by A. D. Ryan
“Perfect.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t good, and I don’t think he really realizes the situation he could find himself in. “When I was asking Dad for the number, I think he was a little sad he couldn’t come. But he’s got to go to work.”
Greyston laughs. “Well, I think that having one trained marksman in the game is more than enough, thank you very much.” I can tell he’s only joking, but I smile, knowing he’s not too far off the mark.
I don’t tell him this, though, not wanting to worry him; it has been ages since I’ve been, so there’s a good chance I’m a little rusty. “Ha ha. It’s not like he trained me to be some kind of sleeper agent. He only wanted me to be able to take care of myself.”
“I’m just saying, if we had him along, none of us would stand a chance against the two of you.”
I decide to amp up the playful banter, maybe even stir up a little of Greyston’s competitive spirit. “And you think you stand a chance with just me?” It’s only a flash, but I sense his apprehension over the phone. “Well,” I continue, “I guess we’ll find out later.”
He’s trying to mask it, but I hear the uncertainty in his voice. “You don’t scare me.”
The right corner of my mouth twists up into a smirk as I hum. “You probably shouldn’t have said that.”
He laughs again. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
Happy to hear this, I release a sigh. “All right. I lo—” I stop myself, having almost dropped a bomb on him without even realizing I might feel this way. I try to laugh it off. “See you soon.”
With the countdown officially on, I hop out of bed, get dressed, fix the blankets, and then try to decide what to do. Daphne will be here around one, so I’ve definitely got some time to kill. Remembering I have a little bit of homework I could get a head start on, I sweep my hair up onto the top of my head haphazardly, and then grab my books from my room. I don’t feel like being cooped up in the house for the next hour, so I take my books out to the pool, and sit in one of the lounge chairs that’s bathed in sunlight.
It’s difficult to focus at first, but soon I’m wrapped up in my report, and time flies by. I get stuck toward the end of the assignment, tapping the eraser of my pencil against my textbook in hopes of knocking loose my block. I let my eyes drift out to the desert, and then I get the distinct feeling that I’m being watched.
Slowly, I turn around, almost certain I know whom it is. He’s still in the house, just behind the sliding patio window. I want to act cool, but my attempt is futile; I drop my books on the ground, my assignment momentarily forgotten, and I rush toward him. He opens the door and steps through, meeting me on the patio and pulling me into his arms. He peppers my cheek, jaw, and eventually lips with kisses, and I laugh.
“Why didn’t you call?” I inquire, his lips moving down my neck.
I feel his lips curl into a smile against my shoulder. “I think a better question is why aren’t you waiting for me upstairs?”
Feigning innocence, I glance up to the sky. “I didn’t want you to think I’ve become predictable.”
My response makes him laugh. “Juliette, you’re far from predictable. In fact, you’ve done nothing but surprise me from the day we met.”
“Again with the flattery,” I tease, my fingers lightly grazing the back of his neck and making him shiver. I giggle. “Ticklish?”
“Is this really a game you wish to instigate?” he challenges, his right eyebrow arching.
I smirk, feeling the air between us shift. “Maybe… Unless there’s something a little more…gratifying that you can think of.”
His expression seems contemplative, his right hand drifting down my body and over my ass until he grips my thigh and pulls it up around his hip. Feeling unbalanced, I lift the other leg, hooking my ankles together behind his back. “I think a little might be undershooting just how gratified you’re about to be,” he tells me.
“Careful. You don’t want to oversell yourself or anything,” I shoot back, my voice low and airy.
“Sultry and funny…a dangerous combination, Miss Foster.” His hands squeeze my ass, pulling me against him. I release a whimper as his lips find mine.
I weave my fingers into his hair, holding him close while my lips part and the kiss deepens. The passion between us escalates quickly, and I don’t want it to stop this time; I’m ready…we’re ready. I pull back slightly, locking eyes with Greyston. “Let’s go upstairs.”
