“Okay then.” He bites his lip and back-strokes, eyes laughing at me.
I roll my eyes again and stand up to take off my jeans, then my underwear. I blush under his intent gaze as I drop my bra onto my little pile of clothes. I stand at the edge, staring.
“Come on.” He swims over to me and holds up his hands. “I’ll catch you.”
“No, you won’t,” I say.
“Yes, I will. Now, jump in.” He curls his fingers encouragingly.
“What if I drown?” I ask, scared.
His face turns serious. “I’ll never let that happen.”
I look into his eyes and nod; I believe him, of course I do.
Taking a deep breath, I stall a few seconds before jumping in. I hear myself scream a split second before water fills my ears. I sink further and further, then I’m brought to the surface. I take a deep breath and cough a little, frantically wrapping my arms around Grey’s neck. He laughs softly and rubs his nose against mine, holding me with one hand while he swims us over to the shallow end with the other. Kicking and rubbing, we reach the part where I can stand, but I don’t let go.
“Don’t let go,” I plead in a small voice. Breathing in his scent, I gently twirl a piece of his hair.
He shakes his head and leans his head against mine. “Never.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Marco!” Grey’s voice ricochets off the large windows that lets a huge beam of moonlight in the room. He sloshes around in the pool, arms outstretched and a smile taking up his handsome face. I watch in awe as he comes toward me, the light hitting him in just the right angle. Shadows dance over his cupid’s bow. His hair is slicked back, his muscles gleaming and tattoos dancing vividly in the crystal blue water.
“You’re supposed to say ‘Polo’ back, you cheater!” he shouts, nose scrunching up in frustration. He hits the water, and I make the mistake of giggling. He stiffens and turns right to me. Oh no, he found me! I gasp and laugh wildly as he comes for me. “I got you now, princess!”
“Wait, no!” I back up until I hit the tile wall behind me.
“Got you.” He leaps forward, slinging his arms around me like a vine and pressing me into his chest before I can step away. He’s warm, so warm, and smells heavily of cigarettes and Old Spice shampoo.
“No!” I scream at the top of my lungs as he lifts me over his shoulder. He playfully bites into my thigh, hand gripping my bare butt.
The first time. Every time, everything, with this man is like the first time. I can remember first seeing him: looking all bad, clad in black, his smile haunting and terrifying. Who would have known I would fall in love with that devilish smile? I can still feel his lips on mine for the first time: sweet, electrifying, and warm. His hands held me like I was the most precious painting in the world, like I was priceless. And he still holds me the same way, still kisses me with that fire.
“What are you thinking about there, princess?” he asks, squatting and pressing me into the wall. I blush even harder and look away; my heart is going crazy. Why am I acting so nervous, so shy? Is it because of where we are? What we did…here?
“Nothing,” I lie and finally look into his eyes. Black. Warm. Staring at my lips. I look at his and imagine I am tracing the strong indent of his cupid’s bow. Tracing the scar above his eyebrow.
“Liar.” He cracks a toothy smile, and I stare at his canine teeth. He raises a hand and cups my wild hair behind my ears. Little beady eyes stare at me, and I stare right back. “What?”
“Your bird.” I expel a long sigh, tapping its puffy chest. I didn’t notice before, but there is a unique pattern run along its outstretched wings. Ready for takeoff to be beautiful.
“Yes.” He nods, his smile mocking.
I push at his chest, and he hums and cages me. Coming closer. Blushing, I trace its beak, and he inhales deeply. “I like him. He’s one of my favorites, did you know that?” I shift my eyes to Grey’s, finding him already staring at me. More blushing. “Why are you staring at me?”
His mouth slants dangerously. “Because you’re beautiful.”
“So are…you?” I say like a fool.
He laughs, and I groan.
“Stop it. You know I suck at accepting compliments.” I cover my face with my hands, slightly embarrassed. He pulls my hands away, smiling like I just told him he won a lifetime supply of leather jackets.
“I know. It’s one of the reasons I love you,” he says, tipping my chin back. “You’re humble and shy and not like the bitches I’ve fucked with before.”
