21. Grady
21
GRADY
Stop sabotaging every chance at happiness.
Well, I fucked that up immediately. I wanted to say yes when Elliot asked me if it was a date. I wanted to tell him that this is real for me, that it goes beyond experimenting and tentative friendship—that I want it all.
But the words wouldn’t come. It turns out that simply knowing you’re self-sabotaging doesn’t mean you suddenly stop self-sabotaging.
Elliot moves behind me, his focus locked on the tablet in his hand so he doesn’t see me watching him in the mirrors. He looks so happy today, a slight smile permanently tugging at his lips and bright laughter filling the room around us. It’s mesmerizing, and I intentionally mess up another exercise so he’ll come over to correct me.
“I know you’re doing that on purpose,” he mumbles, biting back a smile as he adjusts my grip for the third time.
“Doing what on purpose?” I inject as much innocence into my voice as I can manage, turning wide eyes on him as I chew my lower lip. “I’m just trying to do what you said.”
Elliot snorts, running his hand along the inside of my forearm before wrapping his fingers around my wrist. “There are ways to get me to touch you that don’t involve risking further injury to your shoulder.”
He’s so close I can count the individual eyelashes shadowing his gaze as he looks down at my hand. “Is that a fact?”
“Mmhm,” Elliot hums, ghosting his hand along my skin. His eyes follow the path of his fingers as they slide up my arm, eventually breaking away to meet my gaze. “Is that what you want, Grady? You want me to touch you?”
“Yes.”
Elliot bends forward until his lips are brushing my ear, his hands still drawing lazy paths along my skin. With his body blocking out the rest of the room and his scent surrounding me, it almost feels like we’re the only two people in the world. “Then you better finish your exercises while Steal is still in Miller’s room.”
The reminder that my hotel room sits empty three floors above us nearly makes me groan aloud. Elliot insisted on doing PT first, which was understandable, considering I had no intention of letting him out of the room once we were in it.
I adjust my grip and move through the remaining exercises on the list in record time. It seems like fewer than usual, but I don’t press Elliot on it. We’re both moving quickly as we pack up the equipment, and Elliot manages to beat me to the gym door.
“After you.”
“Oh, no,” I lean over him, touching the door directly above his head. “After you, Princess.”
Elliot’s laughter bounces off the walls, wrapping me in a cacophony of him . It feels too precious, too pure for someone like me, but I remind myself that I deserve good things. And when the reminder inevitably fails, and I start to spiral into panic that I’m letting him get too close, I shut myself up by pinning Elliot to the elevator wall with a demanding kiss.
“Fuck, Grady,” he gasps, pulling back far enough to take a breath. “The cameras.”
“I don’t care,” I growl, sliding a hand between us to palm his cock through the rough denim of his jeans. “I’ll fuck my whore wherever I damn well please, won’t I?”
“Shit, yeah, yes, but,” Elliot whines when my fingers work loose the button on his jeans. “Nell is going to murder us both.”
“I’ll protect you, Princess.” I mean it, too. Deep in my bones, I know that Elliot is mine to protect now. He’s mine, and I’m his, whether my mind can wrap itself around that concept or not. It’s written in how my heart pounds, the way my breath grows ragged and my palms itch to reach for him. It presses into my flesh when Elliot bites my lower lip, trapping his moan against my mouth as my hand slides against his cock.
“ Shit ,” Elliot gasps, shoving at me with a whimper. I follow his gaze over my shoulder, surprise forcing my hand out of Elliot’s pants. A woman is standing in the open doorway of the elevator, her wide eyes locked on the two of us.
“What floor?” I ask in as casual a tone as I can manage, with Elliot pressing his face against my chest to muffle his laughter. The woman steps onto the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby, and I realize this is our floor. “So sorry,” I mumble, dragging Elliot around to push him through the open elevator doors. “Have a good night.”
She mumbles something about “kids in love,” but I don’t quite hear all of it. A quick glance at Elliot tells me he didn’t hear anything over his dismal attempts to control his giggles. “You’re not sneaky.”
