Текст книги "From the Wreckage"

Автор книги: Melissa Collins

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Without warning, he lifts me up into his arms, holding me hard to his chest. Dipping his head to mine, he takes my lips in a hot kiss. No soft, gentle nips here. Everything about this kiss is to take what he wants, for me to give him everything he needs. Effortlessly, he carries me to my room, and only once my feet are on the floor does he pull his lips away from mine. “Stay here,” he commands, as if there’s somewhere else on the entire planet I’d rather be.

Dressed in only his boxers, he walks back out into the living room. His ass. Holy fuck. I actually crane my head out the door to watch it for a second longer before he disappears from my sight. When he returns, his arms are filled with our clothes. “Cleaning? Really? That’s what’s on your mind right now?”

Dropping everything but his pants, he fishes out a condom from his pocket. “I couldn’t care less about the damn clothes, Grace. In fact, you need to get rid of the rest of yours. But this,”—he turns the condom over in his fingers—“this is fairly important.”

Tossing it behind me, the condom lands on the bed. Then he’s on me, his lips taking mine as if his next breath needs to come from me. His arms around my waist, he walks us to the bed until the back of my knees bump into the mattress. With his fingers dancing over my skin, my eyes close, reveling in the feel of his touch. “Keep them open, baby. Look at me,” he commands, stroking his thumb over my jaw. “Even when I kiss you, look at me.” When his lips fall on mine, our eyes stay connected, letting this unnamable thing pass between us. It’s the most exposed and most comfortable I’ve ever felt with someone. As his tongue lashes against mine, the liquid heat from his eyes flows through my veins, settling low in my belly.

Working his arms behind me, he unhooks my bra, letting it fall to the floor. Following his demand, I keep my eyes open. And watching him move down my body, feeling his lips and teeth kiss and nip at my skin, it’s almost too much to take in. Across my collarbone, down the center of my breasts, his kisses make me weak, melting my body into mess of needy desire.

Circling his thumbs over my nipples, I arch my back into his touch. “Ahh,” I groan, needing more. Placing soft kisses in smaller and smaller circles, he touches every inch of my breast except where I need it most. Letting my nipples harden until it’s almost painful, he keeps licking and kissing my skin.

“Not yet,” he mutters against my skin when I push my body into his touch. Sinking to his knees, he hooks his thumbs into the thin straps of my panties, guiding them down my legs. His kisses continue down my stomach, along my thighs, everywhere except where I’m dying for him to touch, to kiss, to take. Easing me onto the bed, he has me sprawled out and completely naked. Standing above me, he tells me how goddamn beautiful I am, but leaves me writhing here needing to feel his touch once again.

Unable to go without him a minute longer, I crawl up onto my knees. “Now it’s my turn,” I threaten, raining kissing across his stomach, licking down the deep V cut into his sides. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, I hook my fingers in the waistband of his boxers and push them as far down as I can. He kicks them off and stands before me, hot and hard, waiting and ready. Every muscle in his body is pulled tight, like a bow ready to snap. Resting back on my calves, I stare at him. “David,” I whimper his name. “You’re beautiful.” Taking him in my hand, I softly caress him. Running my fingertips over his veins and ridges, I watch his face as he wars with his control.

Tightening my grip, I keep stroking him as I rise up and bring my lips to his. My tongue dives into his mouth at the same pace my hand works over him. Swallowing his growls of pleasure, I love feeling him push himself into my hand. But then, in a move so quick I barely have a moment to recognize it, he’s pulling me onto the mattress, sprawling himself on top of me.

“Remember what I said the other night, about a man not being a man if he doesn’t take care of his woman first?” His question nearly sends me over the edge, my legs shaking beneath him.

“You don’t have to,” I protest, missing the feel of him in my hand

“This has nothing to do with what I have to do,” he says against my skin, trailing kisses down to the center of my breasts. “It has everything to do with what I need.” In a frenzy of fingers and kisses, he’s all over me. Taking a nipple into his mouth, he licks over the tightened bud, making me whimper.

As he moves down my stomach, my fingers lace into his hair. His hands move to my breasts, pulling and twisting on my nipples as his mouth moves along the inside of my thighs. His hot breath cascades over my skin as his thumb strokes along the seam of my wet flesh. A cry of pleasure falls from my lips as his tongue moves against me. “You’re dripping, baby. My god, so fucking perfect.” His words fall against me, but his tongue stops. “Tell me what you want,” he demands, keeping his tongue and lips away from where I need them the most.

