by L. D. Davis
As I went up the stairs to my room, I felt even worse than I did before I left. When I opened my door and found the bed that should have been full of small sleeping girls empty, instead of feeling elated to have my space back, I felt more apart from my family than ever before.
Chapter Eighteen
I slept late the next morning, until it became impossible to ignore the noise of eighteen individuals and one dog. I sat on the edge of my bed as I tried to come to some kind of decision. My vacation was supposed to be enjoyable, relaxing, and stress-free, and I wasn’t feeling any of it. Plus, I had no idea what the rest of the days would be like after last night’s fight.
After several minutes of consideration, I decided to first test the waters. I knew it would be a little tense with my cousins, but if it was too much, I would go back home to Philly, or find another beach town and go alone.
I leisurely showered and washed my hair before slipping into a long, strapless, and coral-colored sundress and a pair of silver flip flops. My wrist was adorned with the paperclip bracelet Natalie had made for me. I hadn’t taken the hideous thing off since she had given it to me. No one had even asked me about it, which made my anger flare again, but I took a few deep breaths and tried to let it go.
I went downstairs, carrying my big white floppy hat and beach bag with me just in case I needed to make another quick escape.
It was chaos, a little more than usual. I had forgotten until that moment that a trip to Point Pleasant was planned for the day so that the kids could get on some rides, play games, and get high off junk food.
When I walked into the kitchen where the majority of the adults were, tension seemed to pour into the room. No one stopped talking, and everyone continued on as they were while I poured myself a cup of coffee, but it was obvious that my presence created a palpable unease.
“Mayson, are you still going to Point Pleasant?” Donya asked me after a couple minutes.
It was as if she had just asked me the most personal question ever, because Emmy, Luke, and Tabitha fell silent and watched me with intensity.
I wasn’t sure if I was going to go or not, but I didn’t get a chance to answer. The doorbell rang. From where I stood, I had a direct line of sight to the front door. I didn’t really care who it was waiting on the porch, but it gave me a moment to think as Emmy and Tabitha also turned their attention toward the front of the house.
Leo opened the door and I froze. Although he was a pretty big guy, the man standing opposite him was an even bigger guy. Tall, dark, and mine.
The two men shook hands before Leo stepped aside and let Grant, Alex, and Natalie inside. Nat hugged Dusky, who nearly knocked her over in his excitement. She looked around at the other kids nervously before her eyes traveled down the hall and found me in the kitchen.
“Mayson!” she cried, and ran to me.
I don’t remember putting my coffee down and stepping away from the counter, or even scooping the little girl into my arms, but seconds later, I found myself standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding Natalie, hugging her to me. My cousins looked on with bewilderment, but no one was more bewildered than me.
“Are you supwised?” Natalie asked, pulling back to look into my face.
“I am very surprised, Nat,” I said hoarsely.
What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I so emotional over a kid? I didn’t even like kids, but when Alex came into the kitchen, I smiled at him and swallowed hard several times to hold back my tears.
“Hey,” I said to him, running my hand over his head. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He gave me a quick, half a hug, but quickly moved away, as grossed out by the affection as I would normally have been.
Grant was in the room, shaking hands with the men, hugging the women, and enduring Sam’s compliments about his good looks. The space was bursting with people as many of the kids piled in as well, but I didn’t really notice or care. People spoke to me and asked me questions, but my brain couldn’t understand their words. My eyes stayed glued to Grant’s every movement and every word as he became my center of gravity.
When he finally laid his eyes on me, I absently put Natalie down and went to him. The moment his arms closed around me, the tension that was inside me broke. A shocked hush swept through the room as I burst into tears against Grant’s chest.
“Hey,” he said softly as his arms tightened around me. “What’s wrong, Baby Girl? You can’t be that happy to see me.”
But I was that happy to see him. I didn’t know until he arrived how much I needed him. If I still had any doubts up until that moment, they were extinguished forever. It had become abundantly clear that Grant and his little minions filled the emptiness inside me. Somehow, the small family of three had adhered itself to my heart and soul.
