by Mia Ford
Grant glances at me, perhaps to see my reaction, In response, I tighten my fingers around his, and a smile blooms across my face. Who cares about everything we didn’t know? We’re learning about those things now. We’re both here, trying our best, no matter where this is going to end up.
That’s what’s important.
As the bike nears my apartment, I feel sad. I don’t want this date to end just yet. It’s been absolutely wonderful. How long has it been since I’ve had Grant like this? I’m terrified of letting go of this moment and losing the contentment that is settling in my stomach.
So, when Grant parks the bike, I steel my courage.
“Would you like to come up for coffee?” I ask.
Grant looks up at me. Coffee can mean many different things. But I’m not really inviting him up for sex. I wouldn’t say no, of course. I just don’t want the night to end just yet, even if we spend the next few hours watching crappy television on my couch with warm mugs of coffee to keep us awake.
Grant’s eyes search my face, and maybe he sees this. Because a smile spreads across his face.
“Sounds good,” he says. “Let me just lock up.”
I give him back his helmet. His fingers touch mine and linger for a moment. His eyes meet my gaze, and there’s something hot and heavy in his expression that makes a ball of fire burn in the pit of my stomach.
Coffee, I remind myself. I’m not going to throw myself at Grant, not this time. We’ve just had a wonderful date, and I’m not going to ruin it.
But, is it just my imagination that Grant seems to walk a little closer, with heat emanating from his body? I can hear the rustle of his jacket as he walks beside me, and his arm brushes against mine as we head to my apartment. It makes me so flustered that I drop my keys as I get them out of my bag.
I step inside, hearing Grant come in after me. I open my mouth as the door closes, intending on asking Grant to sit on the couch while I make the hot drinks.
Then arms wind around me, spinning me so fast that I feel dizzy, and my back meets my front door as Grant’s lips find mine.
The first thing that occurs to me is that Grant has initiated this. Not once, since we reunited, has Grant touched or kissed me first. It’s always been me first, while he has just responded each time with enthusiasm. Now he’s crowding in close to me, his tongue wiggling inside my mouth to tangle with mine, pulling heated groans out of me as his hand slips underneath my jacket and shirt to splay across my stomach. His leg is pushing itself between both of mine and my head is spinning both from the suddenness of all of this and the way he’s making me feel.
Forget coffee. I’m far happier with this.
I want to ask him if he’s sure, though. We don’t have to have sex. This is our first date, the first time that we’ve been out like this in three years, because I definitely don’t count all our encounters up until now. It’s our clean slate. Will having sex ruin this?
But, on the other hand, I don’t want to voice the question. What if he stops? God, I can’t bear the idea of him stopping right now. His touch is leaving fiery trails all over my skin, and it’s making it hard to think of anything other than begging him to keep doing it.
“Fuck,” Grant says harshly, pulling away just enough that I can feel his breath on my tingling lips. “Fuck, Jessica. Do you know how much I’ve wanted you this entire time? It was torture sitting so close to you in the theater, knowing that you were right there, knowing that I couldn’t do anything other than hold your hand while so many people were there.”
He’s wanted this since we were at the theater? The question dies in my mind. I don’t need to ask it. He’s already given me the answer. He wants me. He’s starting this. I’m still desirable to him, even after finding out just how badly we failed each other three years ago.
“Learning all those things about you… I want to know more,” Grant pants, nuzzling my neck, nipping and licking my skin. I groan at the wave of pleasure that rolls through me. “I want to touch your body more and find out what else I missed. What else don’t I know about you?”
I think Grant already knows everything there is to know about my body at this point. But I’m not going to say that, because then he might stop touching me and I definitely don’t want that. I want to keep feeling him. I want to drag him so close that we won’t know where I end and he begins. The very thought makes my head drop back as it spins dizzily.
“Don’t stop,” I beg him.
He clutches me close to him and I raise my head to lap at his collar bone, biting down hard on the skin, determined to leave a mark. I suck on the abused skin, and when I pull away, the skin is red and shining. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise that he will see tomorrow.
That’s a pleasing thought. I don’t know how either of us are going to react tomorrow, but it’s nice to know that some physical evidence of our activities has been left for us, that neither of us will forget what’s happening between us.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Grant mutters, tugging at my jacket.
“So are you,” I rasp.
I allow him to pull my jacket off and then I push his down off his shoulders, letting it fall in a heavy heap on the floor. Then I start on the buttons of his shirt while he pushes the hem of my blouse up so his fingers can play over the soft skin of my stomach. When the buttons are free, the shirt joins the jacket on the floor, and I have only a brief moment to run my hands over his muscular chest before Grant is pulling my shirt up over my head and tossing it away. Then his arms wind around me, pulling me off the door in order to unclasp my bra. Impatiently, I shrug the annoying piece of clothing off and my bare back hits the door once more.
“I want to touch you so fucking bad,” Grant says, breathing heavily.
I wind my arms around his shoulders and pull him closer, our naked chests touching.
“Then touch me,” I breathe.
His hands are on me, fleeting touches on my hips before one hand reaches up to my left breast, kneading the soft skin and then pinching the nipple into full hardness as my back arches against the door at the sensation.
