I collapse back, pulling her with me, and take her in a deep kiss. This is my favourite part. I love fucking her, yeah. This last week has been full of dirty, hot, mind-blowing sex. The kind that leaves me absolutely fucking wrecked.
Grace can wreck me any day of the week. As long as I getthisafter. Her mouth. Weaving my fingers in her hair, exploring her with my tongue, taking her lips between my teeth. Another thing I could do every damn day.
She breaks away and rolls off me, then snags my T-shirt from the floor and slips it on. She gives me a second to tug on my boxers before settling into the crook of my chest.
“You really love torturing yourself, don’t you?” she says, her voice laced with humor.
I pull her in tighter. “I don’t like losing.”
“Me neither.”
“You sure? I think I’ve had you losing every night this week.”
She pinches my side playfully, then settles deeper into my arms.
I savour it, this closeness. This moment with her, while she’s sprawled on top of me. As her breathing starts to slow, her muscles unwinding, I count down to the part that I’ve started to hate a little—the part where she leaves.
Just sex.We agreed. It’snothing,she said. And yeah, it sounded like a good deal at the time. I get Gracie without all the strings. Without the complications. I get a naked girl in my bed without the expectation that I have to do more. And Grace? Not really sure what she’s getting out of this. She seems to like the way I fuck her, so maybe that’s enough. But that’s the problem. It doesn’t feel like enough.
I’m not good at themorepart. And since Emily, I’ve opted out of it all. I don’t do relationships. I don’t do sleepovers. I don’t want to meet the parents or the friend group or go to the work Christmas party. No strings. It’s my thing. So Grace rolling out of bed and leaving after we’ve gone a few rounds should be second nature to me. Barely even a thought.
But it’s a thought. A small one nagging at the back of my mind every time she walks away.
Just sex.
We agreed.
Every night, we fuck, and then she gets dressed and walks out. I don’t ask her to stay, regardless of how much I want her to.
Her fingers wander over my skin, idly mapping a path over my stomach and lower to the edge of my boxers.
My dick twitches at the proximity. “Gracie.” I sigh. “If you want another round, I’m game, but I’m gonna need a short nap. And maybe a couple bottles of Gatorade.”
With a snort, she says, “I’m just taking a little time to enjoy all these pretty muscles. You know they’re my favourite part of you.”
“Hmm. Not my sparkling personality?”
Another laugh. “No. But maybe you’re growing on me a little.”
She continues her exploring, moving higher, tracing over the scar that rips down most of my chest. From the accident. I used to shudder when a woman would touch it, pull away, but now it’s just another part of me. A part that broke. That had to be stitched back together.
I was only conscious for a few minutes after the crash. I don’t remember much. Just a heaviness on my chest, like I couldn’t breathe. And then a lot of pain. Like an electric current slicing into my lungs and zapping out towards my limbs. And Emily, of course. Head resting on what was left of the dash, the blood pouring from her nose and mouth, and those dead, lifeless eyes. Looking straight at me.
I think I screamed.
“I didn’t take you for a tattoo guy,” Grace says. She skims her fingers over my left rib, where Emily’s name is inked into my skin. “Did you… get this after she died?”
I smile, pushing out the image of hollow, empty eyes that still haunt my nightmares and replacing them with a better memory. “No. That was a bet I lost.”
The fingers tracing over the black lines still. “A bet?”
“Yeah, she uh, was really good at cards. Likereally good.Wiped the floor with all of us when we were in high school.She’s the reason poker was banned at South Bay Sec our senior year.” A small laugh escapes me. “We were down in Niagara at one of the casinos, and I bet her I could take home more cash than she could. We were twenty, maybe. Obviously she won.”
Grace presses her hand to the tattoo. Almost like she’s holding it.
I take a breath, watch as she rises and falls with my chest. “She told me this was theprice of my arrogance. A permanent reminder of who beat me, of how wrong I can be sometimes.”
Grace laughs. “Cold-blooded. I love it.”
