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My body tenses and quivers with the force of my release, and I see stars all right.
He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, not until I collapse onto the bed, spent and utterly out of breath. Only then does he crawl up my body, those blue eyes locked on mine, a smug grin on his lips.
“Seems like you can also get used to being pampered, huh? Think you can handle another round?”
I catch my breath, my chest rapidly rising and falling. It’s true my body is still quivering from that mind-blowing orgasm, but I’m nothing if not resilient. And my pride is coming back in full stride, so it’s time to show him I’m not about to let him be the only one driving the other wild with desire.
My turn, Navy SEAL. Then we’ll see who can handle another round. I tease. I don’t waste any time slipping out from underneath him and pushing him onto his back. I trail my hands down his chest, feeling the defined muscles under my fingertips, loving every inch of him. He's built like a Greek god, and I'm here for it.
With a playful glint in my eye, I grab the towel already starting to slip from his waist, and pull it off with one swift tug. His cock is on full display, stiff and throbbing in anticipation, a droplet of precum oozing from the swollen head. The way it glistens in the dim light makes my mouth water.
I take him in my hand, starting to stroke him at a slow and steady pace. Grayson's breath hitches, his cock tensing and twitching against my palm.
"Look at you, all out of breath already." I echo his usual smug smirk. Before he can come up with some clever reply, I lean in and take him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his girth.
I'm more than a little bit satisfied when this leaves him wordless. He's not the only one with a magic touch. I begin bobbing my head up and down his shaft, setting a steady pace. He groans out loud, his hands tangling in my hair, but the instant he tries to begin guiding me with gentle pressure, I press my lips around his cock, making sure he gets that I'm in control now.
I take him deeper, sucking and licking with fervor, determined to show him I can blow his mind too.
"Don't... fuck, don't you dare stop." His voice trembles, and I decide I want to hear him do that all over again. So I pick up the pace, swirling my tongue around his sensitive tip, feeling him twitch harder while still inside my mouth. "Tyley!"
The way he utters my name, the way his body tenses underneath my touch, it's almost as delicious, as exquisite as feeling him between my legs.
With a primal groan, he releases, his hot seed spilling onto my tongue. I swallow every drop, savoring the taste of him, the way he moans and grunts as I make him come. By the time I release him, it's Grayson's turn to pant, his chest falling and rising just like mine did minutes ago.
"Damn, Ty," he manages to pant, and I'd be lying if I claimed his praise didn't stir something inside me. I shot Grayson a triumphant grin, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before curling up to him. “You’re pretty damn proud of yourself, aren’t you?”
Grayson pulls me closer to him, and I rest my head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart, feeling the heat of his skin against mine. I close my eyes, letting that gentle sound lull me into sleep.
The morning light through the curtains casts a soft glow over the room. I've been awake for the better part of ten minutes now, and my head must have gotten all scrambled up by having mind-blowing sex because I can't stop staring at this guy.
It's like I'm hypnotized, and honestly? It feels good. Part of me is thrilled by the intense connection we shared, the raw passion that ignited between us. But another part of me is scared, wary of where this unexpected turn in our phony relationship might lead. It's so tempting to stop fighting the urge to just fall for Grayson already, to let myself fall in love.
He's so peaceful and so handsome lying there, his broad chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His features are relaxed in sleep, his lips slightly parted, and the stubble on his jawline adds a rugged charm I can't get enough of. The tattoos peeking out from under the sheets hint at stories I'm looking forward to discovering.
I can't help but reach out and trace the contours of his face, marveling at those sharp planes and angles, his skin warm and smooth. Watching him lying here, vulnerable in a strange sort of way, stirs within me a tenderness that catches me by surprise.
With a final lingering gaze, I lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips, wanting to hold onto this feeling of intimacy.
"I'm sorry you got wrapped up in all of my mess," I whisper, but he's still fast asleep, and it's better this way. "I'm going to solve it. I'm sure I can find a way of speaking some sense into Adam."
Is that just wishful thinking? Do I want to believe that I couldn't have misjudged Adam so badly to cling to the idea that my feelings for Grayson aren't just another huge mistake? I’m not sure one way or another.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” I tell myself as I pick up the phone and begin texting Adam. Warning sirens are blasting in my head, but I still hit send. Maybe I can fix this, and if I can’t, well, then I’ll have to deal with the fact that I chose a guy exactly like my dad—and make sure I never make that mistake again.
fifteen
Tyley
Meeting with Adam was a disaster, just as I predicted. The astonishing part is that I’m actually surprised—no, not just surprised. I’m pissed at this revelation that everyone else on earth could have seen coming.
Dad’s long gone now, but maybe it wasn't too late for Adam—that’s what I’d figured. Or maybe I just wanted to find proof that I hadn’t followed my mother’s horrible taste in men. Unfortunately, this meeting had proved the exact opposite. I was trying to fix my childhood with some random bully who didn’t deserve my concern or attention.
I feel drained and frustrated as I make my way into Grayson's home, dropping my purse on the counter with a long sigh.
"Gray?" I call out, but there's no answer. Maybe he's not home, or perhaps he's downstairs, training in the gym with his headphones on.
Picking up my phone, I begin typing a message to check if he's coming home for dinner. After what he had to put up with at his fight last night, I want to cook him something special to improve his mood. I know I'm not to blame for my ex's stupid behavior, but I still feel responsible for dragging this whole mess into his life. But when I walk into his bedroom, or rather the bedroom we've been sharing for over a week now, I'm startled to see him sitting on the bed, waiting for me in dead silence.
