by Anne Jolin
I’m thrashing around underneath him, trying to get away from his torturing. I am the most ticklish person in the world. “Don’t think I forgot that you still climbed into bed naked with me last weekend,” I pant, freeing my hands long enough to pinch his sides.
“Hey, now. It’s my bed. I can sleep naked if I want.”
“Mhmm.” I poke him again. “Ever the gentleman, Mr. Holt,” I tease.
We spend the rest of Saturday in bed. Talking in bed. Reading in bed. Eating in bed. And, of course, having some of the hottest sex of my life in bed. Before I know it, it’s nearly seven o’clock at night.
“I think I should probably go home,” I mention sadly. He’s lying with his head in my lap while I absentmindedly rub my fingers over his buzzed head.
He rolls over onto his back so he’s looking up at me. “Stay the night.”
“Again? I don’t have any clothes here and I need to shower.” I’m putting up a weak fight, because when push comes to shove, I really would rather stay the night with him in all of his naked glory than go home to an empty bed.
“The plans I have for you don’t include clothes, sweetheart.” He smirks, and I roll my eyes.
“You’re insatiable.”
“And you love it,” he quips back.
I make no point to correct him. It’s true. I do love it. He’s a sex god, one hundred percent, and if I had to guess, I’d say I was quickly becoming addicted to him.
His expression turns soft and he sits up to place a gentle kiss on my lips before resting his forehead against mine. “Stay.”
I answer quickly. “Okay.” So sue me. Would you say no? If any of you said yes, you’d best be looking down to check if your pants are on fire, because I’m calling Liar! Liar!
He’s wearing a triumphant smile as he climbs off the bed.
“Where are you going?” I question, instantly missing his warmth. I’ve no sooner asked the question before he grabs my ankles, hauling me across the bed. “What the—” is all I get out before I’m tossed over his shoulder in nothing but my birthday suit for the second time in less than twelve hours.
“I do believe someone wished for a shower.” He smacks my ass hard, and a pool of heat settles between my thighs. “And I’m in the mood to grant a wish or two.”
He carries me down the hall towards the bathroom, setting me down in front of the large walk-in glass shower. After turning the water on, he tests to make sure it’s warm before reaching out for my hand and pulling me under the warm spray. He’s standing behind me, lathering soap up in his hands, before he starts to massage my shoulders. It takes almost everything I have to remain upright because it feels fucking amazing.
My body is sore all over from almost an entire day of nonstop sex—let it be known for the record that I’m not complaining—and I’m exhausted from a week of getting hardly any sleep. He slips his hands to the front of my body and begins to knead my heavy breasts. I let out another moan as my head falls back to rest on his shoulder, feeling his hard cock pressing into my backside. His firm hands are still languidly massaging and washing my tits and it’s causing my pussy to clench with want. I need something to take the edge off. I slide my right hand down across my stomach and start to massage my clit.
“Yesss,” I hiss out as I can feel my pleasure building.
He moves his hand to cover mine, and he pushes two of my fingers inside me, pumping them in and out. His other hand is teasing my sensitive nub, and I can feel my walls tightening around my fingers.
“It’s fucking hot watching you touch yourself,” he says gruffly into my ear, his voice laden with lust as his hand continues to set the pace to my fingers driving in and out of me. He stops suddenly, spinning me around and pressing my body against the wall. “I want you to come with my fingers inside you. With my mouth on that pretty pussy.” He drops to his knees, lifting one of my legs and draping it over his shoulder.
I can feel his fingers slide through my folds, spreading them apart as he licks his way up my wet pussy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything this hot in my entire life. Ever. If I died right now, I could die happy. His blond head is between my thighs, feasting like I’m a five-course meal, and the water is rolling down the muscular planes of his back. He looks up at me, biting down on my clit at the same time that he pushes a finger inside me. It’s all too much, the heat of his stare and the combined sensations. My release hits me hard, and I scream his name, covering his beautiful face in my come.