His arms loosen around me, allowing me to slide to the floor slowly. Our eyes stay fixed on each other, the passion in the air between us thick. Greyston locks the patio door when we finally turn away from one another, and we head upstairs.
Excited to be together again, I pull Greyston into his room. I don’t know what exactly is going to happen, but the possibilities are endless. I stop beside his bed and lift my arms above my head. He wastes no time asking questions, instead understanding my silent request by slowly pulling my shirt up my arms. The speed he’s chosen is torture, but soon my shirt is nothing but a heap on the floor, and his eyes travel down to my waist.
I remove Greyston’s shirt and let it join mine. Without warning, Greyston grabs me and tosses me down onto his bed. I cry out, bouncing lightly on the mattress, some of my hair falling out of my ponytail and into my face.
Instead of joining me, he stares, his hands slowly working his belt free, then the button on his jeans. My pulse thickens before settling between my legs, and I press my knees together in an effort to quell it until he joins me. He slips his jeans off, pulling his feet from them, and then wraps his hands around my ankle and coaxes me toward the edge of the bed. I bite back a shameless moan when his hands travel up my legs, his thumbs tracing the seam of my inner thighs and pressing at the apex and teasing me further.
I watch his eyes, letting my gaze fall down to his hands as he flicks the button loose, and I whimper when he slides the zipper down at a ridiculously slow pace. It’s maddening. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to my lower abdomen, right above the waist of my panties, and I tremble under the sensation.
His lips curl up into a smirk against my skin, and he loops his fingers behind my jeans, easing them down over my hips.
Finally! I find myself cheering silently, lifting my ass off the bed to help make this process a little quicker. They join our growing pile of clothes, taking a lamp down with them. He doesn’t seem to notice, and I forget rather quickly with his hands on me.
“Greyston,” I whisper again.
I can’t stop my hips from undulating beneath him as he presses soft and firm kisses to my abdomen, trailing his tongue from one hipbone to the other. The passion builds, making it hard to breathe, and Greyston’s lips are hot against my skin. I look down nervously when his hands slip back up my thighs and freeze.
His blue eyes burn into mine, and then he lowers his face, his lips—then tongue—grazing the skin of my inner thigh and slowly moving north. I gasp the second I realize his intention, his tongue barely touching the juncture between my thighs, and I press my foot against his chest roughly, pushing him away.
“W-wait.” I prop myself up on my elbows and look at him, panic rising until it eclipses my pleasure. “I don’t… That’s… No.”
He looks perplexed. “No? Why Not?”
When he makes no indication of moving, I drop my foot, averting my gaze. “I-I guess it kind of…I don’t know. I don’t really like it.”
He sits back on his heels, staring. “What the hell do you mean you don’t like it?”
I only shrug. “I just don’t. It felt…weird and rushed in the past, I guess.”
His hand moves down over his face, maybe trying to wipe the shock from his expression. “Good god, Juliette. While I realize now’s probably not the best time to have this discussion, I have to wonder what the hell was going through that jackass’s head.”
The somber tone in the room shifts again, inviting levity. I glance up at him, feeling a little more relaxed. His hands are on m
y thighs again, pulling me closer to the edge of the bed. I sit up and look at him, using my fingers to push his hair off his forehead.
“Do you trust me?” He kisses me lightly and gives my thighs a squeeze.
“Implicitly.” His hand drifts toward my inner thigh, and I inhale a shaky breath when his fingers slide home.
“I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” I smile. “So if this is absolutely something you don’t want to do, I won’t press the matter.” A finger slips inside, and I moan, digging my fingers into his shoulders. “But if you’ll let me, I promise to make it an experience you’ll never forget.”
My eyebrows pull together as I push my unease aside and nod my acquiescence. “Okay,” I whisper. “But if I don’t enjoy it—”
He interjects quickly. “Just tell me to stop, and I will.” He kisses me softly, then eases me back down onto the bed with his free hand while the other continues to move between my legs.
