Chapter 12
Gray
Despite the victory high that still rushes through my veins, I decide to go back to my room and order room service instead of hitting the local clubs to party with the guys. The idea of being out holds little appeal. What would I do? Dance? Hook up with some girl?
I can’t dance anymore without thinking about Ivy’s horrific moves and wanting to see them again. And the thought of touching someone other than Ivy does absolutely nothing for me. Scratch that, the thought of touching someone else makes my dick want to retreat like a turtle into its shell—an image that creeps the ever-loving hell out of me, but there you go.
When I make my intentions known, Johnson tries to check my brow, convinced that I am coming down with something. I slap his hand away. Dex just turns his attention to picking out a place to go.
Unfortunately Drew and Anna are with us. Their knowing looks chafe. I’d given Drew hell when he’d started foregoing clubs because he was clearly gone on Anna. So I am not surprised when he leans close to Anna and says in a voice obviously meant to carry, “Fifty bucks says he calls her within the hour.”
Anna’s green eyes narrow as she slants a look at me. “Gray does like his food, though. I’m thinking he’ll eat first, then call.”
“And I’m thinking you both can kiss my left—”
Drew’s elbow to my gut cuts off my words.
Scowling and rubbing my admittedly empty belly, I leave them to their night, almost making it to the elevator before Anna calls out, “Give Ivy my best!”
I flip Anna the bird as the doors close on their laughter. But I’m not really pissed.
They’re right; I am going to call Ivy. I cannot fucking wait to hear her voice. Her absence is an emptiness in my chest.
However, Anna knows me well, because I order room service first. After a hot shower, my food is here. I don’t bother dressing but settle down to eat. I could call Ivy now, but I hold off, playing a waiting game with myself. How long can I take it? How much do I need her?
The questions bounce around in my head as I chomp down my steak with record speed.
By the time I lie back on my bed and pick up my phone, my heart quickens in anticipation of hearing her voice. In other words, I’m totally screwed. But I’m willing to dive in anyway.
She answers on the third ring. “Heeee!”
“Jesus, my eardrums, Mac.” Despite the fact that my ear is ringing from her squeal, a huge grin pulls at my face.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m just so fricking happy for you, Cupcake.”
And there it is: the warmth that’s been missing in the center of my chest.
Still smiling, I rub the area as if to keep it from going cold again. “You watch the game?”
“You know I did. You rocked it.”
“Eh, I wasn’t bad.”
“Oh, sure, not bad at all. Only eleven pass completions, one hundred twenty-four yards, and two touchdowns.” Ivy’s tone is dry. “Are you fishing for compliments, Cupcake?”
I love that she knows the game.
“Maybe,” I say with a smile. “Would have been better if you were here.”
Ivy huffs. “Are you going to guilt me over this for the rest of our lives?”
“I don’t know. Are we going to be together for the rest of our lives?” My breath hitches at the thought of forever with her, and I laugh to cover it up.
But she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s as saucy as ever. “Not if you keep bitching like a cranky old man.”
I snort and stroke my chest in an idle rhythm. But it doesn’t really settle me. I’m too twitchy, my bent knee rocking as I talk to her.
“We’re coming back tomorrow. Want to do something?”
“Sure.” There’s a noise in the background like she’s moving around, fussing with something. Ivy’s never still. She’s a lot like me in that regard. “So are you going out?”
“No, I’m in for the night.”
“What? Why?” She’s so freaking cute when she’s irate. “You should be out celebrating.”
Smiling, I reach over and grab my headphones so I can talk hands-free. “I’m celebrating with you.”
Awkward silence follows, and I inwardly curse my big mouth. “Mac?” I ask when the moment stretches too far. “You there?”
“Yeah... I’m here.” Her voice is soft, hesitant. “I just... I wish I was there. I should have been there for you.”
“You’re here.” My hand stops over my heart, and I spread my fingers wide, pressing down as if it can ease the ache inside. “Now, I mean. This counts too.”
“Gray?”
“Yeah?” I whisper.
“Are we good? I mean, what I said—”
“I told you, Mac. We’re good. Can we just move past it?” Fuck if I want this tension between us anymore. It’s killing me.
“Okay, okay.” More scuffling noise comes from her side of the phone. “Grumpy Gus.”
“That’s Sir Grumpy Gus to you.” I smile a little. “What are you doing? I hear noises.”
“What noises?” Mac says in a stage voice that makes me smile full-out. “I’m not hiding a body, I swears!”
“Har.”
“I’m getting into bed, if you must know.”
Instantly, my body goes tight. It doesn’t help that I’m naked and spread out on a bed. It’s a strain to sound unaffected. “You want me to let you go?”
“Nope.”
Somehow I can hear her slide under the covers. The little hairs on my skin stand on end. My hand edges down to my abdomen, the muscles hard and tense there. I imagine Ivy’s hand running along my skin and suppress a groan.
As it is, a small grunt escapes me, and I hurry to speak. “I’m getting into bed too.”
“Jesus, you really are acting like an old man. Are you sure you’re all right?” The affection in her voice comes through loud and clear. “I feel like I should be pressing a hand to your fevered brow.”
