15. Greer
15
Greer
T he room spins as early morning sunshine blinds me, my stomach pitches and rolls. Snuggling deeper under the covers, I scoot over to grab my cellphone off the bedside table. It’s nine a.m. and gloriously quiet, save for the drum line currently beating the inside of my skull. With more effort than necessary, I roll over, greeted by Duke’s big doe eyes staring back from where he’s snuggled under the covers.
“You’re not supposed to be up here, mister.” He scoots closer and lays his head on my shoulder. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.” I kiss his wet nose.
“I think so too.” Luke’s voice rumbles from my doorway.
“Go away,” I mumble, pulling my duvet cover over my head. The bed dips as he leans over me. Luke’s scent sneaks under the covers, and I readily welcome it.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like Don Julio and I might need to break up.”
His low chuckle makes my toes curl. “Are you gonna come out of your cave today?”
I lower the covers and peek out. “Do I have to?” Luke takes the duvet cover from my grasp and folds it down. I’m sure I look terrible, so I give him a goofy smile.
Even though I’d never taken shots before, my unexpected run-in with Brian’s old friends left me wanting to let loose. Loose being a relative term apparently as I went full send.
I’ve not spent much time anywhere except work, my house, therapy, and Ground Up this past year, so it shouldn’t have surprised me to see people I know at a place we all used to go to. I’d been completely wrapped up in Luke that I hadn’t seen Annie and the guys approaching. I wasn’t ashamed to be there with Luke, not by a long shot, but I hadn’t prepared myself for drunken, insensitive questions. Hence, my running away like my hair was on fire.
“How much did I embarrass myself last night?” I ask. Luke’s hand rests near my hip. The warmth coming from his body is incredibly hard to resist. He’s dressed in navy joggers and a gray T-shirt. Because, of course, he looks super handsome when I probably look a mess.
“ You didn’t embarrass yourself at all. In fact, I think everyone likes you more than they do me.”
“Yeah?”
“Might have been your dabble in ’90s rap.”
“My what now?”
“Oh, yes,” he chuckles, smoothing his hand across my stomach and over my hip. “You made sure to let everyone know it was ‘Friday night and you feel just fine.’ Pretty sure Vinnie might be in love with you now.”
“Did I at least do the song justice?” I’d be mortified if I butchered a classic.
“Oh yeah, sweetheart. Big Joe requested your presence again next month. Said something about karaoke night too.”
I groan, then make an escape to the bathroom. In the mirror, I take stock of the mess that is me while quickly brushing my teeth. Luke’s waiting patiently by the side of the bed as I skip into the room and throw myself back under the covers. He nudges me over, urging me to scoot over. Before I know it, he’s lying down beside me, his arm draped casually across my hip.
“Whatcha doing?” I ask. He’s so close, his bodywash swirls around us, something reminiscent of bergamot. I sniff his neck, trying to put my finger on the other note of fragrance. His stubble tickles as I run my nose along the skin of his neck.
“Greer.”
“Yeah?” I close my eyes.
“You’re making this really difficult.” His jaw clenches, the muscles flexing beneath me.
“Making what difficult?”
“Being a gentleman.”
I trail my finger along the edge of his jaw and up his cheek bone. His eyelashes flutter shut. He sighs, surrendering to my touch. I love how weathered his skin is from spending endless hours in the sun. I love the little wrinkles around his eyes. I touch each one before tracing around his eye and down the tip of his nose. I note how perfect his lips are, smoothing my fingers over each one. He kisses my fingers, my eyes locking with his molten amber stare.
“What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?” I whisper. He squeezes my hip even harder and pulls me into him. My head rests naturally in the dip between his pecs. A warm and refreshing silence settles around us. I love that about Luke; he doesn’t feel the need to fill each moment with unnecessary noise.
“I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.” His breaths rustle the hairs on top of my head.
“Mmmm,” I say, considering. I understand where he's coming from. It’s something I worry about too—not being ready. With Brian, we’d come together in such a natural way. Even though he’d been my first, being ready was never a worry. We were young and wildly in love. Our love life had been passionate, something that made me feel powerful and sexy, loved and protected. I haven’t felt like that since the morning of the accident.
It was early September, and we were headed out of town for a concert. We’d come together that morning in a slow, easy way. I can still recall his soft kisses, his hands on my body and in my hair, his whispered I love yous . It’s almost as if he knew it would be our last time together. By that night, he was gone.
