I release her hands and grab her hips, stopping them as I make my way lower. My tongue slides between her slick folds, finding her clit, which I suck into my mouth. The moment, I do, she lets out a loud moan of relief and her raised hips sink back against the bed. Her hands lower, too—one of them moving to lace her fingers into my hair. She guides me to the area that needs the most attention, and I change between flicking my tongue against her and sucking—letting her take the lead by her moans and whimpers. I do as she needs until she’s limp and breathless in my hands.
Her sex is blushing pink and glistening for me as I make my way back up her body. I position myself at her entrance, but she takes me by surprise when her hand lands flat on my chest and she pushes me to the side. I land on my back and she climbs on. She slides down my length with fast movements, and the moment she’s seated completely, my hands find her outer thighs and I squeeze as the pleasure overtakes me.
Slowly, she starts lifting herself up and back down, grinding against me when she’s seated. I can already feel her muscles tightening around me. I move one hand to her clit, rubbing circles, and it’s only moments before I feel her muscles seizing around me. She throws her head back and her lips part as a loud moan escapes. Her hands, which are on my chest, curl up, digging her nails into my flesh. Even though it hurts, it feels amazing at the same time. My hips buck upward into her, only making her call out louder. I watch the expressions on her face change. I always know when she’s finished, because her open mouth closes and she bites down on her bottom lip before offering up a grin.
When she does that, I know it’s my turn. I roll her over and hold her thighs as high as I can get them as I start pumping into her. My body tenses as I try to hold off the pleasure that’s overtaking me. At this pace, it doesn’t take long before I’m losing myself completely.
Seventeen
Cora
Tonight, sleep easily finds me. Between the marathon, the lingering question about my missing period, the drama with Jimmy, and the sex, I have no choice but to fall into a deep sleep the moment my head hits the pillow. Grayson is holding me to his chest with his arms around me. It’s warm and comfortable, and I feel more love than I’ve ever had in my whole life. A deep, dreamless sleep takes me and holds me until late the next morning.
I open my eyes and the bright sun almost blinds me. I blink several times, allowing my eyes to adjust to the brightness before rolling over to find Grayson at my side, still completely asleep. He’s facing the ceiling with his eyes closed. Dark lashes fan across his cheeks. He looks perfect as he sleeps—no worry or stress showing on his face. He’s completely at ease. I snuggle closer to his side and let my eyes close again as I enjoy this moment.
My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the fact that I haven’t had a period in two months. My stomach tightens and I feel panic start to set in. It also occurs to me that I never got the chance to tell him how I feel. Between the food, playing pool, dancing, and Jimmy, it just didn’t feel like the right moment. Now that I think about it, I don’t want to just blurt it out. It needs to be perfect. How can I go about telling him my true feelings without it seeming like it’s only because I might be pregnant?
I’m sure that if all this works out and we find ourselves together in 20 years, how I first told him I loved him won’t even be remembered, but right now, it seems like an important step in moving forward. Maybe I should talk to Harley first and see what she thinks. With that thought, I slowly and quietly slip out of bed. I tiptoe across the floor and close the bedroom door behind me. I use the bathroom, brush my teeth and hair, then go to the kitchen to start some coffee. While it brews, I take my phone off the charger and dial her number.
“Hello?” she answers on the third ring.
“Hey, what are you doing? Do you have time for some girl talk?” I ask, holding my breath. I don’t know why I need her advice so badly. I’m usually not the type who asks for advice.
“Sure, I’m just lounging on the couch, flipping through a boring parenting magazine, and watching Foster try to put together a new entertainment center. I tried helping, but let me tell you, when you’re pregnant and trying to put together IKEA furniture, it could very well destroy your relationship.”
I giggle. Pregnancy must be anything but boring. “Well, I’m . . .” I let out a long breath, not sure how to even start this.
“Just spit it out, Cora. What’s up?”
“I think . . . I mean, I know . . . well, I’m pretty sure, anyway . . .”
“Ugh,” she says, growing annoyed with me.
“I’m in love with Grayson. Oh, and I’m probably pregnant.” I’m finally able to spit it all out.
And then there’s silence.
“Wait . . . what? You’re pretty sure?” she finally asks.
I drop down into an empty kitchen chair. “I mean, I am. I know I am. I just . . . don’t know how to tell him, or even if I should. Right now, we’re just messing around and hanging out. Seeing where things lead. I’m scared to tell him. I’m scared he won’t feel the same way, and I’m scared I’ve completely messed it all up now.”
“Cora, first of all, that man is in love with you. Second, are you pregnant or not? WTF!”
“How can I know for sure?” I ask, wanting evidence. Hard evidence.
She giggles. “Well for starters, you pee on a pregnancy test. Not rocket science, babe.”
“Ugh, I know that. I mean, how do I know he’s in love with me? Like, truly know?”
“Anyone can see it when he looks at you, hon. It’s like you’re all he wants in the world. You move, he moves. It’s plain as day.”
“So you think that if I told him how I feel, he’d say he feels the same way?” I ask, wanting to be clear here. I feel like a child.
