26. Grant #2
And Declan is showing me how to take new chances. I think I can be fearless too, like him. Starting in simple ways. Like talking about sex, about how we are together in bed. So, when we break the kiss, I say something that’s been on my mind, something that drives me crazy with him. “You’re noisy.”
He smiles, all dopey and sexy. “I know. I’m not quiet.”
“You sure aren't,” I say, with a grin, letting him know I like his sounds.
“Because I love sex,” he says, all low and smoky. “But not all sex.” He looks me in the eyes. “When I’m into the guy, that’s when I’m the loudest.” He lifts his face and kisses my smile with a sexy murmur, a flick of his tongue, a whisper. “And I’m really into you, rookie.”
A brand-new jolt of pleasure zips down my back.
But it’s not from the thrill of contact. It’s from something else entirely.
The things he says. The way he talks to me. And the way I want to talk to him.
He pulls back, flops onto the pillow, but keeps his gaze locked with mine.
My stomach flips.
That’s new too, and so is the next thing I say. “Yeah, I’m pretty into you too.”
A little later, we’re cleaned up, lazing around in bed and talking about a TV show we both like, a how-to documentary about strange things in New York.
His phone buzzes.
When Declan grabs it from the nightstand, I turn away. Don’t want him to think I’m prying as he reads a message.
“You like hockey?”
“Duh,” I answer.
“Smart aleck. Tomorrow’s our off day. Want to go to a hockey game tomorrow night?”
“With you?” I ask, surprised.
“No, with Lady Gaga.” Then, Declan strips any flirting or sarcasm from his tone as he glides his hand down my arm. “Yes, with me. My friend Emma and me. Her brother, Fitz, is playing."
I beam, sunshine flooding my body. “Dude. James Fitzgerald is a badass defenseman. Hell yeah. I'm in.”
“Good. They have an extra ticket so it can be you and me and Emma.”
The sound of that makes my chest warm up, maybe even do a happy dance. Perhaps it’s the endorphins talking, but I wiggle a brow, feeling bold with him, taking another chance. “Is she our cover?”
A grin spreads slow and easy as he runs a hand down my chest possessively.
“Yes. But I’m probably going to have to tell her we have a thing.
Easier that way. Plus, she’ll probably figure it out.
I tend to let down my guard with my good friends, and all it’ll take is me looking at you the way I like to and she’ll know. You cool with that?”
I hear the subtext— we agreed to tell no one . So, this breaks that rule.
But I like the subtext.
I like his hand on my chest.
I like how we are together.
“How do you like to look at me?” I ask, since I’m a glutton for compliments.
One searing-hot stare is his answer. “Like that, rookie. Like that,” he growls, his hand spreading across my pecs, curling over them.
“I'm cool with that,” I answer.
He drops a kiss to my jawline, rubbing his chin across my stubble. “It’ll kind of be like a date.”
And that’s another first for me too. “I'm looking forward to it,” I say in the understatement of my lifetime.
I’m looking so damn forward to it I wish it were tomorrow night now so I could go out with Declan Steele.
Then he pushes up on his elbow. “You want to talk about tomorrow?”
My brow creases. “About hockey? Pretty sure I know how hockey works. You hit the puck into a net, and it’s awesome, but baseball is better.”
“You’re all good there. But no. I meant sex, Grant. Your list. Our plans.”
My skin tingles. I love talking about sex with him. It’s freeing, but kind of terrifying too. “Sure,” I say on a rough swallow, waiting for him to go next.
He sets a hand on my hip, then slides it down to my ass, absently curving his palm over my skin. “Sex is better if you talk about it. Communication and all,” he begins.
“Right. Sure. At least, that’s what I’ve read online. I’m a master at reading articles on sex,” I say, pushing out a laugh, maybe to cover up my inexperience.
“Good. That’s all part of communication. But listen, it might not be perfect. It might hurt,” he says, gently squeezing my butt. “We can stop at any point.”
“I don’t want to stop,” I say, at the speed of light. Is he calling this off? Panic kicks in, swirling in my chest. “Do you want to?”
Please say no .
His brown eyes flash with affection. “Did you not hear me when I said I’m into you? Did you not feel me thirty minutes ago when I was playing with your ass? When I wanted so desperately to be inside you?”
Inside me.
He’s doing it again. Turning me on, breaking me down, making me ache for him.
I ache everywhere.
As the memories roar back, my hands skim over his hard body. “I was definitely there.”
“You know I want you, Grant,” he says in a firm voice that’s like a line in the sand. It says don’t question my desire .
“Yeah, I know that, Deck. It’s just...
” I can’t finish because the words are so foreign.
I just like you so much I don’t want to screw up.
