Chapter Fifteen
Juliet
I peel back the cupcake wrapper, taking a slow, indulgent bite.
Sweet. Rich. A perfect melt of sugar and cocoa on my tongue.
But my mind isn’t on chocolate.
It’s on him.
The way he sits back against the truck bed, thighs spread, one strong arm braced behind him, fingers curled loosely around his own half-eaten cupcake.
The way the silver of his dog tags catches in the soft glow of the moon.
Back where they belong.
Back on him.
I swallow, my gaze lingering, stomach tightening at the thought of him finding the rose. Did he know it was from me? Did he pick it up, roll the delicate petals between those rough fingers, and wonder?
Did he think of me?
I dig into the rest of my cupcake to keep from asking.
Instead, I lick a bit of frosting from my thumb and glance up at the sky. “Tell me about you.”
Orion looks at me, mid-chew, brow raised.
I smile. Soft. Sweet. Like I’m not burning up inside. “Who is Orion Grayson?”
A pause. A slow swallow.
Then?
I tilt my head, let my voice dip just a little lower, just enough to tease. “Aside from the breathtaking guard at my school with a taste for red velvet.”
His lips twitch.
Then, oh. Oh.
He blushes.
It’s barely there, just a flicker of warmth across his sharp cheekbones, but it’s real.
And fuck me, I love that.
This big, broad, dangerous man, so serious, so strong, so utterly built and I can make him blush.
I tuck that away. Treasure it. Because soon? Soon, he’ll be on his knees for me.
I swing my feet, keeping my focus on the stars, pretending I don’t want to slide my fingers through the chain of his tags, press my mouth to the hollow of his throat, taste the salt and heat of his skin.
He brought me here.
Here.
Not some shitty parking lot. Not the back alley behind a club.
No, Orion Grayson brought me to the stars.
That means something.
Even if he doesn’t realize it yet.
And God, does he know how hard I’m thinking about fucking him right now?
Because I am.
I really fucking am.
The truck bed is solid beneath me, but there’s no blanket back here. Would he care? Would he even think about it, or would he just take, pin me down, spread me open, press me into the steel until I’m shaking apart?
I breathe in, slow, steady. Keep it together. Play the long game, Juliet.
So I listen as he talks.
His time in the service. His older brother. His father.
Not a single mention of a mother.
Good.
Momma’s boys are a nightmare.
Mothers cling. They compete. They see women like me and know they’re going to lose their sons. And I do not have the patience for that.
I absorb every detail, every tiny thing.
Because this? This is gold.
This all goes in my notebook.
Later. When I get home. When I’m in my room, curled up in bed, drenched in the scent of his cologne from where I sprayed it on my pillow.
He asks me a few questions, but I redirect. Smile. Laugh. Tease.
He’s not ready to know me yet.
He needs to want to know me first.
“What else do you like to eat?” I ask, licking the last bit of chocolate from my fingertip.
He looks at me like the question is a trick. “You gonna cook for me?”
I smile, slow. “I will.” A pause. A tilt of my head. “If we get that far.”
His jaw ticks.
Oh, love.
We are already that far.
But I let him pretend.
I let him think there’s still some control left in his hands.
And then?
Then he leans in.
Just a little. Just enough for my breath to catch.
And for a second, just a second, he hesitates.
Like he’s giving me a chance to back away. Like he’s waiting for me to stop him.
As if I ever fucking would.
I don’t move.
I don’t breathe.
And that’s all he needs.
Because then his hand is sliding over my thigh, firm, deliberate.
Then his mouth is on mine.
And fuck me, he kisses like he’s been starving for this.
Like he’s already ruined.
His hands are rough but precise, gripping my waist, dragging me forward, hauling me straight into his lap.
And God, he’s hard.
The second I straddle him, I feel it.
Feel the thick, solid press of him against me, so fucking heavy it has me gasping into his mouth.
And Orion?
He growls.
Low. Deep. Possessive.
And just like that?
We’re grinding.
