Chapter 15

15

AINSLEY

G od, he’s so gorgeous. He’s barely touched me, and I’m already soaking wet in anticipation. It’s more than just his looks; it’s the way he makes me feel, it’s the way he looks at me, like I’m the only girl in the room. The waitress was pretty tonight, but he barely acknowledged her, except when he whispered our order in her ear. Even then, his eyes were locked on mine. It feels good to be adored; it’s been a long while, I almost forgot that I deserve it.

Grayson brings his mouth back to my breasts, sucking on each nipple for a short time, leaving them hard. He swings his leg over to straddle mine and even through his boxers I can feel his erection as he hovers over my groin. My arms lay at my sides, my fists gripping onto the sheets.

He flutters kisses up and down my abdomen, and when he hits my inner left thigh, he lingers there and sucks. That’s going to leave a mark, I think to myself. Fortunately, he moves on to the other side and adds a matching one. When I think he’s going to lower himself down to my sex, he surprises me by bringing his face up to mine. He grabs my lower lip into his and pulls it into his mouth. He does this a lot, not just during sex .

“Grayson,” I moan.

He lets my lip go and pushes up onto his tiptoes, his legs making a V above mine. “Boxers,” he rasps out. I reach up and slide his boxers down his leg, freeing his erection. He brings his knees down to the bed, still straddling my legs. He sets himself up at the perfect angle to enter me. As he drags his dick along my clit, I sit up.

“Grayson, stop!” He shakes his head, his dick inching closer to my entrance. “No.” I try again. He picks his head up from where he’s licking my stomach and gives me a pleading look.

“You make me want to break all my rules,” he blurts out. “I’ll pull out before I come.”

I do a very quick calculation in my head. Against my better judgment, and the annoying nagging in my head, I give him the okay. With a smile and a wink, he gets back to work.

As soon as he’s inside, I let go of all those fears; it feels pretty fucking amazing with no barrier between us. So much so that as soon as he starts moving in and out, I feel the fluttering in my stomach. I fist the sheets next to me as he takes me higher and higher toward my climax.

He thrusts in and out in a steady rhythm, and my hips lift to give him a better vantage point. I feel my legs tighten, my toes begin to curl, and my orgasm hits, making stars appear in my eyes.

I lower my hips down as he continues to grind against me. He’s close, I can tell, and as I’m about to remind him to pull out, his orgasm hits, and he empties himself. Inside of me.

“Fuck, Grayson,” I yell, louder than I meant to, but I’m pissed. Using both arms and all my strength, I push him off of me. He stumbles back a bit, first having to pull himself out of me.

“Ainsley, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I tell him, rushing off the bed to the bathroom. I don’t care that his cum is leaking down my legs or that I’m most likely getting it everywhere. All I care about is getting out of his sight for a while .

Once in the bathroom, I grab a towel and frantically wipe myself down. I lean up against the door, sliding down. When I hit the ground, I hug my knees into my chest. I drop my head to my knees and try to ward off the impending tears.

I hear Grayson moving around in the room but luckily, he lets me be. I contemplate telling him why I’m pissed, but I decide against it. I can’t get into that right now, especially because I’m pissed at him for not respecting my wishes. Even though it was fucking incredible. And I’m on the pill. And time-wise, I should be fine.

I take a small amount of comfort in knowing that the fact that Grayson wanted to have bare sex shows his commitment to me. He knows the consequences and took the chance anyway. However, for me, it’s the cavalier attitude that he dismissed my feelings and took what he wanted. And then the tears are unleashed because I’m having an inner war with myself and hell if I know which side is going to win. You should tell him, a voice whispers in my head. Picking up the towel, I wipe my eyes, then wrap it around me, even though it’s dirty. The floor is kind of cold, making me shiver.

I open the door a crack and jump a little when I realize he’s sitting on the opposite side of the door. From his position, he whispers, “Can we talk?”

“Get me my pajamas, please,” I respond instead, a curt edge to my voice. I hear him get up and within a minute, he returns with them in his hands. He doesn’t hand them over right away.

“After you put these on, please come out.” His tone is regretful, but he sticks my clothes through the barely open door. I grab them from him and quickly shut the door again.

