Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
GRAYSON
F ucking Christ.
Adrenaline is coursing through me, still worked up. Damn, she gets me going. Something about that combination of innocence and seduction turns me on so fucking bad.
I glance down at my dick, debating what to do. This erection isn’t disappearing any time soon on its own, not with the way she got my blood pumping.
There’s the far off whisper of voices somewhere else in the house, but they’re not anywhere near here. I could just…
I unzip my pants and reach into my boxer briefs, silently groaning at the relief that floods me. Not that Abby riding my fingers wasn’t amazing, but I need a goddamned release.
Shutting my eyes, I brace myself against the bathroom counter, calling to mind Abby topless on me, begging me to keep sucking her with the sexy moans she was making. How is it that the girl blushes at the least provocation under normal circumstances, yet can do all this without a trace of self-consciousness?
I stroke myself, imagining it as her hand instead, the way she’d look up at me with that trusting gaze, maybe even dropping to her knees to suck me in her warm, wet—
The knock on the bathroom door has me jumping.
“Grayson?”
Thank God, it’s Abby. I don’t know what I’d do if my brother caught me in here masturbating.
“Yeah?” I choke out, still gripping my cock.
“They’re gone.”
“Okay, good.” One less thing to worry about.
“Can I come in?”
My dick twitches, desperately wanting to invite her in and have her take me in hand.
“I’m indecent,” I warn.
“Are you… taking care of yourself?”
I bite my lip, holding back a half-groan, half-laugh. “Yeah.”
There’s a long pause. “Can I help?”
Oh, fuck. She wants to do that? “Absolutely.”
I open the door for her and she slips inside, closing it behind her with a quiet click. Her gaze is transfixed on my dick, her eyes widening.
She looks up at my bare chest and steps closer, pressing a hand to my abdomen. I hold my breath as her hand drifts down, brushing over my arm, my wrist, my hand, until one finger trails over the length of me.
I suppress a groan, wanting more of her touch.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” she whispers, finally meeting my gaze.
There’s excitement in her honey-brown eyes, but beyond that also a nervousness she can’t fully hide. I won’t fault her, though. Like we said, this is a first for both of us. Kristen’s friends were always off-limits, but that was a decade ago, when we were teens.
Things are different now.
I take her fingers and wrap them around my cock, guiding her up and down my shaft. Her hold on me is soft, movements unsure.
“Rougher,” I tell her, leaning down to capture her lips with mine. “Faster.”
She picks up the pace, grip tighter.
“Yeah, like that.” Fuck, that feels good.
She’s unskilled but enthusiastic, kissing me back with passion, and I lose myself in her. My hips pump into her hand without conscious thought, and I cup her jaw with both my hands, tilting her head back. The intensity of our kiss deepens, and I let my tongue slip in, enjoying her soft sounds of delight.
Warmth rushes through me as she presses in closer, like she’s getting turned on again. There’s something about turning her on that fills me with a deep sense of satisfaction.
My hands travel down to her chest, squeezing a handful of her, and her rhythm falters for a moment before she continues. She’s so responsive when I touch her.
“Wait a second,” I tell her, releasing her grip from me so I can pick her up and place her on the bathroom counter. I take her top off then set her hand back on me, picking up the pace again.
Her chest is nearer to eye-level now, and I slowly slide her bra straps down, loving how her breath hitches, how she seems to unconsciously stick her chest out further.
My lips move to the shell of her ear, teasing her. “Tell me how bad you want my tongue here.” I dip a thumb into one bra cup, rubbing her softly.
She makes a small sound of contentment, close to a moan.
“Come on, talk a little dirty to me.” I know she’s capable of it. “Anything you want, you only have to ask.”
She hesitates, then whispers, “Touch me.”
“Where?”
She brings her free hand up to cup her breast. “Here.”
I brush a finger lightly over the area, and from the way she strains toward me, it’s not giving her much relief.
“Is that all?” I ask, knowing full well it’s not.
“Grayson.”
I nearly chuckle at the exasperation in her voice. “What else do you want?”
“Your tongue. Like you said.” She reaches back and undoes the hook on her bra, tossing it on the floor. God, I love when she loses her inhibitions.
Reaching out, I lightly pinch her nipple, rolling it between my fingers. “Here?”
She nods enthusiastically. “I want you to suck my nipples.”
A tingle chases down my spine. That’s my girl.
I waver a moment at the endearment that pops into my head, then brush it aside. It’s only a heat of the moment kind of thing.
Bracing a hand behind her for support as I lean her back, I give her what she wants, using my tongue until her chest rises and falls in quick, uneven breaths. I lap at her, her nipples so fucking soft, then suck her into my mouth, adding little nips that have her hand speeding up on me.
The friction of her grip on my dick feels so goddamned good, but I want to see if I can make her come a second time.
And like she can read my thoughts, she slips down from the counter and unbuttons and unzips her jeans, sliding everything off until she’s fully nude in front of me. “Get me off again?” she half-asks, half-demands. Her voice is hopeful, but expression set like she’s going to come one way or another, even if she has to do it herself.
She doesn’t have to worry about that.
She takes me in hand once more, setting the rhythm, and I drag my palm down her belly until it reaches the small tuft of curls at the juncture of her thighs.
“Anything you want,” I whisper into her ear, pressing soft kisses against the length of her neck as I guide her legs apart and sink two fingers into her heat. “You’re so wet for me,” I murmur.
