“Are you kidding? This is awesome.” I pulled out my phone to take pictures, a heady thrill brushing behind my ribs. It fastened an upturned slope to my already-aching jaw.
He stood back, watching me as I inspected every inch of the room with the fervor of my younger self. I saw some things I had forgotten about. Stopped to sing theme songs to some of my favorite shows.
His body was turned to me, open, a sparkle glinting in his eyes. “There’s plenty more to see,” he said, moving toward the next door, on the edge of a chuckle.
The next room played “Smells Like Teen Spirit” as images of teens jumping up and down from a projector covered the far wall. Hundreds of plaid shirts were suspended from the ceiling that we had to walk through, the fabric brushing against my bare shoulders. Old couches were ripped up and scattered about to sit on.
We continued through two more rooms, and then I nearly screamed when I recognized the reconstructed bow of the Titanic with a painted sunset as the backdrop.
Of course, Celine Dion’s voice swam through the speakers.
I ran up to the railing and turned, facing Grayson, who stood with his hands in his pockets, studying me with an intensity that inflamed the blush that lived behind my skin.
“Come on,” I said, waving him over. “We have to.”
He made a feeble attempt to disguise his smirk with a groan as he approached. Slipped his arms under mine, lifting them as if we were two birds. I felt something unfurling in me, blooming, the petals of my emotions exposing themselves to the sun. To him.
“With you, I fly,” I whispered to him. To myself.
He placed a small kiss to my neck, his words a gentle exhale against my goose-bumped skin. “And with you, I soar.”
The moment, fleeting in its beauty, was stolen by the door opening behind us. A group of girls ushered into the room, gushing over the many pictures of Leonardo DiCaprio pinned to the walls.
Grayson took my hand in his, pulling me through another room. Bright blue and pink lights hung from the ceiling. They were everywhere. On the walls. Skimming the ground. We moved through the curtains of lights to the center of the room where a projector of waves kept crashing against the floor.
Dave Matthews’s voice crooned overhead, singing the same song that played at the record shop.
My hand shot to my mouth as Grayson stood behind a few strands of lights, just out of reach.
“This is your surprise.” He pushed a one aside, moving closer.
Waves continued to crash over us as he closed the distance, the music swelling and blossoming around us. Every step was in sync with my heart. Every fleeting second throbbing with heady anticipation.
Then, wrapped within the lights, slowly, he pulled me to him and then crushed his lips against mine as the chorus began.
My hand wove through his hair as my heart seemed to pulse beneath every inch of my skin. Living … I was fully and completely living in this moment, breathing it in. Letting it consume me. A flood of sensations surged through my blood when his tongue slid into my mouth. Warm and soft. Dancing. Twisting. Every movement he made, I mimicked, trying to sync myself wholly with him. Completely.
The lyrics surrounded us, invisible strings tying us together. Tethering the expansiveness of this spell to our souls. He held my face, our tongues exploring one another. He tasted of sorrow and hope. Burned with pleading and desire. I surrendered everything. All of me. Never wanting to come up from this.
“Prim,” he whispered against my lips, running his over mine. Over my cheek. On the bridge of my nose.
My name was a plea off his lips. A prayer of a word.
Our foreheads came together. Rested against one another as our chests collided in uneven pitches.
Magic.
That was what this kiss had been.
His hands ran up the sides of my arms. “You’re shivering.”
My teeth pulled my upper lip in as I tried to calm the ardent beat of my heart. Nervous laughter peppered the air between us. “I’ve never … I’ve always dreamed of being kissed like that.” My lids fluttered open. A soft peck placed against his lips, pouring my satisfaction into him.
And I realized then that I wanted more. More of his mouth. More of his hands. I wanted it all, and I wanted it with a fire I feared could never be quelled. For him, I’d give it all. Every inch, inside and out. This was what I’d been waiting for … this feeling of fire personified. This desire to give as well as take.
Oh, yes. Give, I thought, I think I’m finally ready to give my virginity.
Taking my hand again, he pulled me into the last room. “End of the Road” by Boyz II Men serenaded the space, which was filled with a life-sized cardboard computer with Y2K painted across the screen. I wasn’t sure if it was from the nerves still fluttering in my stomach or the fact that I had just experienced the most amazing kiss I could have ever dreamed of, but the knot in my stomach loosened as a cackle of laughter wheezed out of me.
Grayson was right there with me, clutching his stomach and pointing to the computer. To the expression that’d had our entire world in a frenzy, thinking our existence would end.
