Chapter 6
6
GRAYSON
I ’m not going to lie and say that I wasn’t disappointed when Ainsley ran off to the bathroom. I thought she was feeling the same connection I was and if she wasn’t, I wish she had said something. Without prodding, Natalie jumped up and followed her to the bathroom, making me appreciate her that much more.
When Natalie comes back, alone at first, she doesn’t say anything, but her smile conveys what I need to know. She gives my hand a gentle squeeze before pecking Caleb on the cheek.
Since I’m so focused on my two friends, I don’t notice at first when Ainsley comes sauntering back up. She’s got a smile plastered on her face, and she slides herself into the booth next to me. Following suit, she pecks my cheek, and when I turn to look at her, she winks at me. I reach over and pull her in to me, and she melts into my side. I place a kiss on the top of her head, inhaling her scent. She reaches her hand down under the table and grabs my dick and gives it the tiniest squeeze. In my ear, she whispers, “Later tonight,” and it takes all of my self-control to hold it together. Thankfully, Caleb asks Ainsley a question and her attention is drawn to him.
I quickly adjust myself under the table. When I look over, Natalie’s got the biggest smirk on her face. My cheeks redden, knowing that she witnessed that entire interaction. I reach into my water glass and grab an ice cube to toss in her direction.
“Hey!” she yells.
“Dude,” Caleb adds, his attention drawn to Natalie when she yells.
I shrug. “She started it.”
“She started it,” Natalie accosts, pointing to Ainsley.
Ainsley smirks and shrugs her shoulders. God, is it possible to like her even more? Natalie whispers something in Caleb’s ear and in turn, he brings his hand up and requests a high five from Ainsley, which she obliges. He flashes her his boyish smile, the one he used to give to women he was trying to hit on before Natalie came into the picture. Before I say anything, I notice that it doesn’t do anything for Ainsley so I let it slide this time. All she does is smile back at him, but it’s not the one of hers that makes my heart beat faster.
Natalie asks, “So what was wrong with the boat?” just as the waitress drops off the appetizers Caleb and I ordered while the girls were in the bathroom.
“The heater.” I make myself a plate of food.
She raises her eyebrows. “You cut your trip short because you had no heat?” she asks incredulously.
Caleb snaps his head over to her. The look he gives her shuts her up.
Ainsley takes in the exchange and though she’s clearly confused, she doesn’t ask any questions. She just continues to munch on the nachos we ordered.
“I’ll call Ben on Monday and see when he can get a new one ordered and installed. It’s probably going to cost an arm and a leg, but it is what it is.” I take a slow sip of my water when I finish speaking.
“When has the price of something stopped you from getting what you want?” Natalie asks.
“NAT!” Caleb hisses out .
She looks at him. “What? What is up with you two?” She shakes her head but appears to give up. And changes the subject. “So, how are the plans for Bella’s wedding coming?”
I groan. “I don’t know. I try to stay out of all of that and leave it up to Bella and Kylie. I told them just to tell me when and where I need to show up and what to wear, and I’ll be there.”
She nods. “I told Caleb that we are getting a hotel room for the night of the wedding so we don’t have to drive home.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good plan. Get me a bed. I may need a place to crash.”
“No man. Not happening,” Caleb grumbles. “Get your own room.” He gives me the stink eye.
“When’s the wedding?” Ainsley asks.
“About four months.” I don’t ask aloud if she wants to be my date. I can always add her as it gets closer.
“Are they excited?”
“Yes. It’s practically all Bella talks about. I’m surprised she didn’t mention it the other night.”
“You’ve already met Bella?” Natalie shrieks.
Ainsley nods. “She’s the one who sent the drink over to me at the bar the other night.”
I look at her dumbfounded. “You knew she sent it?”
“Of course I knew. I just didn’t know why she sent it because she appeared to be hanging all over you so I couldn’t understand why she would send it on your behalf.”
Natalie looks over at me. “Wow, Gray. Getting your sister to pick up the ladies for you now, huh?” She laughs at my expense.
Luckily the girl sitting next to me doesn’t join in, but rather inquires, “Gray?”
“It’s what his friends call him,” Natalie supplies. “Well, and Bella and Kylie, too.”
“Oh,” is all she manages.
There’s a lull in the conversation and somehow my hand finds her thigh. She doesn’t even flinch when I start rubbing it up and down. I’m still shocked at how natural all of this feels, especially so soon.
