Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
GREYSON
A long, low, satisfied moan pulls me from the last lingering grips of sleep. The sun filters in through my bedroom windows, attacking my sleepy gaze, so I allow my lids to fall closed again.
A few more moments of sleep won’t kill me.
This time the moan is softer, and I realize my hand is…
I open my eyes and take in my surroundings. My lips, my fucking lips, are on sun-kissed skin that doesn’t belong to me. It takes less than a second for the events of yesterday to crash into me, and I wrench my head back.
I was kissing Savvy’s neck in my sleep. Her hand presses against the back of mine, and I give an involuntary squeeze to her tit.
My fingers are wrapped around her like she’s a goddamn lollipop, so I attempt to wrench my arm away, except she’s lying on it, so I can only let it fall to the bed beneath her.
“What the fuck, Monroe? I thought you said you weren’t a cuddler?”
She jerks awake. Her silky brown hair’s a wild mess on top of her head as she stares over her shoulder at me. Sleep lingers in her eyes as she licks her lips. It takes another three seconds before her brain catches up to her surroundings.
“I— I’m not a cuddler.”
“Then how do you explain this?” I shake my head between the two of us a bit aggressively. I should tone it down, but I can’t seem to control anything around this woman.
“This, as in you pressing your cock into my ass, with one hand on my breast and another cupping my pussy? Is that what you mean?”
Horrified, I remove my other hand, then glare at the back of her head.
“Or this, as in you’re on my side of the bed?”
I jerk away and sit up, and sure enough, three-quarters of the bed is empty, and we’re crowded on her side.
“You don’t have a side in my bed,” I grumble.
“True. But it doesn’t negate the fact that you’re on the side I was sleeping on. Are you, Greyson Reyes, a cuddler?”
Am I? I don’t think I am, but admittedly, women never sleep over because I didn’t want to set a bad example for Sage.
“No.”
Her smile broadens to show me all her very white teeth. I wish she didn’t have such a sexy smile—especially first thing in the morning.
“Are you sure?” She bumps my thigh with her leg, and my body jolts to attention, ready and wanting whatever she’ll give me.
Morning wood isn’t usually this complicated. Just chalk it up to yet another thing she’s ruining for me.
“I’m sure, Monroe.”
“What’s with the last name?” She tilts her head to study me as I slide back to my side of the bed.
Monroe is safer. It puts distance between us…much-needed distance.
I get out of bed, actively avoiding looking at her. I have to piss, so I head to the bathroom, but that’s difficult to do with a hard-on, so I think of every unsexy thing I can.
Madison’s grandfather, Pops, is a great boner-killer.
He’s always on my ass about something. Moose is too, but at least he’s mostly silent in his disapproving glares.
Then there’s old man Cracken who is a real ballbuster, but truthfully, I don’t think he’s half as cranky as he pretends to be.
Pops’ other friend, Chief, who is the retired police chief that refuses to give up his badge, is probably giving the actual chief of police a run for his money this morning.
Imagining the chaos the old geezers are creating makes me chuckle to myself, but it’s also what endears them to this town. They love and they love hard, even if they’re wildly inappropriate with their perceived duties sometimes.
My cock deflates enough that I’m able to piss without pain, and because the water is out, I search the cabinets for hand sanitizer, then leave it on the counter for Savvy.
She probably needs a toothbrush too. She’s lucky Braxton made me go to a warehouse that sells everything in bulk. Rooting around in a drawer, I pull out a new toothbrush, still in the box, and set it on the counter.
The last thing I need is Savvy believing I’m being nice to her. So, without a word, I exit the bathroom, then the bedroom. We’ll need bottles of water to brush our teeth, so the kitchen is my first stop.
I’m not doing it for her—she just happens to benefit from my own need to remove my funky morning breath.
In the kitchen, I grab a few bottles from the pantry, then pause. Women are always washing their face and shit, at least on TV. Why do I even care about this? Even as I think it, I’m already backtracking to the laundry room to grab her a fresh washcloth and towel before returning to my room.
Savvy stands in my bathroom with the door wide open, and she’s topless.
I like to believe that I’m an evolved man, but her tits have the power to turn me into a Neanderthal.
“What are you doing?” I grunt as annoyance takes over.
She jumps, crosses her arms while staring at me, then she shrugs. “I thought you were done in here.”
Focus on her eyes, Reyes. Focus. On. Her. Eyes. Exceptional peripheral vision can be a hazard at times.
