Chapter 14 #2
“Oh.” She swallowed hard. “I think so,” she said after a moment.
“She wants to. And if it’s her last… Well, I appreciate you playing along, Grayson.
I know that lying probably isn’t the best thing, but honestly, I just want Grandma to be happy.
She deserves it. And this seems like just a small thing I can do.
Even if it isn’t exactly right.” She blinked back a tear.
I couldn’t help it; I reached for her then and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. My hand lingered, my fingers tracing the curve of her jaw. “Of course,” I said roughly. “I hope you know I’d do anything for you, Harper. I always have and I always will.”
She swallowed hard. For a moment, I thought maybe I’d gone too far. But at the same time, I didn’t care. I was tired of pretending.
Before she could say anything, I leaned in, slow enough to give her the chance to stop me.
She didn’t.
The first brush of her lips was soft, tentative. But the second, when she let out a breath and leaned into me, that wasn’t tentative at all.
It was everything I’d been holding back. Everything I hadn’t let myself admit until that very moment.
And God help me, it was everything I’d been missing for the last fifteen years.
Harper
It might have been the wine, or the way the firelight painted him in a warm glow, but when Grayson kissed me, I didn’t stop him.
There was no one watching. No one we needed to pretend for.
This was for us.
And if I were honest with myself, something I’d been actively trying not to do, I’d been waiting for this kiss from the moment I’d seen him again.
Probably longer.
I opened to him, my lips parting as his tongue slid against mine, slow and deliberate, stealing the breath from my lungs. Heat coiled low in my belly, spreading through me until I was trembling in his arms.
It was different from before. Different from when we were kids, or we kissed for show in front of the whole town. Or even when we kissed in the snow the other day.
This kiss held a promise of more.
So much more.
It was exciting and terrifying all at the same time.
But I couldn’t let myself think about what it might mean. Or more importantly, what I wanted it to mean.
Instead, I closed my mind and shifted closer, pressing myself against him. His answering growl rumbled through his chest, vibrating against me.
His hands were everywhere—cupping my face, skimming down my back, pulling me onto his lap, rucking my dress up enough so I could straddle his lap.
The thick ridge of his arousal pressed against me through his pants and the thin scrap of my panties. A shiver tore through me at the reminder of what we were doing.
What we were about to do.
“Harper,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against mine. “Tell me to stop.”
“No.” My voice shook, but I’d never been more sure of anything. “I don’t want to stop. Not tonight.”
His mouth claimed mine, harder this time, and I clung to him, needing to be closer.
Grayson’s hands skimmed down my sides, his fingers splayed as if he were trying to capture me in his memory.
He found the zipper for my dress and slid it down until he could pull the tight fabric from my body.
He sucked in a breath and sat back, his eyes hot on my skin as he took in the sight of me.
The fire crackled behind us, the heat of it licking over my bare skin as Grayson’s mouth moved down my throat. Every scrape of his stubble sent sparks racing through me.
“Grayson,” I gasped, threading my fingers through his hair, needing more.
He groaned low in his chest, his hands sliding beneath the lacy cups of my bra to cup me fully. His thumbs teased over my nipples until I arched against him, desperate for more.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice reverent, as if he couldn’t believe I was real. That this moment was real.
And for a second, neither could I.
He’d seen me before, of course, but this was different.
I was different.
The last time we’d been together, we were eighteen.
Young, inexperienced, fumbling in the dark.
I’d been all sharp edges and nerves, and he’d been a boy with too much intensity in his eyes, and not enough patience in his hands.
It had been urgent and sweet and clumsy in ways that only a first love could be.
But this…
This was different.
I wasn’t the same girl I’d been at eighteen. My body had softened, curved in new ways. His hands mapped each line as they traveled over my skin, releasing the clasp of my bra, freeing my breasts.
The way he touched me made me feel beautiful in a way I never had back then.
And he was most definitely not a boy anymore.
My hands fumbled at his shirt, desperate to feel him. When I finally managed to pull the fabric back off his strong shoulders, and touch the warm skin and hard muscles under my palms, I, too, took a moment to take in everything he’d become.
A grown man. Broad and strong with steady hands and a body that made me ache just to look at. There was nothing hurried or impatient about him now. Every kiss, every touch was deliberate and confident.