I pull on my pants and tank and sink back to the floor. I know I can’t hide in here forever, but I’m too pissed to care at the moment. “UGH!” I yell. “Why did you have to do that?”

I don’t really expect him to answer, but I hear him clearing his throat. When he doesn’t start with “I’m sorry,” I decide to hear him out. “I honestly don’t know, Ainsley. And if that sounds like a cop- out, it’s not. You know my history. It’s not something I do, but I had this…this compulsion to take you bare. It’s like I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t help myself. And I heard you say stop and no, but something bigger was at play. And you know where I’m coming from; this isn’t one-sided on my part. But I should have listened to you, and for that, I apologize.”

And just like that, my anger fades, and the side of me that enjoyed the sex wins out this time. I can’t even be mad at myself because he is everything. Everything I’ve ever only imagined I deserved and everything that’s been missing in my life. Every. Damn. Thing. But I still can’t open the door. So instead, I scrunch up the towel and lay down like it’s a pillow.

He deserves the truth, my conscience whispers. And deep down, I know she’s right. She’s always right, that damn bitch. But I can’t tonight. It will be enough just to be able to go out there and face him. Which I’ll do in a few minutes. I close my eyes to help me steady my breathing.

I awake huddled on the bathroom floor and have no idea what time it is. When I realize I must have fallen asleep in here after Grayson’s confession, I quickly pee and then open the door. Grayson’s curled up on the floor next to the door. His eyes are darting back and forth under his closed lids, but his breathing is steady and even. I make a quick decision to wake him, and when I place my hand on his shoulder, he bolts upright.

“Huh?” he asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Let’s get in bed,” I tell him. I start over to the bed, hoping he will follow me. I crawl under the covers while I hear him padding over to the bed. He climbs in next to me and when he wraps me inside of his arms, any leftover anger I possessed completely dissipates.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” he starts, but I cut him off.

“I know. Me too. We’ll talk in the morning.”

I’m facing the wall, and he’s spooning me from behind, his arm draped across my body. Before I drift off to sleep, I hear him whisper, “I’m damn sure I love you.”

I wake up to an empty bed, but I take a minute to revel in the silence, especially after last night’s events. Grayson deserves the truth about my past. I need to explain why his actions caused me to act the way I did. I’m not even sure how to tell him at this point. “Hey Gray, so I had an abortion six years ago. You okay with that?” sounds way too flippant, but I’m not sure I want to make a big deal out of it. I mean, it was a big deal at the time, but it’s in my past. I’m hoping he will just accept it like he did with my past sexual behavior, but deep down, I’m terrified to tell him and scare him off. And so begins the war within myself yet again.

When I finally decide to get up out of bed, I make a quick stop at the bathroom and then go in search of the man, the man who’s captured my heart.

I finally find him sitting out on the stern. His hair is rumpled, he’s thrown on a T-shirt and a pair of loosely fitting jogging pants. He’s staring off in the distance, lost in a trance or another world. Not wanting to startle him, I quietly call out, “Hey,” as I make my way over to him.

He breaks his stare and turns to look at me, his lips turning up into a smile that just about reaches his eyes. I can’t help but smile back at him; his smile is infectious. He motions me over to him and pats his legs for me to have a seat on his lap. When I do, he puts a kiss on the top of my head and takes a long inhale. He pulls me in closer to his chest as he wraps his strong arms around me. It’s at this moment that all thoughts of sharing my past are pushed to the deepest part of my mind for now. I don’t want to ruin this trip.

“Morning, beautiful. How was your night?” he asks me.

“Mine was wonderful, with you by my side,” I repeat back to him, the words to a country song. He doesn’t get it at first, but then his face lights up with recognition.

“Kenny Chesney?” he guesses.

“Steve Holy,” I correct, “but good guess.” He reaches over to the table and grabs his mug of coffee, which he offers to me first. “Mmm, thanks.” I take a sip and allow the warmth of the beverage to course through my body. I hand it back to him. “So what’s our plan for the day?”

“Whatever you want, my girl.”

I look up at him. “‘Your girl?’” I question incredulously.

