Out of Focus (Chosen Paths #2)

by L. B. Simmons

  Every cell inside my body flares to life as I bring my hands to frame his face and give him yet another piece of me. Moisture lines my eyes, and I swallow my emotions as best I can before I speak. “I love you, Grady Bennett. I do. I love you.”

  I shake my head, refusing to let my past taint the innocence of this moment. “I want to give you every part of me, share things with you that need to be shared, and I will. But tonight, it’s about us. No one or nothing else. Can you give me that, please?”

  Grady’s stare tightens on my pleading eyes, still threatening unshed tears. He lowers his forehead to mine, pulling my body as close as he can within his arms, then whispers, “I love you too, Cass. All of you. I need you to know that. Understand that. Hear me when I say, I love every single piece of you, broken or not. Can you trust me in that, sweetheart?”

  He loves me.

  Grady Bennett, badass cop, sensational cook, sexy-as-fuck incredible man, LOVES me. What in the hell could I have possibly done to ever deserve that?

  I love every single piece of you, broken or not.

  Is it only possible because I’m learning to love me too?

  My throat wells with unspoken sentiment, and I nod my head, because I do trust him, completely. With my heart. With my past. With my secrets. I know with absolute certainty, as I live and breathe, as I remain held in his arms with his own eyes glistening back at mine, I do.

  Grady grins then lessens his hold to set me on my feet as he repeats the very thing he said to me on our first date.

  “Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  I laugh as he presses his lips firmly against my forehead, linking his finger with mine to lead the way.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  THE RIDE BACK TO Grady’s apartment is one of silence, filled with implicit looks of longing and gentle caresses of our joined hands. Strong fingers remain threaded between mine, woven tightly with the unspoken promise of what awaits us. His thumb casually strokes the soft flesh of my palm, sending a zing of warmth straight to my lower stomach in anticipation. Across the cab of the car, we join passionate stares, our eyes blistering with both want and need. The fire in my belly plummets, sending waves of pulsating heat between my thighs when his tongue darts between the seal of his lips. He redirects his gaze to the road in front of us, then lifts my hand, opening it widely so he can press his open mouth to the center of my palm. Blood warms my cheeks, and I clear my throat before shifting in my seat in attempt to lessen the urgent ache each throb brings.

  Grady releases my hand, but I keep it raised, placing it tenderly against the stubble of his cheek. From the side, my eyes take in his strong profile as he drives, embedding the sight in my mind. The slight curl of his rounded, full lips due to my blatant stare. The way his jaw tightens and how the muscle lining it ticks as he forces himself to keep his eyes on the road. The rise of his chest when I creep over the console separating us to press a soft kiss in the crook of his corded neck. And as his scent fills my lungs, I run my nose along his skin, creating forever memories of this moment. Parting my lips, I drag them upward until they land and seal around the bottom of his earlobe.

  A low growl breaks the silence, and I grin before gripping his ear with my teeth.

  “Sweetheart, at this rate we’re not going to make it to the apartment.”

  My smile extends, delightfully satisfied with the effect I have on him, before I lower my head and ease my body back into my seat. Just as before, his hand reaches for mine, and I willingly comply, joy filling my heart with the knowledge that he longs for my touch as much as I do his. His fingers curl into mine, resuming his firm grip, and I tear my eyes away, redirecting them toward the windshield.

  After what seems like an eternity, we finally make it to his apartment. Grady parks, pulls the keys from the ignition, and twists to face me. He lifts his hand, tracing the pads of his fingers along my forehead and down my cheek. The air grows heavy, coated with hunger and anticipation as he draws his fingers along my lips. My mouth opens slightly, and my tongue grazes his fingers with their pass. As it makes contact, Grady’s nostrils flare, and the pooling heat blossoms into an inferno as I watch his reaction.

  His voice is raspy, gruff, and low as he drops his hand and directs, “Come here.”

