Chapter 19
Heather
My heart is pounding so hard that I’m sure Grant can hear it even over the steady hum of the sauna’s heater.
I feel light-headed, but not from the heat, and my genuine embarrassment from a few minutes ago has turned into something else.
Something that’s still making my face flush for completely different reasons.
I can’t believe what I just heard, and I’d swear on a stack of bibles that my mind was playing tricks on me—that I’d maybe hallucinated the whole thing—if Grant wasn’t still staring at me with the kind of intensity that never fails to make my stomach do backflips.
Try for me right now, and I’ll walk you through it.
Those words are replaying on a loop in my head, and fuck, it’s already the hottest thing anyone has said to me in almost a decade.
I feel more aware of my body in this moment than I have in a long, long time, but I also feel like I’m losing control of the situation. My thighs are squeezing together on their own, desperately trying to hold back a wave of sensations that I’m not sure I’m ready to feel.
But my core feels tight and hot, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out if he’s going to keep looking at me like that.
“What are you thinking about?” His voice is low, almost rough.
After so many years of ignoring my own needs, this is the first time it feels like I might actually be able to reignite that spark that I’ve been missing.
But then the idea of touching myself in front of him makes the whole thing feel overwhelming and mortifying and impossible. I’ve never done anything like this with anyone, ever. And it’s been years since I was touched or looked at by a man—let alone a gorgeous, tatted-up, massive hockey player.
Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe I’m dead, and this is heaven.
Still, I hear a voice in the back of my head saying I can’t, that I’m too old, or that I’ve forgotten how.
“I can’t.” The words come out barely above a whisper.
Something flashes across his face—disappointment, maybe frustration—but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by that unreadable mask he wears so well.
That split-second crack in his armor does something to me. It tells me just how serious he is right now. He really wants to do this. He wants to help me get off, right now, in front of him.
I open my mouth to apologize, but something else comes out instead.
“I’ll do it if you will.”
I don’t know if I’m being brave or reckless as hell, but there’s no way to take those words back now.
His eyebrows shoot up, and my breath catches as the heated tension between us ratchets up another notch.
“You mean—” He pauses, his eyes searching mine. “If I touch myself, you will too?”
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I nod instead. My heart is racing so fast and hard that I can barely breathe, and the air around us is so thick I might actually pass out before either of us can follow through with this reckless game we’re playing.
His eyes stay locked on mine as he reaches into his shorts. Oh god, this is really happening. I break away from his stare, but only so my eyes can travel lower, down his tattooed chest, down past his abs, until I’m following the little trail of hair that disappears into the waistband of his shorts.
It’s obvious from the way the thin material clings to him that he’s already hard. And big. Really big. His hand is moving slowly, rhythmically, and I watch for what feels like hours but is probably only a few seconds, completely mesmerized.
And then something snaps inside me.
Something takes over, almost like I’m having an out-of-body experience. That’s the only way I can explain how I’m suddenly brave enough to reach into my bikini bottoms and slip a finger between my folds.
Grant’s tongue drags across his bottom lip, and I imagine that tongue on me instead. It’s enough to make me moan as a wave of wet heat rushes through me.
“Fuck,” he groans, matching my rhythm. “You look so good like this.”
My mouth falls open just as my fingers find my clit, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to keep from begging him to fuck me right here on this sauna bench.
“God, Grant,” I whimper instead. “It feels so good. So much better than before.”
It’s been so long that I’ve forgotten how easily I can lose myself in the moment, and how good a single touch can feel, even when it comes from my own hand.
“Yeah.” His voice is strained. “Seeing you turned on like this is driving me out of my fucking mind. You can do this. You are doing it. Just let go. Don’t stop until you come for me.”
My hips lift off the bench and my legs start to tremble as the sensations build higher and higher. His voice is low and rough and he’s still stroking himself, his forearm flexing as he speaks.
“I bet you’re soaking wet right now.” His breathing is getting harsher. “Show me. Let me see you.”
“Yes,” I gasp, taking my hand away just long enough to shove the scrap of fabric covering me down and out of the way. “You too. I want to see all of you.”
I’ve never been this bold in my whole life, never dared to tell a man exactly what I want. But Grant is already yanking his shorts down past his knees and pulling his cock free, and all I can think about is how much I need to feel that thick length inside me.
“This is all for you.” He wraps his hand around himself, pumping once. “Look at how hard you make me.”
My fingers are slick as I circle my clit faster. The smell of my own arousal fills my nostrils, blending with the scent of sweat and the muskiness from his workout. It’s a dizzying, intoxicating mix that’s pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
“I’m almost there,” I say out loud, barely able to believe this is happening after so many years of depriving myself. “Keep talking. Please don’t stop.”
“Fuck yes.” He pumps himself faster. “Come for me. I want to watch you fall apart. Say my name when you do.”
He’s breathing as hard as I am, his body tensed and coiled as he holds himself back, waiting for me.
“Grant, I’m so close.”
I barely recognize the sound of my own voice. It comes out as a broken, desperate moan, but I’m not embarrassed. I can’t even feel shame right now. All I can do is chase the intense sensation that’s building up, higher and hotter.
“Say it again.”
“I’m coming, Grant!”
“One more time.”
“Grant!”
His name echoes off the sauna walls, but my own cries and the loud rush of blood in my ears quickly drown it out. My thighs are trembling, and I can’t stop moaning as I ride the waves of pleasure.
Directly across from me, he’s coming too, his eyes half-closed, his body tense and his abs flexing as ropes of thick cum shoot out across his stomach and chest.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
Our eyes lock for a moment, and I can’t believe what’s just happened.
Then Grant looks down at himself and shakes his head. I’m still trying to process what we’ve just done when he stands up and wipes the cum from his chest with a towel. Then he turns and does the same to the floor.
When he’s finished, he walks over and looks down at me. There’s still so much heat in his eyes, and I tip my head back as my lips part on their own.
His jaw tightens, and I watch his throat work as he swallows.
For a long, agonizing moment, he doesn’t move at all.
He just stands there, towering over me, his chest still rising and falling with each heavy breath.
His hand flexes at his side, like he’s physically restraining himself from reaching out to me.
The air between us is still thick and charged, and I can tell from his expression that he’s fighting himself. Whatever he wants to do right now is at odds with the cool, walled-off image he likes to project.
His eyes drop to my lips, and for a breathless second, I think he’s going to kiss me. My heart stutters as he leans in—just barely, just enough that I can feel the shift in the air between us.
Should I close the distance? Do I want him to?
Before I can decide, he stops. Just… freezes.
I watch something shift behind his eyes, a flash of emotion that I can’t quite read, before he pulls back. His hand comes up like he’s going to touch my face, but it falls away before making contact.
“I should—” His voice comes out rougher than usual, and he clears his throat. “We should both get some sleep. I’ll give you some space.”
The words sound stilted and awkward, and I doubt he’s any more tired than I am right now, so I have no idea if he’s just making an excuse or not. But before I can respond, he’s already turning away. The sauna door opens, letting in a rush of cooler air, and then he’s gone.
I stare at the door, my lips still parted, my body humming with the aftershocks of what we just did.
What the hell just happened?