47. Noah
“I’m headed out. I’m finna get True and?—”
“Have coffee with me first,” Greyson interrupted, handing me my favorite mug with a sleepy smile. It was later than we usually woke up, but we’d been up later than we usually were with True all night. She’d just climbed out of bed and left an hour ago to shower at her cabin and get all the ski gear she’d bought over the past week.
“This decaf?” I questioned, studying the beige contents of the cup. I already knew it was. Greyson knew how I liked my coffee even though I rarely drank it, but I was all out of words and defaulting to small talk because I was nervous as shit about my parents arriving today.
Something told me he knew that and it was the reason he was trying to slow me down.
Greyson nodded. “Decaf. Cream, no sugar,” he recited as I took my first sip.
My eyes slid closed while the coffee warmed me from the inside out. And the next time I opened them, Greyson was closer than before, standing directly in front of me with a quizzical tilt of his head. His coffee was gone, set aside on the counter behind him and his hands were deep in the pockets of his sweats.
“I told you to stop worrying about me.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” he retorted, his voice soft and his breath coasting over my mouth because of how close we were. “I’m always gonna worry about you, Noah. Why do you fight it when people give a fuck about you?”
Because it was foreign. It felt wrong . Like something other people experienced, just not me.
Soft lips grazed my temple while he promised, “I’m never gonna stop giving a fuck about you, Noah, so get used to it.” Then he was kissing down the side of my face and over my throat, leaving wet trails on my skin.
“Greyson, I gotta go.”
“I know,” he whispered, still kissing on me. “You want me to stop?”
“No.” It was the only word I said but it sounded hoarse and distant.
“Good,” he murmured before pulling my bottom lip into his mouth and sucking.
Fuck. Every time he did that, I got hard. And every time I got hard, I wanted him to do something about it.
He didn’t taste like whiskey or mint today.
He tasted like coffee.
He tasted like home.
He tasted like mine.
A territorial switch flipped in my head and I took over the kiss, walking us back to the counter’s edge until his back was pressed against it. Shoving my tongue against his, I grabbed the back of his head, pushing my body into him until I felt his erection against mine. “Fuck, Grey.”
He let me corner him, sucking and pulling at his tongue. I bit his lip. I grabbed him tighter. I needed him as close as he could get and when he was, I wanted him in my skin.
I was drunk on his kisses, drunk on this feeling. I loved it. I wanted it forever.
And the way he took it, the way he let me devour his mouth like it was a hiding place for my tongue, told me maybe he wanted that too. Or I was delusional from the way his erection twitched in his pants every time I kissed him harder.
Greyson surprised me by reaching between us and stroking over my erection. The pressure of his palm was the exact relief I needed and I sighed into his mouth, my hips moving on their own to chase his touch.
He wasn’t kissing me anymore. He was staring at me, transfixed with his mouth slightly ajar.
Every time he rubbed my dick through my pants, I whimpered a little and I wasn’t even ashamed because it felt good. He felt good . Just like that, I was already so addicted to having his hands on me.
But before I could get used to the friction of his hand against my dick, it was gone and Greyson was biting his lip, his eyes moving nervously over my face.
“Why’d you stop?” I tried to keep the edge out of my voice. Even as blood roared in my ears and my heart drummed in double-time against my ribs.
“Because I don’t know how to do this.” He swallowed, not breaking eye contact. There was something so fucking sexy about him not running from me right now. He looked uncomfortable as hell, but he stayed right in front of me. “I don’t know how to make you feel good.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. This was the first time he was touching me. When we got her in the house last night, True had been our only concern. We took turns making her come and I watched him fuck her to orgasm with my hand wrapped around my dick. I loved watching them, but now I wanted him to touch me. Wanted him to know there wasn’t a wrong way to please me because half my pleasure came from him wanting to in the first place.
“You were off to a good ass start,” I told him, happy when laughter filled the thick silence wedging its way between us.
Greyson cocked his head like he thought I was lying, but I pulled his hand back against my pants and kept my hand over his when my dick started straining again, desperate for the release I was denied minutes ago. “It felt good and I didn’t tell you to stop,” I rasped.
“Fuck, Noah,” he breathed.
When I was sure he wouldn’t move his hand again, I let go of it and reached into his sweats to grab him.
He wasn’t wearing boxers, so he pulsed against my palm, hot and leaking precum against my knuckles.
I reconnected our mouths and moaned every time he stroked me. His hips started moving the same time mine did and we thrust against each other’s hands until he was biting down on my lip.
“Noah, you…” He didn’t finish his words. He couldn’t. His eyelids formed the tiniest slits and he stared at me through them, rocking his hips into my hand while his dick grew thicker.
He didn’t stop touching me either. He had found a rhythm to match the way my hips jerked against his touch. He felt so fucking good and I was gonna let him make me come in my pants.
I didn’t give a fuck how messy it was, as long as he didn’t stop touching me.
Freeing my hand from his sweats, I wet my palm with my spit and grabbed him again, smiling against his mouth when his head rolled back and he moved against my hold on him faster.
He fucked my hand with his tongue around mine and watching him get off from my touch made my orgasm hit me without warning. The feeling overwhelmed my senses until all I could do was spasm against his hand while ropes of cum wet up my briefs. “Shit, Greyson, that felt so fucking good.”
He was right behind me, groaning my name and hiding his face in my neck while he came undone in my hand.
Still trying to get closer, he wrapped a hand around my torso and pulled me flush against him at the last minute, fucking against my hand until he froze and sank his teeth into my neck, sucking and kissing me hard.
Greyson was coming for me. I watched the way his body spasmed from the unexpected release, his shoulders jerking while his abs contracted.
Breath coming out in hisses.
Chest knocking mine with every inhale.
Voice hoarse and pleading.
His cum hit my hand in spurts, and his guttural groan vibrated against my chest.
When he pulled his head from my neck and looked at me again, his glasses were a little crooked to match the smile he flashed me.
“Sorry if I made you late.”
“Yea, fucking right,” I laughed, releasing his softening erection and pulling my hand free. The cum decorating my palm and the back of my hand felt like a win. I’d made Greyson come for me, and he was staring at me like he wanted to do it again. I’d made a mess for him in my pants and I already wanted to do it again.
With a tortured groan, I stumbled away from him because I wasn’t sure I had the willpower to resist him and actually get out of this house. And if True walked through the door, I knew my willpower would evaporate. I would find a way to get them both back in bed and have my way with them. But we had shit to do today, so it would have to wait for tonight.
Turning away from him, I headed down the hall, back to my room. I needed to get ready for the day all over again, but it was so fucking worth it.