Page 42 of All I Have Left

EVIE

W ith the windows rolled down in Grayson’s truck, the humid night air swirls through the cab.

It’s around midnight when we leave the bar. It isn’t long before Grayson pulls off the highway about a half mile onto a dirt road between some overgrown trees. My stomach drops a little, uncertain. The last time… well, I don’t want to think about the last time a guy did this.

Pulling forward about another hundred feet down the road, Grayson turns the truck off, his hands and head resting on the steering wheel. “Are you okay?” I ask, sensing something wrong.

“I think I need to sober up a little. Dad will kill me if he knew I drove like this, with you in the truck.”

“Oh.” I laugh, adjusting my dress. “Okay.”

Leaning back, he runs his hands over his face, sighing. “I think it all hit me at once.”

“We drank a lot,” I remind him, watching his body move.

God, he’s so incredibly sexy. Look at those arm muscles! Drooling over here.

With flushed cheeks, his head rests against the back window. He turns to look over at me, his eyes slowly raking over my body as he runs his hand through his hair.

I don’t know what possess me to do this, probably the arm muscles, but I unbuckle myself and practically launch my body on to his lap. With a laugh, he grunts when I straddle his hips. Scooting over to the center of the seat, he smiles in the darkness. “Trying to distract me?”

“It could work.”

I maneuver myself sideways on his lap, my legs on the bench seat where I was once sitting. My arms slide around his neck. “It could definitely work,” he says, his voice strained.

There’s a small part of me that’s trying to block out Shane and what he made me do in his car. And maybe that’s why I’m doing this. Blocking out the bad with good. I have to get over that. This isn’t Shane. This is Grayson and he’d never force me to do anything.

Placing both his hands on either side of my face, he presses his lips to mine. It doesn’t take long for our kisses to become urgent again and full of desire. This time there is no one around. We don’t have to stop if we don’t want to.

One of his hands slides down my shoulder, the other grips the nape of my neck as his kisses deepen. His right hand continues to move south until it’s on my thigh, then starts sliding up under my dress. It’s slow enough that if it isn’t what I want, he knows I’ll stop him.

My breath shakes, my body trembling as I lean into his embrace further, wanting everything he’s giving. Shifting on his lap, my hip rubs against him and I can feel his erection.

His breath catches and he groans, his head falling back against the back window. “Jesus Christ. I don’t want to stop.”

I feel the same and take advantage of his exposed neck, trailing kisses along the curve. With a grunt, he pushes into me again, letting me feel exactly what I’m doing to him.

The windows are fogging up, hands and mouths remembering the warmth, a love bound in this very truck where we first made-out in the parking lot at The Point two weeks after he bought it.

I remember it very clearly. I straddled him, he kissed me, and that night, sixteen years old, we almost didn’t stop.

I think the only reason we did was because neither of us knew what we were doing.

Grayson’s hand moves higher, trembling as he pushes and pulls me against his pelvis. Once his fingers reach the edge of my panties, he pauses, his lashes flickering. “Should I stop?” he asks, a tremble to his words with his ragged breathing.

It’s my turn to not say anything. I smile and grasp his wrist and guide him exactly where I want him.

With a familiar gentleness he has when it comes to me, he edges my panties aside, his fingertips so tender and delicate.

As he slowly lets his finger explore, I moan when he finds the most sensitive spot. His thumb brushes the bundle of nerves and he inserts two fingers inside me. That’s when I moan. Downright freaking moan in his ear. It’s loud too.

“You’re perfect.” A deep rumble vibrates through him, his mouth finding mine again. Our kisses are sloppy, two people desperate to explore the connection they’ve been avoiding until now.

In the back of my mind, I begin to wonder how much further things can go in his truck. Of course I want more; he obviously does too. I try to figure out the logistics of it and remember I don’t have any condoms, and knowing Grayson, I doubt he does either.

I twist toward him more, trying to rub my ass cheek over him to see what that will do.

He doesn’t move his hand but this position gives him better access and excites him even more.

He’s breathing short jagged breaths, and to be fair, mine isn’t any better.

Pressure builds between my legs and I know where this is heading.

With little effort on his part, he brings me to orgasm. Something I haven’t achieved since him.

In the process of this, somehow, my hand makes it inside Grayson’s unbuttoned pants to his cock. He gasps into my mouth when I wrap my hand around the base and stroke him .

“Evie… what…?” He doesn’t finish his words before his eyes flutter closed and his body trembles.

Once my hand is down there, I realize this is the first time I have actually felt him with no clothes in the way. Even when we had sex, I never touched him down there.

Straddling him now, I angle my hand to gain better access.

Lifting up, he pushes his jeans down past his hips and I know what he wants.

This, or sex. I want to have sex with him.

I do, so badly, but I don’t know that I’m ready for that.

So I stroke him, up and down, hoping that’s enough.

He adjusts my hand once and breathes out, “Faster. I’m gonna come. ”

Within a minute, he lets out a loud grunt, his entire body tensing beneath me. I know what’s happening. His body begins to jerk and shake against me, then becomes rigid, his legs tensing underneath me.

Sticky warm wetness spills on my hand, and I grin.

Slumping against me, he lets out a laugh. “That’s one way to sober up.” He’s still kissing my neck and trying to slow his own breathing; it’s not helping. He’s still breathing heavy. Every once in a while, he chuckles at his futile attempts and then I start laughing.

Sliding off him, I stare at my hand covered in his cum. Grayson leans forward to underneath his seat where there’s a towel. “Sorry about that.” His voice is gravelly, unlike his usual soft Southern tone. I take it, wipe my hand off and he does the same. When I don’t say anything, he sighs.

“Hey.” Gently placing his hand under my chin, he lifts my head so that I’m looking at him. “Are you okay? Did you not want to do that?” He sighs, his jaw tight. “Fuck… I should have asked you first.” Regret and concern crush his face. “I—”

“No, I don’t regret it,” I assure him. “Not at all. I guess I was just…. It all happened so fast. I wasn’t sure what we were doing. I… well, I don’t know.”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I wouldn’t have fucked you in my truck, Evie. Give me some credit here. ”

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “If I would have asked, you would have.”

“I would’ve at least put you in the truck bed. There’s more room out there,” he teases with a cocky grin, watching me.

I elbow him in the stomach. “Always an answer.”

He laughs again, catching my hand with his own and tugs.

I meet his eyes. “I was just about to stop us, but I thought why not let you have a little pleasure out of it and then somehow, you put your hand….” He lets his eyes fall to his lap.

“Before I knew it, I couldn’t stop what was happening.

” He pauses as if deciding what to say again.

“Actually, I could have, but didn’t want to.

” He clarifies, kissing me again. “I spent three years alone. I’m a little worked up. ”

At least he’s honest. Three years? He hasn’t been with anyone?

I keep asking myself, should I be doing this?

Is it too soon?

Is it normal to want this from Grayson?

I don’t have a direct answer, just that I’m happy with him, and I think that’s all that matters.