“Shit,” I hiss.
His other hand wanders lower, dipping under the hem of my jeans before popping the button open and undoing the zipper. He pushes the pants down over my hips along with my panties, and both items fall to the floor so I can step out of them and kick them away.
Blindly, I reach out to find his pants. I don’t know how I manage to undo them while he’s touching me like this, because I can’t even think straight, and I know he knows it from the grin on his face while my fingers tremble on his skin. But then his pants and then his boxers are falling, and his naked body presses against mine, his rock hard erection already leaking.
I would have him right here. But I don’t want to have sex against my front door. It’s already going to be difficult enough to look at it and not remember what has happened here tonight. So I pull away.
“Bedroom,” I groan. “We need to go to the bedroom.”
Grant shudders. And then he steps back, pulling me off the door.
“Yeah,” he says. “A bed sounds good.” He takes another step back. “Tell me what you want me to do to you in that bed.”
Oh god, I’m never going to be able to sleep again without remembering this night, am I? I groan at the idea.
“I want you to fuck me,” I moan.
“I’m going to fuck you hard,” he promises.
We’re going to have to talk about this in the morning. Our date, having sex, where we want to do from here. But, as we stumble toward the bedroom, I decide that none of that matters right now. All I want is Grant’s touch.
We can worry about the rest of it later.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Grant
Maybe we shouldn’t be jumping in so fast. Jessica and I both know that, and I know she really meant coffee when she invited me up.
But I also wasn’t lying about how long I’ve wanted to touch her. Feeling her
hand in mine was good, and it gave me a pleasant warmth that was quickly tickled into a flame with how close she was sitting next to me in the theater. Her leg was pressed against mine, her shoulder brushing mine every time she reached for her drink or for a handful of popcorn. I barely remember the movie at all, because I was completely focused on her and her body.
I wasn’t going to do anything about it. This was a date to get to know each other. The smart thing would have been to drop her off and then head home so I can process everything I’ve learned tonight. But then she invited me up to her apartment, and I wasn’t been able to resist following up, maybe hoping to learn more about her.
Then I saw the way she stretched as she walked away and the sway of her hips. I saw her open her mouth, and then I couldn’t help put turn her around and push her up against the door, because I needed to touch her so badly that it hurt.
We stumble toward the bedroom. Her naked skin is hot against mine and we’re both slick with sweat. Tomorrow, we’re both going to have to find where we’ve thrown our clothes, but I couldn’t care less about that right now. My entire world has narrowed to her and the touch of her skin.
I’m not oblivious to the fact that I started this. Is this how Jessica felt all those other times, overwhelmed with needing me until she couldn’t help but touch? I haven’t blamed her for any of those times, because I was a willing participant each time, and I could have stopped it before it went any further if I really wanted to. But she’s a drug that I just can’t stop wanting, no matter how mad at her I am.
She’s addictive. She’s going to destroy me with pleasure, I’m going to happily walk to that doom.
“Shit,” I groan as Jessica bites at my collar again.
I’m going to have so many marks tomorrow. The idea sends pleasure shooting right down to my groin, and I push her against her closed bedroom door, half surprised we made it without falling due to our drunken stumbling. Hilariously, neither of us have had a drop of alcohol all night; we’re drunk on the feel of each other’s skin.
Jessica’s hands fly over my skin. It feels like she’s trying to touch everywhere at once. Her harsh panting breaths are in my ear, the hot air from her mouth blowing over my skin and giving me goosebumps as I shudder at the feeling, every hair on my arms standing on end. One hand creeps upward, playing with the loose hairs at the nape of my neck.
Then she tugs my ponytail free, allowing my dark hair to fall around my face. Dimly, I realize that my hair is almost the same length as hers, something I might find funny later if I remember the thought.
“I can’t stop touching you,” I say, pressing my body along the length of hers. “I want you so badly. I want to take everything you’ll give me and feel every part of your body.”
“I want you in me,” she whispers huskily, lifting her head to nip at my earlobe, wriggling her body on mine. Her breath is hot and heavy in my ear. “I want to feel your entire length sliding into me, and I want you to feel my body tight around yours as you fuck me hard.”
I swallow, the heat so strong that it’s hard to breathe. My forehead meets the door and I pant for a moment, trying to regain some control over myself. There’s a tight feeling in my stomach, and I need to pause before I come just from the promise in her words alone.
When it doesn’t feel like I’m going to release just from taking a step, I breathe out harshly and kiss Jessica fiercely, sucking her tongue in my mouth. When I pull back, her lips are red and glistening with saliva.
“I’m going to fuck you hard enough that you’ll feel it all week,” I promise.
She moans, her eyes fluttering as they roll back, tipping her head back. I wrap an arm around her and reach for the door knob, fumbling around until I find it and twist it open. The door swings inward and, despite my steadying arm, Jessica still stumbles back slightly, not expecting the sudden change while she’s still processing my words. She laughs, grinning wildly at me. I can’t help but grin back.