“Too soon?” he asks, a hopeful expression on his face.

“No, I kind of like that actually,” I tell him, allowing the meaning of the expression to sink in.

“Good, because you are.” He wipes the few loose strands out of the way and then kisses my temple. “Can I take you shopping today?”

“Um, yes please. But I must warn you. I’m not much of a shopper, and I loathe trying on clothes. Just a warning.” I bat my eyes at him.

“I bet I can get you to try on some clothes,” he disputes with a laugh.

“Oh, I’m up for that challenge.” He tugs my braid, pulling my head back to him.

“You better be. Come on. It’s my turn to take you out on a date. Go get yourself dressed and meet me back up here in ten.”

“Wow, who is this bossy man and what has he done with the Grayson I know?” I ask, reluctantly pushing myself out of the comfort of his lap.

“Oh, he’s still here. He’ll be back later. Now scoot.” He smacks my ass, pushing me on my way.

Smiling, I go down to the bedroom. I dig my sundress and leggings out of my bag and change out of my PJs. I let my hair out of the braid, run a brush through it, and let it all hang down around my face. I snicker to myself as I look in the mirror, knowing it will drive Grayson wild. I grab my purse on the way back up to Grayson.

He’s standing in the kitchen, finishing the last of the coffee. He changed his clothes to a pair of cargo shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt. My eyes ogle him up and down, and I lick my lips when I catch sight of his calves. And they may have just replaced his arms as my favorite body part. Holy muscles!

He catches me staring, but then it’s his turn to stare. “Fuck me, Ainsley,” he grumbles, shaking his head from side to side.

“Later, big guy. You owe me a date.” I flip my hair and walk away from him, but I’m not quite fast enough for him. He grabs me around the waist and pulls me closer to him. I can feel his heart beating fast, his breathing labored.

“You drive me wild, you know that right?”

“Of course. Now we are even.” I force myself out of his grip and walk away; sometimes I can’t trust myself with his man.

He lets out a slow, low groan as I feel him watch me walk away. I make my way to the outside deck and wait for him. Just when I think I could get used to this routine, my phone vibrates with a message. I take a peek at the sender; it’s Tara to Kelcie and me. And there goes my mood. I don’t even get a chance to read the message before Grayson is grabbing the phone out of my hands. He shoves it in his back pocket.

“I don’t know who that was and I don’t care, but I’m not going to let this phone ruin another day for us. You can have it back at the end of our day.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I hate how I let people get to me.”

He drags his fingers up my neck, tickling it as he tips my chin up in his fingers. “Today, I won’t let them.” He brings his lips down to meet mine and brushes a soft kiss on my lips. “Come on, love. I owe you a date.” He gives me one last hug and then we head off the boat and into town.

G rayson takes me to Serendipity, a resale clothing store. He literally tells me to go find a dressing room and he will do the shopping; I just have to try the clothes on. And anything HE likes, he's buying for me.

I wasn't lying when I told him I'm not a shopper. I hate it. I usually buy my clothes online, but I'm really curious to see what he will pick out.

I find a dressing room and take a seat. Well, I wouldn't call it a dressing room. More like a stall with a curtain for privacy. He has my phone so I can't even stalk Facebook or check my emails. So I sit and wait. And wonder what he's doing out there, what he's finding.

In a few minutes, I get impatient and peek my head out of the curtain. I spot Grayson towards the front of the store, a young girl laughing at something he's saying. She goes so far as putting her hand on his arm, just to cop a feel I'm sure. Hey, I get it, even though I wouldn't touch a stranger who's clearly here shopping for a girl. I smile when he retracts his arm quickly from her touch. That's right, bitch. Hands off! He's mine!

I watch a few more minutes but then see him coming to the dressing room so I take a seat.

“Are you decent?” comes his bellow from outside the stall.

“Does it matter?” I ask with a chuckle. “You've seen it all.”

He pushes the curtain out of his way and barrels in with a shitload of clothes on his arm.

“No! I am not trying all these on.”

“Humor me,” he retorts as he throws them in a pile on the stool. He takes a seat on the floor and looks over to me. “These clothes aren't going to try on themselves, darling. Get to it.”