You fascinate me and I can’t fucking believe you’re into me too.
I can’t believe you’re the first guy I’m going to sleep with, and that makes me feel like I won a World Series.
Which is a crazy thing to think, but there it is.
“You’re nervous?” he asks.
But maybe that’s it too. Simple, pedestrian nerves.
The basic human fear of not wanting to make a mistake.
I grit my teeth, breathe through my nostrils, then admit it.
“Yeah,” I say, and my chest lightens instantly.
My jaw unclenches. Maybe this is some of what’s winding me up.
The will-it-live-up-to-the-hype uncertainty.
Since he’s talking so openly with me, I dip my toe in those waters. “You know I told you I watched porn?”
“A very normal thing to do,” he says.
“And the guys, at least the kind I watch, are just all so...”
“Perfect? With perfect bodies? Perfect cocks? Perfect loads?”
I laugh. “Yeah, all that.” But quickly, I stop laughing. “Only, it’s not about the bodies. It's more that they all have... perfect moves.”
“I hear ya, rookie. Keep talking.”
“It all goes so perfectly. When they switch positions and stuff. When one dude flips the other to his back or his side, or all fours. They’re all like boom.
Back at it . And the second the bottom has a dick in his ass, he’s all like yes, so good.
And I kinda feel like... what if I just don’t know what to do?
What if it’s not like that? What if I don’t feel that way or make you feel that way? ”
“What if?” He tosses out at me. “What if, Grant?”
“I don’t know,” I say, raising my voice. “That’s my point. What if ?”
“You think I’m gonna smack you on the ass, pull out my dick, and walk off?”
I suppose a part of me did. Isn’t that what people do sometimes? Just leave you in the lurch?
“I hope not,” I admit.
Declan runs his hand down my chest. “I don’t need it to be perfect. You and me, we’re not making porn. We’re not trying to turn everyone else on. You’re the only one I want to make feel good.”
Now I am hot all over. But this heat rushing through me is so much more than physical. “I want it to be good for you, Declan.”
“It will be. It’s already better than it’s been before. Want to know why?”
“Tell me,” I say, heart skittering.
“Since we’re talking about it.”
“You do like to talk,” I tease.
“Talking is hot,” he says.
“And you said you weren’t chatty,” I say, getting my confidence back. “You are so chatty.”
“What can I say? I’m different with you,” Declan says, and my chest glows from those last four words. Four perfect words. I’m different with you.
“Are you?” I ask, hoping it’s not patently obvious how much I like what he’s saying.
“Seems I am. And that’s why I want you to know that it’s just you and me in bed,” he says, tapping my chest, then his. “We set the pace. We don’t have to please an audience. We can just make it good for each other.”
“It’s gonna be good,” I say, the corner of my lips curving into a grin. “I just know it. Gut feeling. I won’t be wrong.”
“Cocky, and I like it. But it might hurt. Just tell me if it does, okay? We can adjust.”
It’s cool that Declan is so caring, but I’ve got this.
“I will, but you know I’m a catcher, right? I’m bruised all over. Every game, I catch more than a hundred baseballs flying at me like rockets. Sometimes I catch them with my knees. I play and live with pain,” I say. “It is literally part of my job.”
“Show off.” Declan laughs, his head falling back into the pillow, his fingers sliding through his hair.
“And you know how to crouch for hours too, rookie. So, you can just ride me all night.” Then he lets the laughter fade as he reaches for me, pulls me closer so I’m looking down at him.
“All I’m saying is, for all your rough-and-tumble, badass baseball-is-life attitude, sex might be awkward.
It might be... uncomfortable. But if you tell me how you’re feeling, I’ll do everything I can to make it good for you.
” He takes a pause as his gaze bores into mine, vulnerability flashing in his brown irises.
“And you can do the same for me the next night when you top me. Deal?”
Best deal ever. “I’m good with that.”
Then he hauls me in for another kiss. Proving what he said earlier. How much he loves kissing me. I can feel it in his lips on mine. In his hands sliding down my back. In the murmurs he makes.
And when we break the kiss, I serve up another piece of my insides to him. “I kinda had a crush on you before I met you.”
His brow rises. “That so?”
“Yeah, you were hot and talented.”
“And am I living up to it? To your crush?”
I stroke my chin, considering. Then shrug a shoulder ever so casually. “Ask me tomorrow night.”
Declan laughs deeply. “Fair enough, rookie. Fair enough.” He glances at the door, but he doesn’t bother to get out of bed, or to check the peephole. He just shoots me a we’re-in-this-together look. “I should stay till the middle of the night,” he says.
“You should.”
“Then, I will.”
Here we go, doing it again, curling up together, his arm draped around me.
Only this time it feels completely intentional.
From both of us.