Page 69 of The Ampersand Effect

Tobin moaned as Grier squeezed herself through their joined hands, answering with her own low, guttural moan. Grier reared backward, angling her pelvis to apply pressure between her thighs. She bore down against Tobin’s hips, breaking the kiss and releasing her grip on Tobin’s hand—though Tobin gratefully kept contact, pressing her palm firmly to Grier’s bra-clad breast. Her nipples swelled against the fabric.

Grier cupped Tobin’s chin and kissed her deeply, claiming her lips like she intended to claim every inch of her. She rocked against Tobin’s pelvis in slow, deliberate pulses, struggling—so fucking hard—to tame herself against the burgeoning want. She nuzzled Tobin’s jaw, gently turning it to expose her neck, then lowered her lips to taste her pulse for the second time in as many weeks. She relished the strong, predictable beat against her tongue and felt Tobin moan, the vibration tickling her mouth.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she pushed back and pulled her sweater over her head, catching the gleam of shock in Tobin’s eyes briefly before returning her lips to Tobin’s throat. Her hand found the edge of Tobin’s shirt, and she delicately traced her fingertips along her ribs, feeling Tobin shudder beneath her touch. Bracing her other hand against the couch, she ground her hips in a steady rhythm against Tobin’s.

Grier pressed her chest into Tobin’s touch as Tobin began tracing circles around her nipple with the pad of her thumb. The sensation made Grier’s sensitive nipple prickle and tighten. Tobin’s need grew parallel to her own. She could feel the frenzied control Tobin was clinging to—her hand trembling with arousal as she traced the waistband of Grier’s jeans, skimming the edges of her panties beneath.

Grier continued to walk her fingers up Tobin’s ribs, brushing nimbly along the underwire of her bra. She fingered it playfully,tracing its edge, coaxing it away from her rib cage as she tried to slip her hand beneath, searching for the supple curve of her breast. She felt Tobin arch into her touch, answering her tease. The response shot a plume of heat to Grier’s soaking center. She palmed Tobin’s breast, cupping the firm tissue in her hand, relishing the way her nipple hardened through the fabric.

It still wasn’t enough. Her arousal surged—and with it, her need for contact. For skin. For friction. She hooked a finger on the edge of the cup and tugged it down, then arced a finger to pinch Tobin’s nipple, rolling it beneath the crease of her thumb. Tobin bucked between her thighs, gasping at the tease—Grier greedily caught the sound, claiming her lips and resuming their intimate dance.

Tobin’s lips trailed slowly down Grier’s chin and throat, pausing at her sternum to press a gentle, reverent kiss over the pendant resting in the hollow of her throat.

That was the kiss that fractured her. Fighting every urge and physical instinct she had, Grier forced a single, breathy word past her lips.

“Stop.”

Tobin froze instantly, withdrawing her hands and placing them palm-up above her head like she was under arrest.

Grier let out a pitiful whine and rested her forehead on Tobin’s chest, her hands braced on either side of Tobin’s head. Both of their chests were heaving—breathless exhilaration evident in their shared guilt. They both knew they’d crossed their own lines.

“I’m sorry,” Tobin whispered.

Grier lifted her head and met her gaze. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

But Tobin still looked bereft, despite the reassurance.

Grier took a deep, steadying breath. “I want this—you—more than I can put into words. But we agreed to take things slow.And I don’t want to go to further than either of us is ready for. The last thing I want is for us to rush because we’re acting like a couple of horny teenagers, only to wake up and feel like I was a mistake—that you regret any of it.”

She paused, searching Tobin’s face, imploring her to understand that this was a pause in their physical pursuits—not a hard stop. As long as the desire between them burned, sex was inevitable. Just… when they were ready.

Tobin nodded, her clouded eyes offering Grier insight into the inner turmoil that mirrored her own.

“I escalated this. It’s on me,” Grier admitted softly. “Well—you’reonme, and I think that’s part of where things… escalated,” Tobin replied, a coy grin on her swollen lips.

Grier laughed and rested her forehead on Tobin’s chest again. They stayed like that for a moment, both of them laughing, breathless, tangled in warmth and the relief of knowing they hadn’t broken anything that mattered.

“You have to be cold—where’d you put your sweater?” Tobin asked, rubbing the skin along Grier’s spine in an attempt to warm her.

“I honestly have no idea—I wasn’t very concerned with that in the moment.” Grier pushed herself off Tobin and glanced to her left and right.

Tobin reached for the floor and came up with the sweater, offering it with a sheepish grin. “Here, Cinderella. It’s no glass slipper, but I think this will fit if you try it on.”

Grier pulled the sweater over her head, reluctantly. She was grateful for the warmth it offered, but her skin still pebbled from the loss of Tobin’s touch. “I guess I should probably go. I’m not sure I can be trusted to behave anymore tonight.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

Tobin stood and offered her a hand, lacing their fingers together as they made their way to the front door. She openedit and leaned in for a hug. Grier felt her inhale—a deep, intoxicating breath—before Tobin released her just enough so their eyes could meet.

Grier rose onto her toes and kissed her—soft and gentle, like they were starting all over again. Knowing she had to leave or risk spiraling beyond control, she leaned up, her lips grazing Tobin’s ear, and whispered lasciviously, “I’m going to whimper your name when I make myself come tonight.”

Tobin’s responsive whine was low and savage.

Grier kissed the corner of her mouth, lingering just a moment longer than was chaste—then turned and walked out the open door.

“When can I see you again?” Tobin called after her, half yell,

half plea.