He stands up, licking his lips, and I am mesmerized while watching him stroke his impressive length. Fuck, I want him. He spins me around so my back is to him once again and teases my entrance, placing the tip of his thick cock at my entrance and moving it in slow circles. I push my ass back towards him, desperately wanting him inside me.
“Put your hands on the wall in front of you, Hannah,” he demands, and I do as I’m told. He’s still teasing me, dragging his cock along my folds and rubbing it around my entrance. “I was just checked, Hannah and I’m clean. Are you on birth control, sweetheart? I want to fuck you bare.”
“Yes!” I answer quickly. I have been since I was sixteen. He’s still teasing me. “Please,” I whimper. I don’t know why he does this to me, makes me beg. “Please fuck me, Greyson. Hard.” I shove my ass towards him again, and that must be his undoing, because he slams into me, bottoming out in my tight pussy. “Oh God! Yes!” I scream, and he continues fucking me with almost brutal force. I can hear his balls slapping my ass as he thrusts in and out, his hands roughly gripping my hips.
“You’re so tight, sweetheart. So fucking tight,” he groans, and I clench my inner walls against him. This position, with me bent at the waist, allows him to go so deep, slamming into my g-spot every time he drives himself inside. I look back at him over my shoulder and the sight of him has my second orgasm barreling out of me. He’s soaking wet, water dripping from his hair, and his eyes are locked on where our bodies are joined. He’s watching us fuck and I can’t handle it. I clench down on him again and we both cry out our release at the same time.
After our shower, I text the girls that I will be gone again tonight and turn off my phone. My nosey little parkers would have questions, but I will deal with them tomorrow. We sit on his living room floor eating Chinese food. I’m wearing nothing but his old T-shirt and he’s wearing low hung plaid pajama pants that shows off that sexy-as-sin V. It is probably one of the best dinners I’ve had. We decide to have a Lethal Weapon marathon and I am thrilled to see that he shares my love of action movies. Or he is humoring me, but either works. I fall asleep sometime near the end of the second movie, my head on his chest, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite places in the world, lying on top of his lion heart.
My last thought before sleep is that this man likely has the power to break me, and I’m not sure that I care. Not one bit.
“GOOD MORNING, SWEETHEART.” My eyes open slowly to the sound of his deep voice. “Or, I guess, good afternoon, actually.” He chuckles.
I smile and tell him good morning, taking the time to absorb all the glory that is Greyson Holt in the morning. He is absolutely delicious. I wasn’t sure it was possible for him to look more handsome than he did the day I met him, but Lord, was I ever wrong. He’s sporting more scruff than usual, likely from going two days without shaving, his bare chest is still wet from a shower and he looks happy. A happiness that reaches his stunning pale-blue eyes.
“What time is it?” I ask. Closing my eyes and reaching to stretch my arms above my head. I don’t hear him answer, so I open my eyes to make sure he’s still in the room.
He hasn’t moved. He’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, and I follow his gaze. The sheet covering my chest slid down while I was stretching, and he looks starved. I grab the sheet quickly and swat him with my other hand. “No way, Jose! I have to go home today. You can’t keep me here as your little sex slave any longer,” I tease.
He tugs at the sheet and leans down to nip at my lower lip. �
�I bet I could make you stay.”
I lean into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I bet you could, handsome, but my friends are going to think I’ve been kidnapped and a psycho is texting them from my phone if I don’t show up soon.”
He grabs me around the waist, pulling me into his lap, and touches his lips to mine. The kiss starts out slow, but when I whimper, he takes the opportunity to explore my mouth with his tongue. The kiss becomes hot and we’re quickly making out like teenagers. I’m almost about to say, Screw it! And tell him that I’ll stay as long as he wants me too, but he breaks our kiss and lays his forehead against mine. He’s breathing heavily and I can feel his hard cock under my ass.
“Okay, sweetheart. I’m not happy about it, but let’s take you home.”