The rest of our clothes fell away, careless and fast, until there was nothing left between us but need.
“I should take you to bed,” he murmured as he lay me down on the rug in front of the fire, making no attempt to move to the other room.
“But the way you look in the firelight…” He groaned and kissed a path down my neck to my chest. “Delicious,” he whispered against my skin before pulling one aching peak between his lips.
His tongue swirled and teased until I cried out, my back arching up off the floor.
He moved to the other nipple while his hand slid lower, over the curve of my stomach, between my thighs.
“Grayson,” I whispered, already trembling.
“Let me,” he murmured, and then his fingers were on me, stroking and circling my hard bud until I came apart under his touch.
“So, fucking, beautiful.”
His lips were on mine again, kissing me through the climax, his fingers unrelenting.
I barely had a moment to recover before he shifted, his mouth replacing his fingers on my clit. I gasped, oversensitive, but Grayson’s hands clamped down on my thighs, holding me firmly in place as the flat of his tongue lapped against my core.
My head tipped back, a moan of pleasure slipping from my throat as I arched up into his mouth.
He was relentless. Licking and tasting every inch of me until, once more, I began to unravel under his touch.
I cried out, my hands clutching at his shoulders while the sensation crashed over me.
The fire roared, but it was nothing compared to the heat flooding my body.
My release hit hard and fast, my body arching as the pleasure rushed through me.
I called out his name, clinging to him as the waves took me under.
By the time I came back to myself, Grayson was watching me, his face raw with hunger and something deeper.
“Harper, you—”
I pulled him to me, desperate for more and unwilling to wait long enough for him to say whatever he needed to say.
I kissed him slow and deep, traces of wine and myself on his tongue. His hands gripped my hips, rolling me over until I was astride him, his thick, hard cock throbbing against me.
His hands gripped my hips, guiding me down against the thick length of him, gasping at the fullness, the rightness of the moment.
I rocked against him, bracing myself against his chest as the pressure built, delicious and unbearable at the same time.
My head fell back, a moan tearing from my throat. “Oh my God,” I whispered. “I forgot how—”
“Don’t say that.” He cupped my face, pulling me down for a kiss that silenced me. “I never forgot.”
We moved together, slowly at first, learning each other again, learning each other for the first time as adults. His hands steadied me, worshipping me and coaxing me higher.
I clung to him, chasing the rhythm until the ache built inside me. I pressed back, my hands flat on Grayson’s chest as yet another orgasm flooded me.
There was no holding back my release. I cried out his name as I shattered. Beneath me, Grayson gripped me tight and pulled me down to him, kissing me through it, his body shaking as he followed me over the edge, burying his face in my neck as he came undone, his own climax consuming him.
Completely wrung out, I collapsed into his arms. Skin damp, pulse racing, Grayson wrapped his arms around me, our breathing ragged as we lay on the rug, firelight dancing over us.
Grayson
Harper lay curled against me, her cheek resting on my chest, her body a perfect fit in my arms. Her breath was still uneven as the firelight flickered over her skin. I tightened my arms around her, not ready to let her go.
I was in trouble.
It didn’t take a genius to see that.
All of this was supposed to be for show. For Willa. A Christmas gift of sorts, seeing her granddaughter happy and in love.
But there was nothing pretend about this.
The way Harper had come apart in my arms. The way her body fit mine, like it always had. Only better now. The way her eyes had locked on mine like she was feeling every ounce of what was racing through me.
I’d tried to deny it.
I’d tried to ignore it.
But I couldn’t help it.
I was in love with her.
I always had been.
For years, I’d told myself letting her go—pushing her away—was an act of love.
I told her I didn’t care. I pretended I didn’t want her so she’d leave town and chase her dreams. I’d been young and stupid and full of bravado.
But even at eighteen, I’d known that if I hadn’t done it, Harper would have given up her dreams for me.
It had damn near broken me, but at the time, I’d been so sure I was doing the right thing.
Now, lying with her in my arms again, something I never dreamed I could have, I no longer knew whether I’d done either of us any favors.
I also didn’t have any idea how it was going to end this time.
The one thing I did know was that no matter how many times I’d tried to tell myself it wasn’t real, I knew with certainty that, at least for me, it was.
She shifted against me, sighing softly. I let the sound sink deep into my bones. If this was all I got, I’d damn well make it last as long as I could.