“Why, thank you.” I roll my eyes at the mention of his previous…lovers. I feel sick even thinking about them. Thinking about him with other girls before me. I sound like one of those girls, those girls who are jealous for no reason other than to be jealous, but I just don’t like the idea. He is mine, my Grey, my middle ground. They were little flings. I guess that’s where the big difference is: I have him; his body, mind, soul, and love. They only had his dick. But even I have that now, all mine.
I smile at my own petty thoughts.
His smile twitches at my random one, but he continues. “But it’s a good thing. A fucking fantastic one, actually. Because, baby, you are a one in a million. My one in a million.”
My heart bursts into happy tears.
“I think I’m going to cry,” I admit.
He laughs lightly, eyes bubbling with too many emotions for me to decipher. “Don’t do that. Please. I hate it when you cry. Even if it’s because I’m too amazing for you to handle.”
“Shut up.” I pound my small fists against his chest.
He shakes his head, eyes flickering to my lips. “I’d rather kiss you,” he says. I can feel his…member press against my stomach. Large and excited. And honestly, so am I. Excited, not large.
“Then do it,” I urge with a smile. I tuck my finger under his chin and pull him the rest of the way. Our lips meet, and it is the best thing to date. Warm, soft, inviting, and brushing. Then it’s teasing and little pecks, open mouths, then hugging. He’s lifting me up, and I’m wrapping my arms around his neck.
We’re walking out of the pool, and I’m entangling my fingers in his wet, curly, black hair. He’s biting my lips, and I’m dragging my fingers across his strong back muscles. My back hits a very soft, familiar surface, and I smile. I feel more than warm, and then I hear the crackling flicker and see the orange shadow moving like the ocean on the ceiling.
“The place where we first had sex,” I say in a low voice, accommodating the precious bubble we seem to be in. The air feels sacred, like if I speak too loudly or move the wrong way, I may ruin the picture-perfect moment.
“Made love,” he corrects me with an annoying smile.
I roll my eyes. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.” His face turns serious. “A year ago from today, I had the pleasure of deflowering mi pequeña princesa.” I chuckle, and he does too. But then he sighs and runs a hand up my thigh; my breathing hitches. “We didn’t just fuck or have sex…we connected with each other on the highest form there is. We became one, and—and I fell even deeper and more madly in love with you. It’s when I knew you were my other half. My light.”
I am at a loss for words. So many thoughts and emotions are running rampant within me, but overall, I feel love. Deep, unbelievable love that can’t even be measured. It isn’t defined in the dictionary. I can only understand it with his eyes. With his kiss. Lips pressed against mine, and the way he looks at me.
“I feel the same way,” I say and reach up to cup his face. “Grey, you have turned my life completely upside down. I never knew what it was like to feel this way about someone. To want to see them do above and beyond, to what to kiss them to death, to be by their side just because you’re afraid you’d miss them too much otherwise. We don’t even need to have sex for me to feel you, to be connected to you. You are quite literally it for me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Look at us,” he says, doing a little shoulder
dance. I laugh. “Being all sappy and shit.”
“It is our one-year anniversary.”
“No, it isn’t.”
I shrug. “Basically is.”
“No way,” he says, then pauses. “Actually, it’s two days from now.”
“Oh, shut up and kiss me already.”
His eyes glint with mischief and lust. “Gladly.”
Leaning down, our lips touch and my muscles loosen, mind clearing. Everything is just easy with him, that is when there aren’t any obstacles between us. Breathing. Laughing. Feeling. A world without Grey is a world without clarity. He is my clarity, my remedy, and my middle ground.
“Oh, Grey,” I moan as he slowly enters me. All at once, I can feel every inch of him, and it’s mind-blowing and all-consuming. I clutch my nails in his back, holding onto the words inked there, a promise to love me forever and always. I latch onto it like it’s my anchor grounding me, keeping me stable.
