Chapter 41 Grady
grady
. . .
Lying here with Cleo Hayes in my arms after a night full of the best sex of my life, there was only one thought on my mind: I was the luckiest man in the whole goddamn world.
Over the years, I’d thought that time and again, telling myself it couldn’t possibly get better than the fame and family I’d procured through hard work and dedication. Even then, I knew I was lying to myself.
But no more.
After lying spent on the couch for a few minutes, we moved to the bedroom, taking our time to strip ourselves bare and take our time until we were utterly spent.
I didn’t think I’d ever come so much in a single night before.
Just when I thought I was done, I’d catch a scent of her subtle vanilla scent, and it was over for me.
By the time we finally called it quits, it was nearly 4:00 a.m. We had to force ourselves apart so we weren’t complete zombies when Charlie inevitably came crashing through the door with the rising sun.
I looked down at the angel resting her head on my chest, her blonde hair fanned out against my tanned skin in a contrast that almost made it glow.
Cleo was so beautiful it physically hurt—her bare face and the light smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
Her pouty lips, a sweet pink that accentuated the sharp cupid's bow just above.
How lucky was I that we’d found our way back to one another?
Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She stirred in my arms, blinking open her deep blue eyes and giving me a lazy smile. “Good morning,” she said.
As she stretched, I remembered we were both naked, too lazy to put clothes back on after our little sex marathon.
My cock stirred to life at the thought of being so close to her bare pussy.
Honestly, I needed to get a hold of that.
I was thirty-six, not sixteen. I couldn’t be getting hard every time I was around her.
But right now, when we were in bed alone, I could make an exception.
I rolled her onto her back, relishing the way she immediately spread her legs and welcomed me between her thighs.
There were faint marks along her neck, shoulders, and chest from where I’d licked and sucked and nipped at her skin all night, which I loved.
The sight of them on her body, knowing I was the one who put them there, soothed the territorial beast in my chest.
I reached out and let my fingers trail along them. “So fucking beautiful.”
Cleo glanced down, blushing. “Someone got carried away.”
“Don’t act like I’m the only one. If I walked into the bathroom, I’m sure I’d find some of my own.”
“Maybe so,” she said with a smirk. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll wear your hickeys with pride,” I said, leaning in to kiss her. She met me halfway, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me closer. The head of my cock rubbed against her center, earning a soft gasp as I slowly slipped inside. “Are you sore, bluebird?”
“A little,” she admitted. I moved to pull myself free because the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, but she stopped me with a fierce look. “But don’t you dare stop. Make love to me, Grady Wilde. Show me how much you love me.”
Last night had been mostly dirty fucking.
While we’d slowed it down a time or two, it was full of desperation and begging and frantic need.
But as the early morning sun filtered through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow, it felt different.
It felt born of love and tenderness. Of whispered oaths and the promise of infinite tomorrows.
With our gazes locked, I dropped my forehead to hers. Cleo raised her leg, hooking it around my waist as I gripped her hip, securing her in place before I began to move. It sent currents of pleasure coursing through my body as I aimed to show her exactly how profound this moment felt.
Slipping my other hand beneath her back, I pulled her closer, digging into her skin with each powerful thrust. I couldn’t get enough; I was gone for her. She had every bit of my heart, body, and soul. I didn’t know what else I could offer her, but I knew I’d give her anything she asked for.
As her lips parted on a cry, I covered her mouth with my own, swallowing her moans of pleasure. “I love you,” I said, picking up the pace, forcing myself deeper with each thrust. Each soft mewl she only made me want more. “I love you so much.”
It wasn’t long before her back bowed and sweet pussy tightened around me, sending me following her over the edge into toe-curling ecstasy before she could utter a single word. Nothing had ever felt so powerful, so meaningful before.
For the first time, I felt healed from the pain of our past. While I hated the time we lost, this may be how our story was meant to play out.
When we were kids, I could understand what we shared was special, but I had taken her for granted nonetheless.
I didn’t realize how much I would miss the way she kissed me every time she left a room or placed her hand on my back when passing by.
Or the way her smiles, the real ones at least, were so sporadic.
