Chapter 8 #2
“Not my favorite.”
Her expression changed.
I carried her three steps to the new counter and set her on it.
She looked down.
“Did you just check the weight rating?”
“No.”
“Gray.”
“I built the cabinet.”
“So yes.”
“It’ll hold.”
She pulled me between her knees.
“Good.”
Then she kissed me again.
I slid both hands up her thighs.
Warm skin.
Soft where my fingers tightened.
Piper leaned back enough for me to kiss her throat.
Her head tipped against the wall.
“That.”
Useful information.
I did it again.
Her legs tightened around me.
My mouth moved lower, over the edge of her tank top, while my hands slid under the hem.
Piper raised her arms without being asked.
I pulled the shirt over her head.
Black bra.
Curves.
A body I had been trying not to stare at since the day she arrived.
I stared.
She noticed.
“Problem?”
“No.”
“You stopped.”
“I was looking.”
Her mouth softened.
Not embarrassed.
Not apologizing.
Good.
I put my hands on her waist and let myself look properly.
“You are extremely distracting.”
“Thank you.”
“Not a compliment.”
“Liar.”
I kissed the top of one breast.
Her breath caught.
Then lower.
Her fingers went into my hair.
My own shirt disappeared somewhere behind me because Piper apparently considered undressing an engineering challenge she could solve by force.
Her mouth found my shoulder.
Teeth.
I tightened my grip on her hips.
“Do that again.”
She did.
Harder.
“Fuck.”
Piper laughed against my skin.
“Useful information.”
I looked at her.
“Don’t steal my language.”
“You don’t own information.”
“I hate photographers.”
“No, you don’t.”
No.
I really did not.
I kissed her until she stopped being pleased with herself.
Then I moved to her neck, her chest, the warm skin above her bra.
Piper reached behind herself and unclasped it.
Direct.
I approved.
The bra landed on the counter beside her.
My brain ceased work for several seconds.
Piper’s breasts were full, her nipples already tight in the cool air from the window unit.
I covered one with my hand.
Her back arched.
There.
I used my thumb slowly.
Her breathing changed.
“More.”
I gave her more.
Her fingers closed around the back of my neck while I took the other nipple into my mouth.
Piper swore.
The sound went straight through me.
I did it again.
She shifted against the counter.
My hand moved from her breast to the button of her shorts.
I stopped.
Her eyes opened.
“Why did you stop?”
“I want these off.”
“That’s not usually accomplished by stopping.”
“Smartass.”
“Frequently.”
I unbuttoned them.
Piper lifted her hips and helped me pull the shorts down her legs.
Underwear followed.
Then she sat on the countertop naked from the waist down while I stood between her knees trying to remember why anyone voluntarily chose restraint.
Her gaze dropped to the front of my shorts.
“You seem tense.”
“I am going to ignore you.”
“That would be a first.”
I put my hands on her thighs and spread them.
The joke left her face.
Good.
I wanted that too.
Not because I disliked the humor.
Because I wanted to know what she looked like when she had no spare attention for it.
I lowered myself.
Piper inhaled sharply.
“Gray.”
I looked up.
She was watching me.
I kissed the inside of her knee.
Then higher.
Her fingers gripped the edge of the counter.
“Are you going to make me ask?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I put my mouth on her.
Her entire body jerked.
There.
That was what I wanted.
I held her hips when she tried to move closer and used my tongue slowly until the first sharp tension left her thighs.
Then I adjusted.
Piper made a sound that was not remotely quiet.
I looked up.
Her head had fallen back.
One hand had gone into my hair.
“Again.”
I did exactly what had caused the sound.
Her fingers tightened.
“Yes.”
I liked instructions when they were useful.
I liked Piper’s even more.
I kept the pressure steady.
No improvising because I wanted credit for creativity.
No changing rhythm because I was bored.
She had told me what worked.
I believed her.
Her thighs tightened against my shoulders.
I slid one hand up over her stomach, holding her where I could feel each breath.
“Gray.”
My name came out broken.
I wanted it again.
I moved my mouth harder.
Piper’s heel pressed into my back.
Her fingers pulled my hair.