  No “please” is necessary this time. My body voluntarily rises and crosses the space between us, propelling me forward until I can go no farther. Our slick mouths meet, opening immediately upon impact. I angle my head, sealing my lips against his, and our tongues graze with each hungry sweep. A moan is pulled from my throat, and Grady swallows it as he continues devouring my mouth, tilting his head in the opposite direction for better access. The kiss becomes frenzied and urgent, deepening until our teeth clash and our tongues wage their own war.

  “God, Grady,” I moan against his lips, “I need you.”

  Grady tears his mouth away from mine, face flushed and eyes wild, feverish with desire. He maintains his stare, lowering his arm and yanking the handle to his door. Only when it’s open do his eyes break from mine. He swiftly removes himself from the car, leaving me alone when he shuts the door behind him. My heavy pants are all I hear as I watch his deliberate steps. He rounds the front and makes his way to my door, whipping it open once he arrives. A muscular hand reaches inside the car, waiting for me to take hold. As soon as I make contact, I’m tugged from my seat and the door is shut. I grin up at him, his obvious hurry making me giggle.

  His face relaxes with my smile and his movements slow as he steps forward. His forearms hit the window behind me, pinning me inside his frame. “As much as I want to be a gentleman tonight, I make no promises.”

  It’s been a month for me, waaaay too long.

  I definitely don’t want a gentleman tonight.

  He wedges his thigh between my knees, opening my stance. Then his warm body closes around me, and he presses his hardened erection into the seam of my jeans. Fiery sensations rush through my body, and my fingers fist the back of his shirt, pulling him close as I grind against his hardened cock. His chest heaves against mine. My lips find his ear and I whisper headily, “I trust you, Grady. I’ll take it however you want to give it to me.”

  Grady’s mouth finds my neck and his hips roll into my center, temporarily relieving the ache, only for it to be replaced with a more heightened, undulating surge of need. I whimper with the feeling just as Grady lifts his head, his eyes landing on mine as he states, “Rock-fucking-hard for a solid month, sweetheart.”

  I release his shirt and lower my hand, curling my fingers and gripping his bulge between our bodies. “Then do something about it,” I challenge.

  His jaw clenches with my brazen hold, and he presses his weight off his arms, his warmth disappearing as he rises. Taking my hand into his, he whirls on his heel, his feet on a mission as he pulls me behind him. I fight the urge to giggle, excitement and giddiness flooding me with his insistent strides.

  As soon as we make it up the steps, I’m whipped upward and cradled against his chest as his steps strengthen. The laughter breaks free as I wrap my arms around his neck, nestling my forehead into his warmth as I inquire, “In a hurry?”

  “To get you inside the apartment, yes.”

  I grin into his shirt. “And after we’re inside?”

  My body is jostled as he works his key into the lock of his door. “Then I’ll no longer be in a hurry, because I plan on taking my sweet fucking time with that body of yours.”

  Another pang strikes right between my legs, and I open my mouth on his skin, nipping him lightly with my teeth, signaling my approval.

  “Jesus Christ, Cass,” he groans, throwing the door open and kicking it closed behind him. His keys hit the floor just as the click of his turned lock sounds. I toe off my shoes and Grady’s body shifts as he does the same. Then, more purposeful strides until I find myself in the familiar darkness of Grady’s bedroom. I’m lowered to my feet, but Grady’s hands remain on my waist, guiding me with each of his forward steps
. The backs of my knees hit the side of his bed, and I willingly lower myself onto its surface.

  “Stay there.” Grady’s tone is insistent.

  My brows hit my hairline with his instruction, and I watch as he crosses the room in three wide strides. He flicks on the light then turns to face me.

  “Eyes on me, sweetheart. I want to see you.”

  I do as I’m told, surprisingly compliant to his demands. Every single time I’ve had sex, since the very beginning, I have always ensured I was the one in complete control. I dictated everything from kissing, to foreplay, to entry, to coming. There was nothing about the act that brought about any sensation of desire for me. It was always about the control.

  But as I lie here, watching Grady’s arm extend over his back to tug his shirt over his head, I want nothing more than to surrender. I’m tired of not feeling, of not experiencing all that sex has to offer. I want him to show me, to teach me, to guide me in how to be physically intimate with someone you care about, in a way that doesn’t end in complete demeaning hatred for myself.