“You,” I whine, rolling my hips into his face. Damn him for making me this needy, for doing this to me and then pulling away.

“Not good enough,” he snickers, nipping at the soft skin of my inner thigh. “Tell me exactly what you want and you’ll get it, but I need to hear you say it.”

“David,” I beg. “Please. I want you. Can’t you tell?”

“So then tell me,” he taunts. “Just say the words, baby.”

Channeling every ounce of my desire into my words, I let them fall from my lips as if they’re the last ones I’ll ever say. “Make me come. Please. I want more of your mouth on me. Your fingers in me. My clit. God, please. I need to feel you, David.”

“Here.” He moves his tongue to my clit, circling it lazily.

“Yes, oh, God, yes.” Shamelessly, I grind my hips up into his face. “More please. I need you.”

As if he’s reached the last reserves of his control, he moves his tongue in a frenzy over my clit, stopping only to plunge it into my pussy. With insatiable hunger, he laps up my need, transforming it and morphing it with his own. With every drop of me he consumes, he only becomes hungrier, needing more and more.

My insides clench, needing something to clamp down on. “Your fingers. Oh, God, please. Use your fingers.” Our eyes meet over the writhing motion of my hips. Without blinking, he licks at my clit in a perfect rhythm of passion as he pushes his finger into me. “Ahh. Oh, God. Yes.” Adding another, he plunges into and pulls out of me, never moving his mouth.

Fire races across my skin. A kaleidoscope of bright colors flashes behind my tightly closed eyes. And then it all stops. “Eyes on me, baby. Watch me make you come. Watch me take you over the edge. Let me watch you fall.”

And then he pushes me to the brink again. His mouth, his fingers, his words, they’re all too much to hold in. Cresting, the wave of my orgasm crashes over me, pulling me into the deepest recesses of passion. His fingers curl inside me, drawing another surge of pleasure out of my body. Boneless and replete, I don’t even notice him moving to lie at my side. With his fingers lazily moving in me, he lets me come down from my high. Kissing my neck, and nuzzling against me, he whispers, “Beautiful. Everything about the way you come is beautiful and I can’t wait to do it again and again and again.”

Fumbling under the pillow, he pulls out the condom. We shift so that we’re both facing each other on our sides. “And now it’s time to take care of you,” I murmur, moving my lips against his chest.

He pushes into my hand, the drops of moisture making him glide effortlessly in my palm. Making a move to push him on his back, he stops me. “If you do any more than what you’re already doing, I’ll embarrass myself.” Ripping the condom open with his teeth, he pulls it from the wrapper. “Let me make love to you now so I don’t look like a fool, coming in your hand in a matter of seconds.”

Nodding at his request, I take the condom from him. Rolling it over his length, my need amplifies. Knowing that he’ll be inside me, pulling me into oblivion with him renders me speechless.

Looming over me, he kneels between my legs, his sheathed cock bobbing under its own weight. He lowers himself to his elbows, resting one on each side of my head. “I’ve lost myself to the fantasy of having you so many times, I started to believe it would never actually happen. And now that we’re here, with you beneath me, I feel like if I close my eyes, it’ll all vanish. Like this is some kind of dream and if I blink, it’ll all be over.”

“It’s not,” I promise, cradling his jaw in my hand. “I’m right here with you. Feel me. Take me. I’m yours.” Leaning forward, he pushes into me, filling me. “Oh, hell,” I cry out. “My God. David,” I cry his name.

Rocking back and forth, he works into me, inch by inch until he’s buried deep inside. With my legs wrapped around his waist, I’m shaking as my orgasm rushes into me. Clawing at his back, I thrust up onto him. “I’m gonna come again. My God. David, I’m coming.”

“Come on me, baby,” he coos into my ear. “Take what you need from me.” Lost to the rhythm of my hips, I come wildly, unable to control anything. The waves of pleasure never subside, as he continues to move through them. Plunging into me, he holds me in his arms. There’s no space between us, no room for anything but our desire.

Angling back slightly, he pulls my nipple into his mouth. Arching into his lips, he smiles around my skin. Moving a hand down my stomach and further still, he circles my clit with his fingers. “I can’t. Oh God, David, please. I can’t. It’s too much.”

Despite my begging, he doesn’t stop. And it is too much, but in the most perfect way. He pushes further and further into me, hitting that spot deep inside that makes me writhe under him. My nipple in his mouth. His fingers on my clit.

“Come again, baby. I need you to come one more time. Please,” he begs, letting my nipple fall from his mouth. And I fall beautifully, over the precipice into some deep abyss from which I never want to be rescued.

