Page 103
“I’m going to get this tattooed,” he said.
“No, don’t.” She giggled.
“Fine, but every time it fades, I’ll need a new one,” he said, pulling her onto his lap. She slotted over him, and even though she was sore, she opened her legs wide. He groaned, his tip at her entrance. “I need permanent Lucy scars on my outsides to show all the Lucy scars on my insides.”
“I can do that,” she said, smiling sweetly. Then she pushed onto his dick, and his eyes rolled back. She held on to his shoulders, and he gripped her ass from behind as she rode him, urging her forward but letting her fuck him as she liked.
“That’s it,” he said, voice ragged. “Good girl.”
As passionate as he was, Grayson was also very tender and soft with her, which Lucy was surprised to learn. He never left in the middle of the night; he always stayed till morning, when they would go at it again before getting ready for work together.
He kept that first photo of them as his phone background, even though, in the weeks that passed, they took tons more photos.
Grayson and Lucy went on lots of dates: The weather was getting lovelier, warmer, until the world was in true spring. They went to the farmers market and watched movies, and some days, they just stayed in bed, reading together.
The sex was truly fantastic. Lucy couldn’t get enough of it. She didn’t know how she had lasted this long without.
If she had known the sex would be this good, she wouldn’t have resisted her attraction to him for so long. Their bodies were tailor-made for one another. He knew exactly what she liked and how to give it to her, and she was the same for him.
He might have made her scream more, but it was clear she drove him just as wild. And he was always surprising her—exciting her—when she least expected it.
At work one day, he came up to her from behind and whispered in her ear, “Come fuck my face.”
She laughed, though her blood heated. “Excuse me!”
“Forgive me, where are my manners?” he said. “Come fuck my face, please.”
“I don’t know if you know this, but we are at work!” she said, incredulous, as she looked at the clock across the room from her.
“Come on, no one’s been in for hours, it’ll be fine,” he said, rubbing his cheek against hers. His coarse stubble scratched against her, and she imagined how it would feel rough between her legs.
“We can’t just leave!”
He slipped his hands under her skirt, tempting her, and she forgot what she was saying as his fingers skimmed up her inner thighs. She exclusively wore skirts and dresses to work now for this precise reason, and he took advantage of it, touching her every chance he got, making her face red and her heart quake.
“Come on,” he said, voice sweet.
His fingers played along her skin before he finally ran a finger over her underwear, just enough to make her ache but not deep enough to satisfy.
Desire pulsed through her, and he felt it.
“You know you want to,” he said, turning her around so she was facing him. He grabbed her from behind, squeezing her ass, and she bit her bottom lip hard. His eyes darkened. “Just stick a sign on the door that says be back in twenty.”
“Twenty?” She arched a brow.
“Baby, I bet you won’t last that long,” he said, annoyingly arrogant but unfortunately probably correct in this regard. Her vision grew splotchy.
In answer, she went to her tiptoes and kissed him. He angled his face, deepening the kiss. He groaned and squeezed her ass tighter, his other hand coming around her throat.
“Show me how wet you are for me,” he whispered, voice a command. She released a shuddering breath and spread her knees.
He moved his hand from her ass to the space between her legs. He ran two fingers along her damp underwear, humming against her mouth as he kissed her. She moaned into his mouth, riding his fingers.
She pulled away, catching her breath. “Let it be known you were always the one who lectured me on professionalism when you first got here.”
He laughed. “Well that was just ’cause I was trying to piss you off.”
Her mouth fell open with shock and outrage. His smile widened.
