30. Grayson
grayson
. . .
THIRTY
I open my front door for Maisie like the gentleman I am, though my eyes have been telling her a different story tonight.
I know everyone could see me eye-fucking her all night, but I couldn’t help it.
She looked downright edible in her little dress and boots.
I wanted to tear it right off her the moment she walked out.
She’s lucky I let her out the front door before needing to taste her lips again.
It would have been so easy to slip her dress up over her hips and bend her over my couch.
Maisie consumes my every waking thought.
My body just reacts when I’m near her. I don’t know why I followed her over to the cooler.
I blame the beer running through me, but she was too tempting not to chase.
I know she was running from my gaze and how worked up I had her.
I’m tired of pretending I don’t want her.
Maisie Rae Brooks is all mine, and it’s about damn time she and the whole world knew it.
“Would you like a night cap?” I ask her, hanging my jacket by the door.
She eyes me with curiosity, like a cornered dog deciding its next move. “Sure, why not.”
She sits on a barstool while I head to my bar cart. “What’s your poison of the night?”
Her brow quirks in challenge. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
She’s so predictable. I grab two short glasses and my oldest bottle of whiskey, adding a large ice rock from the freezer before pouring a generous amount in each glass.
I peek over at her, seeing if she’ll back down, but my girl loves a good challenge.
I flick my chin to the surround-sound system.
“You can play some music if you connect to the Bluetooth.”
She saunters over to the speaker, a big smirk on her face. ‘Tennessee Whiskey’ comes on, and I chuckle, handing over her whiskey glass.
“Cheers, honey.” We clink glasses and each take a sip, holding eye contact the whole time.
She doesn’t flinch as the liquor hits the back of her throat, and my heart picks up at the challenge in her eyes.
I have just the perfect idea to see how far that flame in her eyes will burn. I hope they burn me alive.
I slump into my leather side chair, legs spread wide, whiskey glass resting on my knee. Her eyes flicker down to my crotch. I watch them dilate. “Let’s play a game,” I suggest.
She sits in the chair opposite of me, crossing her legs. “What do you have in mind?”
“Truth or dare.”
Her face flames with embarrassment. “What are we, thirteen again?”
“If you’re scared, just say so,” I taunt, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees.
“Truth,” she blurts, getting comfy in her chair, that fiery challenge back in her eyes.
My eyes flare, surprised by her willingness. I know my question immediately. “Why have you sworn off all men?”
I can tell I’ve caught her off guard, but she collects herself quickly. “Easy. They are cheaters.”
What? I want to ask her more questions to get to the bottom of this, but she has other plans. I’m starting not to like this game.
“Truth or dare?” she asks, the side of her lip curved.
“Truth,” I say, taking another sip of my whiskey.
She studies me for a moment. “Why did you offer up your home for me to crash at?”
My answer comes easily. No reason beating around the bush. “You needed a place to stay, and, selfishly, I wanted you under my roof.”
The delicious gasp I draw from her is so worth the honesty. I want a million more of them. I don’t let her have a second to collect herself before I’m asking, “Truth or dare, honey?”
She gulps, holding my eyes with zero hesitation.
“Dare.” She takes one large swig of her whiskey and then delicately unbuttons her jean vest, one button at a time, until her low cut dress and lace bra peek out.
I have to dig my nails into my chair so I don’t jump her.
She’s playing with fire here, and I hope she knows what she’s just started.
“I was hot,” she supplies, attempting her best to look innocent. This woman is the furthest thing from it right now.
My voice lowers, a deep gravel. “I dare you to crawl to me.”
She nibbles her lip for only a moment before she downs the rest of her drink, slamming it down to drop to her knees.
She lets her jean vest slip off, falling behind her.
One palm finds the floor, the other following.
Her eyes never leave mine; in this position with her low cut dress, it gives me the perfect view down to her white lace bra barely containing her breasts.
Unholy thoughts rush through my mind, a primal need to act on every single one of them.
This woman was conjured from my dreams. For someone who hates being told what to do and is more fiery than a spark, she sure does follow my commands deliciously well.
It makes me wonder what else I could get her to do.
It also reminds me of every punishment I’ve tallied in my head over the past month.
