Chapter 10
10
TESSA
“We need rules,” Grant said as I slid the car into park.
“Okay,” I agreed slowly. “Like what?”
He sighed. “I want to go on the record as saying this is a terrible idea.”
I pressed my lips together, fighting a smile. “The sex or the rules?”
His eyes narrowed slightly as they fell on my lips, surely taking in the smile I couldn’t fight. “The sex, Tess. Obviously the sex.”
“Is acknowledging the terrible idea one of your rules?” I bit my upper lip, rolling it between my teeth, but still the smile was visible and Grant growled in frustration, reaching out to grasp the back of my head once more. I expected another of his rough, bruising kisses as he pulled me close, but he stopped before our lips met. I was mildly disappointed, because I’d already decided I liked those kisses—or maybe I just liked when Grant kissed me like that.
“You’re maddening, Tessa Davis.”
“Really? Most people find me very agreeable,” I replied honestly, though I knew it would only irritate him more.
“Yes, well, I have a theory about that.”
Count on Grant to put the smile on my face and wipe it away just as quickly. “You do? What’s your theory?”
He sighed impatiently. “I’ll explain later. Right now we need to get these rules in order before I lose all ability to think straight.”
“Okay, rules,” I said, brushing my fingers down his dark beard. I’d felt it against my face, but had been longing to touch it all night. “My only rule is this should stay between us—I don’t really want to deal with my family—but you knew that. What were you thinking?”
“I want you to be mine,” he said.
My pulse thundered in my ears. “What?” I asked, not because I hadn’t heard him, but because I needed a minute to process how good those words sounded.
“I mean, when you’re mine, I want you to be only mine.” He sighed. “I don’t want you to date, but I don’t think that rule is fair to you. The whole point is to avoid catching feelings so we can move on from each other.”
Should I be worried that I’d already forgotten getting over each other was the point of this exercise? “So, the rule should be no catching feelings,” I suggested. Easier said than done, but maybe if it were a rule…
“No, that doesn’t make any sense,” Grant said, and I glowered at him, because while I didn’t mind being corrected, he really was so damn blunt all the time. “Sorry,” he said, running his thumb over my cheek. “The first thing that comes out of my mouth is usually the wrong thing.” Of course, I had noticed the first words out of Grant’s mouth were most often the unfiltered truth. I found it exhilarating as often as I found it annoying. “My point is, you can’t make a rule out of something you can’t control. That’s not what rules are.”
“Semantics,” I said.
“No, not at all. I already have feelings for you, Tess—lust, certainly, but I also just like you. I can’t control that. Believe me, if I could, I’d get rid of it.”
My eyebrows pulled down into a frown before I could tell myself to stay neutral.
“For you. I’d get rid of it for you. You’ve been clear from the beginning you don’t want this.”
I sighed, growing impatient. “You’re right. Maybe this is a mistake.”
Grant snorted darkly. “It’s absolutely a mistake,” he agreed, “but here are my rules. One, we will each notify the other if we plan to date someone. Two, It’s okay to walk away any time. Three, no matter what happens, we’ll treat the other with respect—no fighting or silent treatment or outing the relationship to the families.”
“Okay,” I said. “Those are good rules.”
“And four, no beds.”
“No sleeping over, you mean?”
“I mean, no beds.”
I widened my eyes meaningfully. “Grant, I’m not having sex up against a wall every night.”
He shrugged. “Perfect. You’ll run out of patience and be ready to move on. Isn’t that what we want to happen?”
“Yes, but I wanted it to happen in a bed .”
Our faces had been so close for so long it took me by surprise when his lips touched mine. This was tender Grant again, his lips brushing and lifting, over and over. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “If you put us in a bed, before you know it I’ll be laying you out, making love to you.”
Goosebumps ran over my body, and I recognized this full body chill as the same kind I got at the end of good romantic movies. “You’re going to have to sell me on this no bed idea.”
“I promise you won’t be disappointed,” he assured me, but I already felt the familiar twinges of disappointment, and I wanted to suggest my own rule: I get all of Grant—the barely restrained man who kissed me until I was out of breath and the tender sweetheart who risked his heart on me—but instead I said, “Rule number five, don’t disappoint me.”
“You have condoms?” he asked as we entered the laundry room that attached my garage to the main house.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Do you have a home assistant?”
“Yeah.”
“Go get a condom and turn on your favorite song,” he commanded. “Put it on repeat.” I liked his commands, and this time I knew it was Grant I liked—I would never tolerate another man speaking to me like that. But Grant wasn’t using that tone to boss me around, he was using it like a cue for me not to argue with him. And I didn’t. I walked to my bedroom, got two condoms—just in case—and walked back to him.
“Alexa,” I said as I walked, my voice easily reaching the kitchen, where the Echo resided, “play ‘All of Me’ on repeat.”
The song began to play and I found Grant standing in the open space of my living room. I held the condoms up to him, spread like a magician with a deck of cards, and he took them from me, setting them on the back of the couch and pulling me close. I expected his lips to find mine, but he raised a hand instead, and I placed one palm in his, settling the other on his shoulder. The large hand on my spine moved me effortlessly. “You’re a better dancer than you think.”
I snorted. “That’s you doing everything.”
“Most people can’t get out of their heads well enough to be led.”
“Well, Grant, you have a magical way of clearing out my thoughts.” Except for the feel of his hand on my back, his breath on my cheek, the way his lips tilted into a smile just for me—those things filled my thoughts, but I didn’t mind them there.
