12. Chapter 12
Harlow
I blink at Grayson, my eyes burning. I’m not someone who frequently has regrets. I’ve always sort of just jumped into things with both feet. Does that always work out for me? Hell no. Do I continue to do it anyway? Yeah.
But right now, with Gray talking about parameters and time limits and boundaries and how long we’re going to be married, I can’t help but feel like I fucked up. I fucked up in a real big way.
I’ve never felt a kiss that deeply in my life, and I don’t know if it’s because I know and trust Grayson so much or if it’s something else. All I know is that one single kiss—or at least the one single kiss that I can remember—seems to have rewritten my entire brain chemistry.
And now, even though I know I shouldn’t be, I’m hurt that Grayson doesn’t seem to feel the same way.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” I say instead of responding to any of the things he said.
I’m sure he’s right and that we’ll have to talk about all of them, but right now, I really don’t want to.
I don’t want to think about what this all means.
I don’t want to think about a… fucking time limit on our marriage.
Maybe that’s selfish.
Shaking his head, Grayson sighs. “It’s okay. We just need to talk about what we’re going to do.”
I nod. I don’t want to. But I’m also not gonna go against what Grayson wants. “Okay.”
“Like I said, we need ground rules. We need a time limit—”
“A time limit?” I ask, cutting him off. “What does that mean?”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “I mean,” he says, glancing away.
“That we need to put a time limit on it. At that time, we’ll announce our divorce.
” My heart slams against my ribs. “A few months? A year? I don’t know.
But we need to decide, and then when the time comes, we can just tell people that it didn’t work out and we’re better off as friends. ”
“Fine,” I bite out. “What time frame do you want?”
Grayson’s eyes find mine. He looks just as lost as I feel, and something about that makes me feel better. “I don’t know.”
“Three months, then,” I say.
“Three months? That’s not a lot of time.”
I shrug, my heart hammering. “It’s plenty of time to fall out of love and move on and decide we’re better off as friends.”
“Okay.” Gray swallows hard again. “Three months then.”
“I have conditions,” I blurt out.
Gray’s eyebrows shoot up. “What kind of conditions?”
Fuck, I can’t believe I’m going to ask for this. It’s not like I have any bargaining power. He’s only doing this to help me. I know that. “I want this to be a real marriage.”
Grayson barks out a laugh. “I think the marriage license with our names on it is pretty real, Harlow.”
I shake my head. “Not what I mean. If I only get three months, I want a real marriage. Not just in front of people.” My throat convulses when Grayson frowns. “I want to kiss you and sleep in your bed. If we’re going to pretend, I want it all.”
If he says no, I’ll give up. I’d never want to make Grayson do something he isn’t comfortable with. But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t at least try.
“Let me ask you this,” I say when he doesn’t respond. “Did you like kissing me? Would you want to do it again?”
He searches my eyes for a second, then nods. “Yeah.”
“Would you be okay with adding kissing to your marriage rules?”
“Just kissing?” Gray asks, surprising me.
“What do you mean?”
If my dick gets hard right now in the middle of this very serious conversation while I’m trying to negotiate for us to get more kisses, I’m going to be so fucking mad.
“Just kissing,” he repeats. “You don’t want more than just kissing?”
Fuck. “Is more than kissing an option?” I rasp out. My dick pulses. I swear to God.
He smirks, but his eyes give him away. He’s not nearly as confident about this turn of events as he wants to act like he is. “I figure since you’re making demands. You don’t want to request daily blowjobs or weekly frotting?”
And there goes my dick again.
“I mean,” he continues without waiting for me to answer, “you used to sleep in my bed all the time before Josh, so nothing really changes there if all you want is kissing.”
“I want everything,” I hear myself saying, and for a split second, pure agony flashes in Grayson’s eyes. It gives me pause, and I study his face.
“Everything?” he echoes.
“Are you just going to repeat everything I say, or are you going to tell me whether you’re in or not?”
“Aren’t you worried it’s going to be awkward?” he asks instead of answering me.
I guess there’s really only one way to find out. Steeling myself, I scramble into his lap, straddling his waist. Willing my dick to behave for at least a damn second, I press closer until my chest is flush against his.
His hands grip my hips like it’s instinct. Like he’s been doing it all his life. And I guess in some ways, he has. But not like this. Not like this at all.
“Do you want to kiss me again, Gray?”
His eyes fall closed. “You don’t know how to take anything slow, do you?”
I frown. Why does that sound like an insult? “I guess not. Is that bad?”
He sighs, then shakes his head. “No. It’s just, you really went from almost married to left at the altar to fucking married to wanting to kiss me. In about three days. It’s just a lot to keep up with.”
I guess he’s not wrong, but I’ve never really shied away from going after what I want.
I can’t imagine doing it now. But this is different.
It’s not just about me and my wants. And even though we’ve always been close, Gray’s never expressed any interest in me, so I guess it makes sense that he wouldn’t want to either.
“Okay. We don’t have to,” I say, carefully working to shift out of his lap. “I’d never want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
His hands tighten on my hips, and his eyes fly open. “Where are you going?” I nearly laugh. “God, I can’t believe I’m even going to say this out loud, but I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time.”
My heart thumps. “What?”
“And I was really fucking frustrated that I finally got to, and I didn’t even remember it.” My blood is whooshing in my ears, and I can barely even hear myself think. “And I really do want to kiss you now. Right now, actually, but I’m also terrified of what that might mean.”
What it might mean to want to kiss me?
Gray brushes his thumb along my hip bone, and I shiver, my blood rushing south. Now is not the fucking time. Jesus.
Has this always been here? Did I just need to see it to feel it? Have I always wanted to kiss Gray?
