Chapter 15
“Holy shit.” Grant's hand pounds down on the leather armrest. We both gasp for air while covered in a sheen of sweat. A salty droplet rolls down his chest, then patters onto my naked breast while he suspends his weight above me.
“How was that?” A satisfied, proud gleam glistens in his eyes as he looks at me.
We both chuckle, and I turn my head away, an evident ache already forming in my clit. “Shut up.” Safe to say I’ve had the best sex ever. I predict collapsing when I try to walk, and I’m perfectly okay with that.
I rest my fingers on his stomach and grin when his muscles tighten in response. “So? Satisfied yet?” I shake my head in disbelief. “Five times. You know, you're an animal.”
“Me? What about you?” His body heat flits away when he sits up on the edge of the sofa—ebony hair falls in disheveled waves after he rakes his hand through the top. “Three rounds were good, but you got me going again.” He pats my thigh. “I think you're the animal. Insatiable like I thought.”
“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”
Cut muscles ripple across his shoulder blades while he stretches. “I’m sure I can draw out more.”
“Does that mean you’re notsatisfied yet?”
He looms over me once he stands. “That’s not the word I’d use, but we can pause long enough to get out of here.” One side of his mouth hitches up in the way that drives me crazy, and he turns for the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”
“All right.”
My weighted eyes almost close, but I force them open a moment longer, enjoying my view.
His perfectly defined ass, with those two cheeks, round and firm, twitch with each step he takes as he crosses the room in powerful strides. I watch until he vanishes from sight, then my eyes give way to heavy relaxation.
Good sleep is a safe prediction for tonight.
The usual tightness in my shoulders and threats of insomnia have all melted away after being under Brexton for the last two hours. A pulsing tingle in my thighs warns me I’ll be sore tomorrow and walking will be a chore, but who cares. Totally worth it.
My body and soul sink lax into the sofa, going numb in the best way possible. Tormenting thoughts of the last month shut off completely and hints of sleep sweep over faster than ever. There's nothing except peace—something I haven't experienced to full capacity in years. I let it take me under and lay there in silence.
“You're more beautiful sweat-soaked.”
Slumber flees at the voice of Grant. My eyes flutter open.
Standing over me is a vision of perfection with a white towel draping over his rounded shoulders. Beautiful. Like a raven-haired re-imagining of Michelangelo’s David.He’s designed with roped muscles so taut I think they are carved of stone. There's no better sight, but a sickness rolls in my stomach when I realize I can't supply the same.
Not with the scar across my stomach combined with the few others I'm sure he's noted.
I twist in self-consciousness of what I must look like—a scarred-up and sweaty mess. Sitting up quickly, I cover myself, eyeing my undergarments. Once the clothes are back on, this feeling will leave.
My arm shoots out as I curl up, pressing my breasts to my upper thighs. The position hides my body while I strain to reach my bra. The creamy lace is between Grant’s legs, who’s making no attempt to move.
My hand fails to reach, and I try again.
His hand wraps around my elbow, and he pulls me to a stand. “Olivia.” Fingers sweep tousled hair behind my ears, and soft knuckles soothe over one side of my face.
Although I want to look away, I can’t. He forces our eyes to connect, and warmth shoots from my heart, spreading quickly into my limbs.
“Never hide from me.”
I pull away, wrapping my arms around my waist. “I only need to get dressed.”
“Why?” The gap I created closes as he draws near. His naked skin and ripples brush against me, reminding me of how forbiddingly delicious he is. “You're beautiful, and I want to see you.”
“Grant, really, I appreciate the compliments and your reassurance.” Lightly, I skim my fingers up his chest.
“But?”
My shoulders deflate when I think of him never telling me to hide—words that sound easy to utter yet impossible to make true.
Something that is close to bitter disappointment pinches inside my chest. “Things are … not that simplistic.”
I attempt a half step back, but don’t even make it that far. He captures my hand in his, then knits our frames together.
“I’m not promising simplistic things, my sweet. I doubt anything about us is going to be a downstream journey—quite the opposite.” Electricity surfs up my neck, stopping to pulsate behind my earlobe as his lips brush the tender spot. I press farther into him, desperate for the feeling to devour me whole. “All I’m promising is that I’m different. You don’t have to conceal yourself from me, Liv, because I already see you.”
He garners whisper-soft kisses from my heart. I pepper them along his collarbone, sinking into the rumbles of his sighs and the tensing of his muscles. The feel of him is addicting, the new rhythm that pulse finds when I’m fitted to his body is enslaving, and the promises he makes of understanding me are a one hit line straight to my veins. Grant makes me feel like new tomorrows can occur, and that he’s going to be the one to make it happen.
Now the question is … do I like someone understanding me so quickly?
Said wondering is cut short as his hands make full contact with my back, and those long fingers splay across my skin, causing me to arch from the sparks firing beneath his touch. “Don’t hide from me.”
This time, a hard thump racks my rib cage. I squeeze him tighter and press my ear to his chest. God help me, I’m unable to remember the last time I heard the heartbeat of another man. Each tendon in my body unravels to the sound, and I slump against him.
“Now,” he says after a long beat of silence, “you may get dressed so I can take you home with me.” He releases me, nodding my way.
“Your home?” My brows shoot up while gathering my clothes.
“Is that a problem, Miss Tucker?” He swaggers back, resting his hands on the deep V of his naked hips. “You didn't think we were done, did you?”
“Well, no.” I throw my cami on and step into my underwear. Despite his words, I'm thankful for some coverage. “I just thought that after tonight…” Words die on my lips when I catch the smirk on his face.
“Tonight is Friday.” His voice dips low, and he steps up close. He ducks his head, trailing pecks on my jaw, lips, and ears. “It's the weekend, Miss Tucker, and I have special assignments for you until Monday. For these assignments, I need you in my home.”
An exhilarated rush travels through my body, and I walk toward him until my spine is bowed against him and his hands are gliding down my back. I can’t stay away from him. “Which part of your home, sir?” I purr. Deep satisfaction takes hold when my fingers run the course of his torso, and he tenses in pleasure.
“The bed will be optimal.” He stops to groan when I hitch my leg around his calf and rub myself on his naked skin. “However,” he says, gripping around my hips, “there'll be several designated spots. My couch, shower, and dining table are a few.”
“Sounds like a full weekend, sir.”
“Oooh,” he rumbles. “It will be.” Tender lips gift me one more kiss, and then he pulls away. “Now, let's finish getting dressed so we can get out of here.”
“Yes, sir.”