Page 51 of All I Have Left

EVIE

G rayson tosses a package of condoms at me on the bed where I’m lying and feeling sorry for my tender skin. I should have used sunscreen yesterday. “Your brother was in the truck waiting at the gas station when I bought these.”

I watch him move around the side of the bed, his shorts hanging low on his hips. “Did he say anything?”

He snorts, his eyes on my nearly naked, freshly showered and sunburnt body. “No.”

And then he hands me a bottle of lotion.

“I thought we were past hand jobs?”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s for your sunburn, smartass.”

Sitting up, I yank my robe off, leaving me naked in front of him.

His eyes rake down my chest, lower, and then the smirk twists his lips. He chews on the corner of his lips, his palms flat against the mattress.

I hold the lotion up. “Will you put some on my back?”

Nodding, he crawls onto the bed and motions for me to roll over on my stomach. No words are said between us, the only sounds the squirt of the lotion, and our breathing. He’s gentle, an aching touch so familiar .

After he applies a couple of coats, I lift my head. “That’s good.”

Moving back, he sits back on his heels, his hands on his knees. I roll over, lie back, spread out before him. His hands fall from his knees and he reaches out to grasp my legs. With one tug, I’m two feet closer, my legs spread and ready for him.

I drop my eyes to his hips and the obvious bulge present.

I wonder what he sees when he looks at me like this.

A girl broken but needing an escape?

If it wasn’t for the sound of the air-conditioner humming in the background, I would think time is standing still as we stare at one another, neither one of us moving.

Here, we’ve been so worked up over the last few days and now that there’s a box of condoms on the bed, neither one of us know what the fuck to do. Reaching up, Grayson runs his hand over his face. “We’re quite the fucking pair, aren’t we?”

I laugh. “It’s a bit awkward, huh?”

“I can’t think of what I’m supposed to do next.” He laughs, his shoulders shaking as he drops his hand to his knee again.

I reach for the box. “I think you put one of these on if I remember correctly.”

He knocks the box out of my hand with a flick of his hand and shifts forward, hovering over me, his eyes glowing with excitement.

His forehead rests against mine. “I have a pretty good idea of what I’m supposed to do.

” Placing his hand on the back of my neck, he lifts and reveals my neck for him, his tongue gliding across my exposed skin. “But is this what you want?”

“I’ve told you a million times now, it’s what I want.”

He gives me his weight, his erection digging into my center, concealed in his shorts. I work my hand between us, inside his shorts and grip his cock firmly.

Tipping his head back, his hips buck into my hand, a groan falling from his lips. His legs widen as he rocks into my hand, our eyes connecting. “Are you scared?” I ask, wondering where the sudden hesitation is coming from .

He nods, his breathing heavier. Reaching between us, he removes my hand and then sits up completely, yanking off his shorts.

Okay, so we’re doing this. Awesome. I watch with rapt attention as he reveals himself to me.

I’ve seen it, a few times now, but to see him this close, hard, and ready, it’s a little more than I’m anticipating.

I want to… give him a blow job, but the idea of putting my mouth on a man like that again sends a wave of nausea rolling through me.

Grayson doesn’t catch on as he reaches for the condom, and kicks his shorts aside.

I don’t know why, but I look over at the door when I hear footsteps in the hallway. “You locked the door, right?”

His eyes snap to the door. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Go check.”

Peeling himself off the bed, he checks the door and I watch his ass in the process. It’s perfect. “It’s locked.” He keeps his back to me as he rolls the condom on.

When he returns to the bed, he hovers over me on all fours. I spread my legs and point to my center, winking. “It goes there.”

He shakes his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the cutest smile. “I would have never guessed.”

Sliding his knees apart, he lowers his body to mine. Our chests come together, both of us more nervous than you’d think. But then again, I don’t feel nervous. Instinct and familiarity have kicked in.

He presses his lips to mine, slowly at first, his tongue sliding against my lips.

My lips part and I sigh as his tongue touches mine.

I don’t know why it feels awkward now. Maybe because we’re not drunk, we’re not avoiding any conversations.

It’s just us, bare to each other and vulnerable.

Waiting for the other to make the first move.

Funny enough, it’s a lot like our first time.

When his mouth eases from mine, I run my fingers from his shoulder to his temple. “Do you remember our first time?”

He pulls back, his dark eyes intense. “Yeah,” he croaks, his voice rougher than before. “Why? ”

I search his face. “Just curious.”

He releases a slow breath. “Do you?”

“Every single minute of it.”

His lips quirk at the corners, his body trembling above mine. Sighing, his forehead leans into my shoulder. “Goddamn it. This is frustrating.”

“What’s wrong?” Fear pricks my skin. Suddenly I wonder if we’ve rushed this too quickly for him. “We don’t have to do this.”

Lifting his head, he stares at me in disbelief, then says, his brow furrowed in almost anger, “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“Then what is it?”

I don’t get my answer. Immediately his mouth is on mine, harder this time. At first, I’m caught off guard by it, but when he whispers, “It’s hard to draw a line between wanting to fuck you.” He kisses my jaw. “And make love to you.”

His logic makes sense. I imagine it’s not easy to judge how we’re supposed to navigate this.

But hearing him say “fuck me” sends a thrill through me I’m not expecting.

“Do whatever it is you want,” I whisper, my breaths heavy when I feel him at my entrance now, the head of him putting pressure on my opening.

