by Smoke, Lucy
He burned bright like the sun—they all did. Warming me from the inside and chasing away all the pain and dark shadows. My face pressed into soft fabric and my unbrushed, matted hair was stroked away from my cheeks. Long fingers slid through the strands and then tucked them over my ears. Feather-soft kisses rained down on my forehead, against my temples, on my cheeks, and closed eyelids.
When I finally managed to open my eyes and look up, I wasn’t shocked at all—though I felt like I should have been—by who it was. His eyes bore into mine, searching and insecure. But I knew he understood. The vulnerability that I had crashed into, that had washed over me even if for only a brief, soul-crushing moment, was reflected in those ice-blue eyes of his. And despite the uneven rise and fall of my shuddering breaths, when I leaned up and slanted my mouth over his—desperate for what, I wasn’t sure—he didn’t refuse me. No. Grayson welcomed it.
I fell into the kiss like drops of water from the clouds. Naturally. But I wasn’t ever quite sure where I was going to land. Grayson just let me go. He let me leap and no matter where I was going—in this moment, I was sure he’d catch me. His hands traced up and down my spine—stoking a hunger in me. I reached up and clutched his collar, pulling myself towards him.
I kept my lips pressed to his. He was my oxygen, my breath. My legs shifted over to either side of his hips and my core aligned with the seam of his jeans. Surprisingly, when I pulled back and gripped his hair—panting with the need for more, more safety, more feeling… just more—he let me lick at his lips. Grayson opened his mouth for me, groaned as I lowered my core over his growing erection. The sparks that danced through my bones chased away any lingering ill effects.
His large hands gripped my hips as he ground himself into me, shifting his hips until my breath caught once more. I pressed forward, dipping my tongue against his. This was different. Our first kiss had been hurried and rushed. Ripe with danger and knowing that we could have been caught at any minute. This was light and easy. Just as hot, yes, but incredibly freeing.
Could a person feel like they were flying and grounded all in one breath?
The answer: yes.
Grayson took over, crushing his lips against mine. Tongue sinking into my mouth and twining with mine. He cupped the back of my head with one hand and gripped my hips, keeping my lower body pinned to his with the other. I felt him pulse through our clothes and a shudder rippled up my legs. Tingles like little sharp points scraped against my flesh as Grayson devoured me.
Then that hand of his slipped around to my front. My eyes popped open. So did his. He waited, his fingers tracing the edge of my yoga pants as he waited for my permission. Something was happening. Right here. Right now. I could make a decision. What did I want to do? Did I want to ignore what I had heard him say? Or did I want to answer him?
He loved me.
Grayson Caruso loved me. Harlow Hampton. Normal girl extraordinaire. Well, I suppose I wasn’t normal anymore.
What did I want to do with that confession even if he hadn’t meant for me to hear? I know one thing I didn’t want to do and that was cut his golden thread. So, I took a breath and I nodded. Grayson kissed me again and slipped the tips of his fingers under the fabric. If he was surprised by my lack of underwear, he didn’t say or do anything to let me know. His fingers simply lowered down to my core and pressed against me, turning until they thrummed against a shocking bundle of nerves. I jumped in his arms, tearing my lips away.
“Are you okay?” he panted.
I clenched my hips on either side of him as his fingers stilled. “I don’t want you to stop,” I finally said, meeting his gaze. Our foreheads pressed together, and our breaths mixed as his entire hand disappeared into my pants and then a finger slid up inside me. I jerked again at the electricity of the feeling.
“Shhh.” His mouth lowered to the bared skin of my neck. He began to lick away the dried tears there and then he began to move. Grayson’s fingers pumped in and out, back and forth. I blinked, feeling a blinding, building tension climbing the walls of my insides. Something just out of reach but growing closer. Not unlike when Bellamy had put his mouth down there. I found myself rising up on my knees and then grinding down on his fingers.
