desolate (Grace Trilogy, Book One)

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desolate (Grace Trilogy, Book One) Page 23

by Autumn Grey


  What if he does, though? He wouldn’t say sorry if he did, right?

  I shake my head to get rid of that thought.

  I took a chance with him. It was stupid. And now I know sex wasn’t the way to go.

  My feelings for him cloud my judgment. And the fact he’s leaving for Boston makes this emptiness in my chest even more tangible. All I want to do is hold on to him in any way I can.

  When I’m close to him, I can’t think straight. I desperately want his mouth on mine, his hands on my body. Is it even normal to feel like this? Should I be repulsed by sex after what happened to my mom?

  I shake my head. No, what happened to my mom was horrible. This, this is sex. And it can be beautiful. With Sol, I know it would be.

  I’ve been going in circles, like a dog chasing its own tail, bouncing between accepting his apology and spending the last few days before he leaves with him, and ignoring his text. He’ll leave, find new adventures in his journey with God, and forget about me. Staying away is a win-win situation for the both of us. We won’t need to say goodbye.

  I hate goodbyes.

  Sighing, I inform my mom I’m heading to Casco Bay Culinary Institute to sign us up for their weekly cooking class. Two nights ago, I found a flyer stuck between the wipers and the windshield of my car advertising the newly opened institute. I thought it would be a great mother-daughter bonding experience on top of the therapy sessions.

  I leave the diner and head for my car when a hand grasps my bicep. My body tenses and I spin around, my foot raised, ready to slam it down on whoever touched me, but the scent of motor oil and sunshine fills my nostrils.

  “Whoa! It’s me, Gracie.”

  And just like that, the tension melts away from my body. I should be worried Sol has that kind of power over me, but right now, I’m too busy drinking him in like he’s water and I’m parched.

  “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

  He looks offended. “I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I thought you heard me walking up to you. I even called your name.”

  “Well, I didn’t.”

  “Obviously.” His lips twitch as he stares down at the foot that almost knocked him on his ass. His forehead creases slightly with a frown. “Look, can we talk?”

  Panic grips my throat once again. It’s as if I don’t know how to be around him anymore, yet I want nothing more than to fall into his arms. “Right now? I kind of—”

  “I just need a few minutes. I’m driving to Boston tonight for orientation. Can we talk in my truck? I have to go to the apartment to change my clothes before leaving. I can drop you back here when we’re finished talking.”

  I nod reluctantly and allow him to steer me toward his truck.

  We drive in silence until he cuts his eyes to me and says, “Aren’t you going to confession today? You’re the only person I know who attends confession every week.”

  “Not today.” I find myself smiling at him. I can’t help it. Not when he’s looking at me with such gentleness. “The sins I would’ve confessed didn’t quite happen,” I say pointedly.

  “I’m sorry I was an ass. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

  I sigh and twist my body to face him. I pull one leg up, tucking it under me. “About what happened . . . I’m so sorry for putting you on the spot. It wasn’t fair to ask you that.” Unable to hold his gaze, I drop mine to his fingers drumming a quick beat on the wheel. “Your friendship means everything to me, Sol. I don’t want to lose it.”

  He’s quiet for a few seconds. I can feel the heat of his gaze on my face before he returns his focus to the road. “I didn’t want to leave knowing you’re still pissed at me. I won’t be able to live with myself, Grace.”

  “I was angrier with myself, I think.”

  He pauses. “We’ll still be friends, right?”

  Friends.

  “Yes.” I smile, hoping I’m good at hiding the desperation overwhelming my heart.

  “So we’re good?”

  I make sure he’s looking at me when I say, “Of course.”

  I look out the window and realize we’re parked outside his building already. And when my eyes move back to him, he’s carefully assessing me. Then he murmurs, “Good,” and turns to open his door, hiding his eyes from me.

  By the time I unbuckle my seat belt, he’s already opening the passenger door for me. He’s such a gentleman. Why, oh why did he have to go and be a priest? I jump out, and we head for his apartment.

