Chapter 16 #2
A full body flush starts in the center of my chest and sweeps across every inch of my skin.
"Oh." It's barely a word. "W-well, that's…
good. I think." I clear my throat. He's staring at me so hard I can barely breathe.
So I pick up my mug, desperate for something to do with my hands and eyes that don't involve him.
"Then…yeah. Then I guess that's it. I'm sober, and I'm asking again if you'll teach me about this part of life too. "
Still, he watches me through several measured breaths. "And the alternative is you finding some random guy out there?"
I frown, shaking my head a little. "I don't know what else to do.
But I know I don't want to wait anymore I'm twenty-four, Grey.
I'm twenty-four, and I feel like I'm just getting to live.
It's not fair that it's been like this. And now that I know just how unfair it is, I'm through sitting around, waiting for the right time.
The right night. I think I've already found the right guy.
The thought of going out there to find someone scares me.
" I admit it all without meaning to and bite my bottom lip to stop me from saying more.
"But I've already asked so much of you. If this is too much--"
"I'll do it."
My mouth is still open for the rest of the sentence I guess I won't speak. "You will?" I say instead. "Really?"
A solitary nod. I can't tell how he feels. He looks a little angry, if I'm honest--brows together, jaw set, eyes narrowed, but they're on fire, and the heat of his gaze leaves me squirming. "But we're gonna establish ground rules."
"Okay," I say breathlessly, beginning to smile. I'm going to get kissed. Coach is going to kiss me. My heart is beating so fast and hard, I feel like I might faint. "Should I get a pen?"
He laughs, that glorious sound untwisting the tether between us enough to grant me room to breathe.
"I don't think you'll need one. If we're going to do this, we have to do what we can to keep it simple.
Or it'll get messy, fast." I nod. He continues.
"Physical attraction complicates things--it comes with feelings.
This…this has to be casual. No promises.
No expectations. You are my friend, and that comes first. But we have to agree that we can walk away at any time without owing each other anything.
We aren't dating, and we won't--. You deserve more than I can give you, and I won't lead you on.
I don't want to hurt you, and if we're not careful, I will. You need to understand this part."
My excitement has twisted up into a ball and rolled into my throat. I still can't breathe, but for different reasons. "Don't fall in love with Coach," I joke. "Got it."
He reacts with a noise and a quirk of his face, but it's neutral enough that I'm not sure what he's thinking.
"Other ground rules. Always sober. Only here, at your place.
No spending the night." I must look disappointed, because he softens a little, saying, "Not because I won't want to.
I will. This is how we protect ourselves.
It has nothing to do with what we want and everything to do with keeping space between us.
I think we should keep it on the low, too.
People are already talking about us, but we have a cover story that they believe--I am helping you with your house, and you are paying me with food.
We are friends. That's it. If they find out, they will crucify me for preying on you because of our age difference.
God only knows what they'll say about you.
And I'll end up in jail if I hear a word of it.
So if you need a reason, do it for my criminal record. "
I hate this conversation a little and get up to hide my face, chuckling a little awkwardly.
"I really think I need to write all this down.
" By the time I've got a notepad and pen, I've got myself under control.
Hastily, I scribble down what rules we've already gone over, drawing my legs up so my feet are on the seat.
"Molly, look at me."
My lips are pinched painfully between my teeth, but I look up at him and find a plea behind his eyes.
"I will teach you anything you want to know, even if it's just kissing.
But I know better than to think it won't go further.
Which means we are entering into a sexual relationship.
" He pauses, staring at me like that, then says, "This is not a game to me.
So I need to ask you. Are you sure you want to do this? "
I pin him with all the heat in my chest, what he put there, what he sparked in me. "Grey, I want to do this so fucking bad, I can't see straight."
A laugh of disbelief puffs out of him, his body relaxing. But his eyes are still red hot when he says, "Good. Now, the fun stuff."
Our smiles rise together.
"First--, you lead. You are in control. We're gonna take this one step at a time, and at your pace. You will initiate unless it's a lesson we've already agreed to. And if you want to stop, we stop. We can have a code word, if you want. Like…rain check."
I giggle, writing down rain check real big and underlining it. "Could we have one for, um, initiation? Like, if I want to…you know. Fool around, or whatever. Maybe, Put me in, coach."
This time his laugh is more of a snort.
"And if you're down," I continue, "You could answer, Batter up."
And I earn a bark of laughter, his face tilted up and Adam's apple bobbing.
"Christ, peaches. All right. That works for me.
I think we take it by the classic bases for steps, but I'll fudge it a little.
First--, kissing. Second base--, touch. Third--, oral.
Home--, sex." He says it so clinically. Meanwhile, my cheeks flame.
"We'll go as far as you want, at whatever pace you want. Like I said--, you're in charge."
When I realize he's waiting for my approval, I say, "Okay. When do we start?"