Over dinner, the four of us continue to chat and get to know Ainsley a little better. She seems relaxed and appears to really enjoy herself, and the conversation flows effortlessly even though she doesn’t know the history of our friendship. She asks questions here and there and lights up when Natalie tells stories from when we were younger. As usual, Caleb stays quiet, only joining in on things he deems important or to argue with Natalie about something. I’m pretty sure by the end of dinner, Ainsley and Natalie have plans next weekend for a girls’ night.
Once the bill is settled, we say our goodbyes to Natalie and Caleb and head out to the parking lot. This time, she grabs my hand and traces little circles on my palm with her finger.
Walking over to the car, I think nothing of the man striding toward us, but as soon as Ainsley gets a look at him, her entire body tenses up. She almost stops walking, so I look over at her. Before I can ask if she’s okay, the guy is jogging over to her. She lets go of my hand as if it was burning hers.
“Hey, Ains!” he calls out in a chipper voice. “Long time no see.” When he gets over to us, he completely ignores me and wraps his arms around her. Her body stiffens even more and it takes all of her energy to bring her arms around him to return the hug. He’s got a smug smile on his face, while her face looks almost sad.
“Jordan. It’s been a while for sure,” she responds curtly.
“I think my parents are at your parents’ house tonight.”
“Yeah, I was there earlier. Your mom told me your news. Congratulations.” Her monotone voice conveys the lack of emotions she is giving this guy.
“Thanks? I wish I could introduce you to Maggie, but she’s feeling under the weather. Some other time. Is your number still the same? I’ll give you a call sometime so you can meet her.” Ainsley nods. “Sweet. Well, it was good to see you. Take care.” He continues on his way into the diner.
Ainsley’s gaze is focused on the ground. Not only has her body language completely changed, but her face has lost some of that spark. Trying to bring her out of her funk, I call out to her, “Hey.”
Surprised by my voice, she seems to have forgotten I was still standing there. I try again, this time, placing my hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you okay?” She doesn’t back away from my touch, which I take as a good sign.
She shakes her head no. “Can we go?” she whispers.
I mentally berate the guy for taking away the happy girl I’ve spent the evening with. “Sure thing.” Before leading her back to the car, I envelop my arms around her and pull her in close to me. Her body is still stiff and doesn’t melt into mine like it had earlier tonight, although she does allow me to hug her for a few long minutes. Before pulling away, she looks up at me, a hint of sadness in her eyes.
My breath stops; I’m afraid the look she’s giving me is going to be the brush off, and if that’s the case, I’m going to more than mentally berate that Jordan guy. I need her to come home with me, even though I can’t explain why.
When she finally starts talking, I’m hoping with everything I have that she’s not going to ask me to drive her home.
“I’m not sure if there were expectations for tonight, but maybe I can take a rain check?”
Well, she hasn’t asked me to drive her home, but I still ask for clarification. “Expectations?” I ask, having an idea of what she means.
She doesn’t answer but instead, starts walking to the car. When she gets to the passenger side, I haven’t unlocked the doors yet. She leans her back up against the door, sighs, and lays her head back against the car.
“Expectations….of sex,” she clarifies when I’m close enough to hear her.
“Do you want me to drive you home?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t hear the disappointment in that loaded question.
“No,” she quickly states. “I want to go home with you. But, seeing Jordan, killed the mood for me, so I will understand if you want to bring me home. But I don’t want to be alone either.” Her gaze falls back to the ground, her toe digging in the dirt.
I appreciate her candidness and how she can say what she wants, regardless of whatever answer I give her.
“Hey,” I say, tipping her chin up to meet my gaze. Her eyes are wild and filled with distress. “I won’t lie and say I didn’t have expectations for tonight.” I pause and take a deep breath. “But if you coming home to my place, even just to sleep, is still on the table, I would want nothing more than that tonight.” Her eyes soften and her lips curl up into a small smile. To lighten the mood even more, I add, “I don’t usually put out until the third or fourth date anyway.” That garners a laugh from her. “Although with you, I could have been coerced to make an exception.”
“Is that true?” she asks quietly.
“Which part, darling?”
“That you don’t sleep with girls on the first date.” Reluctantly, I nod my head yes. “Wow,” she says. “So, you’ve never slept with a girl you just met?”
“Nope,” I tell her. “You?”
“Considering I’ve never slept with a girl, that would be a no for me too,” she replies, not missing a beat. And then she lets out a little giggle.
“How about a guy?” I ask, not sure how I feel about the answer.
She hesitates a moment. “Yes. And before you ask, it’s been more than one.”
