Chapter 6
GRACE
The bedsheets smell of him, pine and wood and something musky that’s distinctly Calvin. I bury my nose in the pillow and breathe deeply.
The scent makes the skin prickle on the back of my neck and a shock of heat travels all the way down my body, making the back of my knees tingle.
“Come on.” I roll onto my back. “Not again.”
I had this same heady feeling when I met Tim, hot skin and tingles all over.
I know now it had more to do with the adrenaline racing through my body from all the crazy things we did together against the backdrop of a mini heatwave than the way I felt about him.
Between the skydiving, the rock climbing and zip lining, I was in a constant state of heightened nerves.
This is different.
There’s certainly no adrenaline high from spending time with Mr. Grumpy Pants.
And yet, when I think of Calvin sleeping on the couch because he insisted I take the bed, with only a wall of logs separating us, it’s more than a tingle I feel.
There’s an ache between my legs, a tug in my core. And I never felt that with Tim.
I throw the sheet off my heated body and lie on my back panting. The t-shirt Calvin gave me to wear is plain white cotton and the fabric brushes against my bare nipples, turning them into hard peaks.
Who has a drawer full of only plain white t-shirts anyway? The hot, sexy man sleeping on the couch does, that’s who.
I close my eyes, trying to ignore the ache between my legs and the painful scrape of my nipples. I roll onto my side, but there’s no relief.
If I can just ease the tension a little, calm my nipples so they stop being so damn sensitive, then I might be able to sleep.
My hand slides up my t-shirt, over the folds of my belly, to cup my left breast in my palm. I pull the fabric away from the nipple but as my fingers brush the areola, a shock of pleasure spikes in my breast and shoots its long tendrils through my body. Dampness floods my panties.
“Oh shit.” I’ve made it worse.
Now all I can think about is how it would feel if Calvin was in here beside me, sliding his big manly hand up my t-shirt. If it were his fingers caressing my nipples…
My back arches at the sensation and I close my eyes, giving into the fantasy.
My other hand slides into the sweatpants he lent me, and I moan as my palm presses against my aching mound.
I bet he’d know what to do with a woman. I bet he’d be slow and methodical and thorough, stroking in a steady rhythm. Which is what I do now, imagining his hand sliding between my legs.
I roll onto my stomach and push my face into the pillow to stifle the moans that escape my lips.
My hips lift and I raise my butt into the air, pumping slowly as my fantasy grows more intense. Now he’s behind me with his large dick, because I’m sure he’s got a large dick, pressing at my entrance.
My finger slides between my slick folds and into my pussy, and I imagine it’s him, his dick pushing into me while he cups my breast.
“Fuuccck,” I groan into the pillow as the pressure builds. My palm circles my clit, giving it exactly the right amount of tension that it needs as my fingers dip inside me.
I breathe deep, and it’s the lingering scent of him on the pillow that tips me over the edge. I shatter on my palm as waves of pleasure envelope me. My face contorts, and I bite the pillow to stop me from crying out.
As the waves subside, I reapply the pressure, pushing myself to climax again and again as I scream silently into the pillow.
Afterwards, I collapse, panting onto my back, breathing hard and staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling.
I don’t know what it is I’m feeling for Calvin, and I won’t let my stupid heart leap into something again. But one thing’s for sure; I never fantasized about Tim like that. I’ve never fantasized about anyone like that.
I think back to the conversation earlier outside the cafe. With Tim, I thought it was love at first sight, but it wasn’t. With Calvin, I can confirm for sure that whatever else it is, it’s definitely lust at first sight.