Grant spun me, just like he had the other times we’d danced, but this time when I spun back he held me tight, my back to his front. “When you’re mine, you’re mine, Tess,” he growled in my ear.
“I am,” I agreed breathily.
“I’m going to make you mine. I’m going to make this song mine, so every time you hear it, all you feel is me.”
His voice was so low and needy, and my breath was coming in short gasps.
“I’m going to bend you over this couch and I’m going to fuck you properly, Tess. No one is going to interrupt us this time and I’m not going to stop until I feel you come.”
“Fuck,” I breathed out. Grant snaked an arm around my waist, keeping me close while I bent forward over the arm of my couch. John Legend crooned behind us.
Grant lifted my skirt slowly, then used two hands to tug on each side of the leggings I wore beneath until they fell to the floor. I stepped free and kicked them out to the side. Grant’s hands were already on my panties, sliding over the cotton in long strokes that made me squirm. “You’re beautiful,” he said.
“So are you,” I replied, the words tiny puffs of air while his fingers spread me through my underwear, stroking gently.
Grant laughed. “So you say.” The panties came off at a glacial pace, and though I couldn’t see him, I was pretty sure he bent low to remove them, sliding first over one foot and then the other. Goosebumps erupted when his warm hands glided up the back of my calves to my thighs.
He ran the backs of his fingers between my legs, and while he didn’t comment and I certainly didn’t plan to, I knew he found me wet and ready, because I wanted him. Finally one hand reached around my hip, finding my clit and circling it. I moaned, rolling my hips against his hand, impatient for a release I’d been imagining for months.
I widened my stance when he tapped my hip, feeling his cock run along my folds, then brought my legs back together when he prompted me. The first thrust rubbed against my clit and I moaned, the sound echoed by Grant.
But, despite how great it felt, after a few more thrusts, I was becoming worried. “Grant, you’re not…”
“It doesn’t feel good?” he asked quickly, his thrusts slowing to a stop. I squirmed under him.
“No, it feels amazing, but you’re just in my thighs, not my vagina.”
Grant laughed, and I wished I had a better view of him. “I’m not some teenage virgin, Tess. I’m an adult man, and a physician to boot. I definitely know where your vagina is.” The tip of one finger teased my entrance, as if to prove his point, then he pressed two fingers inside of me, hooking them to find my g-spot and thrusting so his cock rubbed my clit at the same time. I gasped at the sensation, and Grant paused. “Was that sound good or bad?”
“Good,” I moaned. “So good.”
A low hum of appreciation was his only reply, and then he began the slow thrusts again, now pairing the thrusting of his cock with the movement of his fingers. I gasped again, rotating my hips, suddenly so close and needing something more.
As if recognizing my needy impatience, Grant pulled his cock out from between my thighs and replaced it with his free hand, making quick little flutters against my clit while his fingers pumped into me. “Grant,” I whispered, but he didn't reply—not with words, and soon it was too much—too good. I cried out, grasping at the couch cushions in an effort to find something to ground me, but Grant didn’t stop, continuing until I was wrung out and trembling, draped over my own couch. Then his hands were gone, and I rolled my head to one side, knowing I should stand up and fix my clothes. John Legend crooned from the kitchen behind us.
“Stay there,” he said, as demanding as the first time, and I twisted to see him better over my shoulder. He now stood behind me, his bare chest wide and muscular, holding the curve of my hips in each hand. “You okay?” he asked tenderly when our eyes met.
“Nope,” I replied. “I think you broke me.”
A tiny quirk of his lips was the only indication he knew I was joking. “You want to stop?”
I straightened my spine, effectively wiggling my ass in his hands, and Grant chuckled. I could feel him lined up, and I realized I was holding my breath, waiting for him. He pressed forward and I exhaled, the breath coming out like a hum. “Touch yourself. I want to feel you come again.”
He spoke after that—sweet things, hot things, it was hard to remember—there was only sensation. Grant’s body over me, his fingers digging into my hips, the amazing sting of his thighs as they slapped into mine—it was a growing crescendo my fingers danced to, until my body was lost to orgasm. Behind me, Grant groaned through his final thrusts, but still my fingers moved, taking every last bit of ecstasy greedily.
For many seconds we lay, Grant draped over me and me draped over the couch, and then he stood, pulling me with him, and I turned to face him as he pulled off the condom. He searched my eyes, but I wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “Maybe throw the condom away?” I suggested, and his lips tilted up in a wry grin.
“Was I too rough? Would you tell me if you didn’t like something?”
My eyes went wide in faux dismay. “I thought you were a grown man, and a physician to boot. Are you telling me you haven’t figured out how to tell if a woman is turned on?” Grant rolled his eyes, but I continued before he could speak. “I think you know me well enough to know I will absolutely tell you if I don’t like something. Everything here—” I made a waving motion over the couch behind me, “—was spectacular.”
“Good,” he said, giving me a sweet smile before he turned to walk to the kitchen garbage. He looked over one shoulder and said, “I should probably go before we end up in a bed.”
I hated the words even as he said them, but I understood why he made the rule. Grant would be ridiculously easy to fall for. I was already prepared to throw his rules out the window and drag him back to my bed, but I knew he didn’t want that.
I watched the flex of his ass as he moved, John Legend filling my ears. The song already made me think of Grant, but now I’d never hear it without remembering this night. “Grant?” I called out, and he glanced back through the kitchen door, a question on his face. “While you’re in there, can you turn off the music?” He nodded, and I heard him command the machine to stop in that low, sexy voice of his. The sudden silence made me a little sad, but it was necessary. The next time I heard this song, I didn’t want the memory to include saying goodbye.