Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Graham placed the crate in his living room and I secured Nova inside, giving him a kiss on his head goodnight, even though I hadn’t gone to bed around this time in so long I’d probably end up staring at the ceiling for hours.
I straightened, running my palms over the thighs of my jeans, suddenly unsure. “So, uh, are we truly just going to bed so you can get your sleep, or…?”
“Or,” Graham said, striding toward me and placing his hand on my hips. He propelled me backward down the dim hallway, and I automatically veered left to find that while similar, the floor plans to our cottages are slightly different. It’s like trying to read words in the mirror, and I spin around to make a self-deprecating joke about how I should’ve followed the leader when Graham gripped the waist of my jeans, right over the button, and yanked me into the open doorway of his bedroom.
As happy as I was to give into his gravitational pull, I dragged my feet a little once we’re inside the bedroom. While the walls remained bare like the rest of the house, there were more personal touches to this room. Hints to the man I’d gotten to know over this past month. Softly lit with warm-toned lamps that cast a golden hue over the room, highlighting the earth tones he favored, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Deep grays, warm browns, and olive-hued greens.
A king-sized bed sat in the center, dominating the space. Everything was neat and tidy, the various pillows arranged by size, with a folded throw blanket at the foot of the bed, although I’d bet he hadn’t needed it once this summer.
Everything in the space was uber-functional and serene, a place to find solace from the outside madness of the world. Graham had become that for me, and I tried not to think about how hard that’d be to lose.
He captured my chin as I finished off my inspection, tipping my face to his. “Eyes on me, Gorgeous.” At the desire dilating his pupils, a thrill shivered through my core, leaving me ready to put everything else on him, too.
My hands, in particular.
I reached out and curled my hands in the hem of his shirt, much like last time, but Graham clasped both of my wrists in one of his large hands, steely fingers preventing me from ridding him of his clothes. “Someone still hasn’t learned I’m in control.”
“Actually, I’m feeling rather out of control.” I stuck out my lower lip and went heavy on the eyelash batting. “If only there was a big, strong, overly analytical man to take it from me.”
“Careful what you ask for.”
“Why?” I flattened a palm to his abdomen, savoring the twitch of his muscles, and twisted my wrist until my fingers dipped inside the waistband of his sensible khaki trousers and the elastic of his boxers. “Or I might just get it, like that Pussycat Dolls song?”
“Still only understanding about half of what you say, love, but make no mistake, I’m going to give it to you.”
I grinned so wide my cheeks hurt, but I was so blissfully happy, I welcomed the burn. Heat pooled low in my belly as Graham raked his gaze over me, finishing his inspection with a yank of one of the belled sleeves of my off-the-shoulder crop top. “This shirt doesn’t make any sense, by the way.”
“Better get it off, then,” I dared, lifting my arms because I was helpful like that. He peeled it off tortuously slowly, tossing it aside and then humming in contentment as he looked me up and down again.
“You’re fucking incredible, you know that? Without your shirt on, I’m having trouble focusing on anything but that, but it goes beyond looks. It’s the way you are with your friends, your sense of humor, the kindness you show to others, and that boundless enthusiasm that makes everything we do more fun. You radiate joy, and I can’t get enough.”
With a flick of his wrist, he undid the button of my jeans, sending my pulse on a high-speed chase. “If you’d asked me a month ago how I liked to enjoy a museum…” The thumping of my heart echoed through every inch of me, leaving my nerve endings firing. “I would’ve said alone, in quiet contemplation.
“But after today?” The lowering of my zipper sounded loud in the quiet, and how could I be getting warmer every time he ridded me of more of my clothes? “Only with you.”
He shoved my jeans down around my thighs, lowering his mouth to the crook of my neck. His tongue darted out, tasting the spot where my pulse hammered away beneath the surface. “Always with you,” he rasped, and my heart fluttered, getting way ahead of itself thanks to that always .
I shimmied my jeans the rest of the way down and kicked free of the denim, a foot getting stuck in one of the holes of the knees for a second or two, so there was a bit of bouncing and stumbling into Graham in the undressing process.
Then I straightened and swiped my hair off my face, shoving away longing thoughts about wishing this didn’t have to end. “How long do I have to wait to get my hands on you?”
Graham threw his arms wide, making himself a target of my raging libido—I’d chosen to ignore the hammering of my heart that chanted more, more, more .
Padding closer, I slipped my hands up the back of his shirt, gliding them over the intoxicating dips and curves. I curled my fingers over his firm shoulders, bringing our bodies flushed together and soaked in the warmth of his skin.