After a tender kiss, I sat back and looked down to where we were joined.
The evidence of our climaxes coated my cock as I slipped out, and goddamn.
.. It was so fucking hot seeing what was left of my cum leak out of her.
Flicking my gaze up to meet hers, I reached forward and slowly pushed it back in.
It didn’t matter to me that it’d be wiped away when we dragged our spent bodies to the shower to clean up.
I just wanted to lay claim to her in every way I could.
“That shouldn’t be as hot as it is,” she whispered, giving me a shy smile that I returned.
“When it comes to you and this pussy,” I said, brushing my thumb over her clit, “everything is fucking sexy.”
She laughed, the sound lightening the moment. “You’re so crude.”
“I can’t help it. I’m in love.”
Cleo’s face softened at my words. “I know. I feel it.” She placed her hand over her heart. “And it’s terrifying, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I wouldn’t either, baby.” I grabbed her hand, bringing it up to my lips. “Now, let’s get cleaned up before we get a wakeup call from a certain little girl who doesn’t understand boundaries?”
True to form, Cleo and I had barely gotten dressed before we heard the pitter-patter of feet running down the hall toward our room.
“Daddy, Miss Cleo!” she called before throwing open the door and storming inside.
“I’ve been waiting on you guys forever. I’m so hungry.
” She patted her stomach for extra emphasis.
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Cleo said, placing her hands on her hips. She’d thrown her hair up in a messy bun and donned one of my old band T-shirts that was so long it nearly swallowed the pair of cut-off shorts she was wearing.
Even though she had her own in the weekend bag Lennox packed, I love that Cleo wore my clothes. Whether it was out of a possessive need to show the world she was mine, or if it was just the familiarity of it all, it was so damn sexy.
Charlie shook her head. “Nope. We can’t!”
“If you could have whatever you wanted for breakfast, what would you want?” Cleo asked, stooping to Charlie’s height so they were level.
My daughter pursed her lips in thought. “I want something sweet, I think.”
“You’re gonna have to add something else in too, sunshine,” I said, leaning against the doorframe.
“Bacon?” Charlie asked, perking up.
I laughed. “Sure. Bacon is fine. Eggs, too, though.”
This time, Charlie’s face scrunched up in disgust. “I really don’t like eggs, Daddy.”
“Then I guess you really don’t want any sweets,” I said, pushing off the wall and moving to stand behind Cleo. “And don’t try to use those puppy-dog eyes on me. It’s not gonna work.”
Okay, so it almost always worked, but not when it came to food. My mom loved desserts more than anyone else I knew, but even she made sure to prioritize a somewhat balanced diet.
Charlie huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine.” She turned to Cleo. “But can you make them all fluffy like you did the other day? I liked those.”
“Anything for you, sunshine,” she said, smiling as Charlie held out her hand for her to take. Cleo hesitated for a moment before putting her hand into my daughter’s, and then she was dragged off to the kitchen.
It was the first time I realized Cleo had ever used the nickname Liv and I did for Charlie.
The fact that she was becoming comfortable enough not to overthink it made me smile.
When she’d told me about her struggle with infertility, my heart had broken for her.
Growing up, she’d talked about how much she wanted to be a mother, and that was taken away from her.
She was so good with kids—the type of person who would’ve made an amazing parent.
I hoped, though, she could come to think of Charlie as hers as much as she was Liv’s and mine.
I never wanted her to view herself as less than in that department.
I followed them down the hall and into the kitchen, laughing as Cleo instructed Charlie on what to pull from the fridge. “I’ll get started on the coffee,” I said, pressing a kiss to her cheek as I went by.
We were going to need it after the night we had. I was already feeling the exhaustion seep into my weary muscles.
After filling the pot and grinding down the beans, the aroma of fresh coffee filled the space.
I nearly wept with relief as I turned around to face Charlie, who was currently attempting to whisk the eggs like Cleo had shown her.
I thought she had it handled, but I was wrong.
When I went to pour myself a cup of steaming liquid gold, Cleo called for her to bring the bowl over to the stove.
I assumed she would’ve hopped off the chair first before grabbing the bowl, but apparently that wasn’t how my daughter’s mind worked.