Page 43 of All I Have Left

EVIE

A fter we get back to his house around one, Grayson and I intend on watching a movie but once we’re alone in his room, he has other plans. It seems he didn’t get enough in the truck because he’s on top of me before the opening credits roll, palming my breasts and kissing with intent.

His voice shakes and flutters in a delicious rhythm as he whispers, “I should sleep on the couch tonight.”

I whimper in reply, grasping his biceps and widening my legs. “No, don’t go.”

“You and I both know where this is heading if I don’t.

” His lips work in perfect unison against my own.

With his hair falling into his eyes, he hitches my leg around his waist, pushing himself deeper between my legs.

He groans, and my head falls back against the pillow, exposing my neck for his taking.

He makes his way over my shoulder, his tongue sliding along my collarbone.

We move together, his hips grinding against mine, his hands kneading the skin of my lower back before gripping my waist to create the friction.

I moan against his heated skin, which spurs him on further, pinning me against the mattress, holding my arms firmly over my head with one hand.

His touch, it’s not rough, but it sends a thrill through me to see the muscles in his arms flexing as he holds me still.

With his eyes on mine, I can see the war raging inside him, but he doesn’t stop.

His free hand trails down the length of my upper body until it reaches the hem of his old baseball shirt I have on.

Carefully, he slides it over my head, leaving me in my bra, his hooded beautiful eyes narrowed in on me. “You are so fucking pretty.”

Biting down on my lower lip, I shake my head. With the flickering of the television the only light in the room, it’s enough that it illuminates the want in him. “No, you are.”

Slowly, he bends forward and gives me his weight, his lips dragging lightly over my jaw. He chuckles when I whine that he’s not kissing me but eventually his warm lips meet my own. He kisses me slower this time, which sends a jolt of electricity between my legs.

Frustrated, I yank at his shirt. Pulling back, he takes it off, and I start to tug at the basketball shorts he’s wearing, trying to slide them off.

He shakes his head and places my hand back on the mattress, his lips swollen, cheeks flushed and hot to the touch. “We can’t have sex.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not ready.” He drops his lips back to my neck. “And I don’t have any condoms.”

“Frankie does.” My hands creep around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

He rolls over pulling me on top of him so I’m straddling him. His hold prevents me from moving forward. “I am not getting condoms from my sister.”

Smiling, I unclasp his hands, rocking back and forth against him. His eyes close and with the distraction, I reach for the band of his shorts again. “I’m on birth control.”

“No…,” he grunts, shaking his head in disapproval, his voice husky, heated with lust, his eyes dark and hungry.

“We gotta slow do wn.” He rolls me over so he’s hovering over me again, still moving against my hips.

Even though he keeps trying to say we should stop, it’s obvious that he doesn’t want to.

And then I think, what if he doesn’t want to go without a condom because of Shane. That’s probably a real possibility, isn’t it? I can’t say I blame him on that one. I haven’t been checked out recently.

Every time he tries to pull away, he comes back with that much more intensity. Soon, his shorts do come off and he’s in his boxer briefs and I’m barely holding onto my bra and panties.

Tightening my legs around his waist, I pull him closer, kiss him more passionately. I don’t know what’s changed inside me, but I desperately want this now. Each kiss answers the unspoken question he has as to whether or not I’m ready for this.

Without warning, Grayson stops and gently pushes me off him. Sitting up, he runs his hands over his face, sighing. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. We can’t do this right now. I—”

“But I want to, Grayson.” I cut him off. Deep down, I have no idea if that’s true.

He peers over at me, the flickering of the television dancing in his eyes. “For me, or you?”

“Both of us,” I answer immediately. “If you can’t tell, I was pretty into it.” I motion to my panties. “I’m soaked.”

“Fuck.” He tosses his head back dramatically and right into his headboard. Hard. Then he starts laughing.

Smiling, I rub the spot on his head, straddling him again.

With his hands firmly on my hips, he halts any movement I try to make.

“I want to too. More than you can possibly fucking imagine. It’s literally all I can think about lately.

But we need to take it slower.” I swallow, watching his face as he speaks.