I no longer felt alone. I hadn’t been alone since Grant came back into my life, it just took me a little while to realize it.
I was happy, but my fight with the family had really gotten to me, more than I had initially believed. I was simply overrun with too many emotions, and all I wanted to do was curl up against Grant.
There were some whispers and kids were herded out of the room, and most of the adults exited as well.
“We’re about to take all the kids to Point Pleasant,” I heard Luke tell Grant in a hushed tone. “I know you don’t know us very well, but we’d be happy to take your kids along. You and Mayson can stay here and talk and join us later if you want.”
“We don’t have enough room unless we take Mayson’s car,” Donya said, also speaking very softly.
I didn’t understand why they were talking so quietly as if I were a bomb they would accidentally set off with noise.
Grant seemed to consider Leo’s offer.
“It’s okay,” I told him, though I wasn’t sure if he understood me. It came out pretty garbled, but I felt him nod a moment later.
“Take Mayson’s car,” he said, making that decision for me.
“Great. We’ll take good care of your kids,” Luke promised. I felt the two men shake hands and then heard Luke exit the kitchen.
I felt Donya’s hand smooth over my hair. “Her bedroom is upstairs and straight back. Maybe she’ll be more comfortable up there until everyone leaves.”
“Thank you.”
I heard her light footsteps leave the room.
Grant pulled away a little and looked down at my face. He wiped my cheeks with his fingers and offered me a small smile. He didn’t say anything but kissed me lightly on the mouth before leading me down the hall and up the stairs. I felt many eyes on us, but I didn’t have it in me to look back.
After seating me on the bed and kissing the top of my head, Grant went back downstairs for a few minutes to talk to Nat and Alex. I tried to quit crying, but the tears kept coming, and my chest continued to shudder with sobs. I was so pathetic.
When Grant returned, he sat down with his back against the headboard. I hitched my dress up over my knees and straddled his lap. He looked a little surprised—which was understandable since I was just as surprised—but I wiped that look off his face when I put my hands on his cheeks and kissed him.
Reluctantly, he kissed me back, but I was relentless as I kissed him hard and met his tongue with eagerness. My eyes continued to leak fat tears, adding a slightly salty taste to our kiss.
He pulled away after a couple minutes. He swiped his thumbs under my eyes, wiping away more moisture.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, slightly breathless.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” was all I would offer before kissing him again.
He groaned as I kissed him deeper and harder. I loved the shape of his mouth, the softness of his lips, and his firm, silky tongue. The fingers on one of his hands wound into my curls as his other hand slid restlessly up and down my side, always stopping just below my breast.
I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to get carried away and go too far, and I didn’t want to wait anymore. I wanted to push him to the brink and then p
ush him over the edge and take the fall with him.
It wasn’t just want or desire. It was a need, an urgent requisite that had to be filled. Any fear that had been with me even in the smallest doses in the past was gone. All that was left was my love and my hunger.
I rocked my hips against him, and yes…there it was. The proof of his arousal, hard, firm, and trapped behind two layers of fabric.
I gasped and Grant moaned, but our mouths stayed connected. His hands flew to my sides in an attempt to hold me still, to keep me from rocking against him again, but I did do it again with the same result. He held on to me more firmly and his fingers dug almost painfully into my flesh.
He broke the kiss and tilted his head back and gazed up at me. I stared back at him, silently daring him to let me go, to let me do what we both wanted me to do.
As the noise from downstairs began to move outside and car doors started to slam, I put my hands on Grant’s. I continued to stare into his eyes as I attempted to move his hands off my waist. Physically, he was stronger than me, and maybe his will was stronger than mine most of the time, but this wasn’t going to be one of those times.
Slowly, I moved his hands up my body. He resisted some, but that resistance faded more every second. With a shuddering breath, I brought his hands to my breasts.
