“Aahhh!” she says, trying to kick against me, but I have her now and there’s nothing she can do. I pull her against me, her chest against mine.
“I should dunk you under,” I say, focusing my eyes on hers.
“You won’t do it,” she says, smiling, but she’s not pulling her eyes away.
“You’re right,” I say, moving my mouth to hers. At first, she freezes out of surprise, but my lips keep moving and my tongue pushes past her lips. Her tongue dances with mine and her arms wrap around my neck, her fingers lacing into my hair. I pull her closer as our kiss grows deeper and deeper. My left hand stays on her lower back, holding her to me. My right hand finds her thigh, and I pick it up and hitch it over my hip. The other follows, and soon, I’m holding her against me while I’m between her parted legs. This warms my body right up. I’m no longer cold. Now I’m burning from the inside out.
My hands move to her ass to support her weight, and I grow hard. I know she can feel it pressing against her like it has a mind of its own and knows right where it wants to go.
I slow the kiss and pull back. “Have you thought about that other thing yet?” I ask against her lips.
She nods, breathing heavily.
“And?”
She takes a deep breath to clear her head. “I’m scared that it will mess up our friendship.”
“You think it can screw it up more than this?” My hands tighten on her ass, showing her exactly what I mean. “We’ve already crossed the line. We might as well have some fun doing it.” I offer up a smirk and she bites her lower lip as she looks at me from beneath her lashes. “Okay,” she breathes out just before moving her lips back to mine.
I kiss her as slowly and deeply as I can, but now that I know where this is going, I just want to jump up and down. But I don’t want to rush this. I want to take my time with her and show her how this is really supposed to be done. How she’s supposed to be treated. If nothing else, hopefully she learns not to accept anything less.
I carry her through the water and back up the bank. The night air feels even colder now that we’re wet and naked, so I walk as quickly as I can to the tent. I break our kiss and set her on her feet. She squats down and slips in through the mesh door. I follow her in and zip it up. When I turn around to face her, she’s lying on one sleeping bag while attempting to cover up with the other.
I move to the bed and cover up with the unzipped sleeping bag. I slide one arm beneath the pillows as I stay on my side, looming over her. “Are you sure about this?” I ask softly. She’s worrying her bottom lip again and I place my hand on her face, using my thumb to free her lip. Her eyes are wide with fear and worry, but she nods.
“Just . . .” She takes a deep breath. “Promise that it won’t come between us. These past couple of weeks have meant a lot to me and I’m more scared to lose you than I’ve ever been.”
“You won’t lose me,” I tell her, shaking my head as I lower my lips to hers again.
Our kisses has become more comfortable. It no longer feels stiff or weird. Now it’s normal—natural even. Kissing her is like taking a drink of ice water after walking through a desert. It’s refreshing, relieving, and teasing because I want so much more. As our kiss grows, her arms wrap around my neck again and I roll myself between her legs, which she parts for me. Already, I’m wondering if I should go down on her and try to make her come that way, or if I should just dive right in. Then I wonder if she’s ever experienced oral before. Probably not, or she would’ve known some kind of release, right?
I kiss down her neck to her chest. My big hands find her small breasts and start kneading while I press kisses to the swell of them. Slowly, I work my way toward a nipple and suck it into my mouth. She gasps and it makes my cock twitch, but then she moans and it’s the softest, sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. My body is on full alert now. I flick my tongue back and forth over their peaks and she’s wiggling against me, pulling my hair, and whimpering pleas.
I continue moving downward—lower to her belly, hip, and then the junction between her legs. I use my tongue to separate her folds, and the moment my tongue brushes against her clit, she jerks and cries out softly. That sound does things to me I never thought it could, but I’m suddenly working harder, like I’m trying to achieve my own release, but not before she gets hers first.
I lick, flick, and suck on her clit as she’s whimpering and moaning beneath me. Her body is hard and tensed, and I know it won’t be much longer before she’ll be coming undone. I keep my mouth right where she needs it and slide a finger inside her hot core. I curl my finger upward toward her G-spot, and her moans grow louder.
She’s panting and whimpering. Her nails dig into the skin of my shoulder blades and I flinch, but work through the pain. “Fuck, Grayson,” she breathes out. “Keep going. Keep going. Keep . . .” And then she comes undone. Words are no longer understandable. I can only hear a string of heavy pants and moans as she writhes beneath me. I don’t stop until she quiets down and goes limp, which takes several long moments.
Finally, I work my way back up her body and lie at her side. She’s still breathing heavily and she has one hand in her hair like she was pulling it. She looks over at me and giggles. I could take that as an insult, but I know that’s not how it’s meant. She’s blown away and I feel awfully proud of myself, so I shoot her a smile. “Well?”
Her hand falls to her side. “Oh my God,” she breathes out, and her words are still heavy and labored. “That was . . .” She shakes her head to try to clear it. “Amazing. World-changing.” She rolls to her side, facing me and resting her hand on my chest. “Is it always like that? Like . . . always?”
I shrug. “I don’t know how it is for you or other women, but I know when I get off, I can barely think clearly for several minutes afterward.”