“No, I am not,” he agrees through amused laughter. His eyes are still dancing with mirth when we reach my room, and I want nothing more than to taste the laughter on his lips.
The door opens easily, and I all but shove Elliot into the room. I have him pressed against the wall before the door shuts behind us. He melts against me, his hands digging into my hair as his hips grind into mine. “Please.”
“Please, what, C?—”
Someone clears their throat, and I spin around so fast I nearly elbow Elliot in the stomach. Panic replaces any trace of arousal in my body as I put myself between Elliot and whatever threat is in the room.
“Hey, guys,” Steal chirps from where he’s all but hanging off the end of his bed looking down the corridor to the door. Hoax is sitting beside him, looking very much like he’s trying not to burst out laughing.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Uh, this is my room,” Steal raises a pointed brow in my direction. “What are you doing trying to fuck in here without talking to me first?”
“You knew I was hanging out with Elliot.”
“Oh, forgive me for not assuming physical therapy would turn you on.”
“Why, uh,” Elliot murmurs, leaning far enough around me to see the two men watching us from across the room. “Why aren’t you surprised it’s me?”
Steal gives Elliot a look that tells me I will hate whatever he’s about to say. “Grady told me.” A relieved breath escapes my lungs half a second before Steal adds, “He got all whiny about accidentally fucking things up between you.”
“Dude!” I snap, heat creeping up my neck at his words.
Elliot turns to look up at me with a furrowed brow. “When did you think you fucked something up?”
“Literally every time you hang out,” Steal continues from his side of the room, and I find myself hoping he’ll fall face-first off the bed. “It’s cute but also annoying, and the worst part is—hang on,” Steal spins toward Hoax, sitting quietly at his side. “Why aren’t you surprised?”
“Elliot told Scott.”
“And?”
“And Scott is my boyfriend. Why is everyone always forgetting that?”
Steal waves the question away before Hoax is even done asking it. “I didn’t forget. I just didn’t realize you guys shared other people’s secrets with each other.”
“That’s, like, the first rule of relationships, dude.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Hoax gives Steal an incredulous look. “I’m officially concerned about every relationship you’ve ever had.”
Steal leans away from Hoax, a slightly panicked look in his eyes. “Can we go back to picking apart Elliot and Grady now?”
“Of course,” Hoax agrees, turning a too-bright smile toward us. “I think we should start with what Grady was about to call Elliot.”
I feel Elliot flinch at my side, and I reach for him. He slides beneath my arm without resistance, and I press a kiss against his temple on instinct. “That’s none of your business, Hoaxley.”
“ Ohmygod ,” Steal gasps, pure joy lighting up his face. “Do you guys already have cutesy nicknames for each other?”
“No.”
“You totally do,” he insists, unfolding himself from the bed. “It started with a C, didn’t it?”
Hoax hums his agreement before adding, “C or K, but my vote is on C.”
“Cutie Pie?”
“Champ?”
“Cupcake?”
“Cookie?”
“Jesus Christ.” My head drops forward as I try to drown out their ridiculous guesses. Elliot starts giggling at cupcake but loses it altogether at cookie . “Can you both just fuck off?”
“No, Brownie, we cannot.”
“Why,” I ask, knowing I will hate whatever his answer is. “Are you calling me Brownie?”
“If Elliot’s Cookie, then you’re obviously Brownie.”
“Unless he’s Cupcake,” Hoax points out, and I feel my patience snap.
“Why aren’t you in Miller’s room?”
“He got a FaceTime from Charlotte and kicked us out.”
Steal shivers, a horrified look on his face. “Their sexcapades aren’t something I ever want to accidentally witness again.”
Elliot makes a choking sound at my side, and I look down in time to see a deep blush crawl up his cheeks. I remember he asked about FaceTime calls the day we talked about our sexual histories and make a note to move that up the list of things we need to try. “How long do you think he’ll be?”