I see it on his face, like maybe I didn’t say what he wanted because he winces. I exhale and watch his face, his reaction to what happens next, and if he will. My heart beats in every part of my body, my pulse throbbing between my legs.

Grayson exhales heavily and leans to the right, his weight shifting. His shaking hand moves between us. His gaze scrolls over my face as he says quietly, “I love you.” His expression is sincere. His words even more so because this guy, his words mean everything. They’re true and honest.

“I love you.” My heart thrashes in my chest and with a grunt, he pushes forward. I want to cry, to fucking moan, but all I can do is pant. I feel his lips next, his breath hot against mine as his mouth devours mine. His palms slide down my hips, over my thighs and to my knees, widening my legs .

“So which is it?”

“What?”

“Are you fucking me or making love?”

His thrusts come quicker, driving deeper than before. “What do you think?”

I hold his face in my hands. “I think I just fell in love with you more.”

He collapses on top of me, pressing his face into the curve of my neck. “Goddamn,” he grunts. His hips jerk, a tremble to his movements.

My body gives in to his completely. His tongue dives deeper into my mouth and I swallow his groans.

Gasping, his mouth falls from mine and his lips barely touch mine, but he doesn’t kiss me.

He moves slower, his breathing hard. Our chests move in uneven unison, and I can feel his lips form a smile.

“I’m trying so fucking hard not to come. ”

“I think that’s what’s supposed to happen.” I wiggle underneath him, smiling, and he laughs into my neck, the vibration of it so familiar. My hips grind into him, deepening the connection.

And then it happens, a spark through the sky lighting up the room and I realize what’s happening outside. They’re lighting the rest of the fireworks they brought, a spray of color—red and blue—lighting the dimly lit room.

Immediately, at the first crack and a loud resonating pop that vibrates the windows, Grayson tenses, his body hard and rigid at the sound.

Leaning into his arm that’s bent beside my head, his movements speed, his face buried in the pillow.

His other hand moves from my hip to the pillow where he fists it.

It bunches behind my neck, uncomfortably but I realize quickly that him squeezing that pillow is better than hurting me.

Not that I think he would, that’s not Grayson, but I’m thankful he recognizes the shift in his mindset.

Staring up at the ceiling, my mouth meets his shoulder and then his ear. “It’s okay,” I whisper, holding onto him tightly.

He moves desperately, driving into me faster than before. We match each other’s pace, colliding in sync with breaths and movements, moans and cries, but I know it’s not going to last like this.

“Fuck,” he breathlessly grunts in my ear, his voice throaty and sexy. It’s almost a pained sound that leaves his lips. I realize very quickly that it is a pained sound. He’s shaking so badly that his body is vibrating to the point he can barely keep from collapsing against me.

With every crack from the fireworks outside, his body reacts more intensely.

I can feel the tears coming and I’m so mad right now, but not at Grayson. I want to stop, and we probably should have but he refuses.

“Grayson, if you want stop….” Tears sting my throat and I begin to cry, for him, for me, for us, but he doesn’t stop. Every time I say we should, he shakes his head, trying to fight it through whatever it is happening inside him.

Our eyes meet, and he stares at me, eyes locked, yet I feel so far away from him despite being connected physically.

I touch his cheek. “Stay with me. You’re okay.” But he’s a thousand miles away, his eyes blank and I know I’m too late.

I want to crawl inside him and take cover, knowing his own demons are coming ashore, but he won’t let me.

“We should stop,” I say again.

He shakes his head again; the emotional struggle being played out before me hard to watch.

His controlled mask of emotions slips and I can see the vulnerability and panic in his eyes and facial expression.

He squeezes his eyes shut as another crack of color bursts through the room.

“No,” he growls, resisting, his chest heaving with a breath.

I’ve never seen him like this, so violent in pleasure and anger at the same time. “I’m gonna come.”

The room flashes with another burst of light, and then the crack.

His rhythm breaks and his heart beats so fast I can feel it thumping against my chest. With his head buried in my shoulder, his thrusts speed, become almost frantic until suddenly every muscle in his body clenches and he stills on top of me.

I can feel him pulsing and the way he jerks inside me, but it’s not enough to take away my fear.

I rein in the rush of emotions that flood through me at his reaction. I don’t know what to say, or do, so I wait to see what his reaction will be.

Sighing, he puts his head at my ear, kissing the lobe and whispers, “I’m sorry,” but it comes out strangled and breathless.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he says again, his body practically convulsing above mine.

Easing out of me, he rolls to the side, turned away from the windows.

Taking the pillow next to him, he covers his face with it, fisting the fabric in his shaking hands.

“FUCK!” he screams into it, the veins in his neck bulging, every single muscle in his body tight.

The sound of his scream vibrates through me having never seen him react like this.

The sight of him so vulnerable knocks the wind out of me.

I know I should leave the room and make the explosions in the sky stop, but I’m too afraid to leave him.

I sit up and a chill runs down my back and it has nothing to do with the air-conditioning.

Reaching for the sheet, I cover my chest. “Are you okay? Do you want me to tell them to them to stop?”

He gives no reply, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his entire frame rigid.

I’m learning a few things about these distractions. They’re good. But there’s a reason it’s called a distraction. It’s not permanent. The memories find their way through the cracks at the most inopportune times.