“You don’t go around kissing guys you just met, but you sleep with them?” It comes out a little harsher than I intended.
She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Please don’t tell me you’ve never slept with someone just for sex?”
“Of course I have, just not someone I didn’t know.”
“Oh right.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Does it bother you that I’ve slept with men I didn’t know?”
She’s looking up at me, for an answer, her eyes pleading with me not to care and not to judge her. “It’s in the past, so there’s no reason to let it bother me,” I tell her as nonjudgmental as I can convey.
“Is it going to be a problem?” she prods further.
“No,” I state adamantly. “Come here.” I pull her into me again. She lets me hug her for a little while. When she pulls herself out of my arms, she looks up at me, a quizzical look on her face. “What?”
“You are so unlike other guys I know, other guys I’ve been with.” I want to ask more, but she continues, “Take me to your house now.” She digs the keys out of my front pocket, just barely grazing my dick. She hits the unlock button, opens her door, and climbs in. I walk around and get in. Holding out my hand to her for my keys, she proclaims, “Thanks for dinner. And pool. And for not judging me.”
“You’re welcome, for all of it. Thank you for coming home with me.” I start up the car and drive us to my house.
It takes about fifteen minutes to get to my house. On the ride, she’s pretty quiet. About halfway there, I lay my hand on the console between us, and she quickly places her hand in mine.
“Grayson?”
“Yeah?”
“How old were you when you lost your virginity?” When I look over at her, she’s staring out her window, but her fingers are tracing shapes in my palm.
“Do want the truth or the answer I tell girls?”
She snaps her head to look at me. I knew that would get her attention; it always does. It’s a line I started using a while ago just to see girls’ reactions to the question. I know that Ainsley isn’t “any” girl, but I knew it would get a rise out of her.
“I want the truth,” she answers.
“Sixteen,” I tell her, which is the truth.
“And the answer you tell other girls?”
“Last year.”
She raises her eyebrows. “And girls fall for that?” she asks incredulously .
“There have been a few. You should see some of their faces when I say it, straight-faced. One girl wouldn’t let it go. She was so annoying.”
“Did you eventually tell her you were kidding?”
“Nope. I had her so convinced it was the truth that no matter what I told her after that, she wouldn’t believe me.” I laugh at the memory. “How about you? How old were you?” “Seventeen. It was my senior prom. So cliché, right?”
“Hope he at least sprung for a hotel room.”
“Oh, he did. At the motel on Route 68. It was quite romantic.” I look over to her because I can’t tell if she’s serious or not. “Dead serious,” she declares with a shudder.
“Not a good time, huh?”
“No, not the best. And it wasn’t even his first time! But I was na?ve and didn’t know any better, and by the time we ended things, he got his shit together. In the bedroom at least.” She pauses for a minute. “Is this conversation awkward for you? Like, I feel like it should be, but it’s kind of not.”
“It’s less awkward than other times I’ve discussed my virginity,” I state honestly.
“Have you discussed it often? I have to say, most guys don’t want to know my history.”
Again I glance over at her. “Seriously?” She nods. “I find that most girls want to know the when and where of it but not so much the how. That’s my experience at least.”
“Okay, so where?”
“Her bedroom. Her parents were out of town.”
“Was she your girlfriend?”
“At the time, yes. She wasn’t my first girlfriend, just the first girl I slept with.”
“Was she your girlfriend for long after the first time?”
I haven’t thought about Rylee Denvers in a very long time. I shake my head. “Maybe like six months. Her family moved out of state and despite her persistence that long-distance relationships can work, they can’t. At least not at sixteen. ”
“I hear ya,” she exclaims. “Not that I have any experience with that; I’ve never tried to make that work.”
She goes quiet again. Despite the deep topics we are covering tonight, it’s not an awkward silence.
“Your prom date. Was he your boyfriend?” I ask to break the silence.
“Yes, for about a year before prom and two years after.”
“Wow, that’s a long time for high school. Why did you break up?” She shifts in her seat, the movement conveying the slightest bit of uneasiness in her demeanor. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay. We both stayed in Maine for college, even though we chose different schools. We made it through freshman year together, but it turns out, he wasn’t really good in a crisis, and it just drove us further and further apart until he eventually went his own way, and I went mine.”
I don’t ask about the “crisis” because if she wanted me to know what happened, she would have told me. Instead I ask, “Did you love him?”
She’s quiet for a moment. “I thought I did. But what does a teenager really know about love?”
“I couldn’t tell you,” I answer.
“Have you ever been in love?”
