CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jovana
As soon we returned to Grayson’s condo, I linked fingers with him and said, “Follow me,” before I took him through the guest wing and into my room.
It was an embarrassing mess.
Clothes were piled along each side of the bed. The dresser was covered in accessories. My framed photography was on the floor, resting against the wall. A giant bin of cosmetics was in the corner. I’d moved my filming equipment to make more room, and now that was scattered around anywhere there was an open spot.
I’d get it all cleaned up and organized.
But not tonight.
Within a few steps into the room, I turned toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck. And as I stared into those haunting green eyes, I thought of all the moments that it had taken to get here.
The moments that had been hard on my heart.
The frustration he’d put me through.
The way I’d forced myself not to give up, even though he’d told me countless times there was never going to be an us. That we would never grow into anything. That in the end, he was going to walk.
Of course, that could still be true.
So many things could happen within the next year.
But a feeling inside told me that deep down, he didn’t mean the harshness he’d said to me.
That he needed to process and accept what he really wanted and come to terms with it—something he’d never done before.
And once he did, he would realize that I was everything he didn’t know he wanted.
That was when he’d finally drop the shield.
He would let me in.
And we would have a chance to be us—to be whatever we were supposed to be.
Even though he hadn’t voiced those same words, he’d told me he cared.
That he wanted me.
That was enough.
And despite the fact that he didn’t know how to do this, I knew we’d figure it out.
Tonight was the start of that.
While I was stuck in my head, lost in these deep, emotional thoughts, he was gazing at my face, taking in my eyes, my lips.
A gaze that he’d had since the day we’d met at the bar, one that had always tugged at my gut, telling me there was emotion behind his eyes.
He was holding me tight enough that I couldn’t move.
I didn’t want to.
“You have me in here”—he gave the room a quick scan, a sexy grin spreading across those thick lips—“now what are you going to do with me?”
I brushed my thumb over his mouth, wanting the softness under my fingertip. “I need a shower. I was hoping you’d join me.”
“Mmm.”His moan was deep, coarse. It even vibrated through me. “I have a better idea.” His hands lowered to my butt. “Why don’t we use my shower. It’s bigger with a lot more heads.”
“Take me there.”
Instead of reaching for my hand, like I’d done to him a few minutes ago when I’d led him into my room, he lifted me into the air as though there were a puddle on the floor and he didn’t want my feet to get wet. My legs straddled his waist, my hands gripped his shoulders, and my face immediately went into his neck.
We weren’t even to the doorway before he stopped.
I could tell he was looking at something on the floor, and I followed his stare. “What’s wrong?”
“I just noticed that photo. I didn’t see it in your room at your old apartment.”
He had to be talking about the picture I’d taken in the Seaport District of the city. The one where I’d captured part of the bridge with the rainbow lights underneath, the rest of the shot a long angle of the water with part of Boston’s skyline behind it.
“That’s because it’s new,” I told him. “I had it framed shortly after you came to our apartment. And, funny enough, a couple of days ago, I saw that you have almost the same picture in your home office.” It hit me then that he’d never taken me into his home office. I’d discovered the photo during one of the mornings he was at work and I snooped around a little, peering into the rooms I hadn’t yet checked out. “I’ve looked around your condo. Don’t be mad. I felt like since I’ll be staying here, I should know the whole space.”
He smiled. “I’m not mad.” And then he gently kissed me. “I think I’m a little bit in shock that we have the same shot—that’s what made me stop and stare at it.”
I giggled. “I’m not going to lie, I was a little dumbstruck when I saw yours too. What are the chances that we’d be standing in almost the identical location, taking basically the same exact picture, and hanging it in our homes.” I held him tighter. “We have more in common than you think, Mr. Wicked.”
“When I saw your photography, I thought the same thing.”
“But you didn’t mention it.”
“No.” His stare shifted between my eyes. “There were a lot of things I didn’t say, Jovana.”
The same was true for me.