I mean… I’ve always wanted to be close to him. And even when we were kids, I’d seek him out for cuddles and comfort. He’s always been my favorite person in the world, and no amount of time with him seemed to be enough.
Am I just doing this because I’m more hurt over Josh than I realized?
The thought alone makes my stomach revolt. There’s no way that’s what this is. I’d never use Gray like that.
But I do understand what he’s saying.
“You’re being awfully quiet,” Gray says softly, and when I snap my eyes to his, he’s staring at me in concern. “A quiet Harlow isn’t always a good thing.”
I try to smile. “I’m okay.”
Without thinking—because it’s getting me nowhere but spun in circles—I lean closer, offering him my mouth.
There’s a second where time seems to stop entirely, and then he’s wrapping his arms tightly around my lower back, pulling me into him and dropping his lips to mine in one smooth motion.
It’s so fucking intense. It’s not even a wild kiss. There’s no tongue. There’s no nipping teeth. There’s only Gray’s mouth moving softly against mine, his lips slightly parted and his arms wrapped tightly around me.
Even so, it feels like the ground is opening up under me. Like I’m dropping from the top of a roller coaster, my stomach swooping at the feeling of no gravity. It’s earth-shattering and life-changing.
Gray makes a small, breathless sound against my mouth, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders.
He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and a loud whimper echoes in my throat. I’ve definitely never had a kiss quite like this.
Grayson breaks away, and I almost pout about it, but then he’s pressing kisses along my jaw, and I drop my head back to give him better access. One of his arms leaves my back, cupping my head and supporting it as he drags his lips down my throat.
He hasn’t shaved since we got to Vegas, and his rough stubble scrapes against my skin, pulling a moan out of me.
His hips punch up at the sound, and he grinds his cock against my ass, which just makes me moan again, this one sounding like the lust-drunk moan I made in that video of our first kiss.
I feel like I might want to do this forever. Three months doesn’t seem like it’ll be enough. Surely we can keep kissing after we’re divorced, right?
“Jesus, Harlow,” Grayson murmurs, his breath blowing out over my overheated skin.
Then he’s dropping his hand from the back of my hair and loosening his grip around my waist.
I sit back, making eye contact with him. My cock is aching, and I can feel his pressing against my ass cheek. You wouldn’t think it would be this fucking excited after jerking off in the bathroom, but hey, it is what it is, I guess.
“So,” I say, swallowing hard at the heat in Grayson’s eyes. “Real marriage?”
“You never answered my question,” he says, dipping his head and nosing along my throat.
And I’m not going to if he keeps doing that. I don’t even know what question. Fuck, I’m pretty sure I don’t even know words. “Huh?”
“More than kissing?”
That still doesn’t make sense. “Do what now?”
Grayson presses a kiss to the side of my throat, then pulls back. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
Well, I mean, duh. He’s never had his mouth on my throat either. Fuck, I’m still so damn distracted. “Okay. Wait, what? What was your question?” Grayson watches me for a second, then bursts into laughter. Which, pretty fucking rude, really. “Why are you laughing at me?”
“You’re just adorable.” My face heats. I’m not sure Gray’s ever called me adorable before—or that anyone has, really, for that matter.
“And now you’re blushing. Jesus.” He squeezes his eyes closed for a second, and when he opens them, he smiles.
“Okay, when you stormed in all demanding and laying out your plans for our sham marriage, you said you wanted it to be a real marriage.” I nod along because, yeah.
“And I asked if you wanted more than kissing.”
“I wouldn’t say I stormed in. I was just sitting on the bed, and you—”
“Harlow.”
Ugh. Okay. Fine, fine. “Yeah. I already told you I want everything. And then you asked if it would be awkward, and then I climbed in your lap to prove it wouldn’t be, and then I got distracted because you kiss like a fucking God, and what do you mean I could have known that at sixteen instead of kissing Aaron Beller instead? ”
Gray turns his nose up. “Well, I’m sure I didn’t kiss all that great at sixteen.”
Jealousy burns through my veins at the thought of Gray—my husband—kissing anyone but me. And yeah, okay, we just got married, and I don’t really have any claim to him, but like… damn. “I do want more than kissing, but only if you do.”
And if I cross my fingers for good luck, does that make me seem childish? Don’t care. I hook my middle finger around my index and nearly hold my breath while I wait for him to stop searching my face and answer.
He blows out a breath. “Yes, I’d be okay with more.”
“Ew.” His eyes widen. “No, not ew. I just mean, yeah, kinda ew. I don’t want to have sex if it’s something you’re just… okay with. I want it to be something you want.”
Throat bobbing with a heavy swallow, he stares into my eyes, and when he speaks, his voice is more raspy and raw than I’ve ever heard it. “Oh, I want that very much.”
My stomach flips, nervous excitement skittering through my veins. “Okay.”
I lean forward to kiss him, and he pulls back, so I pause. “What?”
“Not right now.”
But… “Okay. Is something wrong?”
He shakes his head. “I’d just like for more to happen… spontaneously. And not, you know, thirty seconds after we decide we’re adding sex to our marriage.”
I can’t help but laugh. “That might be the funniest thing you’ve ever said. Okay, that’s fine.” Though I hope he’s fine with spontaneous happening sooner rather than later. “Husbands with benefits.”
“What?” he asks, chuckling.
“It’s like friends with benefits. Only we have the bonus of being married.”
Grayson’s laugh warms me from the inside out. “What am I gonna do with you? Do you wanna get ready and go out? We can get some dinner, walk around, and people watch?”
I can’t think of a better way to spend the night. Okay, well, yeah, I can. But I can be patient. Probably. “Sounds perfect.”