“Perfect, baby,” he groans, burying his face into my neck. “So goddamn perfect.”

His movements become more erratic, less fluid. He swells, pulsating against my still spasming core. “Grace.” He groans, rocking into me hard. “Oh, fuck, baby. I can’t . . .”

“Then don’t,” I murmur into his ear. “Fall with me.”

And he does, in a wildly passionate flash of need. On a final plunge, he calls out my name and falls on top of me, capturing me in his strong arms. Before I can even catch my breath, he’s rolling over, away from me. Barely able to open my eyes, I can only assume he’s taking care of the condom.

The bed shifts under his weight. His body curls around mine, covering me in his sweet warmth. Then there’s a blanket over us. I’m wrapped in his strong arms and the soft fabric of a quilt. “Sleep, baby.” He kisses my temple, trailing his fingers down my spine. Drifting off, all I remember are his softly whispered words dancing against my skin, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You’re fidgeting. Nervous?” Grace threads her fingers through mine as we wait on the train platform.

Scanning the approaching track for the millionth time, I lie, “No. Not at all. What would make you think I’m nervous?”

“Mainly that if I let go of this hand,”—she holds up our joined hands, leveling me with a playfully hard stare—“you’d bite this nail until there was nothing left.” Keeping up her mock stern face, she quirks an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to say something.

Pulling us to the bench, we sit, our hands still laced together. “I’ve never done this before,” I admit, keeping my eyes focused on hers. Her face contorts in confusion and whether it’s because her coffee hasn’t kicked in yet, or it’s already closing in on ninety degrees at nine in the morning, she’s not picking up what I’m trying to say.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need more than that.” Patting the top of my hand, she laughs at me.

“This,” I huff. “Meeting the parents.”

Her laughter continues through my words. “Really? You already know them. Why would you be nervous?”

“The last time I saw them was eighteen years ago. And you weren’t my girlfriend and we weren’t sleeping together.” Abruptly, I stand from the bench as the train approaches the platform.

“Just don’t lead with ‘I screwed your daughter six ways to Sunday this past weekend and twice last night’ and you should make a fine impression.” Stretching up on her toes, she kisses my cheek as the train comes to a stop.

Great. Thirty seconds away from meeting her parents and all I can think about is how I had Grace bent over the edge of my couch last night.

Shaking away those thoughts as best as I can, I stand beside Grace as we wait for her parents to step off the train. Grace figured it would be easier for them to take the train out to Long Island rather than into Manhattan and then out here. At least that’s what she told them. Mostly it had to do with her not wanting to leave my apartment to meet her parents in the city.

“There they are!” Grace squeals at my side, jumping up and down. As her parents approach, she runs to them, wrapping her arms around both at the same time. Walking up behind her, I catch the tail end of her telling her father to be nice to me.

Fantastic!

“Mom, Dad, you remember David.” Extending her hand, she pulls me to her side. “David, my parents.” For someone who just told her father to play nice, she’s being awfully calm.

“Mr. and Mrs. McCann. It’s so nice to see you again,” I greet them, keeping my voice as confident as possible. Extending my hand to Mrs. McCann, she looks down at it as if it’s some foreign object.

Pushing it to the side, Mrs. McCann wraps her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. “It really is you,” she says as she pulls away. “When Gracie told me she was seeing you, part of me just didn’t believe it. But here you are. And please, call me Meredith. None of this Mrs. McCann stuff. Isn’t that right, Walt?” Turning to her husband, she’s met with a warm smile.

“I didn’t believe it either,” he says as he pumps my hand. “I mean what are the chances?”

“Some things are just meant to work out how they work out,” Grace chimes in.

“Exactly,” Meredith responds. “Now, let’s get a move on. We have an apartment to hunt for.”

Three hours later, we’re at our final stop of the day. Wanting to live close to her new school district, but not within it, Grace kept her list of potential apartments to the towns surrounding Commack. The first two we see are absolute dumps, and Walter and I bond over making a laundry list of damages that would need to be repaired before she even stepped foot into the place.

As we pull into the lot of the final stop, it’s clear to see this complex is well-maintained. The grounds are freshly mowed and actually green—not the mix of browns and beiges like the last place. There are brightly colored flowers planted all over. I can see it in Grace’s eyes—she’s already in love with it.

The complex manager, Danny, greets us outside his office and guides us through the rental. “This is an end unit, so there’s a bit more room in this one than the others,” he explains as he opens the door.