“Don’t stop.”
I had no intention of stopping.
She came hard enough that her whole body went rigid before it shook.
I held her through it.
Only when her grip loosened did I lift my head.
Piper stared down at me.
Her hair was falling out around the pencil she had stolen.
She looked furious.
I stood.
“Problem?”
She grabbed my face and kissed me.
Apparently not.
Her tongue swept into my mouth.
My hands closed around her hips.
Then hers went straight to my belt.
I caught them.
Piper pulled back.
“What?”
I was painfully hard.
This was not subtle.
“I have condoms in the house.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“Okay.”
“Not here.”
“You installed a deadbolt but did not stock contraceptives?”
“I was repairing water damage.”
“Poor planning.”
“I agree.”
She laughed.
Then her expression softened.
“We don’t have to do everything today.”
The statement should not have felt like relief.
It did.
Not because I wanted her less.
Because I wanted enough with her that not finishing a checklist mattered.
I put my forehead against hers.
“I want to.”
“I know.”
“I also don’t want the first time I fuck you to happen because I was jealous of Rafe and decided to catch up.”
Piper went still.
There.
Ugly truth.
Useful truth.
Her hand moved from my belt to my chest.
“Thank you.”
“I dislike that answer.”
“Why?”
“It sounds mature.”
“Tragic.”
“Don’t tell Rafe.”
“He’ll organize an intervention.”
“He’ll make a banner.”
“Definitely a banner.”
I kissed her.
Slower this time.
Her hand moved down my stomach.
I caught her wrist again.
“That wasn’t a prohibition.”
“Good.”
Her fingers slid over the front of my shorts.
My eyes closed.
“Piper.”
“Yes?”
“I am attempting personal growth.”
“You can grow again in ten minutes.”
I laughed into her mouth.
Then her hand went inside my waistband and I stopped laughing.
She wrapped her fingers around me.
Everything in my body concentrated there.
“Fuck.”
“Still mature?”
“No.”
“Excellent.”
Her hand moved slowly.
I braced both palms on the counter around her.
She watched my face.
That might have been the worst part.
Or the best.
Piper photographed people for a living because she noticed reactions before they could hide.
Now she used the same attention on me.
When my breathing changed, her grip changed.
When my hips moved, she smiled.
When I tried to close my eyes, she kissed me.
“You don’t get to disappear into logistics now.”
“I’m not.”
“You were thinking.”
“I always think.”
“Stop.”
Impossible.
Then she twisted her hand on the next stroke and thinking became briefly optional.
I groaned against her shoulder.
“That.”
“Useful information?”
“Yes.”
She did it again.
I gripped the counter hard enough to feel the cabinet remain perfectly secure beneath both our weight.
Piper laughed softly.
“Did you just think about the cabinet?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
I kissed her to shut her up.
Her hand moved faster.
My body tightened.
I pulled back enough to breathe.
“Piper.”
She looked at me.
No teasing now.
Just attention.
I came with my forehead against hers and one hand tight around her waist.
For several seconds neither of us moved.
Then Piper said, “Your cabinetry is excellent.”
I started laughing.
I could not help it.
She joined me.
The sound filled the little cottage that had spent a week full of fans, torn drywall, and moisture meters.
Something about that hit me unexpectedly.
Piper’s laughter inside a room I had repaired for her.
Not to keep her.
Not to earn her.
Just because we had promised her a usable place and she deserved to receive what she had been promised.
I stepped back long enough to find her underwear and shorts.
She took them from me.
“Thank you.”
“For locating your pants?”
“For all of it.”
I leaned against the opposite counter while she dressed.
“My motives stopped being entirely professional somewhere around the deadbolt.”
“I noticed.”
She pulled her tank top on and searched the counter for her bra.
I handed it to her.
“Very gallant.”
“I found it on my drill.”
“Occupational hazard.”
Her phone chimed beside the camera.
Piper checked it.
Her expression changed.
I straightened.
“Evan?”
“No.”
Good.
I disliked how relieved I felt.
She read the message again.
“It’s an inquiry.”
“Wedding?”
“Family session.”
“Here?”
She nodded slowly.