His movements are slow, deep, and filling. This is making love in its purest form. It feels oh so exhilarating and makes my heart beat a thousand times quicker; I’m sure he can hear it. The fire crackles and sparks next to us, but it is nowhere as fiery and jumpy as I feel as he presses into me, claiming me with each wonderful, hard stroke.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you too,” I reply in a small voice. Panting. Licking my lips. I whine, and he swallows it with his mouth covering mine. I latch my arms around his neck, pulling him down and on top of me. He doesn’t crush me, though. He strokes my stomach, then my breast with one hand, while the other plays with my hair as he leans on his elbow.
His pace is like torture, but the good kind. The kind that stings and makes you cry out but keeps you coming back for more for the euphoric feeling that fills you from the soles of your feet to your too-big heart and beyond.
I claw my nails at his back, dragging them up and down. He winces but kisses me deeply, open-mouthed and passionately. The kiss is messy and needy, but it is slow-paced and meant to search for more. And I’ve found it. I’ve found him and my heart between his warm lips.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Always so perfect for me.” He groans, slowly picking up speed, widening and moving his hips in a way that steals my breath away. I gasp at the overwhelming pleasure and instantly move to match his rhythm. His eyes widen, and he bites his lip, making this deep sound from the bottom of his stomach.
“This feels so good, Grey. Please. More,” I beg blindly, licking my lips. I bite hard, briefly closing my eyes and staring at the stars awaiting me. When I open my mouth, he is staring at me. I blush and smile, shyly avoiding his eyes. He laughs and leans down, kissing me again. Softly. My heart’s doing the tango.
“So perfect.” He pulls his lips away but quickly places them on my neck. I glide my fingers across the words on his back, feeling them enter my soul and brand themselves on my being. They will always mean the world to me. Even more. The whole entire freaking universe.
He sucks and licks and bites, teasing and marking.
I kiss the shell of his ear. Glide my foot up his foot. Rest both feet on his back, tilting my hips up.
“Oh fuck, baby. Just like that.” He grips my thigh, and I gasp as he pushes himself into me, diving deeper and deeper until he’s hit a certain spot that makes my heart feel way too big for my chest. Like it’s going to jump out and start running around an imaginary racetrack.
“Love you, love you,” I whisper repeatedly, grinding into him. I bite into his shoulder as I feel my stomach tighten, my breathing becoming harder to maintain.
“Come for me, princess. Please. Come,” he urges, staring directly into my eyes, his forehead pressed against mine.
I nod and let out a cry and moan his name, “Oh, Grey. Please. O-oh!” I bite my lip and close my eyes, unable to control the scream that leaves my mouth. I reach my ultimate high and shiver, wrapping my arms around him, latching, grounding myself. I feel my soul leave my body, then come crashing back down.
“Fuck, fuck, yes. Baby. I’m—yes,” he grunts and stiffens in me, then becomes heavy.
His breath is hot and spotty, his hand clutching my thigh, gripping harder. There’s going to be a bruise tomorrow, I can feel it. But I’ll gladly sport it down a runway to show off that I have the love of my life to do this to me.
He doesn’t move for one, two, three seconds as he tries to catch his breath. Then he eases out of me and lays beside me. He takes my right leg and possessively pulls it over his, pulling me to lay on his body. I laugh as he rubs his hand up and down my lower back.
“I’m—” I begin.
Suddenly, my vision is black, a soft fabric rubbing against my shoulder. It’s the blanket that we first used when we were last here. I giggle, blushing as he wiggles his eyebrows, tipping my head back to look him in the eyes.
“I think I know you kind of well, don’t you think?” he teases, canine teeth shining.
I roll my eyes at his cockiness but sigh and press my cheek to his tatted chest. “I guess you do.” He pinches my butt, and I gasp in pain and slap his chest. “Hey! That hurt,” I mewl, pouting against his hot, golden skin. When I look into his eyes again, he looks truly sorry, and I smile even more because he cares even when he knows I’m joking. I love this man.
“I’m sorry, princess.” He rubs my shoulder, and my skin feels extremely tingly. My stomach is in knots.
“It’s okay…I guess.” I shrug, tracing a skull on his right pec. I kiss it, and we fall into a comfortable silence. His chest is rising slowly, deeply. He’s falling asleep and, to be honest, I am too. I know the most peaceful sleep is awaiting me, but I have to tell him something first.