  Once inside, he kicks the apartment door shut with his foot, then unlaces his sneakers and throws them to the side. He straightens to his full height, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

  “I’m really going to miss you, Gracie. Are you going to miss me?”

  “Of course. You’re my best friend.”

  He steps closer, the heat coming off his body wrapping around me. “Really?”

  I step back, not because I’m afraid of him, but because he’s just so overwhelming and intense. Especially when he’s staring down at me the way he is right now. As if he wants to throw me over his shoulder and march off to his cave, beating his chest and growling, “Mine.”

  He bridges the distance between us, caging me to the wall, and I forget to breathe.

  “What are you doing, Sol?”

  He drags his fingers through his hair, then braces that same hand on the wall next to my head as if he’s trying to hold his weight up. He leans down, bringing his mouth to my ear, his nose into my hair, and inhales deeply.

  “Ah, vanilla waffles. God, I could take a bite out of you right now, Gracie,” he whispers.

  The edges of his teeth skim across the skin there, then bite down, but not hard enough to break the skin.

  I gasp. I squeeze my eyes shut as desire rushes through me, and my skin tingles as warmth pools in my belly. Too much heat and need slam into me all at once. I don’t know what to do, but apparently, my body knows what it wants as it arches forward, pushing into his chest.

  I whisper, “Sol.”

  I’m trying to remember why I’m here, but my brain is foggy. My fingers clench around his T-shirt and push him away. I suck in deep breaths. His head dips down, his mouth following mine, undeterred. “I thought—” I shake my head to clear it. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for Boston?”

  “Yeah. Of course.” His chest rises and drops fast, conflict and need darkening his gaze. His eyes, looking into mine, say everything his mouth doesn’t, splitting me in half. I’m a ball of agony, hope, desperation, and love. So much love for this boy. He blows out air through his mouth and drops his forehead to my shoulder. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  Those words combined with his husky voice cut through me. My fingers climb up his back and tangle in his hair. “Me too.”

  He lifts his head and kisses my forehead, then takes a step back. “I gotta go change.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “We good?”

  I nod and force a smile. “Yes.”

  He gives me a brief smile before heading to his room down the hall. His bedroom door closing sounds like the ending of something that could’ve been beautiful. Something left unexplored.

  At the thought, pain stabs my chest. I’ve never wanted anything or anyone as much as I want Sol.

  I grab the edge of my T-shirt and yank it over my head, then bunch it in a ball in my hands. I take deep breaths to calm myself because I’m shaking with need and frustration.

  I need to get her out of here before my body finally caves and begs her to let me take her.

  All of her.

  And for her to take all of me.

  She’s my curse and my temptation, and right now, she’s the escape that could save me from this hell I’ve been locked in since I knew what it felt to want someone.

  Grace Miller will be my hardest goodbye, but to preserve my sanity, I have to say goodbye today. The sooner the better for both of us.

  I toss the balled-up T-shirt in the hamper next to the d
oor, then grab a clean dark blue one. I’ve just slipped my right arm in the armhole when I hear two knocks at my door.

  “Hold on a sec,” I mutter as I slide the T-shirt the rest of the way and tug it down my stomach. My heart races when I open the door and find Grace standing there, arms crossed around her midriff. “Almost done,” I say, leaving the door open and crossing the room to grab the folder with signed paperwork.

  “Um . . . so I was thinking we just have, like, one life to live, right?” she announces.

  I stop at my desk and look over my shoulder. “Unless you’re a cat or something, then yes. One life.” I chuckle at my own joke. “What is it, Gracie?”

  She laughs nervously. “Well, I have a suggestion.”

  “Can we do this in the car?” I grab the file and stride back to the door. She steps in my path and places both hands on my chest. Peeling the folder from my grip, she carefully lays it on top of the dresser before meeting my gaze with heat and pure need. Tension coils in my groin.