This is what we were looking for tonight. The connect between us that reminds of us of why we came together in the first place and why we stayed together as long as we did. We might not have told each other much about ourselves, but we had truly loved each other and wanted to be together. It was only my secret and Jessica’s hardheadedness that caused our downfall.
Is this better or worse? I’m not sure yet. I like how open we’re being with each other. I like that I can touch Jessica and not have to wonder at the stranger I sometimes see in her face. And I like that we’re completely connected, if only because our son draws us back to each other again and again.
Except, it’s more than that. Hazily, I know that I need Jessica. She’s an addiction that part of me doesn’t want to walk away from. I want to feel like this forever.
Maybe this relationship between us can work out. I don’t know yet if I’m just being cautiously optimistic, but it’s been a good night, and those wonderful feelings have just made touching her and feeling her touch even better.
“Shit, Jessica,” I groan as we stumble back toward the bed as she writhes in my arms, dragging me forward.
I push her down onto the mattress and she scoots backward as I climb up after her, crawling between her legs. I run my hands up each leg as I do, feeling the smoothness of her skin, cupping my hands briefly on her behind before I slowly scrape my fingers up her sides and over her breasts. I place butterfly kisses on her stomach and her legs twitch because I’m so close to where she wants me to be, but I’m deliberately avoiding it.
“Fuck, Grant, touch me,” she moans.
“I am,” I tease.
She manages to collect her thoughts enough to glare at me, unimpressed by the quip. I laugh, amused, and she grins. Then, she captures one of my wandering hands and brings it up to her mouth. Her eyes on mine, she slowly curls her tongue around my pointer finger and then sucks it into her mouth.
All the air feels like it’s been sucked from the room. I didn’t think it was possible for my dick to get any harder, but it does. I stare at her, my hands and body freezing, and it feels like I’m barely breathing as I watch her tongue dance around my finger. I hadn’t even known touch on my finger like that could be so pleasurable.
My entire body shudders and she grins around the finger before sucking another one in. I pant, torn between wanting to rip my hand away from her and wanting her to keep going. My pants are impossibly tight, and, if I don’t stop her soon, I’m going to come before I manage to get inside her.
“Fuck, stop,” I say, my voice ragged. “I’m going to fuck you now.”
I can’t hold back anymore, even if I wanted to tease her a little more. Jessica drops my hand, looking pleased with herself, and I raise myself up to hover over her body. I line my penis up against her and then slide home.
Her legs wrap around my waist, urging me on until I’m fully inside her. Her hands have found my hair, and her fingers are wrapped around the long strands, tugging lightly at all the sensations. She wriggles beneath me almost immediately, her ankle pressing into the small of my back.
“Move,” she orders in a rasp.
I slowly pull out until only the tip remains. I want to tease her some more, but I can’t. I’m too close to the edge. So I slam back into her and set the pace. Her hips jerk upward to meet my thrusts, her hands tightening in my hair as she holds on, trying to anchor herself. The rest of the world fades around us. All I can see and feel is her. Everything I am has narrowed down to the feel of her body as she clenches around me.
I slide in and out. The heat has built into a raging, fiery tornado that spins around us, making me dizzy. I’m not sure I’m breathing right. My penis tightens but I try to hold back, wanting to feel like this for as long as possible. I don’t want to lose this connection we share, not until I absolutely have to. Part of me wishes that I could just stay inside her, to never leave this warm bubble of happiness that surrounds us.
Every other time we’ve had sex, I’ve been so angry, chasing only the pleasure. But now
my heart is singing, so happy to be feeling her, and I can’t get enough of it.
But everything has to end some time. My stomach clenches and I know I’m close. I clutch Jessica’s hips and my thrusts speed up. Her movements are clumsy now and when her body shudders with a sharp cry, I know she’s tumbled over the edge, spinning into the pleasure that’s engulfed us. I thrust several more times as her body clenches impossibly tight around me, chasing my own orgasm, before white covers my vision.
For a long moment, I can only feel the pleasure that steals my breath. When it starts to fade away, my vision returns and I try to catch my breath, my body shaking.
I can’t believe how different this has felt. I swallow heavily and pull out of Jessica, who looks up to grin tiredly at me.
“Bed?” she asks.
I can’t help but laugh.
“Bed,” I agree.
We can talk about all this in the morning. Right now, as we slide under the covers and Jessica snuggles in beside me with a contented sigh, I’m happy just to lay here and remember how good everything is.
Somehow, I know everything will work out eventually.
I wake up, fading nightmares blinking across my vision. It’s dark and I don’t quite know where I am. Then I hear Jessica beside me, and memories of the night before flood me. I remember taking her on the date, learning so many different things about her. Then we returned to her apartment and we had sex, both of us unable to bear another moment without touching each other.
It was a wonderful night. The only regret I have is everything I didn’t know about Jessica. As we dropped off to sleep, I knew that I would like to go on another date with her soon, to explore this growing feeling between us.
So why do I feel like this? My heart is tight in my chest, and I roll away from her, not wanting to look at her. I remember the nightmares from the night before, the same one I had the other day, of Jessica’s accusing face and her threats to remove Owen entirely from my life.