She smiles. “I think I’d like to see that.” Her hand starts to dip below the blanket, but I catch it with mine. “Tonight was for you, Cora. You don’t owe me anything,” I tell her.
“But . . . don’t you have a little problem down there? I mean, I know with Jimmy—”
“Jimmy and I are nothing alike,” I tell her, cutting her off.
“Oh,” she says, sounding like she’s gotten in trouble.
I take a deep breath and roll to my side to look at her. “If I could ask you learn one thing out of doing all this list stuff with me, it would be for you to see your worth, Cora. And don’t settle for anything less. You know what you deserve. Reach out and take it.”
Her eyes focus on mine, and I can see understanding shining back at me.
In the morning after breakfast, we hike to the boat station and rent a little boat for a couple of hours to take out fishing. We paddle back to our campsite and grab our fishing equipment, then head out to the middle to try to catch some fish.
“Will you please put the worm on the hook for me?” she begs. “I’m a city girl. We don’t touch worms or dirt.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll do the first one and show you how it’s done. After that, you’re on your own.” I take a worm out of the container and get it on the hook. Then I walk her through how to throw out her line and how to reel it back in. We throw our lines on different sides of the boat so we’re careful not to tangle them. For a while, it’s all quiet, but then boredom sets in.
“So, what do we do while we wait for a fish?” she asks.
“We wait quietly so you don’t scare off the fish.”
“You mean the fish can hear us underwater?”
“Yep.”
“Do fish even have ears?”
I just look at her. What the fuck?
“I mean, if they didn’t, wouldn’t they be full of water anyway? And how can you hear when your ears are full of water?”
“See, it’s this kind of talking that’s going to lead to us not having fish tonight for dinner.”
“Ew! I’m not eating any of these fish.”
“Why not?” I ask, confused.
She shrugs. “This
water is dirty. I only eat fish from expensive restaurants. So, you know, ocean fish.”
I roll my eyes—something I seem to be doing a lot of today. “You think that ocean fish are cleaner than these fish?”
“Well, yeah. It’s bigger and salty. Salt cleans and disinfects.”
I don’t even get into it with her. I just nod and accept her answer. “So, why are we fishing if you won’t eat the fish?”
“‘Cause I’ve never done it?” she says, but it sounds like a question.
“Then what were you planning on doing with the fish we catch? You can’t just kill an animal with no intention of eating it.”
“To be honest, I didn’t really think we’d catch anything. I just wanted to sit on the water with a fishing pole. Besides, isn’t it called “catch and release”? As in . . . releasing it back into the water? I’m not going to kill it. I just thought it would be relaxing.”
“Is it?”
“Is it what?”
“Relaxing!”
“Geez, you don’t have to yell. You’ll scare the fish away,” she says with a smirk. “And no, it’s not relaxing. You won’t stop asking me questions.”
I shake my head and turn around, choosing to ignore her.
The next 20 minutes fly by. She keeps talking and asking questions, but I don’t respond to any of them. I just let her jabber on as I focus on the lake.
“Grayson, are you mad at me?” she asks.
I turn around and look at her. Her brows are pulled together and she looks worried. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Because you’ve been ignoring me!” Her eyes get wide.
I can’t help it. I just laugh.
“What’s so funny?” she demands.
It takes a minute for my laughing to die down. When it does, I say, “You said you weren’t relaxing because I wouldn’t stop asking you questions. So I stopped talking and now you think I’m mad?” The laughing starts up all over again.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Well, you don’t have to laugh at me. You could’ve just said ‘no.’” She’s pouting now and I find that even more funny.
We end up catching nothing, so we paddle back to camp to put our fishing supplies back so we don’t have to hike with them in hand. As we’re carrying our poles back up, she says, “I know why you’re so grouchy today.”
I just look at her.
“It’s because you have blue balls, isn’t it?”
“What?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Well, it’s just that last night, I got off and you didn’t, but I know you were turned on. I felt it pressing against me. And I know that if a guy gets turned on and doesn’t get off, it gives him blue balls and that apparently hurts. Do they hurt?” She’s trying to be sympathetic but it just sounds like she’s being a smart-ass.
“My balls are fine, thank you.” I lie. To be honest, they do hurt. It feels like an elephant sat on them and now they’re black and blue and swollen. I don’t even want them brushing against my legs when I walk. But I won’t tell her that. I meant what I said. Last night was for her, and I don’t want her thinking she owes me anything or has to do something she doesn’t want to do.
“Okay, I was going to suggest helping you with that problem . . . but if you say so.” She drops her pole and turns back toward the lake to return the boat.
I want to stop her—to tell her that they do hurt and that I want her right fucking now—but I don’t say anything. I meant what I said last night. I meant what I said last night. I meant what I said last night, I tell myself over and over in my head.
Seven
Cora
Oh my God. How can I get him back in the sack? This time, I want to go further. I want to feel him inside me. I want to know the sounds he makes. I want to see his facial expressions change. Last night was not enough. Not only is he the first person to ever push me over the finish line, but he’s also the first person to ever go down on me. I know, I know. How is that possible? Well, I’ve been with a lot of douchebags. Most of the guys weren’t even worried about me finishing. They just wanted to use my body to get themselves off. I can’t believe I lived like that for so long. Why did it take Grayson to see that I deserve so much more?