Dracula by Labrinth filters through the speaker next, charging the room. The gleam in Maisie’s eyes has my dick throbbing in my jeans. With each inch she gains on me, my sanity is closer to snapping. Her signature smirk remains on her face, and she shimmies her hips slowly.
“Fuck,” I growl, biting my lip. Who knew a summer dress could look so filthy? “You’re killing me, honey,” I groan, shifting in my seat.
“You enjoying the show, cowboy?” she taunts.
There are only two feet remaining between us, and she drags it out, putting on a show for me like she does this every night. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.
“That’s it,” I praise her, out of breath as she nears my feet. I suck in a breath when her finger drags up my pant leg, the barest touch. She trails her other hand until her palms are laid flat on my knees. I resist the urge to lean forward and pull her in for a kiss by her throat.
The little tease swipes my whiskey glass and takes a swig, managing to let half of it trickle down her chin, pooling in her bra. She sits back on her heels, smug as fuck. “Now what, honey?” she taunts.
“Dare,” I rush out, unable to focus on anything but the bead of whiskey making its slow descent to her cleavage.
The corners of her mouth tug up. “It seems I’ve made a mess, sir,” she pouts. “I dare you to clean it up…with your tongue.”
I’m out of my chair so fast, Maisie now in my arms, that she squeals with excitement.
I throw her down in my leather chair, changing spots with her.
“Stay,” I order. Her chest heaves but she stays put.
My girl wants to play, and who am I to leave her wanting?
“Hands on the arms of the chair.” She does so eagerly, like a good girl, and my dick twitches.
I drop to my knees and spread her legs so I’m kneeling between them. She squirms, eager for my next move. I’m not sure who will break first, but I’m not feeling very strong right now.
“You’re such a good listener when you want something. Are you going to be good and stay still for me?” I ask her.
Her whimpers could be heard all the way from her cabin. “Yes,” she breathes, licking her lips.
“That’s my good girl,” I praise, drawing my palms up her bare thighs before they disappear under her dress. Her legs quiver under my touch. “You want me to clean up your mess, honey?”
“Mhm,” she moans. “Every. Last. Drop.”
Well, fuck me, that might have been the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
I can’t last a single second longer without tasting her.
“Open your mouth,” I demand, and she does eagerly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
I take a sip of my whiskey and then lean over her, spitting it into her mouth, watching it hit the back of her throat.
She moans around the liquid, her eyes rolling back. “Fuck—”
I chase the liquor with my mouth, devouring her lips and cutting her off.
I lick and suck away every delicious last drop of sweet whiskey mixed with her intoxicating taste.
I lap her up, sucking her tongue into my mouth like a starved man.
My tongue flicks across her bottom lip, then her jaw, following the path of the whiskey left behind from earlier.
“More, please,” Maisie whines, grinding against me.
Her words egg me on, my tongue traces the dip of her neck, licking up every last drop.
She tastes like heaven and sin and everything I’ve needed for a long time.
I suck the soft flesh of her neck before giving it a love bite.
To my surprise, she moans, and I drag my tongue across the bite to chase away the pain.
I mark a trail down the base of her throat with my tongue, somehow not getting enough of her. “Is this okay?” I ask as my tongue traces the top of her breast.
“Yes,” she pants, pushing her chest out.
I smile against her skin. My mouth grazes the strap of her dress and bra before I tug it off her shoulder with my teeth.
They dangle, making her dress fall further down her chest. I repeat the motion with her other side until her dress pools at her waist, leaving her bra just barely covering her breasts.
“And this,” I ask, trailing my finger under the lace hem, barely grazing her hard nipple. She shivers, her eyes fluttering closed. She nods furiously, her face lost to pleasure. “Words, Maisie.”
“Fuck yes…don’t stop,” she pants, pushing her chest into my palm. I quickly undo the clasp of her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her bare breasts spill out, the perfect size to fit in my palm. Her nipples pebble against the cold air.
There’s only a tiny amount of whiskey left in my glass, plus a melted ice cube the size of a gumball.
“Lean back,” I command softly. She does so obediently, pressing her tits into the air for me.
“Good girl,” I rasp. I love how responsive she is.
Ever since losing control of my life, being able to have control in the bedroom has helped me feel myself again. I love how much she loves to please me.
