At last, we arrive at our destination and I realize—we’re hiking up to the Hollywood sign.
I can’t think of anything more perfect to do on our first official night together. He puts the car in park and rushes to open my door for me. He then opens the trunk and pulls out two backpacks, the lighter of which he hands to me.
“You, beautiful, are in charge of the blanket,” he says, flashing that devastating grin I love. “You just let me worry about the rest.”
I don’t think I could stop smiling even if I tried, because it’s bold and iconic. Just like him.
The hike is quiet but charged, our hands brushing every few steps, the whole distance taking us about an hour. When we reach the top and the letters of the sign tower over us, the view takes my breath away. It’s indescribable—it feels as if we hiked to the ends of the earth and can now see the entirety of the massive city in one fell swoop as the lights of the life below us twinkle in the distance.
Once we find a spot to set up, I take the blanket out of the backpack and connect the portable speaker to my phone. As I get situated, Grayson unzips his backpack and begins unloading all sorts of delicious looking food and a bottle of white wine. He pulls a wine key from the pocket of his gray cargo shorts and uncorks the bottle with ease, pouring us each a glass.
“Cheers,” he says. “To us, and to your first official night in LA.”
Our glasses clink and I take a sip from mine, grateful for the cool burst of citrus after the hike. Grayson drains half of his before setting it aside—like he’s got more important things to taste. As soon as his glass hits the ground, he moves across the blanket with his dark, broody eyes locked on mine.
He’s in my space, one hand slipping into my hair while the other arm sneaks around my waist and pulls me against him.
“Hi,” he smirks, his face just centimeters away from mine.
His lips brush against mine with a teasing hesitation and a little tug on my hair. But then his lips crash into mine—hot, demanding, like he’s starving and I’m the only thing that’s ever satisfied him. My body ignites on contact, every nerve in my body sparking as I melt into him. I gasp as he nips at the bottom of my lip before his tongue plunges into my mouth like he owns it. Feeling my already-racing heart push into overdrive as I whimper into his mouth, the world around us is completely erased.
“God, I’ve been thinking about this all fucking day,” he murmurs against my ear, as if he’s reading my mind. “The way you sound when I touch you… the way you taste on my fingers… I could lose my goddamn mind over you.”
His words land like a lightning strike in my core, and I moan a little louder than I intend to as he trails kisses down my jaw, landing at the base of my neck. My body responds instantly, feeling my nipples tighten underneath my shirt and the wetness filling my panties.
He hasn’t been the only one losing his mind waiting for our next moment alone together. I’ve been craving his touch since this morning in his bed. I haven’t stopped thinking about it, not even for a second.
He runs his hands underneath the thin fabric of my white cotton shirt to feel the fullness of my breasts, and I love the way his warm, calloused palms feel against the softness of my skin.
I try to banish the voice of my ever-present subconscious reminding me how long it’s been since I’d let anyone in like this. But with Grayson, none of that fear matters. Before him, I didn’t think I’d want anyone close again.
But now? I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.
“You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart,” he whispers huskily. “It takes all the self control I have not to gethard the minute you walk into a room. Touching you like this?Fuck. I’m trying to be good, baby. I swear to God, I am.”
I feel the warmth of his breath against me, sending shivers down my spine as his fingers continue to get tangled in my hair and his lips find mine again. He kisses me like he can’t get deep enough, can’t stop even if he wanted to—andGod, I don’t want him to.
“Maybe I don’t want you to be good,” I say breathily—because it’s true, Idon’twant him to behave.
I want him to take me right here in the middle of this fucking park.
The lights below cast an iridescent glow against the night, but all I can see, all I can feel, is him.
I practically crawl into his lap, straddling him without hesitation. Wrapping my legs around his waist and pressing down to feel the thick, hard length of him beneath my black Nike shorts, my fingers thread their way into the dark waves of his hair.
He was in charge for our first night together in Dallas, but I want to be the one in control this time. I rock my hips, slowly at first, testing, teasing—and the way he groans into my mouth makes me want to forget about control and lose it all right here.
Grayson’s hands trail down my arms, slow and intentional. His touch leaves a trail of fire on my skin, leaving behind a warmth that settles deep within me. He slips one hand into the lining of my shorts and brushes his knuckles against the soaked fabric.
“Christ, Mia,” he growls, the possessiveness dripping from his voice. “You’re fucking soaked for me.”
I cry out, shameless, needy, not a care in the world about how loud I am as he presses his thumb against my clit with perfect pressure and moves in slow, intentional circles. I lean in,pressing myself down further onto his hand and letting my teeth tug on his bottom lip—just enough to make him lose it a little.
“I want to touch you,” I whisper as I pull back to look him in the eye. “I want to make you feel good, too.”
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathes. “You don’t have to ask.”
Sliding my hand between us and slipping it past the waistband of his shorts, he sucks in a breath as I wrap my fingers around him and stroke—slow, firm,intentional.He’s thick and hot, pulsating in my hand, and the sound he makes when I run my thumb over the tip of his cock goes straight to the vault of things I’ll never forget.
