by Diana Gardin
I nod, feeling my heart pick up speed as I stare right back. I thought this would be an event he’d want to share with his friends, but he only wants it to be him and me. It dawns on me that this will be one of the defining moments of Grisham’s life, and I’m the one he wants to share it with. It feels big for us.
Monumental.
I tug on his wet suit and indicate his board. “I’m ready when you are.”
He kisses me one more time, his lips hard and warm and sweet, before pulling back and standing up. I watch as he pulls his black wet suit into place on his torso, and I stand and gather my board in my hands.
With a wordless signal between us, we jog toward the ocean.
The spray is shockingly cool as we enter the water and splash in until we’re waist deep. Then we’re on our bellies on our boards and paddling out into deep water.
“You okay?” I raise my voice so he can hear me over the sound of the ocean. He looks at me and smiles, letting me know he’s just fine.
When we’re deep enough so that the waves are just swells rising and falling beneath us and the sound of them crashing against the shore is distant, we stop paddling and straddle our boards.
Waiting.
“How does this feel?” I ask Grisham, curious about how he’s handling his first time on a surfboard in months.
“It feels…right,” he admits. His expression is relaxed, calmer than I’ve seen it when he’s not in the water. He truly loves the ocean and being on his board; it’s written all over his face. He’s completely lit up. “I’m glad I waited…to do this with you.”
I beam at him, reaching out to grab his hand. He squeezes mine tightly before letting go. “Me, too.”
We both spot it at the same time. It’s the perfect A-Frame wave, rolling toward us at a clip. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Grisham’s biceps flexing as he readies himself to paddle.
The wave approaches, and just before it’s upon us, we begin paddling as fast as we can toward shore. Just as my board begins to rise beneath me, I brace my hands against it and hop to my feet, gathering my balance. I can see Grisham doing the same a few feet away, and then we’re both up and standing as we ride the center of the wave toward the shore.
I can hear his roar of triumph, and as I glance at him, he’s pumping a fist into the air. He’s so breathtaking that I almost lose my concentration, turning back quickly to focus on the impending shoreline.
The wave breaks perfectly and we both hop off our boards onto the sand. Tears are streaming down my face because not only did Grisham surf again, he rode the hell out of that wave.
He collides into me, grabbing me in his arms and thrusting me into the air above him. The happiness on his face is complete, and it steals my breath.
“You did it!” I shout, happiness rolling off of me in forceful waves.
“Yeah.” He’s breathless as he lowers me back down to stand in front of him, and then his lips are on mine. He kiss me hard and long, and I’m nearly dizzy when he finally pulls away.
“Thank you,” he murmurs against my lips. “Thank you for being here with me for this.”
“You’re back, baby. Like, all the way back.”
He leans his forehead against mine. “Say that again.”
I wrinkle my nose in confusion. “You’re back?”
Shaking his head slowly, his eyes lock on mine and his lips curl into a sexy smile. “You called me baby. I liked it. I want to hear it again.”
I gasp as his hands slide up my sides, grazing my breasts lightly. “Okay, baby. Do you want to go again?”
He jerks me to him. “Maybe one more time.”
Planting a hard kiss on his lips, I pull away and grab my board. “Head start!”
Then I take off, giggling and running into the sea with Grisham chasing right behind me.
The stinging hot needles of Grisham’s shower feel heavenly as they wash the sand and salt off of my body. I smile to myself as I run my hands through my wet hair, remembering how amazing the day was. I’m also remembering how hot Grisham is on a surfboard. He’s such a natural out there, dipping low on his board when he needs to and riding each wave in effortlessly. He never once lost a wave.
It was an incredible day.
And now that same hot, sexy guy is waiting for me somewhere in his house while I shower. I can’t keep the smile off my face.
Suddenly, a warm hand slides around my waist until it rests on my stomach. I gasp as Grisham yanks me back against the hard planes of his wet body, and one of my arms immediately goes up to wrap around the back of his neck.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he groans into my ear. I can feel it; he’s hard and ready for me, and I turn in his arms to face him.
