Page 88 of The Ampersand Effect
Tobin searched for Grier’s lips with own, feeling Grier lean fully into her—mouth slowly parting in a silent invitation. Using the momentum, Tobin wrapped her arms around Grier’s waist and lifted her, sliding one hand over the curve of her firm, generous ass and down her thigh, tugging—encouraging Grier to wrap a leg around her waist.
Grier understood instantly, crossing her legs behind Tobin’s back. Without breaking the kiss, Tobin started down the short hallway toward the master bedroom.
She relished the softness of Grier’s lips as they folded and unfolded against her own. She caught Grier’s lower lip between her teeth, nibbling gently before soothing the bite with a flick of her tongue. In response, she felt Grier clamp her legs tighter around her waist and pull her closer, seeking more contact.
Tobin turned them, walking confidently with Grier wrapped around her, toward the bed near the back of the room—just in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto the master deck overlooking Lake Aether.
But Tobin had no interest in the views tonight. Her attention was hyper-focused on the only thing that mattered. On Grier. On the way she allowed Tobin to take the lead, creating a space that felt safe despite the intensity between them. She was focused on the scent of Grier’s skin, the musky sweetness of her perfume. She was aware of the soft moans and whimpers escaping Grier’s lips, surrendering to the sensations of their bodies, their tongues, their heat. And she was acutely aware of how it all fueled her own growing arousal.
Somehow, she made it to the edge of her king-sized bed, knocking her shins against the storage frame before gently lowering Grier onto her back, sinking her into the luxuriously soft down comforter.
She tried to stand, to reposition, but Grier refused to release her—her legs locked at the ankles around the small of Tobin’s back. Resigned to her willing imprisonment, Tobin pressed her thigh into Grier’s ass, shifting them farther onto the bed before slowly lowering herself on top of her.
Grier seemed to melt into the mattress, taking the weight of Tobin’s body onto hers and simply… unraveling. They kissed slowly, without direction, letting time stretch and blur around them. Tobin felt Grier unleash her hair from the ponytail she’d worn during their hike, the damp curls cascading down her shoulders and tickling her back. Then Grier’s fingers slid into Tobin’s hair, tugging at the roots with deliberate, teasing control. Tobin opened her mouth in a silent moan as Grier languidly rolled her tongue between her lips.
Grier unlocked her ankles from the small of Tobin’s back and began running long, increasingly firm strokes along her legs and ass with the inside of her thigh. Tobin needed to shift—to free her hands for something other than holding her own weight. She nudged Grier’s thigh with her pelvis, pressing their centers together and finding friction that drew a quick, startled gasp. Grier didn’t hesitate to open herself, widening her legs to let Tobin settle lower, her stomach sliding into the warm center between them and inciting their need.
With her hands now free, Tobin gently stroked the lines of Grier’s toned arms with the tips of her fingers, dragging her blunt nails lightly along the skin and feeling it pebble beneath her touch, sending currents of electricity through their contact.
She felt Grier squirm beneath her, and the pace of their kissing shifted as Grier struggled for something more. Her hands traced along the waistband of Tobin’s hiking pants, then toyed with the hem of her shirt. They hesitated—uncertain—before slipping beneath to find the ribbed cotton of her tank top. Grier’s palm flattened against Tobin’s back, heat bloomingthrough the fabric. Suddenly, she yanked her hand away with a low, frustrated growl.
Tobin eased back just enough to see her face, recognizing the look of hunger in Grier’s eyes.
“Tell me what you want,” Tobin murmured.
Grier shifted beneath her, fumbling at the hem of her own shirt. “I—“ she started, her voice thick with impatience. Then, with a huff, she found her resolve, gripping the edge of her shirt and whipping it over her head—exposing the lace bralette Tobin had too little time to admire at the cliff top.
Like then, her stomach plummeted as she took in the sight of Grier. Tobin could see the heat of Grier’s arousal flush the delicate skin between her breasts, her chest heaving in quick, shallow pants. The fullness of her breasts—rounder, softer than Tobin’s own— pressed against the lace, begging for release. Tobin’s mouth went dry as her thighs quaked in anticipation, moisture redistributing in hot, insistent waves at her center.
“Skin,” Grier rasped, urgent, her eyes reconnecting with Tobin’s. “I want skin.”
Tobin swallowed, momentarily frozen by the predatory focus in Grier’s eyes. Fears from before cast aside, she moved to give Grier what she wanted. She shifted, sliding one knee along Grier’s thigh and rising onto it, deliberately dragging the other across Grier’s center to give her the friction she craved.
Grier whined, needy, rocking against Tobin’s thigh in wordless response. The movement pulled a groan from Tobin’s throat, her own pulse stuttering as wet heat pooled between her thighs.
She moved to unbutton her shirt, only to have Grier shoot out a hand to stop her.
“Wait,” Grier commanded, lifting her upper body from the bed. She began slowly, seductively toying with the buttons of Tobin’s shirt, her gaze never leaving Tobin’s. “I want to undressyou. It’s…” she hesitated, and Tobin waited breathlessly for her to continue. “My favorite foreplay. Like Christmas morning, unwrapping my gifts.”
A shiver rippled through Tobin as Grier slipped a finger into the small opening at the top of her shirt, stroking the exposed skin just above the swell of her breasts.
“Can I?” Grier husked, the heaviness of her tongue revealing the depths of her desire.
Tobin’s mouth was too dry to answer, so she simply dropped her hands to her sides and nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching in half smile—part nerves, part surrender. If Grier wanted to treat her like a gift, Tobin wasn’t about to stop her from unwrapping it.
Grier’s fingers moved with unhurried precision, unfastening one button after another. She held Tobin’s gaze the entire time, silently searching for a shift in consent. When the final button slipped free, her eyes dipped to Tobin’s chest. Her fingertips grazed lightly over her collarbones before sliding the shirt from Tobin’s shoulders, the fabric whispering against her skin as it fell away.
Grier’s hands drifted to the waistband of Tobin’s tank top, pinching the fabric before her eyes lifted again to meet Tobin’s. In a reverent whisper, Tobin heard her ask, “This too?”
Arousal coiling low in her belly, Tobin found her voice and nodded. “Yes.”
Grier fisted the hem of her shirt and drew it upward, the soft cotton brushing over Tobin’s skin as she peeled it away. Nearly bare above the waist, Tobin knelt before Grier, forcing herself to breathe through the riot of nerves fluttering in her chest. She watched as Grier’s gaze roamed, slow and intent, over the ink marking her left side, tracing the cherry blossoms that climbed her ribs and curved around her breast.
Grier reached out—but froze. Tobin braced. She could feel the heat radiating from her, warmth coursing through her veins as she looked at Grier’s fingertips hovering mere millimeters from her skin.
Grier was being so gentle with her, so patient, waiting for consent at every turn. Tobin couldn’t remember ever feeling so exposed without shame.
She’d always had a fit body, grateful for a natural metabolism and an active lifestyle that keep her curves present but controlled. But since the accident, she’d hidden her form—her scars—behind her tattoos. She’d lost interest in being touched, in exposing her skin and scars, afraid of the painful memories that exposure would bring. Even with Talia, she’d kept her distance—preferring to give, satisfied by her lover’s pleasure and finishing herself afterward while her partner recovered.