Chapter 15 #2
Grant's fingers traced her spine, her ribs, the soft curve of her stomach, and Riley arched into his touch. She could feel how much he wanted her—the hard press of him beneath her, the way his breathing had gone ragged, the barely controlled tension in his hands.
And something in Riley just…cracked open.
She wanted to tell him. Wanted to say all the things she'd been thinking, all the filthy thoughts that had been running through her head all night.
Riley Monroe didn't talk like that—not really, not ever—but with Grant, she wanted to.
She trusted him completely. Wanted to open herself up to him in every way.
"Grant—" she breathed.
"Yeah?"
"I need to tell you something."
His hands stilled. "Okay."
"I've been thinking about you all day." The words came out breathless but deliberate. "About this. About your hands on me." She rocked her hips against him, whispering the words.
Grant's grip tightened on her waist. "Riley—"
"At the party, I could barely focus because all I wanted was you touching me.
" She rolled her hips against him again, feeling him surge beneath her.
"Fucking me." She waited to see if he he’d react to her blunt words.
Riley was just warming up, and watching Grant get even more turned on by what she said was making her even hotter.
Grant made a sound low in his throat—half groan, half growl—and it sent heat straight through Riley.
"I love when you make that sound," she said, emboldened. "When I can feel how much you want me."
"I do want you," Grant managed, his voice rough. "So fucking much."
“The things I want you to do to me…” she whispered in his ear, right before dragging her tongue down his neck.
"Tell me."
“Fuck me, Grant. Right now. Take me.”
Something in Grant's expression shifted—darker, hungrier—and then his hands were everywhere. Coat shoved off, sweater pulled over her head, his mouth finding her collarbone, her shoulder, the curve of her neck.
Riley's head fell back, giving him access, letting him worship her. His hands found the clasp of her bra, and she helped him remove it, and then his mouth was on her breast and Riley forgot how to breathe.
"God!" She gasped as his tongue circled her nipple. "Yes—like that— Oh, Grant, I love when you do that." And she did. It sent a jolt straight to her core.
Grant's mouth was hot and thorough, lavishing attention on first one breast then the other, his hands cupping her, thumbs brushing over the peaks until Riley was squirming in his lap, desperate for more.
"You're so beautiful," Grant murmured against her skin. "So fucking perfect."
"Don't stop," Riley managed. "Please don't stop."
“I can’t get enough of you, Riley.”
His teeth grazed her nipple gently and Riley cried out, her hips rolling against him involuntarily.
"You like that?" Grant asked, doing it again.
"Yes—God, yes—"
His hands slid down to her jeans, and Riley lifted her hips to help him. The logistics were awkward—the console in the way, not enough space—but they fumbled through it together until her jeans were off, his following, and then there was nothing between them but want.
Grant's hands slid up her thighs, and Riley shivered.
"You're shaking," he said softly. “Are you cold, baby?”
She shook her head. " I love when you call me that. I want you so much," Riley admitted. "I can't—I need—"
"What do you need?"
"You. I want your thick, hard cock to slide inside me. Right. Now." She bit her bottom lip sheepishly, but Grant’s expression changed.
Grant fumbled for his wallet, his hands less steady than usual, and Riley helped him with the condom, both of them breathing hard.
And then she was positioning herself over him, her hand guiding him, and sinking down with a gasp that punched the air from both their lungs.
Riley stayed still for a moment, adjusting to the feel of him, and Grant's hands gripped her hips hard as if he was trying to restrain himself.
"Is this okay?" he managed.
"Perfect." Riley started to move, slow at first, finding her rhythm. "You feel so good."
"Riley—"
She picked up the pace, her hands braced on his shoulders, chasing the pleasure building inside her. Every time she moved, Grant's hands guided her hips, helped her find the angle that made them both gasp.
"God, you feel so good inside me," Riley heard herself say, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "I've been wanting this all day." She raised her arms up, bracing herself on the roof of the truck, pushing down on him.
Grant's hips bucked beneath her and he reached up to caress her breasts again, driving her wild. "Riley—" He licked at her nipple again, and she started to go harder. Faster.
"I couldn't concentrate at the party," she continued, feeling bold, feeling free. She was getting close and every time he touched her at the same time he was thrusting into her, she got closer. "All I wanted was you. This. The feel of you inside me. Your mouth on me. Your hands…"
"Fuck," Grant groaned, and Riley loved the way he was looking at her—like she was everything, like he couldn't get enough.