“I know you think you want this, but you’ve been through—” He pauses, as if he can’t bring himself to say the word miscarriage.

“We shouldn’t ignore that. I’m being an idiot here. ”

I give him a look. Okay, I pout. “Is it because you want me to have a test first?”

He raises an eyebrow. “A test? What do you mean?”

“To see if he gave me something.” I drop my eyes to my hands on his chest. “I can totally understand if that’s what you want. He definitely wasn’t one for wearing condoms. I got on birth control after the miscarriage in February.” Holy hell, I can’t believe I’m saying all this.

“Evie, no.” He blows out a breath. “That’s not at all what I’m worried about.

You’re my concern. You and only you . The shit he put you through, we can’t ignore that and we are.

We’re so caught up in fucking hormones that we’re not seeing the real issues here.

I don’t want to do wrong by you and if we do this, and it’s too much, I don’t want you resenting me. ”

Groaning, I ease off him and lie on the bed. “God, why do you have to be such a fucking gentleman all the time?”

He snorts. “Like I said, you wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what I was thinking.”

My teeth sink into my lip and heat rushes through me. “What are you thinking? At least give me those details.”

He watches my lips, his eyes hooded with desire he tries so desperately to contain. “That you’re trouble.”

“I need more details than that.” I slip my hand lower, to inside my panties. If he’s not going to have sex with me, maybe I can torture him a little.

The very second he realizes what I’m doing, his eyes widen. “That’s not fucking fair at all.”

“Tell me or I’m going to get myself off and you can’t touch me.”

His jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing. His breath comes out in a grunt as he shifts beside me so he’s lying on his side. “That I want my mouth where your hand is.”

“And?” I tremble, working my fingers against my pussy.

Believe it or not, when we were fifteen, Grayson and I masturbated in front of each other.

We never ever talked about it again, but it was in the middle of the night, no lights on, but I distinctly remember the grunts he made, the bed shaking from our movements and when he came, he cursed for the first time.

I’d never heard the word fuck fall from his lips until that night.

And I think, maybe he’s remembering that night too because his hand moves inside his boxers, stoking himself. “This is worse than the first time we did this.”

“Why?” I breathe, arching my back, a familiar tremble to my thighs.

“Because I know what it’s like to be inside you now.

” His husky voice sends shivers through my entire body, leaving me trembling for more from a single statement.

He turns his head, his hot mouth open against my shoulder, his hand moving faster.

He holds his boxers down just past his balls, and I watch with intent as he strokes himself.

It’s the hottest, most erotic image ever to watch a man masturbate in front of you.

“It’s fucking torture,” he pants, his stomach muscles tightening.

I blink slowly, unable to tear my eyes away from his. “Do you want me to stop?”

“As much as I should say no…” He shakes his head, swallowing hard. “I want to see you come again.”

That does it. That and the sight of him jerking off beside me. Goddamn . “Do you think of me when you do this by yourself.”

“I don’t do this by myself.”

I quirk an eyebrow at him and he laughs, his eyes glowing in the white light filtering between us.

His tongue darts out to lick my shoulder, and the faintest scrape of his teeth follows. “Every time,” he pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Have you thought of me like this?”

“All the time. I’ve never gotten off, or had sex, without thinking of you.”

I’m not sure if my comment about sex bothers him, but there’s a distinct flash of anger in his eyes that even in the darkness, I can’t miss. I’m so wet I can barely keep my fingers in the right spot needed, but the imagery is enough to do it for me. I hold out until he whispers, “Are you close?”

I nod. “Come with me,” I breathe, working my fingers faster.

He swallows hard, his hand moving faster, and then he hunches forward, his shoulders rising off the bed as his entire upper body shakes. “I’m coming.”

And then I do, too, my eyes on him the entire time.

After a few minutes, Grayson’s still holding himself when I burst out laughing. “What the fuck is wrong with us?”

He laughs, slightly breathless. “So much.”

It’s times like this, moments between us, alone, that it’s easy to believe life doesn’t exist outside this.

Too bad that isn’t true, but it’s nice to at least pretend for those moments.