I cupped both sides of his face and kissed him, breathing in his citrus and amber scent, taking in the feel of his beard as it roughed up my skin, circling my tongue around his. “I hope that changes,” I whispered when I pulled away.
He didn’t respond.
He just started walking, carrying me past the hallway and living room and into his wing, where he brought me into his en suite. He set me on the edge of the large, freestanding tub in the corner, and he moved over to the massive walk-in shower, turning on the multiple heads. Two hung from the ceiling, and at least five more shot out from the walls.
Within a few seconds, the glass began to fog.
“Get over here,” he growled as he stood in front of the double sinks.
He was already tearing off his sweatshirt and dropping those delicious gray sweatpants, the crotch hitting him in a way that showed the outline of his dick. He slid off his sneakers, and once he was fully naked, a body full of muscle that was making me practically drool, he reached for me.
“I need you,” he roared.
He lifted my sweatshirt over my head and peeled off my yoga pants, freeing my feet from my sneakers. I unzipped the front of my sports bra and he brought me into the shower.
As the water hit the top of my head, I tugged the elastic that was holding my hair, letting my long locks fall down my back. But I had only a few seconds to enjoy the warmth of the heavy stream before his hands were all over me.
His lips were on my neck.
His hard-on was pressed against me.
My neck tilted back, my mouth opening, my breath already coming out in short, hard pants. “Grayson ...”
With our skin so slick, the movement was easy.
Uninterrupted.
Wetness on wetness, slippery pleasure that increased as his fingers dived lower down my body.
“God, I’ve fucking missed this.” He spoke right above my nipple, now holding me against the glass wall, and once he silenced, he sucked the peak into his mouth.
“Yesss.”
As he flicked the end, grazing it first with his tongue and then with his teeth, I gripped his hair.
I just needed to hold on to something.
Anything.
Because the sensation wasn’t only in my breasts.
His hand was now between my legs, rubbing the length of my clit.
“Don’t stop.” I tightened my fingers around his short strands. “Oh God, yes.”
His thumb was focused on the very top while two of his fingers were circling my entrance. “You’re so wet.”
It could be the shower, but we both knew it wasn’t.
The second he touched me, I was instantly damp.
“I can’t wait to be inside of you”—he slid in, turned his wrist, and pulled back out—“and to feel this tightness on my cock.”
He moved to my other breast, and my head pressed against the shower wall, my hair sticking to my cheeks, my lungs filling with hot steam.
I was completely full of this man.
He was touching each of my most sensitive spots, forcing the pleasure to build inside me.
“What are you doing to me?” I cried, changing my grip to his shoulders, which I began to dig with my nails. “You’re going to make me—”
“Come.” He swapped sides again, surrounding my nipple, mumbling, “Now.”
I was already there.
The tingles were in my clit.
My stomach.
Shooting higher as he thrust his fingers in and out of me.
But there was something about him demanding orgasms from me and the way he voiced those orders that sent me right over the edge.
I clung to his upper body, sucking in as much air as I could hold, and I braced myself as I was hit with the first wave of shudders. “Ah!” I gasped. Again. “Fuck!”
“That’s it.” His voice practically licked me. “Oh fuck, I can feel it.”
I was gone.
Floating in crests of intensity, and each one that pounded through me became more intense.
“Grayson!”
His hand didn’t slow.
His tongue didn’t halt from lapping my nipple.
If anything, he was moving harder.
Faster.
Working the layers of spasms through my body until I completely stilled.
I drew in a breath.
My skin, my body, my insides—afire.
“There’s nothing as sexy as watching you come.” He pulled me off the wall and lifted me again, placing me on top of the granite bench. It was on the far side of his shower, away from the heads. “Get on your knees.”
The bench wasn’t high enough for any other position; doggy style was the only way this would work. But before I flipped over, I ran my hands up his hard, etched thighs and licked the tip of his dick, where a bead of pre-cum was waiting for me. My palms pushed higher, tracing his happy trail, rounding each of his abs, all the way to his defined chest.
