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“You left,” I protest. “Grant, I don’t want you to just say what I want to hear.”
Grant cuts me off with another kiss, and this time his tongue is in my mouth, and my hands are up under the back of his shirt, spread over his bare skin. I know that there’s something here between us, a spark that I’ve never been able to ignore.
“I feel the same way,” says Grant. “I was scared when you told me. I panicked. But I'm not scared anymore, Ashley. Let me show you that.”
“Alright,” I say, giving in almost instantly. I shift a little bit, reaching up to undo his tie. The fabric flutters onto the mattress beside us, and then I’m working at the buttons on the front of his shirt, undoing them one by one. “Show me.”
His mouth curls into a smile. He pulls back, but only long enough to help strip me out of my gray top, revealing the white lace bra that I’m wearing beneath it. His mouth presses to the planes of my belly, and he works his way down, to the top of my black skinny jeans. Fingers catch in the button, he undoes it, and he works the fabric down over my hips, revealing matching white lace panties.
This is different from before. There’s nothing that we’re trying to prove. There’s no game going on and no secrets. It’s the two of us, here together; twisted, legs against legs, skin against skin. I push the shirt backwards, off his shoulders, and he gets up long enough to undo his belts and his pants, shoving them down.
Grant’s boxers follow suit. I lay there reveling at the sight of his tall, toned body and I quiver. He joins me on the bed again and then his fingers are between my legs. I’m perfectly wet as he stretches me open. It’s like he’s figured out all of the best ways to touch me overnight. There’s a sweetness in the action, a pressing, a pull. He’s taking his time as his palm grinds against my clit and soon I’m moaning with an open mouth, my cheeks so red it feels like they’re on fire.
And then his hand is gone, and his chiseled body is above me, looking down. He’s on his knees between my legs, spreading me open, preparing my pussy before his length is pressing up and crashing into me. The stretch of it burns, even though this is our second time joining together like this. Grant works himself fully into me and then stops, laying on top of me, pausing so I can catch my breath and adjust to the way that he’s stretched me open.
The burn isn’t as bad this time around and it doesn’t last as long. Soon the pleasure is over weighing the burning heat. “Grant,” I say, the name breathy on the tip of my tongue. “Grant, please—come here!”
He kisses me and rolls his hips slow, a testing thing, and when it has me gasping and rocking up into the touch, he’s quick to start up at a more steady pace. There’s the sound of flesh against flesh, the wet squelch of my own pussy. But I’m more focused on the way that his heart beats against me, the way that his eyes flutter as he grunts each time he presses fully into me.
Something is different.
Before, there had been secrets weighing us down. There had been something tainting the whole encounter. But this time around, there are no more secrets, no more lies, nothing left but this raw open space between us.
Sweat drips down onto my skin, and my hair is pressed and tangled around the curve of my neck. I reach up, touching as much of him as I can. My mouth crashes against his, and he meets me just as eagerly. Teeth nip at my lower lip, and he presses in harder, shifting so that his hand can join in on the mix.
His fingers massage over my clit, sending bolts of bright, hot fire rushing through me. I hook a leg around his waist, trying to pull him closer, trying to let him push me over the edge.
I want to cum while I’m looking at him. My eyes open, staring up at his face; my mouth parted as I try to pull in a steady breath. The orgasm crashes over me like a thunderclap, like a torrential downpour over top of me.
He makes to pull out, but I grab onto him, wanting him closer. Wanting to feel him. If our love is real, then it should all be real.
Breathless, he asks, “Are you sure?”
I nod, lost in a haze of my own orgasmic bliss. Grant pulls in a breath, and I can hear it hitching in his chest. Then he’s pounding into me harder than before, chasing after his own sweet relief—and when he cums inside of me, the rush of wet heat in my lower belly is enough to make me know for certain that he meant it.
He loves me, just as much as I love him.
Chapter twenty-three
Grant
Ratherthanjoineveryoneat the breakfast table, I wait for my brother just outside of the restaurant. “You look like you’re in a good mood,” I say, when he gets close. “Did you meet someone that great?”
“I’m in an excellent mood,” says Charlie, not elaborating on why. He asks me, “And what about you? Were you able to get your business sorted out?”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Yeah, I did. Thanks, Charlie.”
“Don’t thank me,” says Charlie. “You’re the one that fixed it.” He claps a hand on my shoulder. “And I’m about to make a huge scene.”
“Wait, what?” I try to catch my brother by the elbow, but he’s too quick. He ducks beneath my grasping hand and vanishes down the aisle into the restaurant proper. By the time I’ve caught up to him, he’s already at the table. He isn’t sitting down.
“Charlie,” asks Cheryl. “Is something wrong? Tell me that you boys aren’t fighting again.”
“We’re not fighting,” says Charlie. “But I have an announcement that I need to make, now. Before we get into the business for the day.”
Don frowns. “An announcement?”
“What’s going on?” Cheryl asks.
