When Grace slid inside, slowly and without resistance, Alix stopped touching herself. Grabbing at the mattress with both hands, Alix’s mouth dropped open.
“Deeper,” Alix groaned, eyes half-lidded when she looked up at Grace for the briefest moment before she closed them again.
Grace’s desire roared. Wrapping her arms around Alix’s strong thighs, she picked up her legs and rested them against her chest. She leaned forward, rocking Alix’s hips up to get in as deep as she could. “You’re taking it so well. Breathe. That’s a good girl.”
Moaning her encouragement, Alix trembled underneath her. With every shallow, slow thrust, Alix inched closer to the edge. Grace already knew her body well enough to know that. And this time, Grace had no intention of holding her there.
“Tell me you’re mine,” Grace demanded right before she pulled out completely, rubbing the strap against Alix’s clit. Letting it slide over her and making painfully insufficient contact.
“I’m yours, baby. I’m?—”
Grace thrust into her hard and deep, sending Alix arching off the bed.
“God. Yes. Do that again. Please.” Alix’s begging was on the edge of frantic, and nothing had ever sounded better.
Grace was happy to give her what she asked for. Over and over until every muscle in Grace’s body burned and she wasn’t sure whether she could continue without collapsing.
And then Alix’s fingers were digging into her back, and she panted a desperate, “I love you.”
Mustering every drop of energy and willpower she’d ever had, Grace maintained her punishing pace while Alix made good on her promise. Until she came hard and loud and only for her.
Chest burning like she’d run a fucking marathon, Grace crumpled onto the bed next to Alix.
“Grace,” Alix panted, eyes closed and chest heaving. “That’s it. I’m fucking moving to Miami.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
ALIX
Grace saton the counter wearing one of Alix’s old band tees — The Shrikes: Heart’s Content Tour 2017 — and Alix had to look away every few seconds just to keep breathing. The shirt was worn thin, but it looked different on Grace. Better. Like it had been waiting for her.
Alix should’ve felt triumphant with the hot lawyer in her kitchen, sunshine in her hair, this morning’s mind-blowingly good sex still buzzing in her bloodstream, but the whole thing made her heart ache in a way that was almost too much.
She pretended to focus on the tofu scramble in front of her. “Apparently, how you spend midnight and New Year’s Day sets the tone for your year,” she said, just to fill the silence.
Grace took a slow sip of coffee, eyes still a little sleepy. “Then I guess we’re in for a year of lots of sex.”
Alix laughed, too loud. “God, I hope so.”
It came out breezy, but inside she could feel the wobble. The small voice reminding her she’d once promised herself not to get too attached, not to start planning futures she couldn’t keep.
She flipped the tofu again, letting the sizzle drown out her thoughts. She’d added extra spices this time, things Connie swore by in her cookbook, and the smell alone almost made her proud.
Grace forked a bite from the pan. “Okay, this is… actually good.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Alix said.
“I’m serious.” Grace grinned. “You’re a whole domestic Goddess.”
Alix pointed the spatula at her. “Let’s not get carried away. I’m still the kind of person who eats chips for dinner.”
“Balance,” Grace said. “You’re thriving.”
They ate off mismatched plates on the counter, knees brushing. Sunlight filtered through the window, catching in Grace’s dark hair to highlight it golden, and Alix couldn’t stop thinking about how fast she could fall in love with this version of her life. How much she already was. It was terrifying.
Grace set her fork down after a while, her voice more restrained than usual. “So, I know you were like, sex-high, but… would you ever move?”
Alix froze mid-bite. Her first instinct was to joke —Yeah, sure, I’ll start packing— but she could feel that wasn’t what Grace was asking. She was asking if Alix could do something real. Something lasting.