She nods, lost for words as her hips arch into my touch, seeking more. That’s it. I want her desperate for me, the way I find I’m becoming for her, lust coursing through me.
I lean back, taking in her mussed hair and flushed cheeks. Like I told her earlier, she looks utterly fuckable.
She makes eye contact with me and smiles, leaning in to kiss me on the lips.
And that’s apparently all I needed to send me over the edge, still worked up from before. My hips buck, a groan escaping me as I come on her hand and belly.
She bites her lip as she watches me, excitement on her face.
My chest is heaving by the time I’m finished, realizing my fingers have completely lost the rhythm inside her, and as I catch my breath, I redouble my efforts until her hips are rocking wildly into my hand again.
“You gonna come for me?” I ask her, and she helplessly nods in response.
Less than a minute later, her inner muscles convulse, her harsh, panting breaths like music to my ears as she drenches my fingers with her arousal.
She moans my name, and the urge to do some kind of caveman chest pounding strikes me. I’ve never felt possessive about a woman, but my name on her lips while she’s in the throes of passion has an effect on me I wasn’t expecting.
Especially since it’s her. Shy Abby, of all people. Pride suffuses me that I could bring her to this state.
When she’s finished, I gradually withdraw from her, glancing around the bathroom. I grab a washcloth from the neatly folded stack on the shelving unit in here, then clean us both up.
She quietly watches me as I wipe her stomach, and a part of me wants to ask her what she’s thinking.
I’ve never asked a woman what she’s thinking after sex.
Not that this was sex. It was, what? Third base?
But I’ve also never done anything like this with someone like Abby. If I date a girl and things don’t work out, that’s the end. I never have to think about her again. But Abby’s connected to me in all kinds of complicated ways. Even if I don’t live in Crescent Pass, she’ll still be a part of my life.
Now where was that warning when I was suggesting to her we explore this attraction for the rest of the week?
She agreed that everything would be normal between us in the future, but that was before I knew the softness of her skin, the grip of her hand on my dick, the sound of her moaning my name as she comes. How can things ever go back to how they were?
And, more importantly, do I want them to?
Because at the moment, all I can think about is how much I want to do that again.
She moves to get dressed and I startle, wondering how long I was standing there motionless, caught up in my thoughts. Grabbing my shirt, I step out of the bathroom, giving her privacy, and finish getting dressed myself as I walk out to the living room.
On the coffee table is a small box of wooden coasters, engraved with Owen and Harper’s names, along with Saturday’s date. I pick one up, marveling at how it looks like a mini tree slice with unique grain patterns on each one. Did Owen make these himself? Goddamn, what can’t the man do with a tree and a saw?
Leo jumps on the table next to the box and gazes up at me expectantly, but I can’t tell if he wants me to pet him or is hoping for treats. I reach out and scritch the top of his head, liking how he sticks his face up into my palm for maximum pets.
“You two friends now?” Abby asks, joining us in the living room. Her hair is down around her shoulders and tousled, a glow about her. All I can think is that I put that glow there.
“Uh, yeah,” I finally reply as Leo nudges my palm for more pets. I motion to the coasters with my hand that’s not petting the cat. “Why did they bring these again?”
“Oh, I’m wrapping all the wedding favors for them. They’ll end up looking like this.”
She motions for me to follow her, and when I do, Leo jumps down from the table and walks with us to a closed room I haven’t been in before.
Abby flicks on the light and picks up a wrapped box off the desk along one wall. She hands it to me, but all I can do is stare at the intricate folds in the paper that form the shape of a tree.
“Where’d you get this?” I ask, turning over the box in my hand. It’s wrapped with quality paper, something you’d buy at a stationery store, but I still can’t get over the detail and all the little tucks and pleats used to create the final effect.
“I made it,” she says simply.
My brow furrows, thinking she’s joking before I remember her saying she made that book display at the library with all the origami flowers. “That’s… wow. Impressive is an understatement.”
She huffs a breath of laughter. “It’s folding paper.”
“Seriously, you’re an artist.”
Her cheeks pinken the slightest bit, and I love that she can blush over a simple compliment when not ten minutes ago she was asking me to get her off without a hint of embarrassment.
“Everyone has different talents,” she says. “If you’re a financial analyst, I’m sure you can do some kind of Excel wizardry I couldn’t dream of.”
I laugh aloud at that. “Do spreadsheets turn you on?” I waggle my eyebrows for comedic effect. “I can create a pivot table that’ll really make you blush.”
A grin spreads across her face and she nudges at my shoulder playfully. “You know what I mean.”
I capture her hand and bring her close. “I like seeing you blush.”
She bites at her bottom lip, gaze downcast before she looks up at me with an impish tilt to her lips. “I like when you make me blush.”
It’s the most natural thing in the world for me to lean down and kiss her softly, her lips parting under mine. I had the passing thought earlier that it might be different between us after leaving that bathroom and entering this new, unexplored territory. But it’s still good. Still exciting.
“Can I come over tomorrow night? After whatever’s happening on the itinerary?”
She nods, her smile wide, like she’s radiating happiness. “I’d like that.”
Her smile brings a pleasant warmth to my chest, one I’m becoming more familiar with this week. No one’s ever had an effect on me like this.
And I want more.