“And I love you too. But I don’t want anything to come between us. I need you to have faith in us. I won’t let you go either…but maybe you just need something to remind you how much I actually care for you.”
I touch my wrist and look down at the silver charms. He needs something to keep him grounded. Without hesitation, I pluck off one of the charms and gently place it in the palm of his hand.
“Here. This has kept me sane for eight years.”
He holds the charm up and gulps when he stares at the engraved J. “I can’t take this.” He tries to put it back on my wrist, but I laugh softly and push it into his chest.
“I want you to have it. It helped me,” I tell him earnestly.
“But—”
“Just shut up and take it,” I tell him. He still seems hesitant, so I lean up and peck his lips. My hands find their home in his velvet hair. “I love you, Grey.” He wraps his arms around me and lays back. I smile as I take in his bloodshot eyes and crooked smile.
“I don’t deserve you,” he croaks.
I shake my head and kiss his nose; he scrunches it up, and I laugh. “Go to sleep. You’ll feel like hell tomorrow.” I exhale a lengthy breath and play with the soft fabric of his shirt. I bunch my hands up when he leans down.
“That’s not possible, not when I have my heaven in my arms,” he whispers.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A feather touches my cheek. I attempt to swat it away, annoyed at having been woken up from an actual good dream. I haven’t had one like it since the accident. It feels amazing being able to relax in my subconscious without having a heart attack when I wake. I want to revel in the angelic feeling and take in the man’s face before me—Grey. He is aglow with a dazzling smile that makes me weak in the knees every single time.
In my fading dream, I’m admiring his black eyes that contrast against the crisp white t-shirt hugging his muscles when I feel hands grip my waist and I am tugged.
I open my eyes slowly, like I am waking up from an intense drug. But when they’re open, I stare at my everyday poison—Grey. He’s wearing sweats, his black hair is tousled, and his dimples burrow in his cheeks like dimes in a tidal wave of handsomeness.
My body relaxes at the sight, and I smile broadly. I’m sure I look like a mess, with my loose, already rueful curls and dull blue eyes, but he looks at me as if I’m an angel. His angel. I love it.
“G’morning, princess,” he says, his voice low and raspy; his breath smells like mint. He’s been awake long enough. Has he been watching me? I decide his morning voice is my favorite thing to hear.
“Morning, Grey,” I reply with an equally raspy voice. He watches me intently as I sit up and rub my eyes. “What time is it?”
“Ten past eleven,” he informs me without a care in the world.
My eyes bug out my head, and I scramble out of bed, almost busting my butt in the process, but he catches me. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” I storm out of the room with him casually waltzing after me.
“You looked peaceful, at rest,” he explains. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
“I missed, like, two classes already. Maybe three. Oh, jeez, Grey,” I whine, just thinking about how many times I have missed classes. All of which began around the time I met this dysfunctional, amazing guy, but I don’t regret it.
I dash down the hallway like a mad woman, hair shaped like a bird’s nest, and slightly slipping on the ends of my kitten-printed pajamas—don’t judge me, they were on sale. All the while, I listen to the infuriating sound of him chuckling behind me. I show him my middle finger out of annoyance. It only increases his laughter. I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the smile growing on my face.
When I enter the bathroom, I instantly take off his shirt I slipped on after we fooled around in the middle of the night—that man is a restless sexual beast, I kid you not—and my panties. I’m not even phased being naked around him anymore. I have never felt more comfortable being natural and bare like this. Out in the open. But he has seen me naked in more compromising ways.
I open the cabinet and take out one of the new toothbrushes and spread paste on it. I brush my teeth rapidly as he speaks.
“What’s the big whoop? So you miss a few classes. It isn’t the end of the world,” he says, and I glare at him. He defensively raises his hands and chuckles. “Don’t go smiting me, princess. I thought you could use the sleep.”