  “Nope. I think we’d get arrested if we did it in the car.” She giggles, her eyes dropping to my chest. “God, I think something’s wrong with me. I just apologized to you less than ten minutes ago, yet here I am, asking you the same thing—”

  “Grace.” I bridge the distance between us. “Look at me, please.”

  She lifts her head. Her eyes are wide, and fear and need are warring in them when they meet mine. Her lip trembles slightly, and I know it’s taking her a lot of courage to say whatever she’s about to say.

  “Just one more question before you leave. If you were given only one chance to do whatever you want, what would that be? Don’t think about tomorrow or whatever. Think about the present.”

  “You,” I say without thinking, the word coming out as naturally as breathing. My hands slide down to grip her hips and tug her flush against my body. That part of me I’ve been holding back breaks free as her scent surrounds me.

  God, I want to kiss her so much.

  “I want to put my mouth on your skin and explore every part of you with my hands. I want to feel you. Really feel you. I want to love you.” My gaze roams her face, and I swallow hard, the possibilities of the things she and I could do flashing inside my head. “The way you deserve to be loved.”

  She’s breathing fast now, eyes wide and almost black, bottom lip trembling. “Then do it. Do everything you just said.”

  My pulse thuds in my ears, and my vision blurs with want.

  No, don’t do it, Solomon. I shut my eyes tight, praying for control. Maybe this is a test. Maybe—

  “Are you sure? It won’t change what happens next, Grace. I’ll still leave for Boston.”

  “I know,” she whispers, nodding. “But I’d rather have you only once and have this experience to cherish than wonder how it could have been every single day for the rest of my life. My first time, Sol, I want it to be with you. No one else.”

  I shift my weight from one leg to the other. “But wouldn’t you rather give it to someone who’ll spend the rest of your life with you?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “I want to have a piece of you with me. Something that is ours only, forever.”

  Everything grows fainter and fainter, and my vision goes blurry with want as this powerful desire consumes me whole. The need I’ve learned to control has broken loose.

  Suddenly seized by a craving so fierce I’m practically vibrating with it, I hoist her up my body. I cross the room to my bed and lay her down, my frame draping over hers. My mouth captures hers, and the second our tongues touch, we both groan in relief.

  “Finally,” she whispers into my mouth, but I kiss her words away and replace them with soft, desperate moans.

  If heaven has a sound, this must be it.

  Sol’s large body covers mine, pinning me to the bed as his hips roll, creating a friction between us. My hands are moving, touching him everywhere, unable to get enough. Sinewy muscles, broad chest, chiseled jaw, his back, his arms. My fingers finally have the freedom they’ve been craving, and nothing’s going to stop them.

  I grab the edge of his T-shirt and yank it up, up, up, but his arms are in my way and his hands are consuming every part of me with firm touches, leaving imprints on my skin.

  “Take this off,” I order him.

  He sits up on his haunches, grabs the edge of the T-shirt, and pulls it over his head, then throws it on the floor. His shorts and boxers get the same treatment. Then he’s kneeling in front of me, looking glorious. My eyes trail down his shoulders, his chest, down to the fine line of hair on his lower stomach. And finally, his hard length.

  He glances down at himself, then shyly at me, his cheeks flushing red. “I—um . . . well, is it okay? I mean—you know.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I say quickly, hoping to ease the discomfort so clear on his face. “I’ve never . . . seen one before, so—”

  His eyes widen, hopeful. “You never, you know, saw—” He coughs nervously. “Gavin or whatever?”

  I shake my head, biting my lips to keep from smiling. He’s so cute. “We mostly just kissed and never wandered anywhere below the waist.”

  The awkwardness disappears, and he smiles, and dear Lord, what a beautiful smile.

  “Your turn.” There’s a tremor in his voice that wasn’t there before as he leans forward and pulls me up so I’m sitting instead of lying flat on my back.

  He settles behind me, and the sensation is alluring. I lift my arms as he pushes my blouse over my head. Then he throws it on the floor. He unhooks my bra, and it joins the rest of our clothes. His lips trace my spine, and his warm breath feathers my skin. I groan when his hands move to my butt and lift me, then proceed to remove my skirt. He turns me around, and I fall on my back, eager and nervous as he sits back. His eyes take me in, pausing for several seconds when they reach the space between my legs. When he meets my gaze again, his blue one is like the night sky.