Since we are pulling up to my house, I choose to ignore the question. I hit the button for the garage and after it opens, I pull the car in. Once it’s parked, she goes to hop out, as she notices the other car in the garage. She squeals. “Oh my god! You have a ’67 Mustang? That’s like super cool.”
I literally stop in my tracks. “What did you just say?” I ask her, knowing I couldn’t have heard her correctly.
She looks over at me for clarification. “What? It’s a Mustang, right?”
“The other part.”
“That it’s super cool?” she asks, shrugging .
“How the hell do you know it’s a ’67 Mustang?” Okay, seriously. This woman is the woman of my dreams.
“My grandfather was super into cars. He worked at the Ford Factory for like fifty years or so.”
“Hold up,” I tell her, crossing to meet her where she stands. I lay her bag at her feet. “Like the Ford Factory? In Detroit?”
“Yep. The one and only.”
“I will be so jealous if you tell me you have been there.”
“Only a handful of times. He retired when I was ten, but we visited at least once a summer every year before that.”
Now it’s my turn to squeal. She puts her hands over her ears. “That was way too girlish of a scream, Grayson.”
“Visiting the Ford Factory has been on my bucket list since I was five. FIVE! Please tell me it’s as cool as it looks on the Internet.”
“If you like cars, especially Ford cars, it’s super awesome. But the part that’s not open to the public is even more awesome.”
I throw my hands over my ears. “Stop talking. I don’t need to be any more jealous of you right now.”
She laughs. “So, is this your car? Better yet, do you drive it?”
“Yes, and yes. It was my dad’s, but he passed it on to me. I’ve had my eye on getting one of the newer ones, but I just haven’t bitten the bullet yet. One day soon I will.”
“If it’s a nice day tomorrow, can we drive this to breakfast? Please?” she practically begs.
“Sure. Let’s go inside.” She picks up her bag and follows me inside. Once we get inside, she drops her bag in the mudroom, kicks off her shoes, and ventures into the house. I hear her squeal again as I’m taking off my shoes and hanging up my keys. I have to wonder what she’s squealing about now.
I find her in the kitchen, practically molesting the countertops. I stand in the doorway, taking in the view. After she feels up the countertops, she makes her way to the stainless steel fridge. She runs her hand along the handles and then pulls open the side-by- side doors. I always keep the fridge well-stocked, and I see her admiring what’s inside. As I watch her, I’m regretting the “no expectations” discussion we had earlier. This girl is seriously turning me on right now. In the fucking kitchen. With fucking appliances.
She closes the fridge doors, pulls open the freezer for good measure, then moves on to the stove. She runs her hand over the cooktop. When she gets to the oven, she pulls the door open and peers inside. When she notices the second oven underneath, she squeals again. She turns on her heels to face me. “Please tell me that you use this kitchen and that it’s not just for show.”
“It’s not just for show.” I nod my head over to the door on the left. “Open the door.”
Giddily, she jogs over to the door. Throwing it open, she stumbles, almost falling to the floor. She walks into the pantry and I imagine she takes a look around, since I can’t see what she’s doing. The sounds coming from the pantry lead me to believe she’s touching things and moving things around on the shelves. She’s in there for a good five minutes. Finally emerging, she saunters over to the island and hops up. Oh fuck, I think. She motions me over, batting her eyes at me. I walk over to her and hop up next to her.
“Can I please amend my comment from earlier?”
Having a good idea of which comment she means, I play dumb and ask, “Which comment would that be?”
She licks her lips and pulls the bottom one into her mouth before she answers. “The one about not having sex.”
“And what would you like to amend it to?” I ask, brushing the strand of hair that’s fallen in her face away.
“I’m putting it back on the table,” she states nonchalantly. She reaches her hand over my leg and palms my dick. She leans into me and in the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard, she whispers, “The pantry or the island. Where should we start?”
I hop down off the island and instantly regret losing the feeling of her hand on my dick. I stand between her thighs, pushing them apart to fit myself in. Once I’m there, she wraps them around my waist. There’s a hunger in her eyes, begging me to do things to her. As slowly as I can, I find the button to her jeans. She senses what I’m doing and tries to hurry me along. I remove my hands and she pouts. When I make no move to continue undressing her, she puts her hands in the air, and I resume my work. I manage to unbutton the jeans and slide the zipper down. I’m met with the sight of cream-colored underwear with roses on them. Copping a quick feel, the satin is cool to the touch. I lift her ass off the counter and she helps me shimmy the pants down. I sit her back down, her pants now resting on her thighs. Taking a few steps back, she’s forced to unhook her legs. She places her hands on my shoulders to steady herself, as I slowly tug her jeans down her legs and when they are finally off, I toss them to the floor.