An hour later, I’m dressed in a pair of Greyson’s sweatpants and an old City and Colour T-shirt, pulling up outside my house. When he told me to pick one from the drawer, I instantly chose this one. We had listened to the band on and off all weekend, and it reminded me of him. Although I am warm, I look downright hilarious; boy’s sweatpants, boy’s shirt, no shoes, massive parka, no makeup, and my hair was a disaster. All of this and I am clutching a skimpy dress and high heels. Beth and Lennon are going to eat me alive! I haven’t had to do many walks of shame during my twenty-four years, but this one is definitely going to top the charts.
He turns off his beast and goes to jump out of the truck when a thought occurs to me. “Does your truck have a name?”
He looks almost a little embarrassed and I start to think maybe that was a weird question to ask. Not everyone has a thing for naming inanimate objects, Hannah!
I’m about to tell him never mind when he starts to answer. “Bagheera,” he says, and I repeat it out loud. “Ya. Bagheera. Like the black panther from the Jungle Book.”
Well wrap me up and ship me off because I am a goner. Massive truck named after a children’s book character. I’ll be damned if that’s not cute as heck. I’m still smiling to myself when he gets out to open my door. I’m debating how exactly I’m going to make it up the slippery driveway with no shoes, and I really don’t want to put on my high heels with sweatpants. A girl has her limits. Getting in at his place was no problem because the driveway was shoveled, but well… We are girls, so our driveway is not. I’m debating my best course of action when Greyson reaches in, scooping me up in his arms, catching me off guard.
“What exactly are you doing?” I say, laughing, wrapping my arms, heels and all, around his neck.
“You don’t have shoes on and it’s icy. I’m going to carry you.” He kicks the door shut with his heavy boot and starts up the driveway.
I start to giggle. Yes, that’s a thing I do now. I giggle, apparently. He’s turned me into a giggler. I’m still giggling when we reach the front door. The girls’ cars are in the driveway, so the door is unlocked. He carries me inside, and he is still holding me when my sister comes barreling into the room.
“Hannah, is that you?” she yells, but she stops dead the second she sees us. She looks mortified and gives me no time to answer before going off again. “Oh my God. No. How could you? Mom and Dad are going to be pissed. What is wrong with you? I didn’t think you were that drunk. I never would have let you leave with him if I thought you’d do this!” She waves her hands frantically in front of her.
“What are you talking about?” I gape at her. On the plus side, at least he knows crazy runs in my family.
“You got married. You ran off and married some guy you barely know like this is Vegas or something! We live in CANADA! And I was supposed to be your maid of honor. How could you do this to me?” She is almost screaming at this point. “And now he’s carrying you over the threshold into our house. Oh my God. I think I’m going to be sick.” With that, she flops down on the couch, covering her face with her hands.
I know I should be jumping to explain, but I can’t help myself. I burst out laughing. I told you how much Beth loves juicy gossip… Well, she also loves to exaggerate—a lot. I’m laughing so hard that I’m crying and I can barely breathe. Greyson starts to laugh too and has to put me down so he can brace himself on the wall. It’s actually the most ridiculous thing in the entire world. I’m a cautious person by nature and would never do something like that—ever. I’m still trying to compose myself long enough to say something when Beth snaps.
“Jesus Christ, Hannah! This isn’t funny! You ruined your life!” Oh, Beth—ever the flare for the dramatic!
“We’re…not…married,” I manage to gasp out in my hysteria.
“What?” Beth says.
I’m still laughing, so Greyson answers for me. “We didn’t get married. She had no shoes on. I was carrying her so she didn’t have to walk on the ice.”
My sister’s face is now absolutely priceless. Her mouth is gaping open and her face is starting to go red. I finally manage to talk so everyone can understand what I’m saying and don’t miss the opportunity to make fun of her.
“Beth, you lunatic! Did you sip some crazy with your coffee this morning?”
She is still just staring at us, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Greyson and me. Her mouth opens and closes. It looks like she’s trying to say something but can’t seem to find the words.