Even the hair on his body was incredibly erotic.
“You’re fucking killing me, Jovana.”
“You’ve waited this long. What’s another few seconds.”
He leaned down and slammed our mouths together, the taste of his tongue as warm as the pre-cum I’d just swallowed. And while he kissed me, he lifted me by the armpits, getting me into a standing position so it would be easier for me to kneel once he pulled away.
Which he did.
And growled, “I can’t wait a second longer.”
I smiled as I climbed onto the slick bench, holding the edge where the stone wall met the glass. He was there, without hesitation, poking at my entrance. As he pushed in, dipping to his tip, I reached under and cupped his balls.
“Goddamn it,” he hissed. “You feel so fucking good.”
I glanced over my shoulder, and his expression filled with hunger and need. “Was I worth the wait?”
He tightened his grip on my hips and slid all the way in. “Yesss.” His head fell back, his neck elongated, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Fuck me.”
I looked forward, too absorbed in my own body to focus on his, and the first of many moans came from my mouth. “Ahhh.”
Still so tingly from my orgasm, I didn’t know how he could make me feel this good, this quickly. But the passion was increasing and so were his thrusts.
“Jovana, you’re so tight.”
He was moving hard, his strokes deepening. Enough so that I needed both hands to hold on, and I released his sack and clasped my fingers around the edge of the stone.
The moment I did that, he reached underneath me and began to play with my clit. His skin so wet, it felt like his tongue, especially as he flicked the top, working that spot like he’d done earlier.
“Oh shit!” I flattened my palm against the glass, pushing against it every time he reared into me. “Grayson!”
“If you keep moving your hips like that, I’m not going to last.”
I was meeting him.
Arching forward and back.
Rocking to a rhythm.
The combination of wanting to help and please and urge my orgasm drove me to do it even quicker.
As soon as I stilled, he pulled out and turned me around, lifting me into the air and holding me against the wall.
This time, we were under a direct stream.
The water was pelting against his back, splattering my face and chest, the parts that weren’t shielded from his body. As he burrowed his cock, I wrapped around him, my legs clinging, my arms clutching.
My body now bucking with his.
“Jesus,” he moaned. “You’re fucking amazing.”
I mashed our lips together, the heat from his skin, the water, our intimacy—all hovering around me like a thick cloud.
I couldn’t breathe.
But I didn’t need to.
I just needed him.
And I needed ... “More.” I kept our mouths together. “Fuck me harder, Grayson. Please.”
I could tell my begging and pleading turned him on.
But it also set a fire under him, one that came with more power.
Strength.
And screams, because as soon as the build began to trickle in, I couldn’t stop them from leaving my mouth. “Fuuuck!” I swallowed. “Yes!” I silenced and then repeated “Yesss” as the wave crashed through me.
“You know what your pussy is doing right now? It’s sucking the cum out of me.”
Shudders were moving through my stomach, holding me hostage, keeping me from being able to respond.
“Fuck, you just got tighter.” He was pumping me so hard, his words were broken up into syllables. “And wetter. Goddamn it, Jovana.”
And that was when I felt him lose himself.
The first shot hit a place where I could feel the warmth. When he slid back and stroked in again, I felt the second shot.
The third.
And fourth.
“Fuck!” he yelled. “Fuck me!”
Even though I was releasing my own moans, my ride hitting its peak, I wasn’t lost to the sexiness of his sounds, the feral expression on his face, the dominance in his hands.
It was a look, a feel, an experience I would never forget.
And once we both began to slow, our noises lowering, our exhales coming out as pants, he kept us against the wall, not even moving us after we were still.
We hugged one another.
And we breathed.
“You’re sleeping in my bed tonight.”
For a moment, I thought I’d spoken those words.
They were in my head.
Deep in my thoughts.
But when I drew my face back and aligned our eyes, I knew it was him who had said it.
Instead of responding, I kissed him.
Differently this time.
More passionately.
And with love fueling my lips.