“Holy closets!” Grace calls out as she steps in the entryway. “This is huge!”

“And it’s only the coat closet. Wait till you see the ones in the bedrooms.” Stepping through the entryway, Danny explains how each unit comes equipped with its own alarm.

“That’s connected to the smoke and carbon monoxide detectors, right?” I ask, wanting to make sure all of the bases are covered.

“Yes, sir,” he answers, giving us a few more details about the system. Walter listens on with me, seemingly proud that I’ve been on top of all the safety features of the apartments we’ve seen so far. I’m not doing it to impress him—well, not entirely. It’s just part of who I am. Besides, I’d do pretty much anything to keep Grace out of harm’s way. This is just one small thing I can do to make sure that she’s as safe as possible when I’m not around.

“Wait a second, did you say bedrooms? As in plural?” Grace asks, excitement vibrating around her. “And the price is what we discussed on the phone?” she clarifies.

“Yes, ma’am,” Danny declares. “I must have left that out when we spoke. Is that a problem?”

“A two bedroom, with closets likes these, in this location, in my budget?” she asks, sarcasm hanging on every word. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect! Where do I sign?”

“But you haven’t seen the rest of the place, sweetie,” Meredith chimes in.

“Did you hear what he said? Two.” Grace holds up two fingers wiggling them back and forth. “There are two bedrooms. I’m sold.”

“There’s no stopping her now,” Walter explains to me as Grace hugs Meredith. “Once she sets her mind on something, she wants it yesterday.”

“As long as she’s happy,” I add, watching her bounce up and down excitedly.

“Okay, then,” Danny says. “Let’s get back to the office and sign some papers. The place can be yours on the fifteenth.”

With her parents walking in front of us, Grace stretches up and whispers in my ear, “I can’t wait to christen every single room in my new apartment with you.”

Stopping outside the office door, I tell her, “Yeah, I think I’ll wait over here for a minute and get this hard-on under control. Thanks for that.”

“No problem. What’s a girlfriend good for if she can’t get her man all hot and bothered?”

There’s a bench situated next to the office which is in the middle of the small courtyard. It doesn’t take too long for my, um, excitement to go away. But sitting here, I can’t help but think about how crazy this all is. Some people might say six weeks is too soon to know how you feel about another person. I mean how much can you really get to know someone in such a short period of time? But with Grace, it’s different somehow. Maybe it takes other people so much longer because they’re too busy hiding behind layers of the person they think they want you to be. I can’t speak for her, but I know for me I’ve felt a connection to her through the years. Never real or tangible, but always present and alive, there was some force bringing us to this point.

“All set, Mr. Sexy Fireman.” She struts over to me with a huge-ass smile on her face, explaining that pending the background check and some other paperwork, she should be able to move in on the fifteenth. Her parents follow behind, similar huge smiles on their faces as well.

“We’re very proud of you, Gracie Girl.” Walter squeezes Grace’s shoulder, giving her a huge hug. “The perfect job. A great first apartment. A good guy. You’ve done mighty fine for yourself.”

“Thanks, Dad. That means a lot coming from you.” Grace beams with pride.

“And to show you how proud we are, your mother and I have a little surprise for you.” Walter angles his head to Meredith and she begins fishing through her bag.

Eerily similar to the way her daughter just did, Meredith dangles a pair of keys from her fingers. “And now that you have an address, we know where we can have your new car delivered. We love you.”

“Oh, my God! You guys, this is too much. I can’t.” Grace’s attempt to refuse the gift is quickly shot down as her mom shoves the keys into her hand.

They hug some more. Grace and her mom cry. And despite feeling like I’m intruding on a family moment, I can’t help but feel proud of Grace as well.

A few hours later, after dinner and more hugs and tears at the train station, we say goodbye to Grace’s parents. As we walk back to my car, Grace has a satisfied look on her face.

“What’s up with you?” I ask, bumping my shoulder into hers.

“Just happy I guess. Weird how everything is falling into place, you know.” We walk to her door, and I open it for her. “Like this.” She pauses, looking down at my hand on the open door. “I have a man opening car doors for me,” she gushes. “It’s just I never thought my life would fall into place so easily and it’s kind of overwhelming.”

“In a good way, right?”

“In the best way possible,” she assures me, popping a kiss to my cheek. “It’s every happily ever after I ever could have imagined all rolled into one.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I challenge and she looks up at me confused. Wrapping her in my arms, I explain, “This is only just the beginning.”

