Chapter 19
Sophia
The Fourth of July
Kissing Grant was like hitting a live wire. It was subtle at first, like I couldn’t register the sensation right away. But when I did, my whole body came to life.
His fingers swept into my hair.
Zap.
I bit his bottom lip.
Zap.
He groaned my name.
Zap.
Each movement of our lips brought us closer together in the bed of his truck.
I’d wanted him to touch me earlier, but I never imagined it could be like this.
His tongue pressed against my lips, and when mine parted to give him more access, the jolts of electricity zipped down to my toes.
He tasted sweet and earthy, just like the joint had been, only the high I was getting from the kiss was so much better.
I whimpered when he slowed, and he chuckled. “Peach.” God, his voice had turned all husky and dark. His thumb swept across my cheek. “Peach, look at me.”
“I don’t wanna.”
He chuckled again. “I don’t know if that should hurt my pride or not.”
I shook my head and peeked at him with one, half-opened eye. “If I open my eyes, I’ll be back in my body.”
“Back in your body?” I nodded. “That good, huh?” I sighed and fell beside him, unhooking my leg from his.
He promptly grabbed my knee and hauled my leg back to where it had been.
Tangled up in him felt…right. “Don’t start pullin’ away from me now.
” I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes before he pulled me flush to his side, his skin warm against mine.
As I settled my cheek on his chest, I noticed just how fast his heart was beating.
“So, on a scale of one to a-fuck-ton, how much better am I at kissin’ than Walton? ”
I groaned as he started laughing. “So much better. I think.”
“You think?”
I drew idle circles along his chest. “I don’t really…we don’t…ya know.”
“No. I don’t.”
“I haven’t kissed Walton, or been kissed by him, since…well, a long time ago.”
I hadn’t noticed he was twirling my hair with his fingers until he stopped suddenly. “How long?”
“Do we really have to talk about him right now? After we just kissed?”
“I wasn’t askin’ for his sake, darlin’. I’m more concerned with why the fuck someone like you isn’t being worshipped twenty-four seven. I’d be a happy man kissin’ you every day for the rest of my life.”
“You say that now.”
“I’d say that always.” Grant pressed his lips to the top of my head. Zap. “You’re somethin’ different.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just turned my head up to the stars, my fingers smoothing over the lines of muscles on his stomach.
I felt Grant’s gaze linger on me, warming me more against the cool air until he shifted.
I started overthinking, wondering if he even wanted me this close since I wasn’t kissing him anymore, but when I tried to move again, he tsked and locked his hold down on me.
“You better be movin’ because you’re hungry.”
“Maybe.” I’d completely forgotten about eating.
Grant sighed, then planted another kiss on my forehead before pulling his arm from beneath me and sitting up. He looked like he wanted to say something as his eyes searched mine. Even in the dark, their color was so vibrant. So raw. When he glanced away briefly, I felt a dip in my chest.
“Let’s get you inside. I’ll go grab some more wood from the back and meet you there.”
I sat up, clutching the blanket hard around me. “I can wait for you.”
“I don’t want you gettin’ too cold.”
“I’m actually feelin’ pretty warm.” Thanks to you.
The corner of his lips went up. “Okay, Peach. You wait for me, then.”
The fire crackled across the room as we sat at the table, eating cold noodles.
The blanket around my shoulders loosened as heat filled the cabin.
I had so many thoughts, they all raced together, blurring up a storm in my mind.
Each touch under the table and every slight smile of acknowledgement when our gazes met only made it worse.
I didn’t know where we went from here, but did it matter? Could it matter? My life had never really been mine, not even when I lived in Georgia with Lyra. I knew where it all would end. But something about Grant made me feel weak, yet powerful, all at once.
It was dizzying.
“Want more?”
I blinked, my brows dipping as I realized I’d been staring at him and hadn’t noticed my plate was empty. “Huh?”
“Food.” He laughed and shook his head, spinning his fork to swirl some pasta onto it. “You want more? I made that entire box, so we have a lot.”
“I probably shouldn’t,” I said as my stomach gurgled.
“Eatin’ ain’t a crime, darlin’.”
I pressed my palm flat over my stomach as it gurgled again. I sighed and nodded reluctantly. “Okay. Fine.”