I rock against him, hands sliding up his chest, memorizing the ridges of muscle, the firm heat of his body beneath his shirt.
His fingers dig into my thighs, urging me on, his hips rolling up to meet mine in slow, punishing strokes that have me whimpering into his mouth.
I feel the way he grips my ass, the way he pulls me tighter against him, lets me feel everything.
And suddenly, clothes are a problem.
My hands dip lower, slipping beneath his shirt, nails dragging over taut, burning skin, feeling the way he shudders at my touch.
He needs this.
And fuck, so do I.
I bite his lip, hard, just to hear what kind of sound he makes.
He groans.
Then his grip tightens, and his mouth is on my throat, his tongue dragging over my pulse, teeth scraping, sucking, leaving something dark behind.
Marking me.
Oh. Oh, Orion.
You shouldn’t have done that.
Now?
Now I’ll never let you go.
Orion’s fingers press beneath the waistband of my leggings, rough and warm, teasing against the sensitive skin of my hip.
His other hand?
Firm around my throat.
Just enough pressure to make me shiver. To have my breath hitch as he claims me, dragging me into another kiss.
His mouth is hot. Demanding. His teeth scrape against my lower lip, his tongue stroking deep, like he’s already devouring me.
I grind against him, arching, pressing closer.
I don’t care that we’re outside.
I don’t care that the stars are watching.
Orion wants me. Needs me.
And I am so ready to give him everything.
His fingers slide lower.
A slow, dangerous descent.
Then, oh.
Oh, fuck.
His fingertips brush over the heat between my legs, sliding under my panties, finding out exactly how ready I am for him.
Orion groans.
Low. Dark. Like the sound reverberates inside him, shaking him from the core.
He presses his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged, his fingers testing, slipping through my slick heat, spreading me, teasing.
I whimper his name, biting his lip, rolling my hips against his touch.
God, I need more.
But…
“Wait.” I stiffen slightly, fingers tangling in his shirt.
Orion freezes instantly. Like he’s been doused in ice water. Like I just slapped him across the face. His body locks up beneath me, his hand still deep in my panties, his cock rock-hard against my thigh.
The look he gives me?
Fuck.
It’s wrecked. Panting. Needy. Completely fucking ruined.
“What?” His voice is hoarse, tight with restraint.
I swallow, still grinding against his fingers, still riding the edge of something I need him to finish.
“I need you to know one thing before…” My voice is breathless, teasing.
Because I know.
I know he’s too far gone to stop.
And that?
That’s exactly where I want him.
His jaw clenches. His hand twitches against me, like he’s trying to remember why the fuck he isn’t already inside me. “Before what?” he growls.
I drag my nails down his stomach, slipping my fingers lower, finding the button of his jeans.
Slowly I pop it open.
He sucks in a sharp breath.
The fabric pulls away, and oh.
Oh, fuck.
He’s thick.
Hard as stone.
I slide my hand inside, fingers curling around the heat of him, wrapping around his cock.
Orion groans, head dropping back slightly, eyes fluttering shut.
He’s so fucking hot like this.
Big. Strong. Unraveling because of me.
And then?
Then I stroke him.
And whisper, “I’m in love with someone.”
He stills.
Takes a sharp inhale.
Like I just knocked the fucking air out of his lungs.
His eyes snap open.
But I don’t stop.
I tighten my grip around him, drag my fist down, feeling how thick he is, how fucking perfect he is in my hand.
And God, he twitches.
Like he can’t decide if he wants to pull away or thrust into my palm.
Like he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with this information.
His breathing is uneven, his chest rising and falling like he just ran a mile.
Then he grits his teeth, voice rough, raw, wrecked, “Then what the fuck are you doing here?”
Oh.
Oh, love.
I knew he’d ask.
And I knew he wouldn’t stop me.
I nuzzle against him, my lips brushing the sharp edge of his jaw, still stroking him slow, steady, relentless. “He’s okay with this.”
Orion swallows, hard, his hips jerking slightly into my hand, like his body doesn’t even care what his brain is screaming.