“How many boxes of books does this chick—I mean, Grace. How many boxes of books does Grace have?” Ian grunts, hauling what should be the last of the boxes from the U-Haul truck and into Grace’s new apartment.

“Quit your bitchin’ or else no beer and pizza for you.” Pushing the door open, the cold air from the apartment blasts in my face. “Damn that feels good. It’s a fuckin’ heatwave out there.”

“What was that about bitchin’?” Ian jokes, dropping his box to the living room floor.

As I’m wiping the sweat from my face with my shirt, a loud whistle fills the room. “Well hot damn!” Jade calls out. “Gracie my girl, you hit the lottery with this one!”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Ian jokes, taking one of the beers from her hands.

Jade shrugs, seemingly unaffected by her recent break up. Grace told me about it the other day. Apparently Bryce, this guy she’s been after for months, ended up being a self-involved douche bag. Apparently for some people, having a shit ton of money means you can treat other people like they’re not important. In the short time I’ve known her, Jade is not the type of woman to put up with a guy like that. So she dumped him.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on. Besides, I don’t have time for a man who doesn’t appreciate this kind of awesomeness.” Twirling around, Jade puts herself on display and I see Ian checking her out.

Jade hands me the other beer, whispering, “He’s single, right?”

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts needed. Just wondering,” she dismisses whatever warning I was about to give her. “Oh, Ian,” she beckons. “Would you mind helping me in here with something?” Crooking her finger, she calls him down the hall where the bedrooms are. Needless to say, Ian follows behind her like a dog with a bone. Chugging down my beer, I try not to think about the two of them. It’s too hot and I’m too thirsty to keep my mind on anything but finishing the beer.

“What are they up to?” Grace asks, walking into the living room. Wearing those bright yellow cleaning gloves and a pair of cut-off shorts and a tank top, she still looks damn hot. With her hair piled high on top of her head, all I can think about it letting it loose and tangling my hands in it.

“Who the hell knows? But with the two of them, I’m sure once they figure it out the whole world will know about it.”

“So what do you think?” she asks, walking me into the kitchen. Spanning her arms to the side, she stands in front of me. “Squeaky clean, huh?” Dropping my empty beer into the trash, I let out a whistle.

Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I nuzzle into her neck. “I think it looks clean enough for all the takeout in the world.”

She elbows me in the side before spinning in my arms. “Shut up!” she defends. “I can cook my ass off.”

Digging my fingers into said ass, I stare down into her sparkling blue eyes. “This ass?” I question on a squeeze. She nods, swallowing hard. “I like this ass,” I whisper into her ear, loving the fact that she pushes into my groin. “But I’m not buying the whole cooking thing. You’ll need to prove that to me, Miss McCann,” I joke, dancing kisses along her jaw.

“Fine,” she sighs, stretching her neck to the side, letting my lips move wherever they please. “I’ll prove it to you, but . . .” Her words die out as my teeth sink into her earlobe. Licking over the bite, she groans and her body melts against mine.

“But what?” I kiss behind her ear. Pulling away from her, she moans.

“What?” A dazed and heated look falls on her face.

“You said you’d prove it to me, and then you said but, and then you just stopped talking.” Arching a brow, I can’t wait to see what she comes up with.

“Oh, um. Yeah, your tongue made me forget,” she admits, a touch of pink coloring her cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I pull her tighter in my arms, letting my lips move against her ear. “I haven’t even had a chance to prove to you all my tongue is capable of.”

“Ahem,” Ian calls out from the opening separating the kitchen from the living room. “Are we interrupting?”

“Yes,” I lament, shooting him an annoyed look.

Walking into the kitchen, he goes to the fridge and pulls out two more beers. “Oh, good.” He laughs, twisting the top off one and handing it to me. He opens the other and takes a long pull on it.

Totally ignoring the fact he’s being a jerk, Grace hands him a stack of takeout menus. “Whatever you want,” she offers. Ian’s face lights up, a sexual innuendo on the horizon. “From these.” Shaking the papers, she brings his attention to them. “For dinner. As a thank you for helping.” Looping one arm around Ian’s waist and the other around mine, she adds, “Seriously, thank you both so much for everything. My parents were busy with work this week and if it weren’t for you two, I would have had to do it all myself.”

“Hey,” Jade calls out, offended. “I would have helped.”

Grace laughs. “You carried the box of pillows.” She calls Jade out on her lack of effort in the actual moving.

“I would have called a moving company. You know where a bunch of hot men come in a haul everything for you, but”—she tips her chin at me and Ian—“since you already found some muscle, I didn’t have to do anything. You did my job for me.” Her simple yet ridiculous explanation is met with loud laughter from Grace.