I tip the glass above Maisie’s chest, letting a little trickle onto her skin.
She sucks in a breath when the cold liquid meets her skin.
She looks up at me through her long lashes.
I can tell she wants me to use her, but she’s not ready for that.
For me. Tonight, I just want to play, to see how much she wants this too. I need her desperate for me.
“So fucking beautiful,” I growl, looking over her heaving body.
The whiskey dribbles down her chest, coating each nipple in sweetness. It looks like cresting waves made of whiskey.
God, she looks perfect like this. I throw back the remaining sip of whiskey, capturing the ice cube in my mouth before tossing the glass.
I spread her legs and kneel between them. She’s still leaned back so her chest is perched perfectly in front of my face. I bring my mouth down on her left nipple, sucking and swirling the ice cube against it. She bucks like a wild bull, so I palm her hips.
“Gray,” she moans. “It’s s-so cold.”
I come up for air, dropping the ice cube on her chest. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” she threatens and sighs as the ice cube melts down her chest.
I chuckle, using my tongue to move the cube around her nipple, loving the sounds it draws from her. I move to her right, letting the cube melt over her warm nipple before lapping it up along with the whiskey I poured.
“Fucking delicious,” I groan, my throat raw with hunger.
“Oh God, that feels so good!” Maisie is full on panting now. She’s abandoned keeping her hands on the armrests, instead dragging her nails down my back, letting out little mewls of pleasure. I love how lost she gets in her pleasure. I want her shamelessly screaming for me.
I suck her nipple back into my mouth, nipping at it and drawing another deep moan from her. I can’t imagine the noises she would make with my cock stuffed inside her. The thought has my dick straining painfully against my jeans.
I leave little bites all over her chest, making sure to lick up every drop of whiskey until she's a sea of red love bites all over. She looks good with my marks on her, and I have the urge to leave them in other places. Places more intimate. She’s going to be mad at me when she finds them, but I love knowing others will see she’s mine.
Maisie spurs me on with her heels at my back. God, this woman feels so good tucked under me. I want to taste every single inch of her, teach her every way her body can feel pleasure…every place it can.
Maisie is uncharted territory I want to familiarize myself with until I know every dip and fissure, every sound she can make, and everything I can do to her to have her coming undone from only me.
But not yet.
“Fuck, we need to stop,” I say, planting kisses down her stomach.
“Why?” she whines, playing with the waist of my jeans.
I stare into her beautiful two-toned eyes. “Because if I don’t walk away now, I won’t be able to stop until I’m bending you over the back of this chair and fucking you into next week.”
“Oh,” she chokes, that pretty innocent blush back on her adorable cheeks. She looks lust drunk, and I want to keep that feeling on her face, but I need to stop. I can’t let this get too far the first night she’s under my roof. I need to show a little control—for now.
“I want to take my time with you, worship your body the way it deserves, not some quick fuck against a chair.” My hand finds the base of her throat, and I squeeze just a fraction so I have her attention. Her big, beautiful eyes roll back with lust. Interesting.
“When I have you,” I lean forward, licking the last drop of whiskey from her lips, “you won’t be leaving my bed until you can’t walk without the reminder of every single way I made you come.” I kiss her feverishly. “My fingers.” Kiss. “My tongue.” Kiss. “My cock.”
She chases my lips when I pull away, nipping at them. “Pretty promises,” she teases, a playful smirk on her face.
I slide her dress straps back on, righting her dress and leaving her breasts bare. “Remember this when I have you begging for me to stop making you come.” I step back, looking over her flushed body, prideful I made her that way, and then wink. “I think I got every last drop, honey. Dare complete.”
Maisie saunters out of the chair, swinging her bra around with a devilish smirk.
She owns what just happened, strutting right up to me.
I love that she’s not hiding from me. She walks past me and slaps me on the ass.
“Pleasure doing business with you, cowboy,” she calls over her shoulder, disappearing into her room.
I chuckle, my eyes glued to her door, hoping it might magically open. This is going to be a long two months. She’s lived under my roof for approximately five minutes, and I already broke all my rules.
It seems when Maisie’s involved, there’s not a single rule that could keep me from her, consequences be damned.