It wasn’t until freshmen year that I really started hating Greyson. During art class, he sat ahead of me. So when he started carving Winnie the Pooh, I knew right then and there that he was trying to mess with me. Each project that we did, he would make something that related to the past. He got creative. Roses with dramatic thorns stuck with poop. My initials of O and T with evil horns in them.
It wasn’t until that last week of school during our class when he indirectly spoke to me. He said, “Kissing all the frogs won’t make you a princess. It only makes you pathetic.”
I went on two dates that week where I kissed a boy in one and all of a sudden, rumors were spreading that I was giving it up for everyone. I was nicknamed bookworm slut from then on.
For a while, I tried to ignore him and the constant companionship he had with Edith, but when a picture of Edith surfaced, naked with Grey on top of her, that made me loathe them more. It was just like looking at two selfish people, rutting with their need for sex and not caring what others thought of them, that really sealed it for me.
Grey’s taunts never ceased through the years. We bickered constantly, but each and every time, Edith would give me those death stares that held threats about spreading lies about my family.
She had only issued that one vital threat, yet it held me in check.
* * *
It took a good minute to realize that I wasn’t in bed alone. Well, if the warm breath hitting the back of my ear wasn’t indicator enough, Grey’s body caging me in was, making me unable to move without having to lift his heavy arm, which was conveniently located right below my breasts.
“Did you sleep well?” a soft, sleepy, husky voice whispered into my ear, sending goosebumps all over my body.
Oh, God, could a guy sound this sexy first thing in the morning? Well, Grey did. His appeal knew no bounds. It was obscene. “I did…” I smiled, still hiding from him. Morning breath kills and I didn’t plan on killing anyone yet.
He softly groaned behind me. “You feel really good...” His thumb travelled around my belly area before it found a spot where my skin was exposed. Stroking it softly with his left thumb, he sent ripples of pleasure all over me, making me forget about everything other than him; his scent, his voice, his warmth, and his hard delicious body…
“Grey,” I moaned, fighting this intense, deep need to kiss him. I was silently scolding myself for not running into the bathroom quick enough to brush my teeth—or even gargle my bad breath away—and then jump back in bed for a good heavy-petting session.
His lips were softly nipping on my lobe while his breathing became labored. “Can I get you anything for breakfast? I make amazing cereal,” he joked, making me melt some more.
I giggled like an idiot.Damn you, did you have to be so adorable, too?“I love cereal.” This was too good to be true. Was this really happening? I wanted to pinch myself just to make sure that this wasn’t a cruel dream out to taunt me subconsciously.
His arm tugged me closer against his chest. “Olivia, Olivia, Olivia…” he tsk-tsked. “I’m still keeping my promise, but I just want you to know that if it weren’t for that, you’d be right underneath me, legs apart and open. I would be looking into your eyes while I slowly—oh so fucking slowly—making this hot body all mine.”
Holy Bejesus. I gulped some air into my lungs. Too freaking much. I was dying…
His powerful arms rolled me over to where his tiger eyes were on me, intense and wild, as they roved over my face. “I want you… but I also want you to trust me.”
For some reason, I did want to trust him. To believe in him and his words; his promises. “I’d want that, too.”
He took a full minute to study my face before his lips broke into an easy smile. “Meet me downstairs after you freshen up? I want to kiss you, but I have a feeling you’re not going to like that.” His eyes twinkled. “But I’m going to do it anyway just for kicks.” His lips took mine, kissing me softly. “See you in a little bit, Pooh.”
He left with a mischievous grin on his face while I held myself back from begging him to stay in bed and cuddle me like I was the only thing that mattered in his life. That sudden thought surprised me. Since when did I want things from Greyson?
Never. So I’d better not start with this ‘cause I couldn’t afford the consequences. Too much was at stake.
In the meantime, though, I could enjoy and have fun. That way, my senior year would fly by, and before I knew it, it would be time to pack my things and move across the world to follow what I had dreamed of.
Ignoring my phone, I went straight to the bathroom and started getting ready to meet him downstairs. I didn’t want to read any messages from Mom or Liam. I could deal with them later. For now, I was going to focus on the right now, which was brushing my teeth and looking presentable.
I decided on wearing faded jean shorts and a sleeveless, loose, baby-blue shirt. It was comfy and yet still showed a great amount of skin. My hair was tied up with a slim, white ribbon on the back of my nape. It provoked the thought of demure, however my clothes would suggest otherwise.
Barefoot, I stealthily made my way downstairs, feeling shy and exhilarated to see him again. It was odd how we had slept the entire night together, and yet, he didn’t cop a feel. I’d know because, well, I was in and out of sleep, thinking that he might just be tempted because it was Greyson Edwards sleeping with me in bed. I mean, everyone knew that this man kept you awake, drunk off his charms and even more charming bedroom skills.
We shared a bowl of cereal that was a mixture of Cheerios and Lucky Charms. He spoon-fed me like a little kid. He even went as far as doing that dumb airplane feeding thing.
“If you’re going to keep this up, I’m just going to get my own bowl,” I threatened, pouting.
“Aww, here you go, baby girl.” His eyes were trained on me, trying to hold back a laugh as he fed me again.
Opening my mouth, I felt a drizzle of milk on the side of my lip. Grey leaned close, sticking out his tongue, licking all the milk off before devouring my lips. He tasted sweet just the way I liked it.
In the background, I could hear him setting the bowl aside before bringing me on his lap. “Milk on your lips… Fuck,” he groaned. “I couldn’t help thinking—hoping—that it was mine.”