I look at Luke. “What if . . .” I hesitate, and his hand pauses its path up and down my arm. “I won’t know I’m ready unless I try?”
“Is that what you want? To try?” His voice is low, threaded with a rich texture.
I run my fingers across his trim waist, his soft shirt sliding beneath my hand, and hug him tighter against me. Each of my curves and divots fit perfectly with his.
“Only with you.” My eyes flutter shut. The cadence of his heartbeat, warmth of his body, and rhythm of his breathing lull me back to sleep.
I’m extremely warm and cozy when I come to an hour or so later. Luke is completely wrapped around me, our legs intertwined like vines. I like it here, tucked into the safety of his embrace. He breathes steadily even as I run my fingertips over his chest and down his muscled stomach. His shirt has ridden up, revealing a patch of tan skin. I trail my fingers along the soft expanse, the sparse hairs tickling my fingertips.
Continuing to absorb the feel of his skin, memories from last night churn through my mind. When I lost Brian, I wasn’t sure when or if I was ever going to be ready to be with someone else. Alan’s remarks echo in the back of my mind.
I saw Luke’s worry on his face when I disappeared to the bathroom. I wasn’t ashamed to be there with him, but Alan’s words stung. How dare he pass judgment when he—they—don’t know me anymore. It didn’t take much for those three to exit my life after the funeral. Sutton let me rage about it in the bathroom, and it felt good. I know people will have their own opinions, but I refuse to let them define me. My life is my own, and no one will dictate how I live it.
“Greer?” I could get used to his sleep-heavy voice.
“I’m up.” I prop my hands on his chest and study his handsome face. He leans up and kisses my forehead. My heart pitter-patters at how easily he shows me affection.
“Can I take you somewhere today?” Pulling me against his body, his rough palm drags along the bare skin on my thigh, renewing my inner strength.
“Yes.”
“How long do you need?”
“Not long, and I’ll need to take Duke out.”
“Perfect. I’ll take care of Duke and make breakfast while you shower.” He winks, a playful smile on his lips. A grumble rolls out of me as he wiggles out from underneath me. “Get going, sweetheart. It’ll make you feel like a whole new person.” He smacks my ass and calls for Duke before heading out to the kitchen. My phone pings multiple times from the bedside table.
Sutton : I’m breaking up with Don Julio.
Me : Are you in my mind? I just said the same thing to Luke.
Sutton : Why’s he got to do us dirty like this?
Sutton : Grabbing breakfast with Hunter. You two want to join?
Me : Would love to, but Luke’s got plans for us.
Sutton : I’m sure he does.
I toss my phone down, then strip down and trudge to the shower, not bothering to close the door all the way.
I use the counter to hold me up, and several minutes pass as steam fills the room. Warm water pelts the skin on my back when I step in the shower, a heavenly feeling on the sore muscles of my body. I think my body is past its pop, lock, and dropping stage. I lather my hair, massaging my fingertips into my scalp. Duke’s claws clack on the tile as he saunters into the bathroom, curling up on the bath mat. I’m a little disappointed it’s not Luke. I’d left the door cracked on purpose, hoping maybe he might make a move. I want him to know I meant what I said—I'm ready to try, and the door is open whenever he’s ready to step through.
Bubbles cascade down my stomach and trace the contours of my muscled thighs, a sense of relief filling me.
“Greer?” Luke’s voice echoes outside the bathroom door.
“You can come in.” I close my eyes, saying a silent thank you that we’re on the same page.
The atmosphere thickens the moment Luke enters on bare feet. He leans against the sink, arms crossed over his chest; his intense gaze burns. He’s like a caged animal.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” The words hang in the steam-filled air.
With a shy smile, I turn, offering myself to his hungry gaze. Luke’s eyes move achingly slowly, leaving a sizzling trail in their wake. My hands trace the heat, up and over my hips, lingering on my breasts, where my nipples are already tight. Desire pools low in my belly as he approaches the shower, placing his hands on the glass.
“Do that again.” He growls. My hands obediently retrace the path. The air sparks with anticipation, and I’m on fire; his proximity alone is enough to ignite my senses.
“Is this okay with you?” he asks, his voice low. His eyes burn with an intensity I haven't experienced in so long.
A quick nod escapes me, but he smirks, demanding more. “I need to hear you say it, G.” His words send shivers through my trembling body.