The one inside me moved with purpose, with enough energy to leave me gasping and seeking that just out of reach spark. Grayson’s free hand moved to my chest sliding across the fabric that separated us. Even through the sports bra and tank top, I could see the outline of my nipple when I looked down. He pinched it and a noise that sounded halfway between a shriek and a moan was pulled from my lips. Even with the layers between his fingers and my nipple, I had felt the tug of that pinch down to where his other fingers continued to manipulate the nerves between my legs. I widened my knees, needing more, needing it harder.
Grayson grinned up at me, a smirk that reminded me of who he was when I had first met him—well, technically, when I had first actually paid attention to him. All smartass. It was hot and sexy as hell, that grin. Especially right now. With his hand in my pants, stroking me closer and closer to what promised to be a show of fireworks. It was like the walls were caving in and I was drowning under the crushing weight, but Grayson was there. He held them up. Put himself between me and the walls—and then he looked at me…when he looked at me something eased in my chest. It made me feel softer, warmer, less broken.
“Harlow,” he grunted, dropping the grin as another finger slid up inside me alongside the first. He scissored them apart and I gasped at the feeling of being stretched. “Babydoll.”
I squeezed my eyes closed, praying that he wouldn’t stop. And thankfully, he didn’t. His breathing increased and so did the speed of his fingers. They moved in and out and when his thumb moved back up to the little button above where his fingers were—I couldn’t stop myself. I gasped and ground myself down on his erection as hard as I could, rocking back and forth with the sensation of the overwhelming fire that raced across my skin. Grayson groaned and then rested his forehead on my shoulder as the hand he held at my chest shot down to his crotch and dove into the waistband.
Only when the fire fizzled out, did I realize we were both panting hard. Slowly, I opened my eyes and found his chest rising and falling to the pace of my own and his gaze on mine. “Wow.”
He smirked before kissing me quickly on the lips. “Wow is right, Babydoll. But with you, I kinda expect a lot of ‘wows’.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. So, when he pulled his hand from my pants and slid me off his lap, I didn’t protest. No matter how good resting against him had felt. “Um…” I trailed off, cheeks flushing. “I can…um…take care of you,” I offered lamely, “if you want.”
Grayson stood up and then slid his other hand out of his pants, revealing those fingers to be as sticky as the hand that had been in my pants. My cheeks didn’t just flush—they flamed a bright red. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, bumping the knobs on the sink with his elbow before pumping the soap dispenser the same way and letting a large amount of foam soap pile into his free hand. “I’m pretty sure it’s taken care of.”
Grayson finished washing his hands and then helped me stand. “You okay?” he asked.
I nodded as my eyes slid to the floor and stayed there until Grayson tucked a finger under my chin and raised me up. His lips were turned down. “I mean it, Harlow. Are you okay?”
I bit my bottom lip and though my head was tilted back so that his eyes could examine me, I kept my own gaze trained away—an embarrassed flush tinting my cheeks a dark pink. I knew because I could see the rising color in my reflection. "I'm fine," I assured him.
In my peripheral vision, I watched as his frown deepened. "Then why won't you look at me? Do you regret it?"
Finally, my eyes flashed to his. I blinked at the raging uncertainty I found in the depths of his gaze. It was so strong that it made my breath catch in my throat. "I don't regret it." That's the truth. That's what makes my chest clench—the fact that I don't regret it. And maybe he
saved me from my own crazy insecurities and fears, but that doesn't erase that there's still so much that we—him, me, and the guys—still need to talk about. I want to know—I have to know—if I've lost them. Grayson doesn't speak for them and maybe he can handle the fact that he now knows that I don't want to, that I can't, choose, but that doesn't mean any of the others can.
At my words, though, the tension in Grayson's shoulders and face eases. It doesn't disappear completely, but the lines around his mouth smooth out and his muscles unclench slightly. He drops my chin and reaches for my hand. "Good," he replied, squeezing my cold fingers.