I’m so not prepared for the sight of Grisham fully naked in the shower with me.
My eyes roam greedily from his broad, tattooed shoulders to the muscled wall of his chest. Then they drift down to the rack of abdominal muscles that could and should definitely be in a magazine. A trail of dark hair leads down to the impressive length of his cock, and a whimper escapes me. I pull my eyes away to travel down his thick thighs and cantaloupe-size calf, before my gaze meanders lazily up his body once more. He’s wearing his prosthesis, which makes me wonder idly if he always showers with it on.
And when I meet his gaze, I’m instantly wet and ready for him, more so than I’ve ever been before. Because the sight of a man that looks like Grisham devouring every inch of me in return is beyond hot.
“I’m done waiting,” he grinds out, just before his lips collide with mine.
17
Grisham
Stinging nettles of hot water hit my back as I spin Greta around and press her against the shower wall. But the water is ice-cold compared to the raw heat of her kiss. A million thoughts run through my head as my hands blaze a trail down her bare sides, but short of the bathroom falling down around us or her pushing me away, nothing is going to stop me from seeing this through.
Surfing with her today just created too many feelings for me to contain inside me any longer. She’s been through so much with me in a short time, I feel like every time I’m with her I’m going to explode. She’s pulled me with her over hot coals to the other side of the darkness; she’s opened me up from the inside out, and she’s quickly becoming an addiction I don’t want to quit.
I want her so bad I can’t think about anything else.
I tease her lips with my tongue and she opens up for me. Placing my hands under her thighs, I hoist her up and she doesn’t waste time wrapping her legs around my waist. She’s exactly where I want her and her mouth is warm and wet where our tongues play together.
My hips pinned against hers hold her up against the wall while one of my hands delves into her hair and the other slides up her flat belly to cup her breast. She’s a handful, the perfect size, and I squeeze gently while she breaks away from my mouth and cries out.
I watch her face, fascinated, because this is a side of Greta I haven’t seen since the night in my kitchen when I stopped things before they went too far.
Tonight, there’s no stopping this.
My thumb flicks the hardening tip of her breast, and her eyes close.
I can’t wait anymore to have some part of her in my mouth, so I drop my head and lick a circle around her nipple before closing my teeth on the pebbled flesh.
“God, Grisham,” she moans. “Yes.”
“Yes?” I repeat, glancing up at her. “You’re telling me yes tonight?”
“I’m telling you yes every night,” she hisses as my mouth closes around her nipple and sucks. “Every single night.”
I hum against her skin, and her hands tighten painfully in my hair. But the pain is pure pleasure.
I know I don’t have long before the shower water runs cold, so I gently place her back onto her feet and pull away slightly. I allow both hands to cup her full breasts as I stare down into her eyes, playing, teasing.
“You’re so fucking sweet,” I tel
l her. “I’ve wanted to taste you since that night in my kitchen.”
She catches one side of her bottom lip between her teeth as I drop to my knees in front of her. I take a few seconds to just take in the sight of her. Water from the shower drips over her stomach, down past a thin line of hair leading to the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. She shifts her weight, and I glance up at her and grin.
Impatient, Grits?
Then I use my hands to part her legs as I plant a kiss to each inner thigh. Still just needing to watch, my finger slides into her folds and finds her hot little clit, drawing a slow circle around her. Her entire body shivers, and I tighten my grip on her thigh to steady her.
“Please, Grisham,” she whimpers.
I can barely hear her voice over the trickle of water around us, but I know what she wants. Slowly, I dip my tongue into the very center of her and take a lick.
She moans, her hips thrusting forward to meet my tongue, and oh fuck, it’s sexy as hell to watch. Hearing her and seeing her receive pleasure, there’s nothing in this world like it. It’s like when she’s just going about her day, she’s this sweet and innocent thing. But when she’s here with me like this, she’s responsive and sexy and I’m the only one who gets to see it.