I clutch the blankets as pleasure consumes me again, my body tingling. Greyston kisses the inside of each thigh before slowly removing his hand, and I whimper at the loss. He adjusts our position until my legs rest on his shoulders, and then he lowers his head. My gut reaction is to push him away the second his tongue makes contact, but instead I tighten my grip on the blanket and instill all the trust I have in him.
I don’t know why, but I lift my head off the mattress and watch him. It’s strange at first, but then his tongue slides over a sensitive spot that turns me into a simpering mess, and I gasp, my hips pushing into his face out of instinct, seeking out even more. His eyes snap up to find me staring down at him. Like a gentleman, Greyston waits for me to give him the okay to continue, and I nod—I think. I’m honestly a little disoriented.
He proceeds slowly, and my breathing becomes heavy—labored. My legs tighten around him, pulling him closer and encouraging him to keep going. Greyston increases his efforts, using a little more pressure, and I fall back onto the bed with a moan, unable to keep my body upright anymore. He was right; this is incredible.
“Oh, god.” Pressure continues to build like a storm in my belly. Everything gathers in the middle, swirling around, and it’s only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose. I’m no longer in charge of my body, succumbing to pleasure, and my hips rock against Greyston’s face.
My legs tremble, and I think my moans of approval are growing louder—honestly, it all sounds so far away as I get lost in the fog of ecstasy. One of my legs shifts, my foot pressing against Greyston’s shoulder, and I feel him pull back slightly before I weave my fingers into his hair and hold him in place.
“Don’t stop,” I plead. “Please, god, don’t stop.” It takes my brain a minute to register what Greyston does next. It’s so many different sensations at once as he guides me closer and closer to the edge. My body is in that zero-gravity stage as an orgasm prepares to push me. I’ve been here before; I’ve just never been given the chance to fall.
“Juliette.” His voice sounds far away, but I find my way back to it, focusing on it and using it to ground myself. “Look at me, baby.”
I prop myself up onto my elbows again and look down at him. I watch as his right hand and tongue work simultaneously, and it’s almost too much. My senses are completely overloaded as I watch him, feel him, hear him… And that’s all it takes before I’m free-falling.
I collapse back onto the bed, wave after wave of bliss washing over me. The bed shifts, and Greyston is making his way up my body, a confident smile on his face. “That was…” I can’t even find the words to describe just how incredible it was.
Thankfully Greyston seems to still have his wits about him. “Amazing.” He leans in to kiss me, and I balk, my eyes widening and darting between his and his lips.
The thought of kissing him after he’d just… It gives me pause. But then it makes me curious. Bringing a hand up, I place it along his jaw, my thumb moving across his full lower lip. It’s soft, still a little wet, though from his tongue or going down on me, I can’t be sure. My curiosity continues to climb, and I can see he really wants to kiss me, so I curl my fingers, drawing him forward. I’m still hesitant, but I finally press my lips to his.
The kiss is quick, pulling back just as Greyston’s lips part and his tongue slides along my lower lip. I gaze into his excited blue eyes and lick my lips, tasting myself as he had for the first time. It’s…different, but not awful. Greyston watches me as I appraise the situation, and his eyes darken with desire. I pull him back to me without warning, and kiss him, plunging my tongue between his lips and moaning as I slip my hand between us and around his stiff length.
He groans into our kiss, his hips moving into my hand before I pull it free. Our lips part, and I scoot back on the bed, making room for Greyston to be a little more comfortable. I am ready to take this final step with him. We both are.
He joins me on the bed, kneeling between my legs, and then he lowers himself on top of me.
Kicking his boxers off, Greyston looks excited as he prepares to rejoin me on the bed, and then he stops, glancing toward his bedside table. “Shit.”
“What?” I ask, my eyebrows arching.
He seems upset with himself. “I don’t have any condoms.”
