14. Chapter 14
Harlow
I’m pretty sure I just want to be kissing Grayson all the time.
Despite telling me we could add more to our marriage, we haven’t taken it there.
I thought I’d be more impatient. Well, alright, I am impatient, but there’s something really special about the soft, slow kisses that Grayson seems to be into.
I can’t think of anyone I’ve been with who has been like that with me. My normal operating speed is fast, fast, fast. Gray has always slowed me down. Not like he’s trying to control me or change me, but just in my soul. He slows my soul down.
Wild that I never even considered how amazing just lying together in bed and exchanging gentle kisses could be.
He kisses me like we have the rest of eternity to do it. Like he’s trying to memorize me and keep me inside him forever. Like he’s trying to make me forget everything in the world except for him. Never knew how much I’d appreciate that.
When I saw us kissing in that video, I thought for sure that anything between us physically would be burning want, and, I mean, yeah, it kinda is. But it’s mostly just… calm. Like he calms my brain, clearing it out until all that’s left is him.
I expected lust, and I got it in spades. What I didn’t expect was the slow unraveling, stomach flutters, and heart palpitations. I’m still deciding whether the last one is a good thing or not. Might need to get checked out at the doctor when I get home.
We only have three days left in Vegas, and I’m already dreading going home. Back to the real world, and work. Especially because work means I might see Josh. He’s still defending me on socials, which makes no sense to me. Maybe he just feels guilty.
I’d probably feel guilty too if I had left him at the altar. But even without the whole married to Gray thing… Once I got past my initial embarrassment at standing there like a fucking idiot, part of me was so fucking relieved and grateful, and I feel like that’s very telling.
The bathroom door creaks open, and I glance over to find a freshly showered Grayson.
His towel is tied around his waist, his still-wet hair dripping onto his chest. “What do you want to do today?” he asks, running his fingers through his sopping hair, sending more droplets down his chest and toned stomach.
Is licking the water off his body an option?
He laughs. “Not today.”
“Huh?”
“Licking the water off my body? Not an option today.”
I dart my eyes to his face. “Fuck. I said that out loud?”
He walks across the room, then sits down on the bed beside me. “You sure did.” He stares at me, his big brown eyes dancing. “I was thinking we could go out tonight?”
“Out?” I echo.
“Yeah, maybe we can find something…” He pauses, then exhales slowly. “Something couple-y to do together.”
“Couple-y?”
“Yes, parrot.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Parrot?”
Grayson laughs. “Yes, you’re parroting everything I say.” I don’t quite know why, but the idea of going out to do something couple-y sounds… very married of us. “Do you want to do that?”
I find myself nodding. “Yeah, what are we gonna do?”
“I was doing some searching last night in bed, and there’s a nightclub right off The Strip. I was thinking we could get out and dance and drink some.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You think drinking again is a good idea?”
“I mean…” Gray shrugs, his eyes sparkling. “It’s not like we can get more married or anything, so yeah.”
Well, he’s got a point there. “Alright.”
“Did you bring anything you can wear out?”
I frown. “No, I don’t think so.”
Gray stands, and his towel slips down his hips, hanging on by a thread. Dear God, if you let it fall, I’ll never ask for anything again. He reaches down to clutch it in his fist. Dammit.
“Let’s get dressed and go shopping, then.”
Shopping with Gray is always fun. “Alright.”
Studying my reflection, I cock my head. The black jeans I have on are skin-tight, barely even giving me room to breathe, but they make my ass look fire, and the cropped mesh shirt shows off my nipples.
“What do you think?” I ask, stepping out of the bathroom.
I don’t typically dress this way. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. Or even that I don’t like it, but I work at a hospital. I don’t go out often. What reason do I have for dressing like this?
Gray’s eyes snap up, then lock on me. “Um, yes.”
I glance down at myself. “You think?”
“Yeah, you look great.” I don’t want to look great. I want to look hot enough that my husband decides to let us have sex. “Hot, actually.”
I dart my gaze back to his, my stomach flipping. “Yeah?”
Nodding, he swallows hard. “Yeah, definitely. Do you like it?”
Smoothing my hands over the shirt, I nod. “I think so. Don’t usually dress like this.”
Gray stands, walking closer to me. When he’s close enough to touch, he grabs my hand, then spins me around. “And what a shame that is.”
My cheeks burn, and I’m not even sure why. I wonder if Gray gets some kind of kick out of making me blush.
You have the most adorable freckles, and when you blush or your cheeks are flushed, they stand out even more.
Maybe he does.
The thought alone makes my face burn hotter. When Gray notices, he smiles. “Why are you blushing?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. You’re making me all squirmy inside.”
He raises an eyebrow. “All squirmy?”
A huge smile spreads across his face, then he drops my hand to wrap an arm around my waist and pull me into him. I gasp when he leans down, dropping his mouth to mine. The kiss is quick, but it’s everything, and when he breaks away, I feel almost dizzy.
“Are you ready, then?” Gray asks, putting space between us.
I run a hand through my hair. Can’t believe I came here without anything to tame it. It’s wild and unmanageable.
“It looks good too.”
“What?” I ask, glancing at Gray.
He nods toward me. “Your hair. It looks good.”
I can’t help but laugh. “It looks like a mess.”
For a second, he just stares at me, and then he’s back in my space, his hands fisted in my hair and his mouth on mine. I can’t even keep up at first, my body needing a second to catch up, but when Gray rasps out a quiet, “Kiss me back, Harlow,” my mouth gets with the program.
