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We should talk.
My core throbs as I grind down on the hardness beneath me, waves of pleasure shooting up my spine when he lets out a thick sound of approval. His thin sweatpants do little to hide his hard length, only seeming to make it harder to deny the primal need I feel.
We need to talk.
I squeak in surprise when he pushes up from the couch, his hands tightening on my hips as he lifts me with him. I wrap my thighs around him on impulse. I drag my lips from his and move them down his neck, kissing every inch of the sensitive skin as he moves us out of the dimly lit living room.
Maybe we can wait to talk.
My back hits the bed seconds before Tyler's hands start roaming my body. His touch is greedy, frantic, and all too addicting. When he reaches for the band of my leggings, his eyes meet mine, filled to the brim with an emotion I can’t decipher as he leans down to place an open-mouthed kiss on my collarbone. His fingers slide under my sweater, moving upward until my bra-covered breasts are held firmly in his hands.
"Relax," he coaxes, pushing my bra away, exposing my skin to his intoxicating touch.
“Tyler,” I sigh and he starts dragging my sweater up my chest, pushing it over my head and tossing it onto the floor. My back arches when he unclasps my bra and pulls it off. His eyes are stormy as they watch me writhe underneath him.
"Stop teasing me," I plead when he leans back and traces a finger across my damn panty covered slit.
“Patience has never been your thing, beautiful.” He has a smirk stretched across his swollen lips that I want to suck off.
He's right, it never has. But I don’t want to start being patient now. Not when the pulse between my legs is faster than the one in my chest.
No, I need him inside me right now.
"Can we talk now?" I murmur as we both fall from our highs. My chest rises rapidly and his warm breaths cause loose hairs to fall in my face. I have my head on his chest and he lays beneath me, hands resting at his sides as if he’s suddenly afraid to touch me.
"We should."
I nod and reluctantly push off his chest, instantly missing his warmth. "Well, what are we? Because I don't usually do what we just did with all my other guy friends."
"I fucking hope not," he growls, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me back to him, much to my pleasure.
"There would be no need to be jealous if you just made me your girlfriend, you know?" I tease, throwing him a wink that I hope doesn’t look as nervous as I feel. I don’t know why I said that.
He scowls at my joke but keeps his arm wrapped tightly around me anyway. "I don't know if I can do the whole girlfriend thing, Gray. I'm a shitty person in case you forgot. I don’t think I would treat you how you deserve to be treated.”
"Shut up. You're not a shitty person," I scold him. "You have a shitty attitude, sometimes sure, but you're a great person. You just do a good job of hiding it."
"Someone thinks they’re smart this morning."
"Don't be an ass hole.” I swat his chest but wear a small smile.
"I can't promise that I'll be a good boyfriend,” he sighs and shakes his head.
"Then we'll work on it together."
“You say that now,” he laughs, the sound empty of all emotion. “What about when I inevitably fuck everything up? I’m not reliable, Gracie. Between having to take care of my mother, and everything that comes with playing professional hockey, I can’t promise that you’ll be my first priority, as hard as I try to make you be.”
I know that this is hard for him. I understand that he must have enough emotional trauma to last far longer than a lifetime, but I want him to let me help him. I need him to let me help him.
I keep my voice quiet and my tone free of judgment. I’m terrified of spooking him with the pressure I’m dying to finally put on him to make a decision. I reach towards his face and turn it towards me, forcing him to look at me with guarded eyes. “How much longer are you going to fight this?”
He blinks slowly and his jaw tenses slightly in my hand before relaxing soon after. I grab the hand lying closest to me and bring it to my chest, pressing it flat against the bare skin between my breasts.
“Feel how hard my heart is beating,” I mutter, almost begging. “That’s for you. It’s been like that for years, but you never gave me the chance to tell you.”
There’s a subtle flex of his fingers against my skin and the air he’s been holding comes out in one big puff. His eyes are hooded, but for the first time in a year, I don’t see a speck of regret in them before he gently kisses the top of my head, lingering there.
“Okay, Gray. Okay.”