“I’m tired, Mac,” I tell her lightly. “And if you don’t cut it out, I’m going to hang up. Would serve you right if I am sick and end up wasting away from some sort of Victorian disease. Then how will you feel? Knowing you let me go.”
“What kind of disease are we talking about? Like consumption? Or cholera?” Mac snickers into the phone. “If it’s cholera, you’re on your own, Cupcake.”
“Cute.” I rest my hand behind my head, getting more comfortable. “Mac?”
“Yeah?”
“You said it was bad. The sex, I mean, and—”
“Gray!” Her exasperation is sharp. “Didn’t we just agree not to talk about that anymore?”
I wince, feeling like an ass and cursing my big mouth.
“Shit, yes. I know. It’s... Okay, fine, it’s bugging me. Not,” I interject before she can speak, because I can hear her taking an indignant breath, “because you aren’t having sex. But you said it was bad. And I want to know why.”
“Why?” she repeats faintly.
My heart pounds against my ribs. “Did he... Did he hurt you, honey?”
It’s inexcusable that I haven’t made certain until now. And I will burn the fucking earth down if he did.
Mac’s soft voice comes at me through the buzzing in my head. “No, Gray. No, not that.”
She goes silent, and I take the moment to draw in a deep, not-so-steady breath, nodding even though she can’t see me. Relief makes me sag further into the pillows.
When she speaks again, it’s low and tense. “It was just... Gah! The foreplay was awesome. I wanted it, Gray. Badly, you know?”
Again, I nod. My voice seems to have left the building. I don’t really want to think about some fuckwit giving Ivy “awesome” foreplay. Why did I have to ask?
“I mean, I planned for it, went to the doctor’s and got on the pill and—”
“That’s some dedicated planning for your first time.”
She makes an annoyed noise. “I know. But that’s how I am. I plan. I commit. And I don’t trust condoms to—”
“You don’t?”
“To protect against diseases, yeah, but you do realize they have about an eighteen percent failure rate for birth control?”
I don’t want to even think about failure rates. The idea that little Grays could be out there gives me the willies. But I chuckle instead, wanting to change the subject. “Okay, okay, lesson learned, Doctor Sex Ed.”
She snorts. “I was sixteen. I did not want to get pregnant, and I figured if I worried about that, I wouldn’t have any fun.”
And that strange dichotomy is my Ivy. Super planner mixed with a free spirit who goes with the flow. A surge of affection hits me, and I sink further into the pillows.
“Anyway,” she drawls as if to say I’d taken her off track and not to do it again. “I was all in. But then we got down to it, and he basically...er...”
I can almost hear her embarrassment.
“He didn’t get the job done?” I offer wryly.
She huffs out a laugh. “It was just so fast. Jab, jab, jab, strangled cry, done!”
Despite myself, I laugh too. “Pretty sure that’s how most high school guys do it, Mac.”
“Yeah, well, from what I’ve heard, most college guys do it that way too. Once they get the green light, it’s so long, foreplay, hello, fast fuck. Thanks, but no thanks.”
What can I say to that? We can be selfish bastards. I wince inwardly, thinking of the times I took my own pleasure, accepting it as truth when the girl beneath me acted as if I was a god simply because I chose to stick my dick into her. My face burns. Fuck, I’m an asshole.
Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose as I talk. “How would you want it to go, Mac? If you could have it your way?”
“What?” There’s a protracted half laugh from her. “Sex?”
“Yeah.” It’s weak, barely audible, but I have to ask her.
The silence on the other end has a weight that I feel in my chest. “Come on, Mac. It’s just me.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Maybe because most of us guys need a wake-up call.”
Maybe because I want to know how to please you. Or I’m a dirty bastard who needs to hear your honey-smooth voice talk about sex. Take your pick.
Anxious, yet filled with anticipation, I rub the flat of my belly again. “Tell me. Tell me how it would be good for you.”
Her breath hitches, and for a moment I think I’ve gone too far. But when she speaks, it’s in a whisper that has an edge to it, one that sends heat straight to my cock. Because she sounds excited, tempted. “Just between us?”
My breath quickens, lighter, faster. God, this is stupid. So fucking stupid, like opening Pandora’s box. I’ll regret it, I know. And yet...
“Just between us.”
She makes a little, strangled noise. “I can’t... Okay, okay. Screw it.” Another soft breath, and then, “It would start out slow. Just kissing. That lazy sort of kissing that goes on and on, all soft and melting, until you’re drugged with it and your lips are all swollen and sensitive. And you’re just kind of breathing each other in, you know?”
I swallow reflexively, my voice totally gone. No, I don’t know that kind of kissing.
I’ve never had the desire to go there with any girl. But fuck, I can imagine kissing Mac that way. Learning her mouth, shaping her lips with mine. Mine thrum with the need to feel hers, to sink into her taste.
Her soft voice glides over my skin. “And then he’d touch me.”
“Are you standing up or lying down when he touches you?” It’s a rasp, and a miracle I got the words out, I’m wound so tight.