Greyson steps around from behind me and reaches out his hand. “Hi. I’m Greyson.” He’s nicer than I am because I was still planning to tease her about this…well, forever actually.
“Beth… Sorry,” my sister stutters and then shakes her head. “I mean, hi. I’m Beth. Hannah’s older sister. And I’m so, so sorry!”
He smiles at her and she blushes hard. My sister just realized that, not only did she embarrass the shit out of herself, but she also did it in front of the sexiest guy alive.
“It’s all good, Beth, a pleasure to meet you.” He turns around, wrapping his arms around my waist, and lifts me so my feet are dangling in the air. “Dinner tomorrow?” he asks, and I put my hands on the back of his head.
“It’s a date,” I say, and he grins, resting his forehead on mine.
“You bet your ass it is, sweetheart.” He crashes his lips into mine and I kiss him back just as hard.
I’m not sure how long we stand there for, but it’s long enough for someone to clear their throat. Beth.
He pulls away, setting me back down on my feet and kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hannah,” he says and turns to wave goodbye to Beth before he’s back out the door.
“Holy shit! I think I just got pregnant watching you that was so hot,” Beth says, fanning herself with her hands.
“Nice try, crazy train.” I laugh at her. “There is no way I’m letting you get off that easy changing the subject.” She groans. “That was blackmail material right there. I wouldn’t be a good sister if I didn’t get my money’s worth teasing you about it.” I punch her lightly in the shoulder and take off for my room.
WE SETTLE QUICKLY into a pattern over the next two months. When Greyson was working his four days on, I tried to keep busy with work and the girls. When he was on his four days off, we spent as much time together as humanly possible. I stayed at his place almost every night during those days, and the sex only got hotter. Despite his initial miscommunication with Beth, he gets along great with her and Lennon. He even promised to take them for a ride along in his ambulance one day, and the girls were so excited that they hugged him so hard that I thought he was going to pass out. He isn’t overly fond of my close friendship with Jami, but he’s working on it, and I do my best to keep the two separate from each other.
To say that I am pleasantly surprised by the turn of events would be the understatement of the century. When I woke up in his bedroom that first morning and realized who he was, I never expected in a million years that we’d end up where we are now. I smile to myself in the mirror as I realize that I’ve gotten lost in my head thinking about Greyson again. I’m such a sucker for reminiscing. I look at the time and quickly finish putting on my makeup.
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Today, is my twenty-fifth birthday, and thus far, it has been fantastic! I had breakfast with my parents, Beth, and Lennon. Work was easy, the girls surprised me with lunch, and now I am getting ready to go out with my boyfriend. My boyfriend. Gosh, that seems surreal. He started calling me his girlfriend in the last three weeks, and I was more than eager to go with the flow. I have no idea what we are doing tonight. He wouldn’t tell me anything. I woke up to two dozen red roses and a note that said:
I don’t think I’ve ever swooned that hard in my entire life. It is a wonder I got anything done today after that. Yours. Gah. I am literally walking on sunshine today. I’ve been deflecting any and all negativity with my happiness shield. Pew. Pew. Pew. That was me mentally deflecting anything bad coming my way.
I dressed in blue jeans, which I tucked into Sorrels, a wool sweater, and my favorite army-green jacket with the fur-lined hood. I was just grabbing my toque and mittens when I heard him come inside the front door. I was so excited that I couldn’t wait. I ran out of the bedroom and threw myself into his arms.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he says, kissing me softly. “Are you ready to go?”
Am I ever! I’ve been excited about it ever since I got the note.
“You bet,” I say, kissing him back and smiling. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what we’re doing?”
“For the one hundredth time and as you and Beth would say, ‘No way, Jose!’” He kisses me on the nose, setting my feet back down on the ground.
I pout and bat my eyelashes at him, hoping I’m giving off a cute puppy-dog look and not a bug eyed squirrel or something. He leans forward and sticks his tongue out, licking across the seam of my lips.
