Page 26

CHAPTER 26

Grayson

I don’t know why I was so nervous, standing on the precipice of the glamping tent. But my heart was racing as the automatic locks clicked, and I opened the door. Though the sight of shirtless Henry, laying on top of the covers, reading a book—with a handsome, shirtless man on the front nonetheless—settled every nerve in my body.

He did not look up at all, completely engrossed in his tale, and I cautiously approached my dresser. I stood in front of it, and even though I could not see him, I could feel the heat of his gaze.

I removed my shirt first, before tackling my riding pants, which were doing nothing to quell the desire that had already started to percolate at the sight of shirtless Henry in gray sweatpants, reading a book.

Simple things, indeed.

I slid my pants off, turning to catch his deep brown eyes gazing at me over his book.

Shifting my stance, I smirked at him over my shoulder, noticing his gaze was fixated on my ass.

“See something you like?” I teased.

Henry’s gaze flashed to mine, blinking only a few times before he tugged his book higher to hide the flush in his cheeks. But I caught just enough scarlet to know his rebuttal of “no,” was a damn lie.

And for the moment, that was enough.

My sister had mentioned good things took time, and I knew Henry was a good thing.

Waiting wasn’t easy for me, but if it was what Henry needed in order to feel comfortable with this , with me...

I’d wait as long as it took.

I took my time folding my clothes and setting them aside. The world outside us was dark, and the lights of the dome were not bright at all. In fact, the amber glow that touched everything made the dome itself feel far more intimate. It was almost as if we truly weren’t in the middle of the woods. It was like our own private bubble.

I pulled down the sheets, sliding in easily as I lay on my side. I slid closer to Henry, if only to try and discern what it was he was actually reading, checking out the book cover.

“What are you doing?” he asked, fidgeting on top of the covers, but he did not squirm away from me as he had this morning.

“What are you reading?” I asked, and Henry’s eyes narrowed as he clutched his book to his chest.

“I’ll tell you under one condition,” he said evenly.

I leaned on my arm, flipping my hair out of my eyes as I gazed up at him. From this angle, he looked positively ravishing. His dark hair was slightly messy, the amber lights casting a golden glow on his eyes and his natural tan skin. The light grey of his sweatpants contrasted with the softened edges of his hips deliciously. My heart raced, all the blood in my body pooling directly in my stiffening cock as the thought of being underneath this man ravaged me.

I wanted to see this man come undone, and I wanted to be his inevitable undoing as well.

I wanted to watch him writhe beneath me. I wanted to push him right up against the edge, to drive him as mad as he drove me.

And then I wanted to watch his face as he came, knowing the pleasure was all mine.

Mine.

“Anything,” I breathed, far too desperate for my own ears, but I didn’t care. I found the more time I spent in Henry’s presence, I didn’t care how I sounded, or what I looked like, or what I said.

“You have to promise you won’t judge me,” he said, raising his eyebrow.

“Of course, I won’t I—”

“Promise!” he said seriously.

I rolled my eyes, showcasing my crossed fingers in surrender. “Scout’s honor,” I said.

Henry sighed, closing his book, setting it over his lap as he pulled his legs up to his chest.

“It’s about this guy who buys a house and it’s haunted,” he said, gulping nervously.

“And...”

“And the ghost that haunts it is a really sexy gay ghost from, like, the 1900s.”

The urge to laugh was apparent, but I had promised him I wouldn’t. I pursed my lips. “That’s... interesting.” I said, keeping my expression stoic.

“I knew it, you think it’s stupid,” he said rolling his eyes. “I can see it in your eyes, you want to laugh.”

I slid a little closer, and Henry didn’t budge. I slowly, deliberately pulled the book from his lap, looking over the cover and the synopsis.

“I don’t think anything you do is stupid, Henry,” I murmured as I flipped through the pages, stopping on a random page to skim it.

Henry’s breathing increased, and I realized he was nervous.

A part of me liked to see Henry uncomfortable, liked to push his buttons in the way he pushed mine. So, naturally, I did just that.

I started to read a random page out loud, but soon came to the understanding I’d stumbled into a sex scene that was more than graphic.

“Oh my God, stop. Just stop...” Henry cried, covering his face with his hands.

I lowered my voice, making it dark and gruff, keeping an absolute straight face when I got the spicy bits, drawing out the groans and sounds if only to agitate Henry because I found it endearing how he blushed, how he tried to hide the obvious tent in his sweatpants—those things hide nothing—until I was certain I had him on the brink of madness.

“You are insufferable,” he groaned in defeat. “An absolute menace.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I think that’s enough bedtime stories for tonight, don’t you?” I breathed out as I tossed the book on my nightstand, before sliding back to my side of the bed.

Henry shifted from his position on top of the covers, to underneath, cursing under his breath. “And you say I’m the one who’s infuriating,” he murmured.

This time I did laugh.

Henry shut the light off, and settled on his side of the bed, our breathing the only sound in the air.

We must have lain there in that bed for nearly twenty minutes, neither of us ready to fall asleep.

I noticed the shift in Henry’s breathing as he tugged the covers over to his side, and instinctively, I moved toward him, giving up the fight. I cautiously slid my arm over his hip and gently tugged him against me. To my surprise, he didn’t fight my touch, but instead relaxed into my hold, his breaths shaky.