It’s going to become my goddamn drug.
I ease one finger inside her and groan when I realize how wet she is, how free flowing she is, all because of me, my touch. It sends a painful jolt of pleasure through my already throbbing cock, and I tighten my muscles in order to remain on my knees at her feet.
“That’s it, angel,” I murmur as she shudders. “Let it go.”
I swipe at her with my tongue again and again, pumping my finger inside her while she moans and writhes, and I think I’m literally getting high off of everything that is Greta right now. I can’t get enough. She’s sweeter than my imagination gave her credit for.
She tugs my hair extra hard as she cries out, and I suck her clit into my mouth and give it one last, hard suck. I raise both of my hands to grip her legs hard, holding her in place as she falls apart above me. When my name falls from her lips again I can’t take it anymore.
I thrust open the shower door and pull a wobbly Greta out behind me. I wrap her in a towel and sweep her into my arms, carrying her from the steamy bathroom into the much cooler bedroom. As I set her down on the bed, her eyes are half-closed and there’s a sated smile on her face. Her wet hair spreads across the pillows, and her skin is flushed pink. Whether it’s from what just happened in the bathroom or from the steam, I’m not sure. I only know the effect is absolutely beautiful.
I wonder if she thinks I’m done with her yet.
Because this night is just getting started.
18
Greta
It’s difficult for me to think straight right now, but I’m pretty sure Grisham should have an award stowed away somewhere labeled “Orgasm-Giving Champion.” The things he did to me in that shower, with his tongue…I’m going to remember it every single time I’m in that room.
With ridiculous pleasure.
When I feel him sliding on top of me, I open my eyes, completely alert again. He hovers above me, supporting himself on his arms in a push-up position as he stares down at me. I’m trying to figure out the expression in his dark green eyes, but I can’t quite place it.
Awe? Adoration?
Imagining that he could feel either one of those things for me is insane. But then he reaches and brushes my cheek with the back of his knuckles. The motion is so sweet, so tender, that an instant lump forms in my throat.
“Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?” he whispers.
I can feel his erection prodding me, and I know he’s ready to give himself over to me tonight. Physically. But is he ready to give himself to me in all the ways I want him?
I know it doesn’t matter. I’m going to make love to Grisham tonight. I’m going to let him have me in any and every way he wants me, because I’m tired of waiting, too. I’ve wanted him since the second I laid eyes on him, and the fact that he wants me, too, makes risking my heart something I have to do.
I reach down, find his shaft hard and ready, and grip him tightly in my hand. He hisses, air escaping through his clenched teeth.
“Shit.” He gasps.
I watch him, his expression holding me captive as I slowly stroke him. His biceps are straining, the muscles bulging. I watch his eyes darken, and another curse falls from his lips when the pad of my thumb strokes the smooth head of his cock.
Biting my lip, I say what I’m thinking and to hell with the consequences. “I want you inside of me, Grisham. Right now.”
“Fuck, girl. You’re gonna kill me.”
I smile to myself as he reaches over me and pulls open his bedside drawer. He pulls out a row of foil packets and tears one away from the rest with his teeth. I grab it from his mouth, ripping it open as we hold each other’s stare. Not looking away from him, I reach between us and roll the condom on over him. Then I position him at my entrance.
Grisham hitches one of my legs up behind my knee, pushing my thigh into my chest. I feel the stretch in my body at the same time I feel the stretch of him filling me up as he pushes inside me with one firm thrust.
My eyes flutter closed and I moan, the feeling of having Grisham inside me exquisite and wonderful. He begins to move, and my body is awash in sensations everywhere. I feel it where we’re connected; I feel it where his hand grips the back of my raised thigh. I feel it when he drops down and his chest pushes me into the bed, his forehead connecting with mine. I feel it where his knee beside mine digs into the bed, supporting his steady movements.