I laugh like a maniac as I put the pink brush down and twist on the shower head. “What I could use is a boyfriend who wakes me up in time for classes.” He twists my body so that I am against his chest, but I smile and push myself off. I enter the shower and close the curtain after me. I begin counting to three, but before I can get there, he gets in, fully naked, and pulls me into his chest. “What are you doing?”
“A good boyfriend lets his girl sleep in when she needs it,” he says. “Boyfriend…” He clicks his tongue in his cheek. “The word sounds silly, doesn’t it? I think we mean more to each other than that childish title, don’t you?”
“I guess,” I mumble against his skin. I become enchanted with the steady rise and fall of his chest and the raspiness of his voice, and he laughs and kisses my head.
“Exactly what I mean,” he says, playing with a piece of my hair.
I reluctantly step back and pick up the liquid body soap. I squeeze some on my claimed loofah hung on the tiled wall and rub it against my chest. I face the water and sigh as I let my head go back. The water instantly relaxes my groggy muscles and beats against my skin. I suck in a breath when I feel him run his large hands down my shoulders. I suck in my bottom lip and continue washing my skin. I can feel his eyes burning through me. A cocky smile spreads across my face before I can help it.
He turns me around, hisses, and tilts my head up. “Don’t tease me if you want to make it to your next class.” I make the mistake of glancing down at his dick, erect and practically taunting me.
“Maybe I can be a tiny bit late.” I pinch the air and gasp when I am suddenly against the tile behind me. My loofah drops to the ground. He grabs my thighs and lifts me up. I close my eyes in anticipation, but he takes his time and nips at my neck. Damn bastard.
“Thought you had to go to class—” he taunts.
“Oh, shut up, Grey,” I say breathlessly and capture his lips in mine as he laughs. It dies down as I slowly descend down onto his member. I let out a moan at the familiar feeling of him inside me. It feels different this way. More…naughty.
I’m having sex in a shower. If someone told me I, Olivia Westerfield, would be having sex in a shower with the love of my life three months ago, I would have called them insane and turned back to my books. But now, now I revel in the feeling of him gripping me enough to leave a mark and thrusting into me like it’s his mission to leave me trying to recover for days.
“Fuck—you always feel amazing,” he groans and tugs on my hair. His teeth graze my neck. “And to feel you fully. Oh my fucking—”
I cut him off by smashing my lips onto his. I moan, and it’s swallowed by his open mouth. I glide my tongue against his and soak in the sharp mint. “Harder,” I demand, and he nods. I tug at his hair, and my mouth falls open as he does as I tell him. He breathes heavily and sinks his nails into my soapy skin. I moan his name over and over until I temporarily forget my own.
We are one and, before him, before this…I was nothing. But now, I feel alive and more satisfied than ever. I claw at his back, and he grips my neck with a firm grip, but not enough to hurt me, and licks my lips before tugging on the bottom one.
“Do you feel—o-okay? Are you—hurting?” he stutters and bites near my mouth.
I grip his hair and clutch tightly. “This feels heavenly.”
“You feel heavenly—holy shit,” he grunts, and I laugh. My smile fades as he presses into me harder against the wall. I bite my lip and drag my nails across his back. His muscles constrict, and he drags me up and down faster, harder. My breath hitches, a
nd he curses loudly in Spanish.
The sounds of water hitting the ground and our skin slapping against each other fills my ears, and I try to catch my breath but end up whispering his name. I suck on his neck and lightly bite his earlobe. He cries out and thrusts faster and faster—
“I’m coming,” I announce, and he nods rigidly and grunts.
“Hold on, I’m almost—oh, shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses, and I laugh, snorting as I let my head fall back against the tiles behind me.
My laughter immediately stops when I feel his dick stiffen. “Grey—” I begin to warn him, but he nods and pulls out. He lets go of me and sucks me into his lips as he reaches down and rubs me at a fast pace while I rub him with equal amount of need. His release meets my skin the same time I reach my own climax. I close my eyes and lean into his chest as my body twitches and he hisses through his teeth. My skin feels loose and my heart rate has calmed down after a storm of passion.