  He crawls up my body, and his tongue begins exploring me, my neck, my shoulders. He murmurs, “Sweet,” takes my nipple into his mouth, and growls deep in his throat as he sucks on it gently. You’d think with him being so big, he’d be clumsy and awkward, but he knows how to work his body.

  “Shit,” he says, burying his face into the crook of my neck. “I can’t . . . we can’t do this.”

  “What? Why?” The latter comes out on a shaky breath. I can’t believe this is happening.

  “Because I don’t have condoms. You could get pregnant and—”

  “I’m on the pill,” I say, relief pouring into me. “And we’re both virgins.”

  His head snaps up, and his eyes blink as if he’s trying to clear the fog in his brain.

  He flashes me a grin then, lifting his upper body. “Thank God. I was about to run into Ivan’s room and turn the whole place upside down.”

  He leans down, pressing his lips between my breasts, before raising his head and trailing shaky fingers down my stomach. They stop at my navel, circling once, twice, before moving down to my hips. His breathing picks up as they trace my skin there. My legs tense when his index finger soothes a path between my thighs. He lowers his head, and his mouth follows the same path his hand did. I’m sucking in air, shivering. His lips reach my navel, and my entire body feels like it’s coming apart at the seams. My back arches off the bed as my body chases his teasing mouth.

  I jolt upright when his warm breath tickles the skin between my thighs. “Wh-what are you doing?” I whisper or moan, I’m not sure. I feel him everywhere—his scent in my lungs, his touch in my bones, his thudding heartbeat in rhythm with mine as if we share one.

  “I don’t know,” he answers in a husky voice. “Your body is my only guide. And right now, it’s telling me you love what I’m doing to you.”

  My fingers sink into his hair and tug him up. “Come up here and kiss me.”

  He lifts his head and meets my gaze, that mischievous look I love so much shining in his eyes.

  “You don’t like it?” There’s un
certainty in his voice, however.

  “Oh, God. I do so much but—”

  “Good.” The confidence is back. His strong fingers grasp my thighs, and he parts my legs gently. “Lie back, Gracie.”

  I flop back on the mattress and cover my eyes with my arm. His head disappears between my legs. I feel a sharp bite on my inner thigh, and my gasp turns into a low moan when his tongue comes out to caress the skin, soothing the pain away. He murmurs under his breath as his nose touches the apex of my sex, and he groans deeply, the vibrations making my thighs shake.

  “Please, Sol. I can’t—I want you.”

  “You have me.”

  “No, no. I want you up here. Your mouth on mine and you, you inside me.”

  He presses another wet kiss on my inner thigh before shifting. He crawls back up my body, his hands brushing everywhere along the way. When he’s hovering above me, his arms planted on either side of my face, he lowers his head and brushes his lips against mine.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice cracking with need.

  I nod, licking my lips. My entire body is buzzing with want, burning with need. “Yes.”

  He looks down at the space between us and bites his bottom lip as he aligns himself with my entrance. Then he looks up and cups my face in his hands. “Promise me you’ll never forget this, Gracie.”

  “I promise,” I say, tears building in my eyes. I want to cry, and I promised myself I wouldn’t, but this moment, this moment feels infinite. Like nothing can come between us.

  I run my thumb down her cheeks, gently swiping away the tear running down her soft skin. The look in her eyes, the naked want, is thrilling, but the tears coursing down her cheeks confuse me.

  “You okay?” I ask, the tip of my dick only half an inch away from her heat. “We don’t have to do this.”

  “I’m okay! Really,” she counters, flinging her arms around my neck to hold me in place. “I’m just—this is a big deal. Plus, it’s you, Sol. You.” She smiles and kisses my mouth softly before dropping her head back on the pillow. “Love me,” she says breathlessly. “Make me yours.”

 

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