My hips rock with him, meeting him thrust for thrust, and a chorus of whimpers echoes around the room. When I realize that I’m the one making those sounds, I’m not even embarrassed. Being with Grisham like this has completely changed everything for me. I’m open to him, laid bare, and I don’t give two shits.
I’m his.
Almost as if he can read my thoughts, he whispers, his lips brushing mine: “You’re mine, Grits.”
I simply answer with the truth. “I’m yours.”
A possessive growl leaves him, and he thrusts harder, faster, which amps my sensations up to a dangerous level. Without any warning at all, I’m climbing high again, and my nails rake down his back. I’m falling over the edge with an intensity that scares me but that I know is right.
Grisham turns his head, whispering in my ear as his hips continue to piston into mine. “Listen to me, Grits. Making you come has just become the single most important goal in my life. I want another one.”
He slows down his rhythm, and our eyes both drift to the place where his flesh slides slowly in and out of mine. It’s like a fantasy for me, watching a guy this hot watch me. And just like that, my intensity is ratcheting up again. My hands fly to the sheet, gathering up handfuls and squeezing. Grisham sits back, not allowing our bodies to disconnect, and reaches between us. As I feel his finger find my clit, stroking me once, twice, three times, I fly to pieces again right in front of him.
This time, I think a piece of my soul came apart with me.
Then Grisham leans forward again, and he’s thrusting into me with reckless abandon. When his breath comes fast and hard, I know he’s almost there. I allow my nails to drift up over his perfect ass, up the sides of him, and over his chest, and he trembles above me.
“Oh, my God,” he rasps as he comes, his body jerking wildly for a second before he collapses on top of me.
We lie there for minutes or maybe an hour, just breathing each other in. When Grisham rolls over, I miss him immediately, feeling cold and lonely. But he doesn’t go far, merely removing the condom and throwing it in the trash can in the bathroom before walking back to the bed and climbing in beside me. He folds his arms around me, bringing my body to rest on top of his.
My hair creates a veil over us as we stare into each other’s eyes.
“That was…” I trail
off.
“Something we’re going to repeat later,” he finishes with a slow and sexy grin.
I nod my head, a giggle escaping me. “Yeah.”
We lay silently, he on his back, cradling me into his side. I allow my fingers to trail lazy figure eights along his shoulders, chest, abdomen. Marveling at how he’s made of steel.
“I really like these,” I admit, tracing the lines of his colorful ink.
“Yeah?” he murmurs, glancing down at me. “You don’t have any, though.”
I shake my head, still eyeing him. “I’ve always thought about it, but never could decide on a design I wanted on my body forever. Tell me about yours?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and my hand stills. I begin to wonder if maybe he doesn’t want to discuss his tats.
“This one,” he says softly, pointing to the right side of his chest, “is a knight with his steed. It represents all the times I needed to be that for my mom, and that if I ever had the chance I would be.”
My heart swells. “You’ve done that.”
He nods slowly, tracing the thick, black, tribal markings in between the large, colorful images. “I hope so.”
He points to the opposite side of his chest. “This anchor, obviously, is for the navy. I thought the rope tied around it just made it look even more awesome. I thought I’d be tied to the navy for life. I was wrong.”
His voice gets lower, fuller of unshed emotion, and I brush my hand softly over the anchor. His muscles jump under my touch.
“What about this one?” I run my fingers over the reptilian scales covering the tops of both arms. They’re green and gold, and blue and red, the colors shifting and blending perfectly together. “They’re so awesome.”
“These signify me shedding my skin.” His voice is wry, one eyebrow quirking upward. “They were the first tattoos I got, when I chose to go my own way. After everything that happened with Berkeley, and my dad...I broke free from him for the first time in my life. I was finally doing what I wanted to do.” He chuckles lightly. “I knew it would piss him off. That just made it sweeter.”