“It’s more than okay.” I breathe out.
“Thank god,” he responds, his voice low, desperate. My thighs squeeze together, the heat of desire rising—its been so long since I've felt this way.
“Touch yourself,” Luke commands, straining through the fabric of his pants. The request feels wanton and dirty, and I love it. He makes me feel powerful, sexy.
Ever so slowly, my hands traverse my stomach. One teasingly squeezes my nipple as the other slips down to my pussy. With one finger, I trace my clit. My body jolts from the contact. I’m panting as I slide my finger between my lips and back to my clit. Luke’s eyes never look away. My entire body vibrates, surrendering to the desire pumping through my veins.
“You need this, don’t you?” His eyes lock onto mine.
“Yes.” My hand presses against the glass, mirroring his.
“Fuck, sweetheart, this is . . . You are incredible.”
“You too,” I gasp, my breathing erratic.
“Can I . . . ?” he gestures to the bulge in his joggers.
“Yes. Luke, it’s okay. We said we would try. Please,” I beg.
He pushes his pants over his hips with one hand.
“Oh my god,” I moan, my fingers picking up their pace. Luke is long and thick, the tip glistening. He wraps his fist around his length, tugging roughly from stem to tip. “You’re huge.”
He chuckles, silently continuing his rough movements up and down his shaft. I’m so wet my fingers slip easily inside me.
“That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself.”
Not one to be told twice, I dip my finger back inside me, sliding in and out, my palm rubbing against my clit. I need more pressure, more fullness, so I add another finger. I thrust them in and out, faster and harder each time. Fire licks up the base of my spine, quickly spreading like wildfire as I chase my orgasm.
“I-I-I n-need to . . .” I stutter, breathless, my eyes fixed on him as he continues to pleasure himself.
“Me too,” he says. “Let go. Let me see you fall apart.”
Together, we climb, each chasing that mountaintop before crashing down the other side. My orgasm barrels through my body, my stomach clenching with the force of its intensity.
“Fuck,” Luke moans as his orgasm overtakes him, ropes of come shooting onto the shower glass. With a few final pulls, he removes his hand from his cock, still thick and hard, and places it back on the glass. I mirror his actions, both of us leaning into the other, separated by glass.
“We’re doing things a bit out of order, aren’t we?” I tell him, a giant smile on my face. Luke’s face flushes a deeper red, beads of sweat glisten on his temples.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “Greer, that was . . . You are a goddess.”
“Would you like to—” I gesture to the shower, welcoming him to join me.
“I would like to so goddamn much, but I also think maybe we should slow down.”
“Always the gentleman.” I push off the glass and back under the spray of the shower. It’s lukewarm now, but the fire coursing through my body at my brazenness welcomes it. This is a new feeling, something Luke brings out of me. I bite my lip and give him a devilish grin.
“You little minx.” He laughs out loud, pulling up his pants. A sad whimper escapes me when he tucks himself away. He’s laughing and shaking his head as he grabs a towel to wipe away the remnants of his release. “Get dressed, sweetheart. Breakfast will be done soon, and then you’re mine for the day.”
“Promise?” I call after him when he steps into the hall.
“I am so fucked,” I hear him say to himself.
I think we both are.
Turns out, being his for the day includes doing very mundane and Saturday-like chores. I kind of hoped he’d take me fishing today, but Luke said he needed to get some things done for work. First, we stop by his station, where I wait in the car, my newest romance novel calling my name, while he runs in to grab some materials. Luke’s assisting with a junior firefighter program this week, so we spend a while at the high school setting up tables and various learning materials in the cafeteria. We chatter throughout the setup process, and I love hearing the passion for his profession in his voice.
He’s a first-generation firefighter, and a program similar to this made him see he could easily make a career out of something he loved—helping people. Afterward, we grab a quick bite at a local sandwich shop before heading to Ms. Carol’s house. She used to substitute at our school years ago and is one of our town’s most beloved citizens.
“What are we doing at Ms. Carol’s house?”
“Nothing much, just some odds and ends.” He taps on the steering wheel.
“Why do you seem embarrassed?” I poke him in the ribs.
“It’s no big deal. I’m used to Hunter giving me shit about doing this stuff all the time.”
“Do you make it a habit helping the women of this town with odds and ends ?” I can’t help the giggle that escapes.