“Touch me,” I whispered with desperation. “Please.”
He looked into my wet eyes, his handsome face creased with a mixture of concern and desire.
“Please,” I repeated.
He opened his mouth to speak, but I put a hand over his mouth and shook my head.
“I don’t want to fucking talk about it, Grant.”
I reached down between us and stroked him through his shorts and made him moan. His hands reflexively squeezed my breasts.
“No talking,” I said, nearly panting as his thumbs moved over the sensitive tips. “Just feeling.”
Suddenly, his hands were in my hair and he robbed me of my breath as his mouth covered mine in a demanding, unforgiving kiss. His hands slid down over my shoulders and his fingers hooked into the top of my dress. He pulled away from my mouth and looked into my eyes for non-verbal consent. I gave it to him with a slight nod of my head, and half a second later he was pulling my dress down over my breasts.
“Oh, Mayson,” he murmured, looking at my chest with awe.
With a moan of relish, he sucked one taut nipple into his warm mouth. I groaned and gently held the back of his head as I watched him suckle me.
I was so glad that he didn’t hesitate again, that he understood that I knew what I wanted and didn’t need any further questions.
He switched to my other breast and gave that one equal attention as his hands slowly ran up and down my back and side. When he released my nipple, he pulled my head down for another deep, hot kiss as his hands massaged my breasts.
Anxious to have him, I broke the kiss, slid back into his lap a little and eagerly pushed his T-shirt up and over his hard stomach. I ran my fingertips over it, down and over his navel, and down to his jeans. He watched me heatedly and played with a few tendrils of my hair as I made quick work unbuckling his belt. Biting my bottom lip with anticipation, I released the button on his jeans and pulled the zipper down.
Breathing heavily and staring into his brown eyes, I reached into his boxer briefs. When my hand closed around the thick and long erection, we both gasped. He was bigger than I remembered, or maybe it had just been a very long time.
I stroked him root to tip once, twice, and three times, making him groan and thrust into my hand with each stroke. When I released him, we both reached for my dress. He was just as eager as I was to get it out of the way.
With a little bit of effort, we hiked the dress up and over my thighs. I held onto it as Grant’s fingers moved over my damp panties, making me moan loudly. He rubbed me hard for a moment before pulling them to the side as he put a hand on my hip and pulled me close. I pushed up on my knees as I positioned myself over him.
We’d barely had any foreplay, and we were both still dressed, but he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. There would be other times to take it slow, and we both seemed to understand that as our eyes locked.
I reached down between us with my free hand and adjusted him so that he was at my entrance.
“I love you,” Grant whispered, just before I lowered myself onto his erection.
I gasped. My eyes widened and my mouth hung open as I slowly eased myself down on him, taking him inside me inch by inch. Both of his hands were holding my hips, his fingers again digging into me as his jaw locked with restraint. He had always been the one to take the lead in the past when we made love, but things had changed. He knew that he had to let me feel like I was in control.
I moaned as he invaded me, filled me, and possessed me. Once I was completely seated on him, I was gasping and knotting his shirt in my hands. I dropped my forehead to his as I tried to get acclimated with his size. He kissed my mouth lightly with small, tender kisses, as he patiently waited for me to be ready.
Finally, I laced my fingers behind his head and moved carefully and slowly at first. Grant made guttural sounds of desire as his mouth moved over my collar bone toward my neck.
Maybe under different circumstances, we would have made love, with leisure and sweetness, but I wanted immediate gratification, and I didn’t want it sweetly. Feeling the restraint in Grant’s body, I had a strong feeling he didn’t want it to be that way, either.
I have no eloquent words to describe how things proceeded, because it wasn’t a beautiful thing that happened. There wasn’t any grace or elegance in what we did. It was hot, hard, and fast. We held on to each other and let go; we held nothing back. I don’t know if he was fucking me, or I was fucking him, but we moved together with moans and groans and muttered curses. Sweat trickled down my temples and glistened on my chest, and Grant’s brow was shiny with perspiration. The springs of the mattress creaked and the headboard banged against the wall as my breasts bounced against him.