"You like when I talk to you?" she asked, rolling her hips deliberately.
"Yes—God, yes—"
"I've been wet for you all night," Riley breathed, and watched his eyes go dark. "Thinking about your lips on me. Your hands all over me. You…filling me up… Like this."
Grant's control seemed to snap. His hands tightened on her hips, guiding her faster, his own hips thrusting up to meet her harder, and Riley lost herself in the rhythm, in the heat, in the way they fit together.
“I love your dirty mouth, Riley. Talk to me. Tell me what you want.” Grant was panting and Riley could see he was trying not to lose control. It made her feel powerful and sexy.
“Watch me ride you, Grant. See what you do to me? Can you feel how wet I am for you?” Grant groaned beneath her, and his reaction just wound her up that much more. “I want to make you come, Grant…”
The windows fogged. The truck creaked. Riley didn't care about anything except this—Grant beneath her, inside her, the pleasure building higher and tighter with every movement.
"Fuck, Riley. Touch yourself," Grant said roughly. "I need to see you."
Riley's hand slid between them, her fingers finding her clit, and the added sensation made her gasp. She was so close, so desperate for release.
"That's it," Grant groaned, watching her. "God, you're so beautiful like this. Take what you want from me, baby."
"Grant—I'm so close—" She was. Riley was trying to hold out, but letting herself go, it was making the sex so much better, which she hadn’t thought possible.
"I know. I can feel you." He shifted his angle, thrusting deeper, and Riley cried out.
"Right there—don't stop— harder! Fuck!" She threw her head back again, breathing harder and faster as he thrust into her. With her hands on the roof of the truck, her body stretched out before him, she let herself feel him everywhere.
“Look at me, Riley. This is for me. You’re mine.”
“Yes!” she called out, bouncing up and down as he worked her over.
“Say it,” Grant grunted roughly. “Say you belong to me,” he begged, still pounding into her. She was so close.
His possessiveness in this moment stole the last of her constraint. She let go, pulsing around him. “I’m yours, Grant. I’m yours!”
Grant didn't stop. His hands gripped her hips harder, helping her move, his eyes locked on hers, and Riley came apart with his name on her lips, her whole body shaking with the force.
She threw her head back again and cried out his name as he finished seconds later, his face buried in her neck, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.
“Fuck, baby.” He let out a long breath, running his hands up and down her back. “Are you good? Are you okay?” he asked.
This was different.
It was raw. Pure lust. But the kind you could only open yourself up to with the right person.
They stayed like that for a long moment—both trembling, both gasping for air, slowly coming back to earth.
"Holy shit," Riley finally managed.
"Yeah."
She leaned back to look at him, both of them flushed and wrecked and grinning.
"That was—"
"Yeah."
"I can't believe I said all that," Riley admitted, feeling her face heat.
"I can't believe how hot it was." Grant's smile was soft. "You can say anything to me. Anything. I love hearing what you're thinking. Especially your filthy little thoughts."
Riley kissed him, soft and deep. "Good. Because I have a lot more thoughts I’d like to share."
"Is that a promise?"
"Definitely."
They stayed tangled together for a long moment, neither wanting to move, to break the spell.
Eventually, they had to get dressed—clothes retrieved from various corners of the truck, both of them laughing at the awkwardness of it, the intimacy of helping each other back into sweaters and finding misplaced socks.
Grant drove Riley home, their hands linked across the console the entire way.
He pulled into her driveway and killed the engine.
"Thank you," Riley said quietly. "For tonight."
"For the party or the incredible truck sex?"
"Both."
Grant's laugh was warm. "Anytime."
Riley leaned across the console and kissed him—soft and sweet and full of things she couldn't say yet.
"See you tomorrow?" she asked.
"Definitely. Come by the farm if you want. I'll be there all day."
"Maybe I will."
"Riley?"
"Yeah?"
"Tonight was—" Grant stopped, searching for words. "It was really good."
"It was."
"I mean all of it. The party. Driving around. Just being with you."
Riley's chest went tight. "Me too."
She climbed out of the truck and headed to her door, glancing back once to find Grant still watching her, that soft smile on his handsome face. He never left until she was inside the house.
Once inside, Riley leaned against the closed door and pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her heart race.
Whatever we want. His earlier words still resonated with her.
The problem was, Riley was starting to realize exactly what she wanted.
And it terrified her.
It was becoming impossible to pretend this didn't mean something.