“Knowing Mills?” Hoax thinks about it for a moment. “At least an hour.”
“Jesus,” Steal’s eyebrows pinch in concern. “An hour for phone sex? What could they even be doing that takes that long?”
That brings everyone up short as we all stare at our friend. I knew his sex life with Lana wasn’t anything to write home about, but I had at least hoped it was halfway decent.
“Conrad,” I keep my tone intentionally even so he doesn’t suspect anything is out of the ordinary. “You have had sex, haven’t you?”
He flips me off, a deadpan expression replacing his confusion from a moment before. “Of course I have. I was married, asshole.”
“And what did sex with your wife...entail?” Hoax asks in an equally even tone.
Steal’s eyes sweep from me to Hoax and back again. “Why are you guys talking like that? I’ve had sex before.”
“Like once, or—” I’m cut off by a pillow being tossed at my head. I catch it before it accidentally knocks into Elliot, who sucks in a breath at my side when my arm grazes his chest. I give him a questioning look, but he shakes his head.
“Lots of times, you dickhead,” Steal grumbles at Hoax, who can’t seem to contain his laughter at the annoyance in Steal’s voice. “And that’s all I’m saying because I am a gentleman . I don’t kiss and tell.”
Hoax gives me a Can you believe this guy? look over Steal’s shoulder, and I nearly lose my composure. “Are you guys ready to go to dinner?”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Mills?”
“No,” Hoax sighs, patting Steal on the shoulder. “He’s busy having sex right now, but you know that since you’ve definitely had sex lots of times .”
“Fuck you, dude,” Steal laughs, shoving Hoax away as they move toward the front door.
I start walking ahead, but Elliot’s grip on my arm roots me in place. Neither of the guys seem to think it’s odd we’re standing still in the hall, so I do my best not to draw attention to us. Unfortunately, once they reach the door, Hoax turns a questioning look in our direction. “You guys coming?”
“In a second,” I wave him away before pointing toward my bed. “I just need to grab something.”
Hoax’s eyes slide past me, a devious smirk spreading across his face at whatever look he sees in Elliot’s eyes. “We’ll get a table.”
The moment the door closes behind them, I turn toward Elliot. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why aren’t we following them?”
“I wanted to,” Elliot trails off, his eyes darting around the room in an effort to avoid looking at me. “Do something different.”
“Different how?”
My heart beats hard in my chest, hope and nervousness warring as I wait to hear what he has to say. Elliot opens his mouth but doesn’t speak right away. After a long pause, he says, “I want to do something for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah, you know,” he sighs, gesturing broadly at me, him, the room around us.
I can’t stand that he still isn’t looking at me, so I press two knuckles into the underside of his chin and force his gaze up to mine. “Look at me when you ask for something, Princess.”
“That,” Elliot points at my chest, a wrinkle forming between his brows. “You do that for me, but I don’t get to do anything for you. I want to do something that makes you feel as good as you make me feel.”
I’m beginning to understand what he’s asking for, but I don’t want to put words in his mouth if I’m wrong. “Spell it out for me, Elliot.”
“You sent me that long list of things you tried, but how many of those things were for other people? Were any of them something you wanted to do, or just things you did because your partner wanted to do them? I don’t want to be another person who takes advantage of your willingness to do what turns me on by ignoring what turns you on.”
“You think I haven’t been turned on by what we’re doing?”
Elliot shakes his head, frustration showing in the lines around his mouth. “I’m asking what your kinks are, Grady. What is something you want to do that I haven’t brought up yet? I want to try it.”
“It’s vital to me,” I lean into him, pressing my hips against his so he can feel the hard line of my cock. “That you know I enjoy degrading you. I like calling you my filthy little cumslut while you’re choking on my cock. I want to call you my pretty whore when I’m fucking you. I enjoy it.”
I punctuate the last sentence with a slow roll of my hips against him. “I’m not as used to the humiliation part of it as I am the verbal degradation, but I’ve been doing research and?—”
“What?” Elliot holds a hand between us to stop the flow of words coming from my mouth. “What humiliation part?”
