Page 8

CHAPTER 8

Grayson

I sighed as the incessant beeping from my phone echoed in the empty air of my humble abode.

I wasn’t usually home at this hour of the day, but the corporate gods had decided to grace me with a three days off in a row this week.

I was still skeptical if Caroline and Sven would be able to hold down Shimmer , the bridal boutique I’d been working at for the last ten years.

Truthfully, I loved my job, I really did. I enjoyed every aspect of previewing the dresses and the wedding pantsuits too. I enjoyed styling women from all walks of life, and watching them completely come undone when they set their eyes on the one . When they saw themselves for the first time in that perfect gown, when they realized everything they knew was going to change.

Hell, I even loved dealing with the drama behind the desk, and gossiping with my co-workers. I knew how to manage Shimmer. What I didn’t know how to do, apparently, was manage my fucking life.

I still couldn’t believe I’d been such a lush the night prior, and not only that, I’d made a gigantic fool of myself in front of Henry, which shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did.

For some reason I cared what he thought. But thankfully, another rampant ding pulled me from my pity party, and I prepared to gloat in all my glory, expecting Caroline to message me with sad emojis because she was utterly incapable of running the show without someone telling her what to do.

And Sven is about as useful as a bag of rocks.

Very pretty rocks, but I digress...

Only, when I opened my notifications, I saw it wasn’t my ill-fated co-workers who were messaging me with pleas to save them. It was my sister.

Honestly, I still don’t know which would have been worse.

I sighed indignantly, knowing it was best to respond to her.

Apologies, I was out and only just got back. What’s up?

Giselle tapped away quickly, sending me the eyeballs emoji.

And where were you at the tender hour of 9am on your day off?

A part of me debated lying to her, but I also knew better than to try and keep anything from my sister. She could smell a fib a mile away, even through text. So I shrugged, bit my lip and just let the cat out of the bag. It was better that way, at least then I could control the narrative.

If you must know, the martinis landed me on Henry’s couch last night.

I waited for the onslaught of her words, and sure enough, she fired them off without haste.

You what? I thought you had a ride... you said... wait, you didn’t...

I rolled my eyes.

Please, I’m not that easy, Giselle!

I texted her back. I did nothing of the sort, and Henry was a complete gentlemen. A perfect prince charming. Drove me home and put me up for the night.

I paused, wanting to say more, which was odd.

I never really felt the desire to spill all my secrets and feelings to my sister. Usually, I only gave her the bare minimum of information, but it seemed after Henry’s home cooked breakfast... and the close proximity against his door... I was feeling uncharacteristically off. Maybe I was still drunk.

Well, hopefully you won’t be too hungover to join Aaron and I for dinner tonight.

I fell back against the couch, the cushions squeaking. The memory of Henry’s soft couch cradling me threatened to erupt in my brain, but I pushed it away.

Now was not the time to grieve over such things.

Just you and Aaron? I asked, twisting my lips in suspicion.

Every Sunday, up until Mom had her surgery, rain or shine, we had family dinner. And even if I didn’t want to admit it, when I was living on my own, it was always nice to come home at least once a week and catch up with my sister, and devour my mom’s delectable desserts.

But those dinners were a thing of the past now, and my sister seemed to want to pick up the torch, which shouldn’t have bothered me, but...

Being over at Giselle’s was like stepping into the world I wanted, but knew I couldn’t have. And as much as I was proud of my sister for all she’d accomplished, and the life she and her groom-to-be had built, if my parents were in the room, I’d never hear the end of it.

The tiny little digs at my job, at my perpetual singleness, my perpetual failure to launch.

Mom and Dad are coming too, duh.

I leaned my head back on the couch cushion, debating how to answer. It wasn’t like I didn’t see enough of them already, but going over for dinner was a level of self-inflicted trauma I wasn’t sure I was up for at the moment.

My sister must have taken my pause for urgency, because she tapped out two texts in rapid succession.

Please, Grayson... it would mean a lot to me to have all of you here.

It’ll be just like old times, I promise.

Leave it to my sister to lay on the dramatics. Maybe it was her pleading, maybe it was because for a moment I dared to hope it could be like the good old days.

Before I’d embarrassed myself and my family.

Before I knew I’d be alone forever.

I’ll have to get back to you a little later. I’m in desperate need of a shower right now.

It was a shitty response, but I was getting too close for comfort. And I really did need a shower.

I meant what I said to Henry. His hospitality was more than spent, and I didn’t expect to start showering at his place and walking around it like I lived there or something. No, as far as I was concerned, he’d done his part, and I needed to take care of myself.

But I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t find some sort of twisted satisfaction in the way he took my shoes off, the way he covered me, making sure I was comfortable.

The way he took care of me.

The memories flooded me, hazy as I remembered how close he’d been to me. The heat from his breath warmed my skin, and his lips looked so deliciously plump, the desire to suck on them, to kiss them was like a living breathing entity all its own.

And for a moment, he looked at me with the same hunger, the same desire, and I leaned in just a fraction...

Fucking hell.

I peeled myself off the couch. Maybe my sister was right; maybe I was that easy. Pump me full of a few drinks and I’ll fall to my knees for prince charming.

But there wouldn’t be any falling on any knees. Not now, and certainly not in my future since I’d probably fucked that up too.

I waltzed through the quiet house, until I’d come to my bathroom, relishing in the privacy. My father was religious about his job—I guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree there—and my mother spent most of her days volunteering at the local Jasper Springs Library.

Until four thirty, I had the Sanderson estate all to myself.

Sliding into the shower as the hot steam filled the room was a welcome relief.

Instantly, I let out a groan, letting the water rush over my chilled skin.

My memory was hazy at best, but I could still remember that look Henry gave me, the way his gaze fell to my lips, how his Adam’s apple bobbed just before he’d parted his lips.

Before he’d walked away.

My cock stood at attention almost immediately upon his memory, and I sighed in defeat.

That wasn’t what I came here for.

But I was alone, and I was hot, and I knew the release would feel good. And after the night—and awkward morning—I’d had, I wanted to feel better.

So, I closed my eyes as I wrapped my hand around my cock, slowly stroking my shaft as I let my mind wander.

I let Henry’s image fill my brain, of him on his knees before me, hands undressing me. Only this time in my vision, he didn’t stop at my shoes. This time he painstakingly took his time, unlatching my belt, unzipping my pants...

Fuck.

My cock twitched at the thought of Henry and his long fingers playing at the buttons of my chinos, unzipping me.

Wrapping said fingers around my swollen, leaking head.

A deep, unrelenting grunt escaped my throat and I snapped my hips, picking up more rhythm, thrusting my cock faster into my fist, as I let my fantasies take flight.

I imagined his fingertips brushing over my slit, gathering my wetness before sliding those pretty fingers into his perfect mouth, where I could watch him lick and suck my precum off his coated digits.

And then I imagined kissing him, letting my tongue roll over his, biting, sucking at his bottom lip like a goddamned lollipop until I could taste myself. I imagined his wet cock sliding against my own, hard and slick, erupting over the both of us.

I nearly slid against the tile as my orgasm pushed forth, the sound of ecstasy leaving my throat a strained, deep sound that was somewhere between a moan and a plea for mercy.

My cock pulsed, throbbing as I came and I tried to catch my breath.

It felt like forever until I’d gone soft, until I’d come back down from whatever dimension my astronomical orgasm had taken me to. Water ran down my face, down my arms and chest, washing away my fantasies like the sins they truly were.