I drop the bottles of water on the counter harder than necessary. “You need water to brush your teeth. Here.” I hold out a bottle in her general direction.
I know she’s going to do it before she even drops her arm. There’s a spark in her eyes that flashes when she’s ready to fight—or fuck. Right now, it could go either way, except that I decided we weren’t having that type of relationship anymore.
She drops her arms, and the stupid organ in my chest jackhammers against my ribs, silently telling me which direction every molecule in my body would like this to go.
Thankfully, my mind is a stubborn ass, and I stay rooted to my spot, angry that she’s topless, thankful that she’s topless, and annoyed that her being topless is the only thing I can focus on.
It’s impossible not to stare, so I turn away and grind my teeth until my jaw aches. The faster we’re done in here, the better.
“Grey?”
I face the mirror, grab my toothbrush, and she holds hers out next to mine. Because I’m already fighting my instincts to lick her nipples, I place toothpaste onto her toothbrush as well.
Do not react, Greyson. That’s exactly what she wants. Savannah is a woman who knows she’s sexy as hell, and she’ll use it to her advantage in the smartest possible ways.
Some women shy away from their sexuality, but not her. It’s what drew me to her in the first place. She knows what she wants, and she doesn’t hesitate to take it.
It’s also what annoys the hell out of me.
“Oh.” The surprise in her tone forces me to look at her in the mirror. That’s mistake number one because, try as I might, her breasts are a masterpiece, begging for attention. “This is why you always taste and smell like cinnamon.”
She’s talking with her mouth full of toothpaste foam. It covers the corners of her lips and reminds me what she looks like when it’s my come she’s holding in there.
This, us, we’re so messed up. We aren’t compatible, but I can’t stop envisioning sex with her either.
“It’s kind of weird,” she says, then spits into the sink.
My cock decides it really likes seeing her spit. Maybe even more than swallowing because when she spits, the muscles in her neck are on display, and her lips purse in the sexiest way.
“What’s weird?” Damnit. I forgot I don’t like her.
“I’ve never actually known anyone who uses cinnamon toothpaste.”
My mother used it, but I’m done sharing personal shit with this sexy little Benedict Arnold.
“Your limited world knowledge is none of my business.” I jam my toothbrush against my gums so hard they’re probably going to bleed.
“You know what I think?” The woman fucking purrs as she rests her ass on my counter, close enough that my arm would brush her tits if I leaned over.
“I don’t care what you think, Monroe.”
She pushes her breasts higher when she crosses her arms under them.
“Where’s your shirt?” I bark.
She points to the shower, where the remains of her clothes lay in a puddle.
“Where’s my shirt?” My resolve is crumbling. If she stays in my space, I’m not sure what I’ll do.
“I forgot the water wasn’t working, and when I turned it on to brush my teeth, it spluttered and spit out brown shit all over me.
I had just wiped up the counter with it and tossed it into your hamper when you so rudely barged back in here.
I figured since the last time we had sex you left bite marks all over my boobs, it didn’t matter if you saw them again now. ”
“It doesn’t matter. And that was at Christmas, not yesterday.”
“Right.” She smiles, and I get the impression she’s forming a devious plan right in front of me.
“I don’t really give a shit if you prance around here naked, Monroe. Our physical relationship is a thing of the past.”
“Right,” she purrs again. “Because you said we’re done.”
“Yes.”
Her shoulder tips up, and from my exceptional peripheral vision, I see her reach for the ties of my pants she’s wearing.
I lift the bottle of water to my lips, rinse, then lean to the side to spit right when she allows the pants to drop. Then I chug the rest of the water and exit the room.
I need fresh air. Savvy makes it too hard to breathe, so I find myself on my front porch. In the morning light, everything comes into stark, depressing focus.
My land is destroyed. After promising Moose to take care of it, one hurricane touches down and decimates the land he was building his forever on. The water has receded, but not nearly as much as I would’ve liked, so I can’t tell what we’re dealing with beyond the house.
“What is that?” Savvy’s voice carries humor I don’t feel, and I’m instantly on alert.
How can she find anything about this funny?
“Is—is that Moose?” She joins me on the porch and leans forward on the railing. I grip the hem of her T-shirt and haul her back to me.
“Don’t lean on that. We don’t know if it’s structurally sound.”
She shrugs me off, her face still pointed to the lake that used to be a yard. Her scent wafts into my space when she waves with both hands, and I need to get away from her, so I step to the side. Then I see what she’s waving at.