“Hey, Grey?” I suppress a yawn.
“Hmmm?” he hums, eyes pinched close.
“I love you.”
He smirks and laughs a little. “I love you too, princess.”
“Do you?” I can’t stop the next yawn.
“Mm-hmmm.” He nods. He’s slipping away now.
“Hey, Grey?”
“Yeah?” he mumbles.
I pause, smile, and whisper, “You still make my heart hurt. Forever and…” Yawn. “Always…” and then sleep takes over and I am met with moonlit eyes, crackling hearts, and floating skulls.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I wake up to flames coating my body. I look around, eyes glazed over, remaining dazed in general. Sleep clings around my parted mouth, crowds my eyes, and tugs on my heavy bones. My eyes fall onto the heart-stopping face of Grey Wyler, the definition of beautiful. Sharp bones angled just right, velvety curtains for eyelashes, thick lips, sleep lines carved into his cheeks. I admire his slightly crooked nose and canine teeth as he snarls in his sleep, ever the angry man he is.
I am about to kiss him awake when my phone rings. I screw up my face in confusion as to who would be calling me. It’s most likely one of my friends. I left the dinner in such dismay and without little explanation.
They tried coaxing me out of the room and assured me I could talk to them. All of them. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak to any one of them. But I appreciated and loved that they would all try to help me through it. Collectively. They all mean so much to me, each and every single one of them. I would be nothing without them.
I make a note to text each of them, to explain what happened after I answer this phone call.
I hesitate as I stare at the screen. My father is calling me. I stare at the photo I have set for his contacts. It’s of him holding me when I was a little girl. Dressed in my famous pink sparkle dress and him sporting a mustache he thought was cool. I always thought it was a caterpillar to keep his upper lip warm. I named it Freddie…the name of a boy I had a crush on.
But as I look at my mother scrambling to pick up a toddling Jonah in the back, hearts for eyes, I feel anger course through me. What he has done, did, plagues my mind until I am consumed with the fiery desire to reach into the picture and yank Freddie off his face. Watch him moan in pain.
/> Grey makes an annoyed grumbling sound and shifts. I decline the call and take deep breaths to keep myself calm. He doesn’t get to explain anything to me.
Remembering what I promised myself, I briefly explain what happened yesterday to my friends and send it to them. My phone blows up with concerned texts from all of them, and I smile, chest heavy with love. I text back and forth with them, putting them in a group chat. We laugh and joke, and I feel a lot better. I could not have asked for better friends.
I am enjoying myself until my father calls me again.
“Ugh,” I grunt and decline. He’s ruined my mood. I quickly tell them I’ll chat later, then set my phone down after turning it off. I guess it’s time to make breakfast. I could definitely use spare time to clear my mind from the gunk my father made.
Before getting up, I look over at Grey again and sigh longingly. He is peacefully knocked out, dead to this world, but electrifying in mine. Memories of last night flood my mind and leaves me smiling into my palms, blushing. Before I can get too wrapped up in the snapshots from last night, I push myself to stand and enter the bathroom.
After showering and getting dressed in undergarments and shorts I left in one of the rooms I claimed when my family and I visited the cabin and Grey’s shirt from last night, I stroll into the kitchen. Wait…I need ingredients before I cook; there’s nothing in the fridge. I sigh and contemplate leaving a note for Grey but decide against it and head to the closest grocery store; I’ll be quick.
And I am. I’m back at the house with a variety of foods within half an hour. I decide to make some French toast, eggs, and bacon. I put on a Bach piece. I am so enthralled with preparing the food that I almost don’t notice that Grey’s staring at me. He makes it known as he knocks on one of the walls.
“What a sight to wake up to.” He tips his chin at me, in gesture of my little clothing and messy bun. I smile around the spoonful of Nutella as I turn off the stove, and he winks before strutting over to me. He’s so relaxed and confident in his own skin as he walks into the lavish kitchen.
Grey: Everlasting (Spectrum Series Book 6) Page 17