  I trust him to do that and to care for me and treat me with the utmost of respect while he does it.

  So as I lift my arms above my head, submissively crossing them at the wrist, I deliver into his hands the very last piece of me: Complete control over my body.

  Grady’s eyes are molten as they take in my offering. They slide slowly along the length of my body, clear in their understanding of exactly what I’m giving him. His throat works a swallow, then he steps closer and leans his weight onto the bed. My stare holds his as he moves to straddle my waist, his knees pressing down on each side of me. He sits back on his heels, sparing me of his weight, his eyes locked on mine.

  “So goddamn beautiful, Cass, I can hardly breathe.”

  Everything within me wants to weep for the beauty of this moment. A moment that could have been—that should have been—had I not so thoughtlessly given it to someone who didn’t matter. Someone who hadn’t cared.

  Yet, as our stares remain bound, I know this is a new moment, one that can be recreated. Redone. This isn’t about sex. This isn’t about control. This is about the demonstration of love in a physical sense. An action I’ve never known, never had the pleasure of understanding, but as I willingly offer myself to him, I know he can teach me.

  So, in essence, as I openly give myself, I’m also relinquishing my virginity . . .

  Restored for the sole purpose of being taken just so I can experience him.

  I inhale contently when his fingers brush just under the hem of my shirt, blazing as they graze upward along the line of my stomach. His touch lingers just under my bra and is feather-light with its descent. My mouth opens and I lick my lips, breaking away from his stare to watch his hands trace their path downward underneath the cotton of my shirt. As soon as they hit the ridge of my jeans, his hands grip the bottom and my upper body rises as my shirt is tugged over my head. After its removal, I resume my position on the bed, lying back and overlapping my wrists.

  Grady lowers his chest and the warmth of his bare flesh hovers above me, just before his mouth hits the rounded top of my breast. The pads of his fingers dance along my ribs, tracing their way toward my back. The center of my body rises, giving him the access he needs to remove my bra, which he does deftly.

  His mouth works its way downward, lapping a heated trail between my breasts, along my sternum, and down my stomach. After a deep sweep of his tongue into my bellybutton, he lifts his body off mine and shifts lower. My skin blisters with each touch of his parted lips, and when their path lingers slowly along my waistline, my back arches off the bed, greedy for his mouth to relieve the throbbing ache between my legs.

  As soon as it strikes, my moan rips through the air. Fire erupts with the sealing of his mouth over my core, its heat penetrating through the denim.

  “Oh God,” I mutter incoherently.

  All warmth is lost when Grady’s body slides off the bed. His feet hit the floor, and I tilt my neck to watch his fingers work the top of my jeans, first the button then the zipper.

  “Look at me, Cass.”

  I look up, and the stare I receive in return sets my insides ablaze. With his teeth grazing his bottom lip, Grady hooks his fingers into the waistline of my jeans and panties, tugging gently. I press my back against the bed, lifting my lower body to aid in their removal, and moan with the feel of his knuckles as they slide down my legs, gasping as cool air strikes my heated center.

  Grady stands with his waist parting my legs, and I lie on the mattress, completely bared to him. My lips lift into a shy smile, the vulnerability of my naked body on display making my cheeks warm with Grady’s passionate gaze.

  His mouth quirks up on the side forming a crooked grin. Slowly, his head moves back and forth, his expression one of pained reverence. “I wish you could understand how fucking beautiful you are right now. I would give anything for you to be able to see yourself through my eyes.”

  My throat constricts and tears burn as they surface, the sincerity and pleading in his tone hitting me square in the chest. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, opening myself and allowing his words to strike where I need it the most, my heart. Slowly my lids drift open and I raise my hips off the bed, insistence flooding my tone when I demand, “Then show me.”

  I need him like I need my next breath.

  His touch.

  His everything.

  Him.

  Determination flashes through Grady’s eyes with my request, then he shifts his body forward and his knees hit the bed. Slowly, he lowers his hand and curls his fingers around my calf muscle, lifting it to his mouth. His lips are warm as they linger, pressed tenderly against my skin, before he gently hooks my left leg over his bare shoulder. His other arm lowers to grasp the right, kissing it reverently before placing it over his other shoulder.