After a few more minutes of laying into Jade for her help, we all decide on pizza for dinner. Even though they have delivery, I offer to pick it up, Ian joining me for the ride.

“I was wrong,” he admits quite bluntly as soon as I’m buckled in.

“What?” I turn in my seat, not entirely sure I understand what he’s getting at.

“The other day. I laid into you about being so serious with Grace. I was wrong.” His honesty and realness catches me off guard. “Guess it hit a little too close to home for me.”

“Okay,” I answer, still a touch skeptical.

“And I guess I’m just trying to apologize for being a shit lately. The crude comments, the sarcastic digs. It’s me being in a shitty place.”

“Yeah, but without the comments and digs, no one would know it’s you.”

“This is true.” He scratches his chin, considering my remark. “Yeah, you’re right,” he jokes, proud of himself.

“Asshole.” Starting the car, I laugh at him because despite being an asshole, and making a handful of comments about me and Grace being too serious too quickly, he is my best friend.

“This is also true.” With smugness on his face, he looks out the window laughing.

“So are we good on the girly feelings and shit?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road.

He nods, silently answering me as he turns up the radio.

And with that, all is well.

“Good pizza. Great friends. A new apartment,” Grace announces, crumpling up the last of the garbage from dinner. “What more could a girl ask for?”

“Don’t forget the champagne,” Jade adds with a touch of a slur in her voice, raising her glass.

“Yes, and the champagne. Courtesy of my ever-thoughtful boyfriend” Grace says, slurring a bit herself before yawning. “Man, am I exhausted.”

“Me, too.” Jade stands, stretching theatrically. “And I’d stay and help you unpack. Really I would. But I have work in the morning. And there’s a train in like twenty minutes so I should get going.”

“I’ll drive you back,” Ian chimes in, nearly jumping from his seat on the couch.

Jade agrees all too easily and again Grace and I are left standing there dumbfounded about our two friends.

Standing by the door, I watch Ian close Jade’s door behind her. His face is lit up like a kid on Christmas, but he simply shrugs at me, before sliding into the driver’s seat.

When I close the door, and turn back into the living room, Grace’s eyes are hooded. She’s looking me up and down as she struts over to me. “You mentioned something before about this magic tongue of yours.” Her words, seductive as all hell, send a rippling force of need over my exhausted body. She pushes me up against the door, trapping me between it and her soft, lush body. “But we both know I’ve already experienced your tongue more than a few times. I think it’s time I show you what my tongue,” stretching up, she licks a hot path along my neck, “and lips,” she kisses along my jaw, “and hands,” reaching down, she palms my dick through my shorts, eliciting a low groan, “can do when they all work together.”

“Grace,” I protest. “You don’t–”

“What?” She pulls away, insulted. “You don’t want me to?”

“No that’s not what I meant, at all. It’s just what happ–”

Cutting me off, she attacks my mouth with hers, stopping the rest of my words before they can even fall from my mouth. “What happened with that asshole is not what’s happening with us.” Her voice, so strong and assertive, lets me know not to fight this.

Shaking my head, I realize I may be the only man in the history of men to ever say, “You don’t have to,” to an offer on a blow job.

Her fingers work at the button and fly of my shorts as her lips work against my neck. Growing impossibly hard, my body aches for her touch, but she doesn’t give it to me. “Gracie,” I beg as her tongue traces heated lines up and down my neck.

“What?” she teases, running her hands under my shirt. Lifting it up over my head, she tosses it to the floor.

Grinding my dick into her hip, I pull her body hard against mine. “You know damn well what,” I mutter into her ear.

“Oh, so then you’ve changed your mind.” Arching a brow, she looks up at me, mischief dancing in her eyes.

Holding her face in my hands, I stroke my thumbs over her jaw. “I never didn’t want it. I only wanted to make sure you were ready.” Our mouths come together in a soft, passionate kiss before I add, “And I’m also an ass.”

She laughs, slapping a hand to my bare chest. “Yes, you are. But you’re my ass.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that.”

“What? Being called an ass?” she jokes.

“No.” I kiss her once more. “Being called yours.”

Her lips pull up at the corners and I’m gifted with a warm, beautiful smile. Lacing her fingers with mine, she pulls us away from the door, down the hall, and into her bedroom. It’s a mess, boxes tossed all over the place and clothes sitting in piles on every surface imaginable. Her mattress is sitting on the frame, a sheet loosely draped over it.