He grabs my ass and presses my chest to his abs. I’m in sneakers today for the first time in a while, and it’s difficult for us to get close this way. “There is, but that doesn’t mean I can’t show you both.” Grayson lifts me up, causing me to yelp as he carries me like a rag doll, grabs my coat and purse with one hand, and takes us to his truck. I laugh the entire way there, all too happy about how determined he is to get me to his place for the surprise he has planned.
Chapter Forty-Eight
GRAYSON
I’m hugging Emma by the waist when we walk past the front door of my small house. She’s trying to wriggle out of my hold since we’ve almost tripped five times now, but it’s our first time back, and it’s fun to tease her. We also haven’t had sex or seen each other in two days, and the drive up here was torture with the little touches we kept giving each other.
At one point, I got so desperate that I ended up fingering her until she came all over my hand. Emma tried giving me head, but I refused, not wanting to risk an accident. Which, yes, seems ironic, but with how hard I come with her, it’d be more distracting than hearing her moans and screams.
“You decorated,” she finally says, breaking free from me and walking around the living room, looking at the new pictures I put up on the walls and in the small bookcase.
“I did,” I confirm. Emma constantly told me I needed to make my house more personable, and although having only her here is enough for me, I want her to feel at home, too.
She swivels her hips as she walks around and notices the new throw pillows I got.
“I got a decorator. I don’t actually know what throw pillowslooked good with the changes I made.” I’m fucking nervous as hell to show her the surprise I have in the backyard.
Her big blue eyes shift to one of the large pictures, and her voice lowers. I feel completely at ease telling her the answer to her following question. “Is that one of your mom’s photos?”
Walking toward her, I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Most of them are, but this one’s my favorite.”
“Is there a particular reason?”
Flashes of my mom, dad, Wes, and Lainey pierce my mind, and I smile at the memory. “It was the best picture my mom ever took, at least to me, and it was because all of us were there.”
The picture shows an eastern cottontail bunny eating a strawberry that Lainey left behind in our backyard, hoping to lure in some animal to watch during the summer. I tell Emma the story about how the bunny kept coming back for more fruit, and because of Lainey, Mom ended up with about a hundred pictures of the animal on her camera. But she never said no to the request.
“We were so young back then, and she worked every summer, but she took a couple of weeks off to spend time with us, and that bunny took at least three days’ worth of our time with her.”
Emma lets out a breathy laugh. “Well, dang. Now it’s my favorite, too.”
“I called them and left a voicemail while I was in London,” I tell her. For some reason, I haven’t mentioned it yet. Maybe it’s because we’ve been feeling so light and happy that there’s never been a right time to bring it up.
Her head lifts, and her beautiful face lights up with that familiar curiosity of hers. “Oh?”
“I’d called them before Thanksgiving, too, about you. In fact, the last four calls have been about you, and I’ve only made seven this past year.” She hesitates to ask what I know that big brain of hers is curious about. “The last call was on New Year’s, and Itold them my entire plan.” I laugh. “As if they didn’t already know.”
Emma nods, understanding why I communicate with them the way I do.
“I asked my cousin to send me signs last semester. About you, that is,” she tells me. “Including one on New Year’s.” Kissing the top of her head, I let her continue the story, knowing it’s the one thing we’ve avoided talking about after I asked her to be my girlfriend. “Now that I think about it, maybe it was Amelia’s call. I still find it odd that she called me weeks before the semester started.” I smirk to myself, not telling her that I pressured Ben into talking to Amelia and Oliver for her. “You remember that night at Simone’s?”
Chuckling, I say, “How could I forget? It was the first time I let myself touch you last semester in that fucking dress with those heels.” I bite my knuckle, my cock twitching in my pants at the memory of the tight dress that accentuated every single one of her curves.
Emma giggles. “Down, boy.” She taps my shoulder, and I snort. “Going back to what I was saying, I asked her to send me a sign that night to let me know that the semester would get better. As soon as I did, you popped out of that back room all drunk and dopey.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You’d already won me over. The alcohol only intensified what I felt.”
She gives me a knowing look. “You had me very confused then, Mr. Hayes.”
I made many mistakes last semester, one of them was not being as straightforward with Emma as I was with myself, but I wouldn’t change a fucking thing if it meant that we’d end up right where we were meant to be.
Although I know we just entered some emotionally heavy territory, I can’t ignore the carnal urge I’m feeling. Emma’s eyes heat when her ass accidentally brushes against my semi-hard cock, but she takes a step back. “You promised to show mesomething I haven’t already seen.” Her throat bobs, cheeks flushing, tits shifting with the tight V-neck sweater she’s wearing. She wants me just as badly as ever, and fuck, I love her for that, but a promise is a promise.
Giving her the smile I know makes her knees weak, I stick my hand out. “It’s in the backyard.” Her ears perk up, and she does a little excited shimmy that only brings my attention back to her chest. I groan. “Let’s go before I change my mind and fuck you over the new ottoman.”
Emma hums in a way that tells me she’s interested in doing it as soon as possible.
We reach the back door. “Close your eyes.”