Grant grinned. “Atta girl.” I blushed as he reached for my plate, carrying both his and mine to the pot on the stove. “By the way, we might be eatin’ Twinkies for breakfast, unless you wanna go out.”
“Out?”
“Yeah. You know. Like, to a restaurant, or a diner.”
“You don’t need to keep payin’ for me. I usually skip breakfast, anyway.”
Grant’s head cocked. “By choice, or is that some weird Texas fad?”
I giggled. “I believe everyone does it, and it’s called fasting. Helps you lose weight. You know, what women are told to do to fit into things.”
Holding both plates, he turned with a serious look about him. “You look like you fit in that blanket quite alright to me.”
I rolled my eyes, taking the plate from him as he slid it toward me and took his seat. “You know what I mean.”
“Not sure I do, Peach. Aren’t your clothes supposed to fit you? Not the other way around? I mean, if it doesn’t fit, why try to fix your body when it’s the clothes that are all wrong?”
“Tell that to my stylist. I’m supposed to be dropping ten pounds this month.”
His fork lowered slowly from his mouth, food still on it as his jaw ticked. “Pardon me?”
“For, um…” I idly spun my fork, collecting a few noodles with no intention of eating them. “For the wedding.” I couldn’t look at whatever was written all over his features, but I could feel the tension rise.
He scoffed. “And who hired that stylist?”
I didn’t answer. He knew who already.
“Sophia, look at me.” I finally pried my attention from my plate, expecting rage to funnel from him and into me.
But the storm I knew could exist in the depth of his grey eyes was calm.
“Your body is gorgeous. Anyone who says otherwise is blind as all hell. You hear me?” I chewed the inside of my cheek and looked away from him, feeling a swift dip in my chest. He rose from the table, and seconds later, he was on his knees before me.
He dragged the chair to make it so I faced him there, on the floor, his head almost level with mine.
“I mean it. Anyone who says you need to lose ten pounds to fit into a dress is fucking insane. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, and if he can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you. ”
“And you do?”
“Probably not.” He smoothed his thumbs over my knees. “I don’t think anyone does, truthfully.”
I scoffed. “Like I’m anything special. There’s millions of women just like me. I’m nothing but a walking, talking ATM with average tits and a womb. Maybe the money makes me unique, but—”
“Shut up.”
He stood and stared down at me. I swallowed hard as my voice lowered. “What?”
“You heard me. I said shut up.” He didn’t let me reply before his lips were on mine.
I pushed at his chest, but devoured his kiss like it gave me the life I’d been missin’.
He picked me up, and the blanket fell from my shoulders as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
I heard the door get kicked open, the jolt from his leg pressing me deeper against him.
He groaned before dropping me onto the bed and settling above me.
“I—”
“I know, Peach. This ain’t about me, though. So, you just keep that safe word in your head, and you use it whenever you want. You’re the one in control. Okay?”
I bit down on my lip, my naked body exposed beneath him, yet he kept his eyes on mine. “Okay.”
His lips sealed to mine, soft and sweet and so unlike the hardness I felt pressed against my thigh.
Slowly, he moved, kissing my neck, trailing a line down to my breasts.
He cupped each one gently, kneading and kissing and licking, but never once ground against me to seek his own pleasure.
Not as he moved to the other, giving it the same attention before moving down the dip in my stomach and around my navel.
His tongue and lips and breaths teased, but gave. It was an odd mix, like he admired what he felt and saw and had beneath him, but wanted to keep it at that. Admiration. When he got to my hips, I heard his breath hitch and pictured his heart pounding just as hard as mine was.
“I’m going to kiss you here. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered.
Grant’s hooded gaze met mine as he kissed my hip, then lower.
Each brush of his mouth against my skin was pure heaven.
He worked lower until he was right above my pussy, and I watched as he slowly kissed his way down my slit.
I spread my legs more for him, and he glanced up at me again, watching me nod as he lowered his lips to my clit.
Fire raced through my veins, my breathing turned into pants as his tongue dipped between my folds, sweeping down and back up over and over with unhurried motions.
I stared down between my legs, keeping my body propped up by my elbows, watching as he savored me. Like he wanted me to feel special. And I did. For once, I felt important. Desired. Wanted in ways that, to me, were foreign, but appeared to come like second nature to Grant.
“Are you okay?” he asked, licking my arousal from his lips.
“Y-yes. Don’t stop.”