“You are cold,” I said, sliding my leg between his, pulling him back against my warmth.

“I mean, we are in the woods... It gets cold out here...” he murmured. He shifted in my arms as I fought the desire to let my fingers stroke his bare skin, trace lines over his soft edges.

To let my hands wander along the waistband and over his covered...

Henry sighed, turning in my grasp so that he was chest to chest with me. I could see him in the darkness, the only light that of the lanterns outside casting a faint fiery silhouette on him.

“Grayson... I...” His voice was soft, barely a whisper. Then, I felt the faintest touch on my hip. A familiar warm palm rested against my exposed skin, and a sigh of relief escaped him.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Henry. I need...” I sighed in defeat of my own. “I need you to know that, okay?” I whispered, even though there was no need.

Henry pulled himself closer. I could feel his hardness against me, spurring me into arousal once more.

“Okay,” Henry whispered.

Just as I thought this would end the way it usually did—with Henry getting jumpy and fleeing the scene, I was surprised.

Henry leaned in and kissed me.

But this kiss was different than the one we’d shared earlier, in the woods.

That had been a rush. Wild, unfettered, and brand new. But the way Henry kissed me now, as his hands slowly explored my stomach, my chest, my neck, and even my face, was something so much better.

His lips moved slowly against mine, his tongue slipping into my mouth with ease as he carefully caressed mine, sucking on my lower lip as he thrust himself against me, eliciting a deep, contented moan to bubble from my throat that I was powerless to stop.

I ran my hand over his perfect ass, gripping it as I thrust myself against his rigid hardness. I slid my hand beneath his waistband, just enough to feel the warmth of his skin against my palm.

A deep sigh escaped him as I let my fingers stroke his skin.

“You like that?” I breathed, slowly and as gently as possible tracing lines over his hip with my fingertips. “You like it when I touch you like this?” I asked as I ran my fingers over his heated skin.

Henry nodded as he kissed me again. He bit at my lower lip, sucking the flesh into his mouth as his clothed cock throbbed against mine.

“Yes,” he breathed.

I trailed my hand over his stomach, letting my fingers brush against the trail of hair, teasing him. I meant what I’d said, and I didn’t want to go any further without Henry’s expressed consent.

“You can tell me to stop, if it’s too much,” I whispered into his mouth. “You don’t owe me anything,” I reminded him. Though I hoped he wouldn’t shut down what was happening between us, because it felt better than good.

It felt right ... in a way it never felt with anyone else.

Henry’s hand slid between us, and I half worried he was going to push me away, but instead, he leisurely slid his hand beneath the opening in my boxers, gripping my aching cock in his palm, squeezing just the slightest, and I shuddered with ecstasy.

The touch, his touch, was overwhelming.

“Henry,” I groaned into his mouth.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he whispered, his thumb brushing my wet slit, spreading my precum over my swollen head.

“I just...” he breathed against me, his words full of hope, fear, and promise.

“What is it?” I asked, kissing him again. “You can tell me.”

“I haven’t wanted anyone like I want you… in a long time,” he whispered.

“Fuck, Henry...” I moaned in defeat.

Henry wrapped his hand around my shaft, his warm palm squeezing me rhythmically.

“I want you too, Henry,” I whispered, letting my lips travel from his mouth to his jaw, his neck.

With his free hand, he grabbed my forearm, pushing me lower. It wasn’t much of a push, and I found Henry’s sizeable erection rather quickly. I let my fingers trace its length, marveling at the texture of his thickness, committing to memory the feel of his veins and the thickness of his shaft.

The sound that escaped his lips was something like a cry and a moan all at once. I ran my thumb across his wet slit, spreading it in the same way he did to me.

“Make... make me come... Grayson, I’m so...”

“You didn’t say please ,” I said, my voice gravelly and dark, nipping at his lips.

Henry thrust himself against me greedily as he stroked my shaft, which was now fully out of its boxer prison. His hand wrapped tightly around my shaft and I ground myself against him, fucking his hand until the head of my leaking cock brushed against his rough palm.

Fucking hell, Henry likes to play dirty!

“Please, Grayson...” he moaned into my mouth.

I wanted to feel his skin against mine, but I also didn’t want to ruin this perfect moment.

I quickened my pace as I stroked him, squeezing in intervals. His cock throbbed in my hands, swollen and thick, and I could only imagine how it would feel in my mouth, cutting off my airway.

Fuuuuck....

“Oh fuck, Grayson, I’m—”

I covered Henry’s mouth with mine, knowing I was about to come too.

Henry collapsed into my kiss, his entire body melting as his hot, wet release coated my hand, sliding through my fingers. His cock pulsed in my grip, and I came with an unrelenting growl, thrusting myself against his hold as I spilled myself in his hand.

I kissed Henry with promise, with hope. We were both a hot and sticky mess, but it felt like everything was different, and a good different.

Like we’d finally crossed some invisible line and everything was going to change.

And as we lay there, in blissful post-orgasm ecstasy, tangled together, I had never felt such peace.

I only hoped that when we woke up tomorrow, that peace would still be there.