“Absolutely,” she agrees. “But seriously, take a damn test.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I will. I love him so much, Harley, and truthfully, I’m worried he’ll think I’m only saying I feel this way because I’m pregnant, ya know? Like I’m trapping him or using him. I want him to know I felt this way long before I even realized it’s been nine weeks since my last period.
“NINE WEEKS?” She practically squeals into the phone. I pull it away from my ear and glance over my shoulder to make sure it didn’t wake Grayson.
“In my defense, I was training for that damn marathon and I swear I read somewhere that you can lose your period with that kind of exercise.”
“That’s actually true. Remember when I lost mine in college for, like, an entire semester because of softball, plus I was running a lot because of stress? I still say you should take a test as soon as possible and tell him.”
“I will, Harley, I swear! Okay, well, now that that’s out of the way, how do I do it? I mean, I don’t want to just blurt it out at the wrong time. How do I tell him? When?”
“Hmm,” she says, thinking.
“How did you tell Foster? Or how did he tell you?”
She laughs. “We’re a little different. I thought he was going to propose to another woman. Instead, he proposed to me instead.”
I roll my eyes. “You two are very different from us,” I agree.
She laughs again. “Look, Cora, I think you’re putting too much stress on yourself. Just tell him the next time you feel it. Don’t blurt it out over your morning coffee or something because you’re thinking about it. Feel it. Say it when you’re cuddling in bed or something. When he’s holding you close. When you’re slow dancing. When he’s making you laugh over dinner. Just . . . the next time you feel it, tell him.”
“That’s the problem. I feel it every time I look at him.”
She laughs. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” I agree.
“Well, good luck. Even though you won’t need it. He’s totally in love with you, Cora. Who wouldn’t be? And if you want me to grab a test and take it over to you, you know I will. For what it’s worth . . . I’m so happy for you. I know it’s te
rrifying, but you know he’ll be supportive.”
I smile at her words. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“So, what have you two been up to lately, anyway? We haven’t seen you in a while.”
I go through our weekend so far. I tell her about the training and the marathon, and she yells at me for not telling her so she could show up and support me. I tell her about going out last night and how we ran into Jimmy. She laughs her butt off when I tell her about how Grayson and Jimmy almost got into a fight. And she cheers Grayson on for saying the shit he said to Jimmy and knocking him to the floor. We laugh together and pray it’s the last time I see or hear from Jimmy.
I hear the bedroom door open and the bathroom door close, so I get off the phone and pour us some coffee. I make his just how he likes it and move into the hall just as he’s walking out of the bathroom.
“Good morning,” I say, handing him his mug.
“Morning,” he replies, giving me a quick kiss before the two of us move over to the couch to watch some TV and enjoy our coffee.
He sits beside me and picks up the remote. He offers it to me, but I wave him off, letting him have control for once. I’m too caught up in my thoughts to really watch anything anyway. He turns on the TV and starts flipping through the channels. I sit with my feet pulled up beneath me, resting my head on my fist and my coffee on my knee. It’s hard pulling my eyes away from him.
I watch him watching the TV as he searches for something to watch. I notice the way he sips his coffee. The way his eyes narrow on the screen when he pauses on a channel. The way he rests his head on the back of the couch when he finally settles on something. I look at the screen and see that’s he’s picked back up on the show we started watching last week. I smile at him, or myself, or neither. The smile isn’t meant to be seen. It’s just there because I’m finally happy. Happy with him. Happy with my life. Just happy.
The urge to tell him again bubbles to the surface, but I push it back down, knowing that right now, while we drink coffee and watch TV, isn’t special enough for the words I’m dying to say. So I go back to trying to plan the perfect moment. Maybe over a romantic dinner? Or maybe we can get a carriage ride? That all seems too cliché though. I want something more personal. Something more . . . us.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Got anything in mind?”
He slowly shakes his head from one side to the other. “Not really. Is there anything left on your list?”
“A few things. But nothing that needs to be done today. Let’s go off-list today. Find something new. What would be on your list if you had one?”
He presses his lips together as he thinks it over. “Hmm,” he mumbles. “I’ve always wanted to take one of those Segway tours around the city.”
I giggle. “Really? Aren’t those things for tourists?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but it looks fun, doesn’t it? Getting to ride around the city and hear about the history and architecture?”
I frown. “Not really, but if you want to, I’ll go just to spend the day with you.”
He offers up a sleepy smile and his hand lands on my leg. He gently squeezes it and I know it’s his way of saying thank you.
After we finish our coffee, we both shower and get ready for the day. Then we head off and find a tour. After learning how to ride the damn things, we’re off, learning about stuff I have no interest in, but I enjoy watching his excitement. I’m like one of the slacker kids who sits in the back of the room shooting spit wads, while he’s the kid in the front listening to every word and taking notes. I try talking to him a few times while we’re getting a history lesson, but he always shushes me and it only makes me laugh harder. After a few times, I quit and let him enjoy his day.
The tour lasts almost two hours, and when we make it back to the station, we’re off and in search of some lunch. We find a little cafe with outdoor seating and sit in the bright sunshine. I order some soup and salad and he orders a burger and fries. The food is delicious and we both agree to come back in the near future to try out more menu items.