And now that I see my worth, I want him. Maybe not forever. Maybe not even to love. But in this moment, right now in the middle of nowhere with him so close, I want him—every thick, tantalizing inch of him.
I’ve been drinking ever since we got back to the campsite from our day of fun. We hiked, fished, kayaked, and hiked back to our little spot in the middle of nowhere. He’s busy stoking the fire because it died down while we were gone. He said he wants to get it ready to cook on, and I’m getting the food out of the coolers so we can throw them on. It doesn’t take the brats long to cook, and we’re eating in no time.
“I think I’m going to go for a shower when we’re done,” I tell him as we eat.
He nods as he chews up his food. “Yeah, that does sound good. I’m sure I don’t smell very good after paddling that boat around all day.”
“Hey, I helped.”
He laughs. “I didn’t say you didn’t.”
“Do I smell?”
“I haven’t gotten close enough to tell,” he laughs out.
I roll my eyes and hold up my middle finger.
After we eat, we both hike up the trail to the bathroom/shower house. There’s a porta-potty closer to camp that we’ve both been using, but we found the shower house on our hike today and decided to take advantage. When we walk up to the door, we see that it says FAMILY SHOWER.
“What’s that mean?” I ask.
“Guess we’re going to find out,” he says, pulling the door open.
When we walk in, we find that the largest portion of the room is community showers. No stalls. No partitions. Just two shower heads on the walls like an old, dirty locker room. There’s also a toilet and a sink with a mirror hanging above it. I freeze as I take in the room—embarrassed about having to shower in front of him. Then I remember last night and figure he’s gotten to know all of me by now.
“You cool with this?” he asks, looking nervous himself.
I shrug. “Why not? We’re both adults, right?”
His jaw clenches but he nods and locks the door. I set my dry towel and clothes over by the sink, then take my shower items over to one of the shower heads. I stand off to the side and start the water, letting it warm up as I remove my clothes and hang them on the hook so I don’t have to walk back and forth across the room completely naked. When I turn around to dip my head under the water, I find Grayson still standing in the same spot, eyes focused on me. I want to laugh, but the serious, needy look on his face has my blood running hot.
I decide to try to ignore him in order to get clean. I turn around and grab my bottle of shampoo. I pour some into my hand and work it into a lather in my hair. When I look back, he’s moved over to his own shower head. He’s completely naked, just like last night, but this time I can see him clearly. I can see each rock-hard muscle. See every ripple. See every dimple. There are two sets, by the way: two low on his back, just above his ass, and two on either side of his spine.
I rinse my hair clean and apply conditioner. When I look back, he’s facing me but he has his eyes closed as he hangs his head, letting the water wash down his back. My eyes drop further, finding it rushing over each ab muscle, then I look lower, down to his long, thick, hard, standing-at-attention cock.
I realize I’ve been staring too long when he clears his throat. My eyes jump up to his eyes and warmth spreads from my lower belly to my face, embarrassed that I was caught. I spin around, putting my back to him as I cover my loofah with body wash. Then I start washing off, hoping he doesn’t bring up the fixation I apparently have with his penis.
I turn around and around, making sure I’ve washed off all the soap, and every time I look at him, he’s looking at me.
“Remember what I said last night?” he asks, still in his own shower.
“What?” I ask, breathless as I shut off the water.
“Know what you want. Reach out and take it,” he says, still standing in the water that’s raining down on him.
I swallow. Does he mean what I think he means? I look from his eyes, to his cock that’s still hard, and back. He offers up a grin and I know he knows what I want.
I slowly start my walk to him, biting down on my lower lip. He stands there in the water, waiting. I stop when I’m directly in front of him, with only an inch separating us. I look up and meet his eyes. I can see the fire burning in them. My arms have a mind of their own as they reach up and wrap around his neck. In the same instant, my mouth moves to his and he pulls me against him so hard, it knocks the air from my lungs.
As quickly as the kiss started, I’m spun around and pressed against the wall. He picks me up against him, putting my legs on either side of his hips. I can feel his hardness pressing against me, and when he moves his hips, causing it to run between my folds, a soft whimper escapes my lips.
His hands move up to cup my face, deepening the kiss. “Do you want this, Cora?” he whispers against them.
“Yes,” I tell him, trying to get my lips back on his.
“Then take it,” he says, smashing his mouth to mine. Our lips and tongues move quickly in sync—both of us wanting and needing more from the other than what’s being given. I reach down between us and wrap my hand around his girth. He’s so big, I have to stretch my fingers to fully encircle him. Suddenly, I’m more excited and scared than I’ve ever been. I’ve never been with someone this large. All of my partners have been average at best—many below average. I didn’t even realize they came this large! But I don’t let this fear of the unknown overtake me. Instead, I conquer my fear and place him at my entrance. Just the tip is pressing against me, too big to just slide into place.
“What about a condom?” I whisper, trying to stop myself from lifting my hips and letting him slide inside.
The F It List (Love You Forever Book 6) Page 7