Page 60

He lifts me like I weigh nothing and sets me on the edge of the pool, then he climbs out.

He’s dripping wet, tattoos gleaming under the soft lights, jaw set in that way that makes my pulse skip. Focused. Feral.

He sets me on the sun-warmed cushion of the chaise lounge.

The look in his eyes is hunger and home and fuck, I missed you all tangled into one.

His mouth crashes into mine—wet, hot, and furious. He kisses like he wants to devour me. Like the weeks we spent apart were a punishment he’s still trying to survive.

His hands are everywhere—sliding over my hips, dragging me closer, anchoring me to him like he’s afraid I’ll vanish again.

“Are you mad at me?” I whisper against his lips.

He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. His voice is low. Dangerous. “Mad? No. Obsessed? Yeah. You think I slept while you were gone?”

I gasp as his fingers slide under the strap of my red one-piece, tugging it down my shoulder.

“Grayson,” I breathe, my head spinning. “What about…”

He glances toward the pool.

Hunter’s still swimming, pretending not to look. Caleb’s lounging at the edge with that lazy smirk that says finally .

Grayson’s focus swings back to me like a magnet snapping into place. “They’ll live.”

His fingers slip under the edge of my swimsuit.

Hunter groans. “Really? Come on, guys. This is a rental, not a porn set.”

I let out a breathless laugh, but Grayson doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even glance up. His focus is entirely on me, his touch purposeful.

“You’re mine for the next ten minutes,” he says softly, trailing kisses along my jaw.

I arch into him, dizzy from the sun and the heat and the way he makes everything else disappear. “Ten minutes?”

His grin is wolfish. “You’re right. I’ll need longer.”

He kisses me again, and my world narrows to the feel of his hands, the rasp of his voice, the look in his eyes that says I’m the only thing that matters.

Then he drops to his knees in front of me.

He pulls the swimsuit down my body in one slow, punishing motion, baring me to the fading late afternoon sun. My breath catches. I should feel self-conscious. I should feel exposed.

Instead?

I burn.

He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

His mouth grazes over my hip, up my ribs, down my stomach. My hands tangle in his wet hair as he moves lower.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs against my skin. “You always have been.”

He licks my pussy, the flat of his tongue moving and working until I’m squirming.

“Gray,” I pant, reaching for him.

He moves on top of me, his body pressing against mine, solid heat and soaked skin, and I can feel just how much he wants me—thick and hard between us, straining through his swim trunks.

I reach down between us, fumbling with the waistband.

“They’re wet,” I mutter, breathless.

His mouth brushes mine. “So are you.”

I laugh—quiet, wrecked—as we both try to peel them down. It’s messy and desperate, and we’re half-laughing through the struggle, all tangled limbs and impatient fingers.

“You two need a hand?” Caleb calls over, grinning.

“Jesus, just rip the damn thing already,” Hunter says, sounding impatient.

Another tug and then—he’s free.

I don’t even get a full second to look at him, to take in the sheer size of him, before he’s kissing me again—deep and unhurried now, like he’s trying to memorize my taste. His weight settles over me, heavy in the best way, shielding me from everything but him.

He nudges at my entrance and pauses.

Our eyes lock.

“I missed this, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice rough. “Missed you.”

I kiss him.

He slides into me slowly—carefully—like he’s trying to savor every second. My breath catches, chest rising as I feel him stretch me inch by inch, thick and deliberate. The fullness is almost too much. Almost.

His forehead drops to mine, his breath ragged and hot.

“Fuck, Rilee…” he groans, voice wrecked. It’s not just desire—it’s relief . Like he’s finally home.

I wrap my legs around his waist, arms around his neck, needing him impossibly closer. Every nerve in my body is tuned to him—his weight, his heat, the way his hands grip my hips like he’s afraid I’ll slip away.

It’s overwhelming. Sweet and scorching all at once.

We move together slowly at first—unhurried, hypnotic, like we’re relearning each other after too long apart. Like our bodies are picking up where words failed. The rest of the world fades into static, and all I feel is him.

But then—he breaks.

Grayson’s pace picks up, hips driving harder, rougher, his control unraveling with every thrust. A grunt punches from his chest as he works his full length into me.

“Fuck, Ri. You feel too good.” His voice is low, hoarse.

His skin slaps against mine, fast and wet and filthy. I moan—loud enough to echo off the water, probably loud enough to alert the neighbors.

Across the pool, Caleb whistles. “Damn. He’s really not holding back.”

“Fucking hell,” Hunter groans, voice clipped and low, like he’s trying not to watch but can’t look away.

“You need a hand, Gray?” Caleb calls next, teasing.

Grayson growls, not even pausing as he lifts one arm and flips him off, knuckles digging into the cushion beside my head.

I’m laughing and gasping and falling apart all at once.

And then it hits—hard and hot and shattering. My orgasm rolls through me like a wave, tearing a broken sob from my throat. I cry out his name, and he catches it in a kiss.

He follows a heartbeat later—a deep, shaking moan that vibrates against my chest as he buries himself fully inside me. His whole body tenses, then melts, collapsing into the crook of my neck like it’s the only place he’s ever wanted to be.

Afterward, he just stays there, covering me like a shield, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles into my hip. His breathing gradually slows, syncing with mine, our skin still slick, hearts still racing.

He kisses my temple, soft as a promise.

“I missed you,” he whispers.

I curl my fingers into his damp hair.

“I missed you more.”