“I just wanted you to know before,” I murmur, dragging my teeth over his throat, my free hand slipping up his chest, feeling the hammering of his heart beneath my palm.
Honesty matters to a man like Orion.
And I’d never hurt him.
Not like she did.
Not like that cheating, manipulative bitch who still clings to him, who still texts him like he owes her something.
I’m better than her.
I’m honest.
And I know him so much better than she ever did.
Orion exhales through his nose, long and slow, like he’s trying to think through the fog of lust and need.
Trying to convince himself that this should be a dealbreaker.
Except, his fingers are still inside me.
I’m still stroking his hand.
And I feel the way he’s pulsing against my palm, the way he’s leaking, his cock thick and desperate, twitching with every slow, torturous stroke of my hand.
I squeeze him just a little tighter, just enough to feel his breath stutter against my skin.
And that’s when I know he’s already mine.
I slip free of his hand, my whole body aching, clenching, starving for him.
I release his cock, sit up just enough to reach the waistband of my leggings.
His eyes snap to the movement, blazing, jaw clenched, breathing ragged.
His whole body tenses, like he’s holding himself back by sheer force of will.
I tilt my head, teasing, voice dripping with want. “Do you want me, Orion?”
I barely get the words out before…
Fuck.
His hands are on my hips, gripping hard, fingers digging into my skin as he yanks my leggings down.
He’s not careful.
He’s not soft.
He’s desperate.
The fabric drags down my thighs, over my knees, inside out from the force of it.
I gasp, clutching his shoulders, wiggling free as he rips them over my shoes, leaving me bare beneath him except for my tiny, useless panties.
Which don’t even make it another second.
Because Orion hooks his fingers in the waistband and tears them away like they offended him.
“Oh, my God.” I breathe it, fucking dizzy, soaked, already so gone for him.
But he’s not waiting.
His hands are back on me in an instant, dragging me right back into his lap, skin on skin, heat against heat, his jeans already pushed down, his cock so hard it’s kicking up against his stomach.
I moan as the thick, swollen head of him presses right against my slick entrance.
He’s leaking, throbbing, pulsing with every heartbeat.
I feel the shudder that runs through him, the sharp inhale, the way his fingers tighten like he’s about to lose himself completely.
He grits his teeth, eyes burning into mine, voice wrecked. “Juliet, if you don’t want.”
I slam my mouth to his, cutting off the ridiculous thought that I would ever, ever say no.
I kiss him hard, deep, claiming him the way he’s about to claim me.
Then, I pull back just enough to whisper against his lips. “I want you to ruin me.”
He snaps.
His fingers dig into my thighs, holding me still as he thrusts up, stretching me wide with one hard, deep stroke.
“Oh, fuck.” I can’t even finish the thought.
I’m so full.
I feel every inch of him, thick, pulsing heat, buried deep inside me, my body clenching down around him, sucking him in like I never want to let go.
Orion groans, head tipping back, his jaw locked tight like he’s barely holding on.
His arms flex, grip tightening, and then he moves.
Deep, thrusting strokes, pulling out just enough before pushing back in, slow at first, then faster, harder, his hips slamming into mine, the sound of our bodies echoing through the night.
My nails rake down his back, my head dropping as I arch into him, take him deeper, fuck him back just as hard.
His hands slide up my back, one tangling in my hair, tilting my head, his mouth slanting over mine, kissing me like he’s never going to stop.
I moan into his mouth, so close already, every drag and slide of him hitting perfect, deep, merciless.
I clutch at him, breath panting, eyes wild, whispering between kisses. “Don’t stop.”
“Never.”
I shudder, clenching around him, my thighs shaking, my whole body so tight, and then Orion growls, gripping my hips, slamming me down on him one last time as he comes hard, groaning my name into my open, gasping mouth.
I fall apart around him, white-hot pleasure snapping through me, my body milking him for everything he has.
We sit there, panting, dizzy, bodies still locked together, his arms tight around me.
And then I smile.
Because I have him now.
And I am never letting go.