So I do. And I don't even pretend to have fun. Because it is not fun. At all. He's brought me dresses, skirts, pants, shirts, and a very random sweater.

About halfway through the pile, I whine and tell him I'm done, but he just stands up and literally starts dressing and undressing me.

“I could make so many sexual comments right now,” I start, as he draws his fingertips up my abdomen, “but seeing as how I hate this, I will refrain.”

“That's really too bad. It's not every day I get to dress and undress a hot woman. ”

“Can we move this along if I promise you sex in your bed later tonight?”

“Make it every day this week, and you've got yourself a deal.”

“Are you ever letting me leave?”

“If I say no, will you be mad?” He stops what he's doing for my reaction.

I pretend to contemplate it for a minute. “I suppose,” I say, drawing out the suspense, “there are worse things in the world.”

His face lights up. “Then nope.” To make sure I know how happy he is, he lifts me off the ground and spins us around. When he puts me down, he throws my dress and leggings at me. He starts separating the clothes with tags into two piles. “Did you want anything in particular?”

I shake my head. “No, but I certainly don't need all these clothes.”

It's like he doesn't even hear me; he keeps sorting the clothes, even going as far as moving some from one pile to the other and back again. He’s finally satisfied with what he wants and grabs the piles and stalks off to the register.

After I’m dressed in my clothes, I meet him up at the register, just as the sales clerk is ringing him out. To the tune of over three hundred bucks!

“Grayson!” I exclaim in protest. “This is way too much!”

“Hush,” he chides, handing over the cash. All of the store’s proceeds are donated to the Food Pantry; he likes to “do his part,” as he puts it. The clothes are bagged, and he grabs them. The sales lady gives him her biggest smile. In return, he throws his arm around me, staking his claim. “Come on, darling. Let's go home.”

“Thank you,” I say once outside. “I don't even know what you bought, but I'm grateful for your generosity.”

“No need to thank me. Everything I bought is actually for me.”

“Interesting.” We continue to walk around, the bag in his one hand, mine in the other. Every so often, he places a kiss on my temple. “What time do we have to head back? ”

“I figured we could get lunch and then make our way to the boat to leave for home.”My heart flutters with the word “home.”

“Sounds good. I want a burger for lunch. I know that's random.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Awesome. I love you,” I toss out casually.

Without missing a beat, he returns, “Where's the fanfare with that statement?”

I shrug. “I'm pretty sure we've had our share of fanfare already. You know, when I asked you to marry me after you kissed me back the night we met? You’re a fucking amazing kisser. Anyone ever tell you that? And I've kissed a lot of frogs.”

He ignores my first question, choosing to focus on the second part of it. “A lot of frogs, huh? Like how many is a lot?”

“Oh I lost count after fifty,” I tell him sarcastically.

He laughs.“So does that make me a prince then, since you said I was a fucking amazing kisser and then mentioned frogs?”

“If the shoe fits,” I retort smugly. Then I lower my voice. “But truthfully, I think you are pretty much a prince.”

He doesn't react. Or at least he doesn't appear to react.

We do a little more shopping before we grab lunch. He buys us matching hoodies, a souvenir from Bar Harbor, and a pair of PJ pants for me. We circle back around to the candy store from last night and he tells me to fill up a bag “for the road.” Because there are so many of my favorite candies here, I don’t hesitate to grab a bag and fill it to the brim. I throw in some of his favorites too, the ones I gleaned from when he filled his bag last night.

The burger hits the spot and soon we are walking back to the boat. “Let’s start a new tradition to come back here,” I suggest as we are nearing the marina, walking hand-in-hand.

“Whatever you want, darling.”

Back at the boat, Grayson makes the last-minute adjustments before we sail out of the marina and hit the open water. The ride back is just as comfortable as the ride there, but there’s less sexual tension. I can tell Grayson’s tired, yawning every so often as he drives the boat, one hand on the wheel, the other in my lap or rubbing my thigh. Between the view, the company, and his constant touch, it’s the perfect ending to a great weekend away, especially since we both totally avoid what happened last night.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.