Stepping back in between her legs, I tug at the hem of her sweater and slowly push it up her abdomen, making sure my hands keep in constant contact with her skin. When I’ve bunched the sweater up to her armpits, she raises her arms in the air, and I push it over her head and up her arms, again not losing contact with her skin. Once it’s off, I toss it behind me. With only a quick glance at the white lacy bra, my hands reach around her back to unclasp it. Once it’s unclasped, the straps fall down her arms. She wiggles her arms a bit so it slides even further down. I grab a hold of it, drag it the rest of the way off and fling it behind me. Glancing down at her chest, I’m met with the sight of the most flawless breasts. Although they are on the smaller side, their perkiness and near-perfect shape make up for what they lack in size. I grab the nipples in between my fingers, tugging gently as they harden in my grasp. I so want to lick them, but I know if I do that, I’ll be a goner for good, and I’m not quite ready for that yet. I’ll take them in my mouth when we are in my bedroom later tonight.
As I’m exploring her breasts, she lets out the slightest moan. She wraps her legs around my waist again and pulls me in closer to her. Her hands go around my neck and find the back of my head. She lets one hand float a little higher, and it knocks my hat off my head .
“You seem to be wearing too many clothes,” she rasps out, already slightly out of breath.
“Whose fault is that?”
Since I’ve granted her permission, she grabs the hem of my shirt and starts to hastily pull it over my head. Because of her angle, it gets stuck on my one arm, so I help her out and pull it off. She ogles my bare chest up and down and then runs her hands over it. “Damn,” she mutters when she gets to my abs. She pays them special attention, trailing her fingers up, down, and sideways. Her hands find the button of my jeans, but I push them away. There’s no way I’m letting her take off my jeans right here.
She questions my action with a look. I take a deep breath. “Ainsley, I’m super happy you put sex back on the table for tonight, and as much as I want to fuck you right here on the island, and in the pantry, unless you have a condom that you can reach from where you are sitting, it ain’t happening.”
She contemplates my comment and her face falls momentarily, but then it’s quickly lighting back up again. “You mean to tell me you don’t carry a condom in your wallet?” Her lips turn up into the smallest smirk.
“Sadly, I don’t make it a habit of carrying them around in my wallet.” But boy do I wish I did right about now. Her smirk is replaced with a look of disappointment. “Let me finish what I’ve started.”
“Okay,” she whispers. Without even hesitating, she lifts her butt in the air and shimmies her underwear off and down her legs. She even manages to kick them off herself.
I grab her by the waist and bring her bottom half closer to the edge of the island. “Lie back,” I instruct, pushing her chest gently. She obeys. She props herself up on her elbows, licks her lips, and then just waits for me to make my move.
I don’t hesitate. I push her thighs apart a few inches more and then trail my fingers up her left thigh, across her sensitive area, and down the right thigh. Placing my left hand on the counter on the outside of her leg, my right hand finds her clit. As if on autopilot, my thumb starts circling it so that my fingers can trail lower. I don’t need to push inside to know she’s wet and ready for me. I find her opening and drive one finger inside.
As my fingers work below, Ainsley leans back even further, letting her head fall back, almost touching the counter. Every now and again, little moans escape her mouth. My gaze travels to her abdomen. She’s completely bare above where my fingers are working, and I notice that her stomach muscles begin to tighten and twitch ever so slowly. When I up the intensity of my finger, pushing it in and out at a faster pace, the muscles tighten a little more. My thumb continues to circle her clit; I can feel it harden as well.
I add in another finger and almost immediately, she’s screaming my name as she comes on my fingers, her thighs tightening and closing together with my hand in the middle. I continue to move my fingers around inside her for a few more minutes while she comes down off her high. My erection is pushing against my jeans, more so when she sits back up. While this look suits her well, I can only imagine how incredible her “just fucked” look will be.
I remove my fingers and pop them into my mouth. Yeah, there will be more tasting later this evening.
She slides herself down off the island, gives my abs one more once over, and then her eyes meet mine. “Two questions,” she pants, out of breath.
“Okay…”
“One, where do you keep your condoms?”
“In the top drawer of the nightstand,” I answer.
“Two, which way to your bedroom?” She bats her eyes at me, daring me to take her there.
“Follow me,” I order, practically dragging her behind me as I make a beeline for my bedroom.