I wrap my arms around his neck, and he smiles lazily as he tilts my head up with a dark, enchanting smile. I stare at him and he stares right back at me. Right here in this moment, a link I felt the moment I first saw him—the first moment I kissed him—strengthens itself.
We are tied to one another in the purest, most wholesome way. This man will be the death of me, but he will also be the reason for my happiness. And he feels the same way about me. I can read it in his pitch-black eyes.
“I love you,” I breathe and feel my lips slack into a warm smile.
He rubs my lower back and nods. “And I love you.”
I finish getting clean, and I reciprocate for him. It is spent with wandering eyes, hands, and a hell of a lot of teasing. I relish every time he steals a kiss or treads his long fingers along my skin.
Even now as I am putting on the white t-shirt he lent me, a smile stretches my Grey-kissed skin. I suck on my bottom lip as I tug on my pajama pants, remembering how his hands gripped my ass as he stole a rather long, passionate kiss.
My phone vibrates on the bed, and I pick it up and read a text from Julia. She wants me to help pick out a birthday present for Jaimie. She’s throwing a surprise party for her on Saturday. I think it’s super sweet, and I promised I’d help plan it. We’ve already decided the venue—an ice lounge downtown. I shove on my boots and close his bedroom door after myself. I guess I can miss classes for another day. It’s for a good cause.
I enter the kitchen and feel my breath hitch as I find Grey hunched over the counter. He’s dressed in all black, as usual. As I approach, my heart picks up speed until I can hear it clearly in my ear. I step to the side as I approach him. He’s about to open my book. I rush over and place my hands over his eyes.
“What’ya doing?” I ask playfully.
“I should be asking you that,” he says jokingly.
I shrug. “I’m writing my future wedding vows,” I joke with a toothy smile. He laughs and picks me up and sets me on the counter with ease. He gets in between my legs and nudges my nose with his. I giggle and gently tug at the curly ends of his hair. He closes his eyes in bliss and I tilt my head as I trail my fingers to run over his lips. He teasingly nips at my thumb, and I laugh and cup his neck, running my fingers down the slopes.
“Should I be nervous? Are you going to suddenly pop out a ring with doves flapping everywhere, shitting all over the place?” He raises an eyebrow, and I roll my eyes.
“No…it doesn’t hurt to be on top of things, though,” I say with a shrug.
“I’d rather you be on top of my di—”
I put a finger on his lips, and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. I barely hold in laughter. “Not now. My body does have to re-energize, and I have to go meet Julia and Jaimie at the mall.”
“Want me to drive you?” he asks as I hop down.
“No, I have to change into pants that don’t have kittens on them.” I tug at the cotton fabric, and he cups his mouth and arches an eyebrow, obviously trying not to laugh. I turn to the door, but he pulls me back with a pout.
“Let me drive you,” he persists.
“There isn’t any need. Campus is just a few bus stops away—”
He puts a finger to my lips with a smirk. “Nonsense. I’m not letting my future wife ride the bus when I can drive her myself.” He smacks my ass, and I gasp. He winks at me. “I’ll be in the car waiting.” His eyes linger on me for a second beat before he walks out of the apartment.
“I’ll be right after you…” I call. I wait a while before looking at the book atop of the counter. I curse under my breath and pick it up before following after the love of my life.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I am going to burn this fucking place to the ground!” Jaimie yells. I stand uncomfortably behind her, switching my weight on my feet. “I will torch this motherfucker, and it will be all. Your. Fault. Brenda.” She thrusts her finger in the woman’s face. Poor woman. All she did was inform Jaimie that the pair of ridiculously expensive boots we have been searching for all day is sold out.
The woman shakes and anxiously combs her bony fingers through her spiky hair.
“I am terribly sorry—” the woman begins to mewl.