He reached past me and pushed the door open. I let him tug me behind him, filing into the hospital room to find several angry and confused stares. My tongue slapped the top of my mouth and dried up. The chills of anxiety wrapped long, tentacled fingers around my neck. Marv's tornado eyes trailed down to where my fingers were clutched in Grayson's hand, accusation evident. Knix and Bellamy remained quiet, but I could see the vulnerability in their gazes—the question and the confusion. Surprisingly, Texas was the one that approached us first. When I thought he, too, would hold back, he moved right up to us and took my other hand.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
Somehow, I managed to unstick my tongue and answer him. "My head hurts a little," I admitted.
Texas' eyes squeezed with concern. He didn't even look at my other hand—the hand that Grayson refused to release. "The doctor wasn't sure if you should get pain meds, but if you think you need some, we can—"
I shook my head, squeezing his fingers back. "No," I said. "I can just take something over the counter or something." I chanced a look around the room. "Can you tell me exactly what happened? About the accident or anything?" I tilted my head up to Grayson as I recalled something else. "Why'd you text me to meet at the house?"
Grayson looked up and met Marv's gaze. Despite the clear electricity and underlying tension that raced between them, Marv answered Grayson's unspoken prompting. He stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest. "We found one of the informants for the police department and he's in the area. We were hoping to catch him and ask him a couple of questions. Caruso was going to go over where he had found the informant and then we were going to come up with a plan before we got the call about your...fall." Marv's jaw clenched between the slight pause.
"About the fall," Bellamy started, drawing the attention of the room. "The police think it was a hit and run. Someone obviously knocked you over, but whoever found you and called the ambulance didn't see anything."
"It was probably just an accident," I said, though a niggling sensation in the back of my mind made me question it. What kind of person would knock someone down and not do anything when that person never got back up? Maybe the person who called the ambulance was the perpetrator and was just too embarrassed to speak up. I sighed. I supposed it didn't matter now. "What about the informant?" I asked. "Are we too late?"
Knix shook his head. "No, Grayson pinpointed the informant's location and according to his social media accounts that Texas hacked—he'll be attending a party tonight."
"Okay," I said, pulling my hands from both Texas’ and Grayson's grip. "What's the plan?"
The guys exchanged glances before Knix met my gaze once more. "Little Bit," he started, "are you sure you're up for it? You did just—"
I shook my head, holding up my hands to stop him. "We need to find Erika and make sure that she's okay, and then..." I looked up to Grayson before stealing a glance at Texas. Then I turned my face towards Marv, Bellamy, and Knix. "Then maybe we can talk about...um...us?" I lifted one shoulder and tilted my head down towards it awkwardly.
Bellamy broke the silence that followed. "I think that's a good idea," he said, turning to Marv and Knix. "One thing at a time."
Thankful, I nodded. One thing at a time, I could do.
Chapter 15
Once again, I was preparing for a party that I wasn't a hundred percent comfortable with. But after being with the guys—being with Iris—for this long, I knew that we often needed to do things that made us uncomfortable or else we'd never get anything done. I needed to overcome my insecurities. I needed to swallow down the knowledge that the guys knew what had happened between Grayson and me in that bathroom and focus on what was important—finding Erika.
A knock on the bedroom door startled me and I nearly jumped away from my reflection in the cheap mirror hanging on the wall. "Almost done?" Bellamy called through the door.
I turned. "Actually," I called back, "I could use some help."
The door cracked, but he didn't fully enter the room. "What's wrong?"
"I can't get the zipper up."
"Are you um...covered? Or do you want me to just..." Bellamy trailed off, his hesitant tone clearly uncomfortable with seeing me undressed if he wasn't sure I wanted him to.
A small smile stretched across my lips. Even after everything, they were still gentlemen. "I'm fine," I said. "You can come in. I just need a little help."
The door widened, and Bellamy stood in the doorway wearing dark wash jeans with scuffs on the knees but no holes and a loose, light blue t-shirt that contrasted with his tan skin. He blinked. "Wow."
