But all that gaze does is shift to my breasts, which are right in front of his face. “Didn’t get to enjoy these as much as I’d like,” he says quietly, kissing the curve of each one before extricating himself from me.
“Maybe I’ll give you another opportunity.”
He glances down at me, star-fished out on the bed. With a knowing hitch in his cheek, he says, “No need to include the maybe.”
I should have some witty reply, but I don’t, because he’s right.
He’s about to have plenty more opportunities—endlessopportunities.
Until you leave.
No—ifI leave.
Because now, returning to the city,leavingGarnet Shores,is no longer my only realistic option.
And when a gloriously naked, half-hard Grayson returns from the bathroom with a damp washcloth and proceeds to wordlessly clean between my thighs, I let myself lean in to the possibility of staying here, even though I haven’t made up my mind, haven’t evenstartedto unpack the pros and cons and long-term outlooks of each potential path.
Grayson closes the lights, rejoins me in bed, and tugs me back to curl around me, and my brain turns into straight-up happy mush as he kisses the back of my neck and says, “For the record, Eliza, I love every single word that comes out of that smart mouth.”
29
GRAYSON
I waketo the revelation that Eliza is a koala.
A soft, warm, cuddly-as-hell koala who smells like flowers and sex, and snores quietly like a kitten.
I’m lying on my back, the entire left side of my body immobile. She’s wrapped around me, one leg hitched high over my abs, half her chest pressed into mine as her head rests on my shoulder and nuzzles into my neck. Her arm locks her in, wrapped tight across my torso.
Warm affection settles into my chest, along with pride and wonder that I get the privilege of witnessing this side of her. Eliza Attleburn may be a strong-willed, independent woman, but she’s a goddamn sweetheart with a thousand soft layers beneath that sharp-witted shell.
I’ve seen glimpses of those layers before, but usually when she’s hurting or distressed.
This isn’t one of those instances. It’s freely given.
And it feels like a gift.
One I’d like to continue enjoying for the rest of the morning, but dawn is coloring the sky outside the window, and it’s busy season. Part of me is tempted to sayto hell withit alland soak in the feel, therightness,of her in my arms, but I can’t throw work to the wayside. I’m the fucking farm owner. Responsibilities don’t take a day off. Problems don’t magically disappear.
Doesn’t mean you can’t put them off for a few more minutes.
Eliza’s thigh shifts, dropping closer to my up-and-ready dick, and I decidethatlogic’s fucking flawless.
I take my free hand and drag it down her back, reveling in her toned curves and soft, bed-warmed skin. I was too fired up last night to take my time and savor it all. Then I was too spent from a grueling few days of work and the best sex of my life to start up a second round and do it justice.
Now that I’ve taken the edge off and slept, it’s a new playing field.
I cup one round ass cheek and lightly squeeze. Her face nuzzles further into my neck. Fingers splayed wide, I caress that perfect globe, sweeping close to her pussy before making another pass. This time, her hips shift, pressing into me.
My cock hardens all the way.
I repeat the cycle, dragging my fingers close to her heat, then grabbing a palmful of ass, coaxing her awake. With every second, the sleepy rhythm of her breathing changes, growing stuttered. Aroused. Her fingers curl into my skin.
When her hips suddenly shift to bring her closer to my fingers, I’m certain she’s awake. Still, I softly ask, “You with me, gorgeous?”
She nods against me.
So on my next pass, I stop teasing us both and dip my fingers right into that tight little spot to find her dripping.That’s my girl.