“Well,”—he laughs—“when you put it like that, it sounds sexual. Really, I just help out. If anyone needs something done, they typically call me.”
“And Hunter doesn’t like that?”
“Not exactly. He more or less thinks I’m sacrificing my time and energy in the service of others and forgetting about my time and energy.”
Our conversation continues as he navigates the busy Saturday traffic. Fourth of July preparation is in full swing, so the streets are busy with volunteers adorning the town with Americana decor, excited for the upcoming festivities.
My thoughts stray as I faintly hear the ticking clock of time in the back of my heart, reminding me of another big date approaching—the anniversary of the accident.
Before summer began, I kept track of every single day I had to live without Brian—a silent form of torture I knew would one day add up to 365. But somewhere along the way this summer, I stopped counting. Relief and guilt surge through me. Relief that each day no longer feels like being dragged under by the undertow; guilt that maybe I’m starting to forget about Brian.
Luke smooths his hand over my thigh. Somehow, he must inherently know I need him to pull me back to the present. I give him a reassuring smile.
“And do you?” I continue. “Sacrifice your time for others?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But . . .”
He sighs. “I hate to disappoint anyone by saying no.” He rubs the back of his neck, eyes frozen on the stoplight ahead.
“Disappoint people? Why would you think that?”
He rolls down his window, resting his arm casually on the windowsill. A welcoming breeze rustles my hair.
“I guess it’s the people pleaser in me.”
I reach across and caress his shoulder. “People will still like you even if you can’t always be their helpful neighborhood fireman.”
“You might be right. At least, in regard to you.” I love the boyish smile he gives me as he presses the accelerator.
“I definitely like you for you and not for what you can do for me. Although, I really liked what you did for me earlier.”
My stomach whooshes thinking back on our morning. First, sleeping in bed together, if only for an hour. It’s been too long since I’d felt the warmth of someone beside me, months spent lost in the endlessness of the middle of the bed.
Then, the shower. God.
The images of Luke pleasuring himself, taking command of my body without even touching it, have been flashing through my mind at regular intervals. If I still cared what guilt was telling me, I’d be wallowing in shame and embarrassment, knowing we’ve mutually masturbated together before sharing a kiss. But to me, kissing is intense and incredibly intimate. Brian was my last kiss, and I know Luke’s will be different. I’m more than okay with our order of things.
Luke eases up to Ms. Carol’s house, puts the truck in park and turns to face me fully. “I wasn’t sure if you meant it, you know?” he says. “But then I saw you left the bathroom door open, and I took that as a sign to try . Are you alright with what we did?” He captures my hands in his, dwarfing them.
“Most definitely.” And I am. It felt thrilling and sexy and wonderful. There was no wave of shame afterward, only a subtle thrum of energy wondering what would be next. I know he would have stopped if I asked him; he’s an incredibly patient man, almost painfully so.
“Because if it was too fast or not something you liked—”
“Luke, I know this is all new—for both of us. You, being with someone who’s widowed and me, being with another man who isn't Brian for the first time. At first, I didn’t think I could ever feel anything for anyone again. And yes, I still feel that soul-deep loss, those pangs of guilt that linger. I don’t think they’ll ever go away, to be honest. But I'd be lying to myself if I said I don’t feel something for you—even if I'm not sure what that something is quite yet.”
“I feel something for you too, G.”
“I know you do, and that makes me feel so many things.” I stare out the windshield.
“I sense a but.”
I smile. “But I don’t need you to treat me like something fragile. If I’m ever going to know you completely, and vice versa, we have to promise to be ourselves. We said we were going to try this, right? Take it one day at a time?”
“Greer, I don’t want to hurt you or push into anything you’re not ready for.”
“Luke, there have been a lot of things this last year I wasn’t ready for. A lot of firsts I had to go through, even if I raged against them. I promise, with these firsts, I’ll tell you if I’m not ready. But how will I know unless I— we —try? I need you to stop holding back and making decisions for me about what you think I am or am not ready for.”
“I suppose my sister was right,” he deadpans.
I snort. “You get the communication talk as well?”
“Something like that.” He laughs and turns off the engine. As he rounds the truck to open my door, his steps are lighter, like the weight of worry he inflicts on himself has been lifted.
“Ready to do this?” There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he links our hands.
“Absolutely.”
“Because the sooner we get this done, the sooner I get you back in my arms.”