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“The stuff with Michael ends now…” he demands just before he starts to kiss me.
“Same with Lizzy,” I bite out, then I kiss him again.
His fingers dig into my hips.
“I already told Michael,” I admit, breathless. “Yesterday.”
You’d think this would make him happy to hear, but he doesn’t say a word.
There’s nothing to say. We’re playing make believe here. We’re pretending the only obstacles we have are Lizzy and Michael when we both know they were never really obstacles to begin with.
Grant kisses me again, sweeping my thoughts away as he gathers my dress in his fists. The sequins scrape my skin in a delicious contrast to his tender mouth.
I think he’s going to keep pulling it up until he gets it all the way off me. Instead, he pauses when the dress is bunched at my hips. Then he reaches for my panties and tugs on the satin. They slide down my hips then fall the rest of the way down to the ground to pool at my feet.
I feel absolutely bare even with my gown still in place on the top half of my body.
When Grant breaks our kiss and peels back far enough to prop his hand on the door beside my head, he looks down and taps the inside of my high heel with his dress shoe. The intent is clear and pompous and I want to protest, and yet I have no choice but to move my right foot a few inches over, spreading my legs. His handsome face stays in shadow. If he likes that I complied so easily, I can’t tell.
He’s focused down on his hand as he watches his fingers tiptoe up, only this time, there’s no satin separating him from my naked skin, nothing to stop him from sweeping his hand between my thighs and sliding his fingers through me. I arch my back, starting to shake with need. I want him to keep going so badly I hold my breath. His touch feels just as heady as it did out in the hallway, only this time I know I won’t last. My body tingles as he works me up, higher, tighter, closer to the edge, and only then does he finally begin to press his finger inside me. My jaw drops at the feel of him starting to pump it in and out, stretching me so decadently I think I might pass away from the sheer bliss of it. But it’s not enough. He’s incensed as he tugs my gown straps down off my shoulders, exposing my breasts. His nostrils flare. His eyes widen and then he bends, leaving open-mouthed kisses on my neck, collarbone…the center of my chest. I release a silent cry as his mouth closes over the tip of one breast, then the other.
Oh god.
I reach up to grip his shoulders, to secure myself to something as his finger works in and out of me, faster, hitting a deliciously wicked spot. I whimper and squeeze my eyes closed as my fingers dig into his shirt.
I drop my head back against the door with a heavy thunk and I know I’m in trouble.
“Show me,” Grant says, pleading. “Show me what it looks like. I’ve imagined doing this to you so many times. You have no idea, Tate. Night after night on the road, fisting myself as a poor substitute because I knew I couldn’t have you like this… I want you so badly.”
His words combined with the feeling of his hand between my thighs is almost too much. I have to bite my lip to keep from gasping.
Immediately, Grant tugs on my lip to release it from my teeth. “No. Let me hear it.”
Oh my gosh.
I want to push him to the ground, crawl up and over him, and grind down until we both lose our heads. I want to see him at a loss for words just like I am right now.
He starts to slip a second finger inside me when suddenly the front door of the apartment opens.
“Tate? You home?” Sophia calls out.
Keys clatter into the bowl near the front door.
“She’s probably asleep already,” Daphne adds.
“Does she work tomorrow? We were going to finish the second half of Aftersun. It’s a 24-hour rental.” Sophia’s voice grows louder as her footsteps approach my door. “Tate?”
Grant shakes his head no, but I ignore him.
“Yes?” I call out, just as Grant steps away from me. In the dark, he glares.
What did he want me to do? Hide out from my roommates? It doesn’t work like that in this shoebox of an apartment. Let’s say we tried to sneak around in here…if I flushed the toilet or turned on the sink, if I opened a drawer or even walked heavily, for that matter, they’d hear it. There’s no privacy here.
I would explain that to him if only he wasn’t looking at me like that. I fix the top of my gown and shift the bottom so my legs are covered again.