I looked down at the dress I was wearing. It was tight around...well, it was tight pretty much everywhere except where the zipper gaped down to the small of my back. "Does it look okay?" I asked, reaching down and tugging the short hem of the dress down a bit. Not that it budged. At all. My smile disappeared into a thin line and I grimaced. "Marv said this is what the girls would probably be wearing," I said.
"You look..." Bellamy stepped through the doorway, moving across the floor until he stood right in front of me. His dark chocolate eyes scanned down, over my slight curves. I had requested something simple and although Marv had kindly selected something that didn't have a plunging neckline—instead, choosing a dress that actually wrapped around my throat and covered my entire chest—the dress was so short that I didn't think it mattered that the design was just that, simple. Bellamy cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to his face once more. "You look amazing, Sweetheart."
I stared up at him in shock. But then I recalled—Knix had still used my nickname too. Despite my best efforts at forgetting all of the impending relationship stuff, I couldn't help but let it devour my mind every free second I had. Being this close to Bellamy with a lot of skin—legs, arms, shoulders, back—on display, it felt like I was tempting him on purpose. Though I knew he'd never take anything I hadn't offered, I wanted to offer. He had been the first to give me a taste and Grayson had only stoked the fires. I gulped.
"Thanks," I said lamely. "Um..." I turned my back on him. "C-could you zip me up?"
Bellamy’s fingers moved to my back. He gripped the end of the zipper where it was stuck down at the bottom just above my butt and tugged. When I had attempted sliding it up, it had snagged the zipper several times, but for him it glided up as smooth as butter until the dress was pulled taut around my form. I looked down at the dress and then turned and looked myself over in the mirror, hoping that I wouldn’t flash anyone tonight.
“What color is that?” Bellamy asked.
“I think Marv said it was champagne,” I replied. I smoothed my hands down over the sides. “Do you think it looks okay? I mean for the party? For the informant?”
Bellamy’s eyes met mine in the mirror. “I think you’ll capture our informant’s attention no problem, Harlow.” I sighed in relief. At least one good thing would happen tonight. We’d be one step closer to finding Erika. Just as Bellamy turned to the door to leave, I could have sworn I heard him mutter something that made me flip my head around and gape after him as he disappeared into the hallway. I could have sworn I heard him say, “And I’ll want to pulverize him and anyone else who looks at you.”
Knix was the one that caught me staring at the door, my hands crossed over my stomach as I hugged my arms close to my body. “Harlow?” He frowned, filling up the open doorway�
�dressed as casually as Bellamy had been. “Are you ready to go?”
Shaking away my thoughts and nerves I nodded and then wrinkled my nose at his attire. Bellamy would be staying in a nearby van with Texas since someone from Iris had arrived while I was in the hospital to transport Josh back to Charleston. It made sense that Bellamy wouldn’t be dressed up. Knix, however, was going to be with Marv, Grayson, and me at the party. “What are you wearing?” I asked. “Aren’t you going to change?”
He glanced down at his clothes, then back up at me. For the first time in what felt like forever, he quirked an amused grin. “You’ve never been to a party before, have you, Little Bit?”
I shrugged. “Not really.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll fit in.”
“Then why do I have to wear this?” I gestured down to the skin-tight cocktail dress.
His grin widened. “Because that’s what college girls go to parties in.”
I squinted at him as he reached for my elbow and pulled me out into the hallway and then the living room where everyone else was waiting sans fancy clothing. Darkness had fallen outside and the clock on the wall ticked just past 10 pm. “I better not be making a fool of myself wearing this,” I threatened, turning my suspicious gaze to Marv.
Marv, in turn, stared down at my legs. He opened his mouth, but it was Grayson who beat him to the punchline. “I can fucking promise you, Babydoll. The only fools tonight are going to be the assholes who try to hit on you.”
I rolled my eyes. “No one would even try that,” I said. “I’ve only ever been hit on by the guys that used to come into the diner.” And certainly not by anyone relatively attractive or even close to my age. Despite that admission, though, Knix, Marv, Bellamy, Texas, and Grayson shook their heads.