“Your humiliation kink.” He looks at me like I’ve just grown a second head. “Elliot, you do know you have a humiliation kink, right? There’s a fine line between degradation and humiliation, but there is still a line, and Princess,” I run my thumb along his lower lip, marveling at how I’m the one who gets to tell him this. “You’re straddling that line with the best of them.”
“I don’t understand.”
“How do you feel when I call you cumslut?”
“Good.”
“Do you think you would feel that same kind of good if I told you to get on all fours and kiss my shoes?”
Elliot’s eyes widen, and something shifts in his posture as if he’s about to drop to the ground and do just that. “I-I would. It would be good, yeah.”
“And how do you think,” I press forward, brushing my nose along his jaw before kissing the spot where his pulse is pounding in his neck. “You would feel if I walked you down to the restaurant and sat you on all fours next to my seat? Would you feel the same way having the whole restaurant see you being a very good boy who sits so still for me, begging for attention and getting nothing in return?”
Elliot’s breath hitches, his hips grinding into mine as if he’s chasing down an orgasm that I haven’t told him he can have.
“Do not come before I get to play with you, Elliot Bennett.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, fear flooding his eyes as his abdomen tightens so hard he nearly doubles over. “I won’t come.”
I’m not sure if he’s saying that to assure me or him, but I don’t ask for clarification. He had a question, and I intend to answer it. “You wanted to know what my kinks are, Princess?”
He nods, a breathy “yes” escaping his lips.
“I enjoy exploring different kinks with people, and there have been quite a few that top the list. I’m naturally dominant in the bedroom, so anything that allows me to explore that side of myself is high on the list for me. However,” I walk my fingers up his chest, stopping to tap at the hollow spot near the base of his throat. “I have a particular fondness for collars.”
Elliot lets out a soft whimper that sends shivers across my body, and I file that away for another day. I don’t have a collar to put on him right now, and even if I did, I wouldn’t jump into that on a whim. We would need to have several long conversations first, and I don’t have that kind of brainpower at present.
“Collars,” I repeat with a wicked grin. “And vibrating butt plugs.”
He groans, dropping his head forward to rest against my shoulder as he tries to catch his breath. “Is that,” Elliot sucks in a labored breath. “Do you have a plug here?”
“I do,” I run my fingernails up the back of his skull, making Elliot hiss and roll his hips against me. “I bought one just for you.”
It’s true. I wasn’t sure I would ever use it, but just in case Elliot decided he wanted to try something like this, I was going to be prepared. “Do you want to see it?”
“Yes, yes, fuck, please.”
“Such a good little whore to beg for your new toy,” I smirk against his temple, kissing him gently before moving over to my suitcase. It only takes me a moment to find the toy, freshly washed and fully charged, in the bottom of my toiletries bag. I might not have been certain I would get to use it, but I made sure I was well fucking prepared just in case.
I grab the bottle of lube from the side pocket of the bag, turning back to Elliot and gesturing for him to join me on the bed. He’s there instantly, eyes locked on the little silicone toy in my hands.
“It’s green.”
“That’s your favorite color, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes, but,” Elliot blushes the most beautiful shade of red. “I’m not the one who will be looking at it.”
“True, but I like the way you look in green,” I admit, so I don’t have to tell him I bought a green plug on the off chance it would make him like it more. “Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
It’s a whisper but holds enough emotion for me to believe he means it. “Would you let me control your plug while we eat dinner with our friends tonight?”
I’m not sure why I feel so vulnerable asking the question. Elliot said he wanted to do something for me, and I know he’ll get off on the idea of not being able to stop himself from coming in his pants in the middle of a crowded restaurant, so that isn’t the problem. Yet, there’s a part of me that is convinced he will say no, and this will all be over.
“Yes,” he finally breathes, his eyes trailing from the plug to my face. I think there isn’t a sweeter sound in the world than Elliot saying yes to me until he opens his mouth again. “Will you put it in for me?”