“Mayson,” he grunted out my name. I could see tension in his jaw and neck. “I’m so…”
He didn’t have to finish what he was saying. I already knew it. He was close to his orgasm, and he was trying hard not to come before me. Grant was always a gentleman like that. He always pleased me before taking his own pleasure, and all our years apart hadn’t changed that.
What had changed, though, was me. Sex—and the subsequent orgasms—used to be easy when I was younger, but the events of my life severely impacted my sexuality. The sexual being I wanted to be was far from the sexual being I actually was.
Just as I began to wonder if I would be able to get there, it started to happen. My body tensed. Warmth rushed through my veins like a flash fire. The tingling that ran up and down my spine and to my extremities was so intense that I began to tremble. There was a powerful pulsing between my thighs as my inner walls started to contract around Grant’s thick cock.
The tension in my muscles suddenly intensified and my body went rigid. My vision blurred and I forgot to breathe. Small, animal-like sounds emitted from my mouth as waves of pleasure raced through my body. I felt like I was melting, disintegrating, and exploding all at once. I felt like a volcano, erupting with heat that burned and sizzled.
“Grant!” I cried out as I held on to him like my life depended on it.
My hips shook uncontrollably as my orgasm tore through me. Part of me wanted to stop and get off him because he was so deep inside of me, but at the same time, I didn’t want it to end. I wanted my climax to roll on and on until it took the life out of me.
Grant’s control waned as I fell apart.
“I want you to feel me,” he groaned and growled as he painfully gripped my hips and thrust hard and deep. “Feel me coming inside you,” he grunted.
Suddenly, he stilled, and held me in place. He groaned deep and loud as I felt him pulsating inside of me. I felt the warmth of him, spurting hotly. For a moment, I thought that I really w
ould die from pleasure, because my fading orgasm found new life as I shared in Grant’s climax.
When it finally came to an end, all the strength left my body. My muscles grew slack and my mind went numb. I barely had enough sense left to lift myself off him. I collapsed on the bed beside him, boneless, mindless, and immensely satisfied.
Grant traced patterns across my bare back as he lay beside me on the bed. I had removed my dress and panties before stretching out naked on my stomach. I felt amazingly relaxed, the most I had been in more time than I could remember.
“What are you drawing?” I asked, my voice soft and sleepy.
“Butterfly wings,” he said, smiling.
“What color are my wings?”
He watched his fingers sweep over my back. “It changes. Right now they’re blue, which means you’re calm and tranquil. A little while ago, they were blazing red with energy and passion. I like red. I like red almost as much, if not the same as yellow.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What does yellow symbolize?”
“Hope.” He met my eyes. “Happiness. Joy.” His fingers eased down my spine, making me shiver. “I love your pretty wings, even when they are black and seem to be too heavy for you to carry.”
He caressed my cheek with the back of his hand as his smile faded away and was replaced with concern, as it had been earlier when I was blubbering in his arms.
“Why did you cry?” he asked.
I was quiet for a moment, absently biting my lip as I considered his question. Finally, I sighed and said, “I want to tell you, but even though I am mad and fighting with my family, I don’t want you mad and fighting with my family. Does that make sense?”
“It does make sense, but you know I will only step in if I really have to. I know you can take care of yourself. I know you can handle just about anything. You don’t need a hero, Mayson. You can, and have saved yourself. You need someone to have your back, and I do.”
My heart seemed to overflow at that moment. I felt all mushy and disgustingly in love. If I were a character in a romance movie, I’d want to slap the sappy smile off my face, but I couldn’t help it. Those few words meant so much. It meant that he believed in me, believed in the strengths I didn’t even know I possessed. He didn’t want to take over and lead the way. He didn’t want me to give up any control as some women did. He trusted me to know my own path, and that meant everything.