“Fucking perfect,” he whispered again, and my knees turned to water, so it was a good thing I was holding on extra tightly. Graham Edwards had once accused me of crashing into his life, but he was the one who’d rearranged all the pieces of me, fitting them to his interlocking tabs and slots, until I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
I wanted him so badly, beyond the here and now.
Yes, I fell in love easily, and once I cared for someone, it was nearly impossible for me to stop, no matter how toxic or how badly the other person hurt me. But this was different than anything I’d ever experienced before—this was the true acceptance I’d spent most of my life searching for. Rather than scold me over my inattention and impulsivity caused by my ADHD, Graham told me I radiated joy and he only wanted to go to museums with me. He saw the real me that I often kept masked and liked me all the same.
With my emotions nearly overwhelming me, the pace turned frantic with both of us groping each other like we were adrift in a raft on the stormy seas. I ridded him of his shirt and his pants, then he claimed it was his turn, and my discarded bra was added to the pile.
He palmed me over the lacy triangle of my thong, undoubtedly feeling the dampness he’d caused. Stroking me over the fabric, he peppered kisses along my jaw and down the column of my neck to sink his teeth into my shoulder, a light nip he immediately kissed better.
Increasing the tempo and the pressure, he recaptured my mouth with his, tongue parting my lips so he could sweep it into my mouth and devour what was left of my shallow breaths. The less oxygen and shakier my limbs, the more certain I’d fall, and since that would get in the way of getting laid, I looped my arms around his neck, anchoring myself to him.
Won’t let you , he’d told me in the shower a couple of weeks ago, and he planted his hands on my ass, not only proving he’d catch me, but also boosting me into his embrace with ease. I moaned at the friction of his arousal grinding against me. I should’ve removed the frustrating barrier of his underwear, a mistake I’d right next chance I got, only before I could so much as reach for them, he lowered me onto the softness of the mattress.
Our hips knocked together as he pushed onto his palms, and my eyes threatened to roll into the back of my head. We fit together so superbly, bodies, personalities, and souls.
The man leaving me spinning like the earth orbits the sun kissed me hard on the mouth to immediately withdraw. My hands grope the empty air, every part of my anatomy cursing him for stranding me so naked and needy in his bed.
The scrape of a drawer and rustle of a wrapper clued me in to the fact that he was grabbing a condom, and once he freed it from its package, I sat up and said, “Wait, I want to roll it on.”
Anything to draw out the evening and assist me in committing each and every detail to memory.
Graham’s throat worked a swallow as he handed it over, and an exhilarating sense of power sang through my veins. It was a bit tricky getting it started, especially with his cock bobbing in anticipation and the intensifying ache between my thighs.
Stifling my impulsive, impatient side, I took my time, basking in the silken hardness and how he made me feel like I could take on the fucking world, as long as he was by my side.
But he won’t be.
The downer thought crept in, clamping my throat. I wanted him as much as I didn’t want Ethan to leave, but I refused to let that steal me away from the present. I’d worry about everybody leaving me later.
“Graham, I know you like to drive or whatever, but right now…” There at the end, my voice threatened to crack and give me away, so I tugged him to me, sighing in relief at being skin to skin at long last. “What I need is for you to fuck me good and hard, until I can’t think about anything else.”
One corner of his mouth quirked up, the slant of his crooked smile absolutely slaying me. “I suppose, in this one instance, I’ll let you call the shots.”
“Oh sure, the instance where I demand you insert your dick into my vagina? Really taking one for the team, aren’t you?”
His low laugh danced across my nerve endings, goosebumps rising in its wake. “I’m a reasonable man, as you like to point out.”
I hooked my leg over the back of his and peered into his eyes, brushing my lips over the tickly ends of his whiskers. “Is this you finally admitting you’re a typical Taurus?”
“ A typical,” he said, twisting his face so our mouths met. “And no.”
A giggle burst free, and I bracketed his head in my hands. In the next instant I came crazy close to saying I love you , and that led to the realization I was totally and utterly screwed. While there’d be no stopping my gushy feelings from overtaking me now, I searched through my brain and allowed myself a more middle-of-the-road option. “You’re my Taurus, and that’s all that matters.”
And as we rolled around in the sheets, exploring each other’s bodies and all the tender places between, I told myself again and again that was all that mattered.
Until I thought maybe—just maybe—I could find a way to make it come true.