  Never before have I felt like this, unapologetic and bold—yet so exposed. But with Grady everything is different. There is no shame. No need to hide or be embarrassed. No need to rush and achieve the quick, mindless orgasm. His hungry, intense look fuels my confidence.

  Our locked gazes remain unbroken as he angles forward, extending his arm underneath my raised body to guide me to his mouth. Both thighs slide over his shoulders with the movement, and he lowers his lips to brush over the apex between my legs.

  My body scorches as soon as his talented mouth begins to work my core. Unabashedly. It feels so fucking good, an urgent whimper finds its way through my lips. “Grady.”

  His returning growl sounds in the air and the vibrations released are almost too much for me to handle. With my forearms flat against the bed, my fingers lace together and tightly curl into themselves. My entire body seizes with the sensation and I’m forced to suck in a deep breath. Encouraged by my response, Grady’s mouth works me harder, the suction of his heated lips and the glide of his slick tongue bringing me to the brink of a maddened frenzy.

  My weight is completely suspended within Grady’s arms as he devours me. His mouth alternates between tortuous, languid licks and deep, delving dives of his tongue. The contrast of the two sensations is almost too much for me to handle. I cry out in ecstasy, my entire body covered in sweat and tingling with pleasure as I rock my hips against his mouth. He moans into my core and more vibrations from his lips send another jolt of fiery need throughout my lower body. Every single muscle it hits tightens, driving more tremors of pleasure to build with each stroke of his greedy mouth.

  “Grady,” I whimper. “I—”

  My heady words are cut off as Grady adjusts his hold, yanking me closer, his tongue removed and changing direction with one long lick. His darkened eyes watch my reaction as his warm lips seal around my pulsing center, and then with one more flick of his tongue, my stomach clenches and I’m gone, lost to the throes of my orgasm. My legs clasp tightly against the side of his head as he coaxes me with his mouth, waves lurching and reeling throughout my lower body.

  All words escape me, not tha
t I was really able to articulate much to begin with. My grip is still strong, my nails still digging, and all I can hear are my own heavy pants as they fill the room. Grady’s gaze remains on me, hooded yet commanding as he presses his lips against the soft skin of my inner thigh. He lifts my body and gently lowers my legs to the bed, his body following suit. His weight is glorious as his chest lands between my legs and my sensitive body bucks against him with the added pressure.

  “Beautiful,” he moans into my skin.

  Beautiful?

  I can barely breathe. I can barely move.

  I’ve never known sensations like the ones I just experienced. I’ve never known an orgasm to be so intense, so incredible, so . . . earth-shattering. I’ve read about them but never believed they were true.

  The man is a god.

  Stunning.

  Magnificent.

  And he thinks I’m beautiful?

  He’s absolute perfection.

  Sexy perfection.

  Lazy kisses patter my stomach before he works his way upward, and I fight the urge to tug his hair free and weave my fingers through the strands. He presses his lips to the side of my breast then smiles, clearly satisfied with my response.

  I grin back, because who the hell wouldn’t after that?

  He makes his way to my neck, his mouth tickling as it grazes. “Fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen, you comin’ from my mouth.”

  My face splits into a beaming smile. “Fucking hottest thing I’ve ever experienced, you watching me while I’m comin’ from your mouth.”

  His body shakes with silent laughter, then he raises his head. “Got an answer for everything, don’t you, sweetheart?”

  “I do,” I retort, which makes him chuckle more. His eyes fall to my mouth when I add, “Maybe you should just shut me up then?”

  His brow rises with my suggestion, and I lift my head, touching my lips to his.

  “Tempting,” he replies, then sweeps his tongue between my lips. My arms finally unlock, folding around his neck and pulling him closer as I deepen the kiss. After a few tangled caresses of his tongue with mine, he pulls back, his head cocked as he regards me. With his fingers sifting through my hair, his probing eyes assess me, and I answer the question before he even has to ask.