Wrapping my arms around him, I pull him closer, dragging my hard cock against his thigh. He moans into my mouth, tugging hard on my hair, and my stomach somersaults. Yeah. I need more of that. Immediately.
“Can’t do this,” he mumbles, but before I have a chance to ask what he means, he’s kissing me harder, nipping at and then sucking on my bottom lip. Pretty sure all my thoughts just disappear.
My husband is a real good fucking kisser.
Fuck.
I want to beg him to fuck me. Want to beg him to toss me onto the bed and use me. Make me come. Fuck, I want it so goddamn bad.
Before I can ask for it, he breaks away from me with a gasping inhale. My chest is heaving, and so is his, and we stare at each other for a beat.
“Your hair,” he says.
I blink at him. “My hair?”
“Yes,” he rasps. “That’s what your hair makes me want to do.”
Stepping closer, I place a hand over his swollen cock. It pulses against my palm, and Gray thrusts into it. “Just that? It doesn’t make you want to do more?”
Grayson squeezes his eyes closed. “Not yet.”
I’m not sure what’s holding him back. He clearly wants me. He’s still rocking his cock into my palm, the heat of it even through his pants searing into my skin. His cheeks are flushed, and when he opens his eyes, they’re half-lidded and hazy with lust.
He’s not gonna get any virtue points for waiting to fuck me, but it’s bad enough he’s stuck married to me. I’m not gonna push him with this. At least not on purpose.
“Alright.” I drop my hand and step back. “I’m ready if you are.”
A pained look crosses his face as he adjusts himself. I’m sure it made him more comfortable, but all it does to the bulge is make it more pronounced. And if my mouth waters at the sight, that’s my own business.
“Can I blow you?”
The words come flying out of my mouth without input from my brain. Well, so much for it being my own business.
Gray groans. “I’m gonna hate myself for this, but not right now.”
I resist the urge to pout. He’s always telling me no. I’m not used to him telling me no at all. But, hey, this is a marathon, not a sprint, I guess. Only problem is that fast is my default setting. I can slow down for Gray, though. I can and I will.
With a deep breath to calm myself some, I reach out and tangle my fingers with his, tilting my head back to offer him a smile. “Alright, I’m ready. Are you?”
He shakes his head with a laugh. “Why am I already regretting this?”
Twenty minutes later, our driver is pulling up to a nondescript nightclub. The music is pounding, the bass thumping through my chest even from outside. I’m almost bouncing on my toes in excitement.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been out like this.
When Josh and I first met, I was trying to find my place at the hospital, and he was settling into his intern year.
We almost instantly fell into an easy rhythm.
We didn’t go out unless it was to dinner.
We didn’t have fun with each other. Not like Gray and I do.
Maybe our relationship was doomed from the start.
Gray tips the driver, then grabs my hand and leads me to the door. After being carded, the bouncer lets us in, and Gray presses a kiss to my temple. It takes me by surprise a little. “I’m gonna grab drinks. Meet you on the dance floor?”
I nod, then drop his hand so I can push my way into the throng of people.
There is a group of women dancing near the edge, and I scoot past them without a word, ignoring everyone as I work my way to the center. Center of the dance floor. Center of attention. It’s all the same to me.
I can feel the appreciative eyes on me as I slip past a group of men who look about my age, but I ignore it. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but when I say center of attention, I mean I only want to be at the center of Gray’s attention, which is a strange revelation for me.
I’m still thinking about that, frozen in place with the bass thumping in my ears, when Gray walks up to me and hands me a drink. I tip it back, downing half of it in one swallow.
He raises his eyebrows, then leans close enough that his breath gusts over my ear when he damn near shouts, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I yell back.
This is supposed to be fun. I’m gonna have fun, dammit.
Holding my drink carefully with one hand, I reach out, gripping Gray’s shirt so I can pull him closer to me.
We’ve done this before, of course. Sure, it’s been years.
And I wasn’t married to him. And I didn’t want him to take me apart and put me back together.
And I didn’t know what his mouth tasted like or what his cock felt like under his jeans against my palm, but it’s cool. It’s fine.
I roll my hips, closing my eyes as I let the music take me.
Gray grips my hip, spinning me around so my ass is to him. I press it against him, bending at the waist and swaying my hips to the beat of the music.
His fingers tighten against me, and a sheen of sweat breaks out over my skin.
Straightening back up, I take another swig of my drink, then another before swallowing the rest of it.
Turning around, I press my chest against Gray and take his also empty cup from him.
His large hands tug me closer, his hips moving in time with mine. I’ve never given much thought to how Gray fucks before. Never seemed like my business. Now it feels like my business.
My cock swells as I think about his hands on my hips for another reason. His grip pulling me back onto his cock and not just pulling me into him as we dance and grind to the music.
He spins me around again, easily manhandling me. His hand slides up the front of my jeans, his palm catching on the head of my cock and making me gasp before he runs the flat of it up my bare stomach and under my shirt.
His thumb brushes my nipple, and my legs go a little noodly.
Is he doing this on purpose? I can’t remember him touching me like this before. Not during any of our other club nights. Never. Have I always wanted him to touch me like this?
He tweaks my nipple, and I moan, the sound lost to the pounding music.
He’s hard too, I think, his cock pressed against my lower back.
It’s hot in here, and the temperature keeps rising the more he touches me. It’s overwhelming and so fucking good.
I drop my head against his shoulder, swaying my hips in time with his, and he pinches my other nipple. My cock throbs, spilling pre-cum. I can feel it against the head of my cock where it’s wetting my briefs.
It’s too much and not enough. I know I can be greedy, but I want more. More, more, more.