I’m pretty sure she’s on the verge of tears. I can see them building up in her mud-brown eyes. I look around nervously at the snooty women who look absolutely appalled. I kind of want to give them something to really be surprised about. Instead of doing something that could get me banned from the mall, I walk over to Jaimie and the worker, plastering on my biggest, most polite smile.
“Are you sure there aren’t any boots left?” I ask her, even though I already know the answer.
She looks at me with a mostly relieved but still on edge smile. “No, I’m sorry—they were in great demand and were on sale. You two got here too late.”
“If they were in such demand, then why weren’t there more? You knew they were on sale. You did this to yourself. You wanted to get an ass whooping today,” Jaimie gripes, pointing that finger again.
Good Lord.
“Maybe you could have gotten here earlier?” the poor woman suggests.
She did not just say that…
Jaimie’s eyes go wide, and I swear I witness a different, primal side of her unleash like a kraken. She lets out what I think is a battle cry or a signal for “death” and lunges forward, acrylic nails jutting out of her hands like extended swords. Luckily, I grab her before she can claw the lady’s eyes out.
“Time to go,” I tell Jaimie and forcibly turn her the other way. I look back at the woman and grin; she looks at me with a horrified expression. “Thank you for your service.”
“Why are you thanking her?” Jaimie screeches like a banshee as I yank her out of the high-end shoe store. “She just crushed my heart, and you’re thanking her!”
I cringe at her high-pitched scream and make the mistake of asking, “What’s so appealing about them, anyway? They’re just a pair of boots.” I truly don’t see the fascination.
“They were purple, six inches, true leather, had velvet fur, and knee-high. Need I say more?” she exclaims, waving her hands around manically. Wow, can she really go nuts over fashion. I’d rather fight over a pair of Toms than boots that could be used as a torturing device.
I shake my head. “I think I’m good. How about we go get some cronuts and a Frappuccino? Huh, how does that sound?” I smile softly in an attempt to cool her down before she goes full Hulk.
Her eyes visibly lighten, and she shrugs, flipping her curly black hair over her shoulder. “I guess I could go for something like that…” With extra suavity, she flips her purple leather Prada handbag over her shoulder and adjusts her Gucci sunglasses even though we’re inside and the sun is barely in the sky. “But not before we hit up a few more stores. My closet needs some more flair.” She lifts her chin and saunters off, swinging her hips side to side.
“May the Lord have mercy on my soul,” I mutter under my breath before running to catch up with her and her impossibly long strides. I a
m forever grateful I wore my ultra-comfortable boots today. “Maybe we can get you some Uggs instead…?” I lamely suggest in a low voice.
She cackles and pats my head before harshly pulling me into her chest. “You are such a doll.” She abruptly kisses my head and pats my head again. “God, I love ya.”
***
By the time we arrive at the food court, my weight has dramatically been increased by the plentiful shopping bags on my forearms. Some are mine since I actually did need some more clothes. But the rest are hers. I find it quite dubious that she needs so many clothes. Doesn’t her closet overflow?
A good thing though is that I finally got my hair done. I had it trimmed just by one and a half inches and had it styled like beach waves and added a few lighter shades here and there. I really like the look, and so does Jaimie. She added bangs and had hers dyed darker, if that’s even possible.
She looks like a fashionista, while I look softer. The difference between us is tremendous, but our friendship has grown to the point that I feel I can talk to her about a lot of things.
After she gets her treats and I get a salad, we find empty seats and sit down. We have to pull up three more chairs to set her bags down in. But once they are settled and we are too, we begin to relax our tired feet and sore shoulders. We should really be lounging in massage chairs for better results, but I guess sitting at all is all right.
“So how is Grey in bed?” Jaimie asks.
I almost choke on my water. I try to regain my breathing for five whole minutes before I finally have the strength to talk.
“What?” I squeak. She snorts, smiling as she pops one of her beloved mini-cronuts into her mouth. “What kind of question is that?”
Grey: The Infatuation (Spectrum Series Book 2) Page 22