He grabs the seat of my chair and pulls me toward him. "Now." One gruff, rumbling word, underscored by a new heat, this one crackling like a live wire between us. "If you want," he adds when I'm nearly in his lap.
"I want," I breathe, tossing my pad and pen blindly onto the table. My eyes haven't left his.
Grey watches his hand as he moves my hair back on one side, his knuckles grazing my cheek. "Last rule," he says gently. "If I think you're in too deep, I call a time out. Will you respect that?"
"Uh-huh." I nod stupidly, pretty sure I shouldn't be making any major decisions right now. Somewhere in the back of my mind, my heart issues a muffled warning, something about what happens if we fall for each other, but the thought is so ludicrous, my brain smothers it with a pillow.
Because at the moment, I cannot find one single brain cell that gives a fuck.
His legs are spread, the seats of our chairs touching, my legs still pulled in, knees up. With those gargantuan hands of his, he cups my calves and pulls with perfect certainty, dragging me nearly into his lap, slinging my thighs over his.
We haven't even kissed, and this is the hottest thing that's ever happened to me.
"Kissing 101," he says, smirking.
"Wait--should I get my pen?" I ask quietly.
"No. I want your full and undivided attention." Again, he's brushing my hair back, but now it feels like an excuse to stroke my jaw, my neck, my cheek.
I'm nodding like a dummy. "Okie dokie."
"Kissing's not all that complicated," he begins, and I watch his lips shape every word, mesmerized. "But there's a trick to it. It's not about skill--it's about paying attention. Matching. Don't rush…listen to yourself. And then give yourself over to it."
We've gotten closer somehow. I don't know when it happened, but his breath brushes my lips, the heat of his body mingling with mine.
"What do I do with my hands?"
Grey reaches for my wrists and guides my hands to his chest. "Whatever you want. Do what feels good."
His tee is soft beneath my hands, and I can feel his heart beating hard. I skate my hands down his pecs, his rock-hard nipples tight beneath my fingertips. Goosebumps race up my arms.
"Angle like this." He cups my jaw with both hands, tilting my face.
"Otherwise you'll smash noses. Get close, close enough to feel each other's breath.
" For a second, we wait there, his fingertips shifting against my neck.
He's too close to see, so I close my eyes and memorize the feeling of every place we touch, starting with my hands, still skating across his chest slowly, the hammer of his heart vibrating into my fingertips.
"Follow me," he whispers against my mouth. My stomach drops.
Anywhere.
He draws a breath that pulls me closer, his hands firm and tender, holding my face like a sacred thing, the stretch of silence unbearable until--
A shock of softness, and the world narrows--no sound, no motion, just pressure and heat and Grey. His lips are hot and pliant, gentle.
Polite.
He pulls away, and I almost fall into him, my lips chasing his.
My eyes blink open to find him watching me. He's conflicted, some war waging behind his eyes. And I am unabashedly pouting.
"Grey."
"What?"
I pause, eyeing him in challenge. "I know you can do better than that."
The flare in him singes me, leaving me smoldering. My face is tilted up to his, and he peers down into my eyes, into me. "Molly…" It's a warning.
"Do it," I whisper.
The heartbeat of his hesitation is eternal. And when his restraint snaps, my world snaps with it.
Our mouths meet with a crash I feel in my bones, a messy, hungry rush.
The air punches out of my lungs at the contact, lips crushed, parted, nipped, his tongue demanding entry before I can even think to give it.
My body answers before my mind, my hands clutching at his shirt, his shoulders, his arms, anything to tether me to him.
I'm flooded by the taste of him, of salt and heat, drunk on the sweetness of his breath.
The slick slide of his tongue against mine, the scrape of his teeth catching my lip, and I'm gasping into his mouth, helpless.
He consumes me until I'm inside the fire instead of out, more creature than woman as I pull myself into his lap, fitting the seam of my body against the rigid length of him.
Endlessly, instantaneously, I feel him all over, everywhere.
This time, when he pulls back, I'm left dazed, dizzy, lips swollen and breath ragged. I'm still stretching for him chasing his mouth, my brain stuttering, holy shit holy shit holy shit.
He smiles knowingly, thumbing my chin. But his breath gives him away, quick and heavy. I ache in his lap, not sure if I'm better or worse now that I know what his mouth can do.
"Careful," he rasps. "You should know me well enough to know I don't do anything halfway."
I laugh, moving to kiss him again, but he pulls back, fixing my glasses. "That's enough for today."
My brow furrows, and I try really hard not to pout. "I thought I was supposed to lead. Put me in coach!"
He unseats me like a dickhead and puts me back in my chair, my arms folded all the while. "And you said you'd respect if I called it." He leans in, meets my eyes. "Do you mean to tell me you had that under control? Because I sure fucking didn't."
"Fair," I concede, arms still folded, but I soften a little. "I'm worried this is going to be harder than I imagined."
There's something I can't quite read behind his eyes when he says, "You and me both."