“Oh.” My hope plummets at a frightening rate. Greyston looks absolutely devastated. I offer him a smile and drop my eyes to find him still standing at almost-full attention. “Well, we can wait until later, then. In the meantime, maybe I could help you take care of that?”
It doesn’t take long for Greyston to throw me over his shoulder and carry me toward the bathroom. Once we’re in the where I help him alleviate his not-so-little problem before Daphne shows up to go paint-balling with us.
Chapter 21
We’re about ten minutes late from when we said we wanted to meet, but Greyston insisted we stop by the store so he could grab an energy drink. When we finally arrive, we find a parking spot in the lot, right next to Toby and Callie’s luxury SUV. Xander is with them, having been picked up after getting settled into his room. None of them seem annoyed by our tardiness, and we still have about five minutes before our reservation, anyway.
Smiling, Greyston takes my hand and leads me forward, Daphne following. “Juliette, Daphne, I’d like to introduce you to Xander Richland.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell him.
When he smiles, I notice the shallow dimple in his left cheek. He’s about five inches taller than me, slender and athletic. His curly dark hair is long, hanging just above his chin, and his dark brown eyes are soulful. He looks trustworthy, and his energy reads the same.
Xander nods his head curtly, the left side of his mouth turning up as he looks down at Daphne. “It’s a pleasure.” He reaches out for her hand, and I have to bite my lip to keep from giggling when I see Daphne blush as he kisses her knuckles. She’s not a blusher—not ever—so this is huge.
“So, um…” Daphne stumbles for words—another first. “You play baseball, right?”
Xander’s smile widens, and he nods. “I do.”
“And do you like it?” she asks before cringing and shaking her head. “That was stupid. Of course you do.”
“It wasn’t stupid.”
“So, Xander, how was your flight in?” Daphne asks, reaching for a sandwich.
“Pretty good, thank you.” Xander turns to Greyston. “And the hotel is incredible. Thank you and Toby again for taking care of everything. Y’all have officially gone above and beyond.”
“We’re just trying to show you everything Phoenix has to offer,” Greyston tells him.
“Guys, we should head in,” Toby announces.
As we walk toward the building, Greyston can sense my excitement and reaches over and places his hand on my lower back. This of course only invites back a different kind of excitement, even if he doesn’t really mean for it to—or maybe he does—and I find myself thinking about earlier and what we might do once we’re alone again. Even just remembering the i
ntensity of his stare when he first arrived home sends shockwaves through my veins.
The sexual tension between us continues to mount with every second. I feel like I’m going to burst at the seams if we wait any longer. Glancing over at him, I bite the inside of my cheek and wonder if maybe he’s thinking the same thing…
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” he points out. “Plotting out your war strategies?”
“Something like that,” I say with a sly little shrug. “You scared?”
Turning his head, he arches a brow and gives me that crooked smirk that I love. “You gonna take it easy on me?”
“Aw,” I coo, reaching out and placing my hand on his cheek. “Not a chance.”
Greyston laughs. “Didn’t think so. Thought it was worth asking, though.”
Behind Greyston, Daphne starts laughing as she saunters up to us. “She is going to destroy you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Greyston grumbles, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, all while smiling.
My excitement continues to escalate with every step, and I’m practically pulling Greyston behind me. The minute we walk through the doors, I can hear a game in progress, and a rush of adrenaline surges through me. I’m shaking.
“Hi,” I enthusiastically greet the man at the counter. “I have a reservation for six at two.”
He checks his computer and nods. “Juliette Foster?”
“That’s me.”
“All right, well the last group is just wrapping up, so we’ll just go over everything you’ll need to know while we wait. Do any of you have your own equipment?” he asks, looking at each of us. “No? Well then, full equipment rental is nine ninety-five per person, and that gets you everything you’ll need for the afternoon, including one hundred rounds of ammo. Should you find you need more ammunition, we have price packages for them.”
After he gives us the low down, I reach into my vest for my wallet when Greyston stops me, placing a hand over mine. “I’ve got this,” he says.
