27. CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 27
Rose
I stormed up the stairs when Edgar told me that Gray was going to fix the retaining wall by the cliff.
Who the hell did he think he was doing that without talking to me?
I knocked and, without waiting for a reply, walked into Gray’s room, slamming the door shut behind me. I'd just entered when he stepped out of the bathroom, damp and naked, a towel in his hands.
The air whooshed out of my lungs.
He grinned. "This looks like a scene from a bad movie."
He didn't make any effort to cover himself.
I couldn't look away. It had been months since we had been intimate. We'd always had a good and healthy sex life. I loved making love with him—loved the intimacy. I missed it. I missed him.
"Babe?" He walked toward me, his eyes heated. He dropped the towel on the floor.
I licked my lips. His penis was thickening, getting harder, and I had to swallow a moan.
He gently, oh so gently, dipped his head and brushed his lips against mine. I let him kiss me; let myself kiss him. It felt good to taste him, feel his hands on me as he pulled me close. I loved his smell and loved the sounds he made as his tongue dipped into mine. We'd been together for twenty years; our bodies were attuned to one another.
He raised his head. "Fuck, I've missed that."
I moved my hips against him. "Missed more than that, I reckon," I whispered, feeling more than a little aroused.
"Babe," he groaned, yanking my hips against his, rubbing himself between my thighs.
I was wearing a pair of jeans, and his hands unsnapped and unzipped them before I could think straight.
"Let me," he murmured. " Please, Rose. I need you."
I swayed when his hand cupped my pussy.
"So wet, so warm," he whispered and dipped a finger inside me.
I whimpered.
He pressed his thumb on my clit and stretched my channel with a second finger. I leaned my head on his shoulder, smelling him. My husband. My man. My love.
"Yes, babe. Like that," he encouraged when I moved to increase the friction of his hand against my clit.
My breathing became ragged, and time elongated back to when we loved like this, carefree, just the two of us, close, entwined.
I felt the forerunners of my release, and I began to moan. When I came, I slumped against him. He left his hand on my pussy, while the other held me tight.
When I got my breathing under control, I lifted my head and he smiled at me, gently, warmly.
He released me and then licked his fingers, the ones smeared with my juices. It aroused me.
"Fuck, babe, you taste so good. You always taste so…."
I looked at his cock, standing proudly. But before I could touch him, he stepped back.
"That was just for you." He walked to the closet and pulled out clothes.
As he dressed, I tried to rearrange my thoughts. I had been certain he'd get me into bed. Gray liked sex. He was a sexual person, as was I. We were always very good in bed. The chemistry was electrifying. Our sex life was one of the reasons I was certain he'd not cheat on me—and also why I'd never be able to be with another man. I doubted it could get this good with anyone else. And, there was that pesky problem of my being in love with him.
"What's this about you working on the wall in the back?" I managed to croak the words out.
He pulled on a pair of jeans without underwear. He did that a lot, and it was sexy as hell.
"Edgar showed me the problem, and it looks like Malou already has all the material. I drew up a plan. We're going to clear up today and excavate and put up a temporary structure to hold it together before dinner. Tomorrow—"
"Tomorrow is Christmas Day."
"I know. Think of this as my Christmas present to Malou and you." His voice was muffled while he put on a T-shirt.
"Gray, you can't just—"
"I'm an architect; I know how to do this. You trust me, right? At least to fix the wall?" He looked at me with such intensity that my anger evaporated.
It would be petty now to whine, why didn't you ask for permission ? He was helping. It was something both Malou and I knew we needed to get done. But we hadn't been able to book labor during the holidays, and Edgar didn't have the skill.
"I do trust you…with the construction stuff." I felt like an idiot standing there, my panties wet, his hand probably still smelling like me, my taste in his mouth.
"Thanks, babe." He looked like a kid on Christmas morning if the joy in his eyes was anything to go by. "I won't let you down."
God! Why was he being so sweet and nice? Where was the grumpy man I'd been married to for the past two years? The one who was always impatient with me?
"I know," I admitted. I pursed my lips for a moment and then cleared my throat. "Edgar, Lilah, and Grace are joining us for Christmas Eve dinner. Since Grace goes to bed early, we're going to do presents before dinner."
We usually opened gifts on Christmas morning, but since Lilah and Edgar were heading to Brunswick for lunch with Edgar’s mother, we decided to celebrate on Christmas Eve.
I’d laid down the rule: presents were only for the kids, which now included mine. I didn’t want Lilah and Edgar feeling pressured to get anything for Malou or me. Fortunately, with our guests joining us for dinner an hour later, I didn’t have to worry about them feeling left out or obligated to bring anything.
However, I'd bought small gifts made locally on behalf of Angel's Rest for everyone, which I would set on their plate at breakfast on Christmas Day.
The two couples staying with us would leave the day after Christmas and we were going to be blissfully guest-free until after the New Year. Willow and Jude would stay until the twenty-seventh, which made me very happy. I would have loved for them to stay through the New Year, but they had other plans, which was perfectly reasonable.
Gray? Well, he was staying. He wasn't dragging me to some New Year's Eve party at Holden's or demanding we throw one. He was being suspiciously laidback.
"I'm assuming you've taken care of presents," he said softly, and I saw something move in his eyes.
"Yes."
Gray always gave me jewelry. Nice pieces, but I wasn’t an Atlanta society wife. As much as I admired them, I’d always wished for something more personal. In the end, I left it all behind when I walked out.
I used to buy experiences as presents. One year, I bought a racetrack gift certificate for Jude so he could drive a Ferrari. That same year, I bought Willow a deep-sea adventure so she could see whales. For Gray, I used to buy vacations for us, but after canceling several of them, I stopped and began to buy experiences just for him. He loved to play golf, so I bought him tickets to the PGA finals. He took Holden, which was fine by me. I didn't even think golf was a sport.
This year, I'd gone old school and bought things : scented candles, lotions and perfumes, hand-painted tablecloths, a handmade glass vase, things that were made locally. For Malou I'd bought a cashmere shawl so it would be soft against her body. I just wanted to make sure she had something to open that she could use in the time she had.
Gray put a hand on my cheek and dropped a quick kiss on my lips. "Thank you for always making sure everyone got presents that they'd enjoy. Your thoughtfulness is unmatched, babe."
"How come you never said such things before?" I asked, feeling miserable that he should become the man I wanted him to be now .
"Because I was an entitled prick who took you for granted."
The ease with which he was revealing himself, taking responsibility for how he behaved, was unexpected but sincere. I knew Gray. I knew he wouldn't be saying these things if he didn't believe them.
When I didn't say anything, he kissed me again. "About earlier?"
"Yes," I squeaked out.
"I want you very much—all of the time. My hand is tired of jacking myself off. My dick hates my hand."
I reluctantly smiled.
"I want inside you so fucking badly,” his voice was tinged with sexual frustration.
"Then why—"
"I don't have your trust, babe. I'm not your darling Gray anymore." There was a wealth of sadness in his voice. "I got to get that back before my dick can get some relief."
"I miss being with you," I admitted. "In bed… and out of it."
"But the out-of-it part wasn't happening that much, was it? I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking from you like I always did, without giving anything back."
"That orgasm was pretty nice." I couldn't help but grin wide.
"You're beautiful when you come," he whispered.
"I better go before I show you again how beautiful I can be," I teased.
As I went downstairs to the kitchen, I couldn't help but smile. I flirted with my husband and now I wanted to giggle like a teenager.