of control.
When all I feel is a delicious ache, I roll my hips, testing out the feel of him. He’s so big. It might have been less than a week since he was last inside of me, but it feels like the first time all over again.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I press my lips to his, needing another way of being connected to him. Grayson guides me, lifting my hips as I rock back and forth.
The only sounds in the car are those of my hips slapping against his as I ride his cock and our labored breathing. It only heightens my arousal, bringing me closer to completion.
I brace myself on the console and door, sliding up and down Grayson’s cock. He takes advantage of the new position, swiping his thumb over my clit before applying a light pressure. The sensation is torturous but in the best possible way. I feel the tension building in my core, and I arch my back as my body stiffens.