We do a little shopping while we’re out—going in and out of bookstores, clothing stores, and novelty shops. By the time we make it back to my place, I’m beat and starving from walking around all day. Clearly, I should have had a little more for lunch. Neither of us feels like going back out for dinner, so we place an order with a nearby Chinese restaurant and have it delivered. We both sit on the couch in our pajamas, watching TV and eating. I end up passing out on the couch, but when I wake in the middle of the night, I find that he’s carried me to bed and he’s lying right next to me like I knew he would be. I smile to myself, roll over, press myself to his back, and fall asleep.
Sunday is spent in much of the same fashion. We lounge around watching TV, he helps me clean up my apartment, and I do laundry for the workweek ahead. We order in again, opting to stay in our pajamas instead of getting dressed and braving the world, then we turn in early.
When I wake Monday morning, he’s gone as usual, but the note is there on his pillow. I smile as I get myself up and head for the shower.
As I wash my hair, I start to think that maybe there isn’t a perfect time to tell him how I feel or that we might be parents. Maybe there is just the time, and I feel like I’ve far exceeded it. I vow to tell him as soon as possible—as soon as I feel it, just like Harley suggested. After I get out of the shower, I almost feel like I’m in a rush. I want to get to the office to see him. To tell him. I fix my hair and face, then dress in a pencil skirt, dress shirt, and heels. I grab my purse, phone, and keys, and hit the door.
The drive doesn’t take long, but now that I’m set on telling him, I’m nervous again. I push the feeling away. There’s no reason to be nervous. I keep Harley’s words in my head, soothing the nervousness. I drop my things in my office, grab my coffee cup, and head to the break room where I know he’ll be.
I push the door to the break room open, and to my surprise, it’s empty. I check the time on my watch, seeing that it’s 7:50 a.m. I shrug as I walk to the coffee pot and get it started. I tap my fingernails on the counter as I wait, hoping he’ll step inside any minute, but he never does. I pour my coffee and sit at the table. I have a few minutes to kill before I have to get to work. I drink almost half my cup before 8 a.m. rolls around and I have to get up and go back to my office.
I place my cup on my desk and sit in my chair. As the computer starts up, I grab my phone and send him a text.
Cora: I was hoping to see you this morning. Everything okay?
I drop the phone onto my desk and wait nervously. It dings and I grab it quickly, looking at the screen.
Grayson: Everything’s fine. Just running behind. I’ll see you at lunch.
I let out a long breath. That just means I’ll have to keep it inside a little while longer, and that I need to take a test first. I thought it might be fun to take it with him, but I don’t want to tell him I might be pregnant if I’m not. What if it gets his hopes up? That thought suddenly has butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Truthfully, I haven’t even thought about what I want. I know I’ve always wanted children; the thought of being a mom puts a huge grin on my face. I picture holding my baby, and when I look up, I see Grayson’s smiling eyes staring back at me in my fantasy. My hand falls to my stomach and I look down for a brief moment—letting the fantasy linger a moment longer.
I manage to get most of my work done and find a good place to pause before lunch. At noon, I head to the break room and find it almost completely full. I push my way through the crowd.
“What’s going on in here?” I ask Jenn, a coworker.
“It’s Mike’s last day. It’s his retirement party,” she replies.
I nod and look around the room for Grayson. I search every face but don’t find him. Instead of sticking around in the crowded room, I head back to my office to get my purse and phone.
Cora: Break room is
crazy today. Want to go out for lunch?
While I wait for his reply, I gather my things.
Grayson: I haven’t made it back yet. We’re out on a sales call. Dinner?
I smile at his words.
Cora: I’d love to.
I grab my purse and make a mad dash to the drugstore across the street. I pick up a box with two pregnancy tests and grab a sandwich from the cart in the building lobby. My legs feel shaky as I make my way back to my desk and throw my purse under my desk. I stare at the box for a moment, trying to decide if I should take it at work.
I eat my lunch at my desk, feeling more lonely than usual. Lately, I’ve always had Grayson to enjoy lunch with. As I eat my sandwich, I don’t taste anything. Instead, I think of what I’ll say to him at dinner. I think about those tests burning a hole in my purse. I WILL TELL HIM AT DINNER! No exceptions. No excuses.
I can’t take it any longer. I grab the tests and make a mad dash to the restroom, glancing over both shoulders before I step inside. I look under the stalls and don’t see anyone, so I lock the main door to the bathroom. I’m shaking as I unwrap the first test and pull down my panties before squatting over the toilet.
“Ugh, come on!” I say as I feel myself clench in nervousness. I take in a deep breath and release it. Finally, I feel myself relax enough to pee on the stick. I throw the cap back on it and finish up before stepping out and placing the test on the counter next to the sink. I flip it over so it’s face down, then I just stare at myself in the mirror.
It feels like an eternity. I glance at my watch and see it’s only been 90 seconds. I take a few more shaky breaths before flipping the test over and seeing two bold pink lines staring back at me.
The F It List (Love You Forever Book 6) Page 15