She pauses. “I don’t know.”
“Are you... Are you lying down now?”
“Yeah.” It’s a gentle whisper.
My breath hitches, and I actually shiver.
“Then you’re lying down. On your back.” I close my eyes, images flooding my head. “Your hair spread out on the pillow. Your eyes on him, watching what he does to you.”
Her soft breath is in my ear. “He runs his fingers along my neck, his touch barely there. But I feel it. Burning a trail over my skin, down to my collarbone. And it gets me so hot, waiting for him to unbutton my shirt.”
“You want him to see you, don’t you, honey?” And, oh, fuck, I can imagine it, spreading open Ivy’s shirt, exposing her smooth skin.
“Yeah,” she says. “My...” A huff of breath. “My nipples are so hard. Aching.”
Jesus. “And he slides that shirt apart. Exposes your sweet tits to his gaze.”
Ivy makes a sound. A moan. My lower gut clenches like a fist.
I can’t breathe. Can’t fucking think. Slowly my hand eases down over my stomach, shivers breaking out in its wake. I shouldn’t do this. I can’t stop.
I’m so hard that my dick has a heft to it, like it’s a separate entity, pulsing with the need to fuck, fuck, fuck. I give it a squeeze to alleviate the pressure, and it throbs against my palm. My teeth dig into my lower lip as I hold in a groan. I’m so fucking hot and thick I’m surprised I haven’t come already.
“What does he do to you next?” I practically beg as I give myself a small tug.
“He sucks my nipple.” Her voice is a stroke along my balls. “Gently, so all I can feel is his warm, wet mouth. And it drives me crazy. I want it harder.”
As if obeying her command, I fist myself tighter. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I arch up into his mouth, seeking it. But he doesn’t give it to me. Not yet.” Her breath is coming on faster now, her voice light and agitated. “He flicks my nipple with his tongue, plays with it. Giving it little sucks, long, lazy licks.”
I shudder, and I swear she does too. My tongue hits the roof of my mouth. If I close my eyes, I can feel the tight bud of her nipple there.
“They throb, Gray.”
Oh, Jesus. I squeeze my eyes shut against the sound of her plea, so thick with need that it makes me ache. “Pinch them,” I grit out. “Give them a tweak.”
And she does. Holy hell, she does. A small, muffled whimper comes through the speakers, and my dick jumps in response. I’m full-out jacking myself now. Every inch of me vibrates.
Ivy. Her soft breaths are driving me crazy. And I know, I fucking know she’s touching herself too.
“Are you wet, honey? Has he made you wet?”
“So wet. Wet and swollen. It’s trickling between my thighs. I hurt. I need...” She makes a little hiccup of sound. “I need...”
“You need him to touch you, baby. Ease that ache. Rub your clit, spread all that slick sweetness around.”
“God.”
“Would he finger you? Would he fuck you with his fingers? Push them in and out, nice and slow?”
“Yes.”
I lick my lips. “I think he’d have to taste you, honey. I think he’d need that so badly. To know how sweet you truly are.”
“I want him to. I want his mouth there.”
“It is. He’s lapping you up. Making you scream his name.”
“Gray.”
“I know. I know.” I’m barely aware of what I’m saying anymore, only that I need more. The bed squeaks beneath me as I jerk myself.
Ivy’s breathless voice is disjointed, hitching over the words. “I... You... He needs to fuck me. I can’t take it any longer.”
“You want him to sink his cock into you?”
“Yes.”
“Pump into your tight heat like he’d die if he stopped?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, fuck, he wants that too. He wants it so much he can’t think of anything else.” I’m so hot, I’m leaking come. It weeps over the swollen head, coats my shaft as my fist moves faster, harder.
“I want him to fuck... Fuck me. Gray...”
And then I hear it. The sweetest fucking sound ever. A low, keening wail, almost pained but so full of pleasure that the hairs on the back of my neck lift.
Everything is muffled, like she’s trying to stifle the sounds, but she can’t. I’m so attuned to her right now I hear every one of them. I bite my lip and taste blood. Ivy coming.
My chest heaves. Heat licks over my balls, down between my thighs. My ass clenches on the next thrust. “Oh shit. Honey, I’m gonna—”
The orgasm hits at full velocity. I arch up, my hips leaving the bed, my body locked in pleasure. A strangled, broken shout leaves my lips as come lands in hot strips across my abs and chest. My vision goes dark, my hand jerking every last drop of lust and need from my abused cock. Then I fall limp upon the bed.
Jesus.
For a moment I lie there, shaking and damp, fucking weak as a kitten. Licking my dry lips, I try to get my bearings, the room rocking drunkenly around me. And then I remember. Oh, shit. Ivy. I came harder than I ever have in my life on the phone with Ivy.
Panic punches into my chest, and I lurch up, scrambling for the phone lost amidst the rumpled covers. My ears burn hot, as my heart races. What to say? What will she say?
Hands shaking, I yank free the headphones and lift the phone to my ear. “Iv—” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “Ivy? You... Are you—”
My mouth snaps shut. Because she’s not there. The line is dead.