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“You, too, Missy,” I say, and I squeeze her.
When I glance up at Grayson, I can’t quite read what’s on his face. But something tells me he likes seeing me with his mom.
I like it, too.
When we pull in front of the Palms, Grayson grabs my hand and leans down toward my ear. “You want me to take you on a date first like last time, or are you ready for me to take you upstairs so I can fuck you?”
My cheeks turn bright red. “Upstairs,” I say stupidly, and he laughs then pulls my hand as we practically run through the casino toward the elevators.
There’s another couple on the elevator this time, so we force ourselves not to make out. When the doors open on our floor, we head down the hallway toward his suite, and the second the door closes behind us, he grabs me into his arms as his lips slam down to mine.
Yes. This. This right here. It’s exactly what I’ve been waiting for all night.
We kiss near the doorway, and he backs us up until I bump into a wall. I’m a little tipsy from the two margaritas I had, but he only had the one beer.
His hands move up and down my torso as I slip my fingers into his hair, and then he wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my neck as he draws in a deep breath.
It’s sweet and romantic, as if he’s breathing me in for sustenance, and I pull back a little as he does, too. His eyes meet mine.
“You were…God. Tonight was perfect, Av. I loved seeing you with my family. I loved knowing this moment would come, that I’d get you back to my hotel room so I could fuck you until neither of us could see straight. I loved the anticipation of wanting to kiss you, wanting to hold you, wanting to sleep next to you. What the fuck are you doing to me?”
I don’t know how to answer that, so I just press my lips to his. The words come as I back up in a haze of lust. “The same thing you’re doing to me.”
His mouth crashes back down to mine, and we kiss there against the wall near the entry for a while. Eventually, he pulls back and lifts my dress over my head, depositing it on the floor beside us. I pull his shirt over his head, too, and drop it on top of my dress, and then I go for his belt buckle.
“Hang on. I’ll be right back.” He disappears for a beat, and when he returns, he’s standing in his boxer briefs and holding a condom and a bottle of what looks like lube. He takes my hand and leads me over toward the couch, and he sets the condom and the bottle down on the cushion while I kick off my shoes. He slides my panties down my legs and unhooks my bra. He pulls his boxer briefs off, too, and we’re both standing naked in the living room of his suite.
He pulls me into his arms, and I feel his cock as it nestles between us. I tip my head back, and our eyes meet, exchanging a heated and intimate moment before he lowers his mouth to mine.
Thrills light up my chest as anticipation for this moment climbs through my spine. I’ve been waiting for another chance at this since we parted ways the last time, and I can’t believe it’s really happening.
He opens his mouth to mine, and he kisses me slowly, that magical tongue of his moving skillfully against mine as I kiss back with everything I have, pushing every longing feeling I’ve had for him for a decade into this kiss.
His scruff is rough against my mouth, and I’m reminded of the way it tickled my thighs earlier. A pulsing ache rockets through my core as he shifts his hips, and then he pulls back, licks his two fingers with his eyes on mine, and he moves his hand down to push those two wet fingers right into me.
I grip onto his shoulders as I close my eyes at the feel, and he grunts as he feels how wet I already am.
“Open your eyes,” he orders, and my eyes fly open as they land on his. “That’s better. I want you looking at me while I finger fuck you. I want you to know who’s doing this to you. I want you thinking only of me.”
“I do only think of you,” I protest, my voice breathless and needy.
“That’s right, you do,” he says, and he shoves his fingers in a little harder. “And this pussy? It’s mine.”
“Yes, Grayson,” I groan as I fight the urge to close my eyes and give into the pressure building.
His eyes flash at me. “I’m the only man who’s ever fucked it.”
“Oh, God,” I moan as he shoves those fingers in and curls them up.
“Tell me it’s mine,” he demands.
“It’s yours. Only yours. Forever yours.” Oh my God. What did I just say? Did I just say forever as if we might have an actual future together?
I expect him to freeze, or freak out, or…something. But that’s not at all what I get.
His eyes grow even more heated as he holds his fingers inside me for a few beats, curling them upward in this way that makes me want to come, but then it all stops.
“Only mine,” he repeats. “Now bend over the couch so I can show you how I take care of what’s mine.”