“Thank you,” I said, spinning to find the hazel of his eyes. “This was … perfect.”
Sincerity curved on his lips. “For you, anything.”
Once we were outside, underneath the velvet night sky, we faced each other, questions lingering in the air. I didn’t want the night to end. Not yet. And I thought he might feel the same too.
“Will you come back to my place?” he asked, chewing the side of his mouth. “I have one more surprise for you.”
He was a thorn. A shard of broken glass on the floor, waiting to slice me open.
Is this how it went with the other women? A lovely night and an invite up?
I knew the answer. No. There was nothing about the glow of his eyes when focused on me that said he was in it for only one thing. Nothing hiding inside his kiss that had warned me off.
“Yes,” I said, taking his hand. “I’d love to.”
After we grabbed a bite to eat from a sandwich shop, I found myself standing outside his front door while he put the key in the lock.
“Close your eyes.”
Smiling, I did.
A second later, I felt his hands gripping my waist, tiny electric shocks pulsing beneath his touch. Step after step, he guided me forward, laughing when I put my hands out as a precaution.
“Okay,” he said, “open.”
My mouth parted in wonder. The night sky was somehow covering the entirety of his bedroom wall, draped with white fabric. It was of the moon, a million stars speckled around it. More lights were strung around the area, which was littered with pillows of every texture.
I found a spot to sit and crossed my legs, staring up at the wall. “You did all this for me?”
“You said you used to like to sit and watch the stars back home. I know there’s too much light pollution here, so I thought I’d bring the stars to you.”
“How?”
He took a seat beside me, propping an arm on one knee. “A projector. I know someone who’s tech savvy. This is what we’d see right now if there was no light pollution.”
My hands covered my mouth as heat flooded my eyes. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before. I don’t … there aren’t enough words, Grayson. It’s absolutely perfect.”
The way his eyes danced over my face, with such tender affection, woke something inside me. A hibernating confidence. A surety dressed in desire.
Crawling to him, I rested on my knees, leaning in with eyes closed. Our kisses danced on the edge of modest arousal. Exploring. Tasting. Drinking each other in. He was uncharted territory, and I was mapping every inch of every second. Of him. The curve at the end of his jaw and where it went soft just below his skin. I learned he liked when I kissed there. The spark of a moment when our tongues met, and he let out a slow-burning growl.
His hands drifted up my thighs, leaving a trail of fire until
they were on my face, thumb caressing my cheeks with such delicate care. I felt my bones expanding beneath my skin. Crawling, writhing to break free.
Slowly, I lay back, pulling him with me, his body moving in beside mine. Nothing but the sounds of our heavy breaths filling the air. My heart vibrated hard enough behind my ears I was sure he could hear it. I placed his hand on my chest, over the spot where my soul cried out for him and, for a moment, we stilled, his gaze studying my face, my eyes pleading for him to give me more. To teach me. To show me all I’d been missing.
“I didn’t bring you here for this.” He brushed his thumb just behind my ear, voice quaked with emotion. “Don’t get me wrong,” he added with a small chuckle. “I’ve thought about this quite often. I just … I want you to know we can go at your pace. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“That’s the thing,” I said, sucking on my bottom lip. “I do want this … so badly.”
I pulled his lips against mine, our teeth clanging together from the force. Every sensation that filled my body was new and addictive. A surge of heat and thirst unlike anything I’d ever known.
I ran my hands over the hills of his arms, the expansiveness of his chest, the dip of his back, all while our mouths danced. Every inch of him was seared into my memory, building this hunger, this need, that pulsed beneath my skin like a living, breathing thing.
His knee moved between my thighs, slowly, expertly, the weight of his body resting comfortably on top of me. Pools of liquid desire formed deep in my belly. His hand roamed under my shirt, up my side, before stopping inches below my bra. My skin burned for him to go further. To touch me where no other man had.
I moved my lips down the side of his jaw to his neck as I arched into him, urging his hand to devour more of me. He cupped my breast, his palm large and warm, his thumb brushing across my hard nipple through the sheer fabric. A moan pushed past my lips at the feel of his hands on me. At the electric zap of his thumb as it played with my swollen peak.
“Grayson,” I said, pushing into him. Wanting more.
My brain was adrift in the sea of pleasure. Lost. One crushing wave away from giving in to it all.
His hand brushed the lace fabric of my bra aside, the newness of his touch sending a shuddering thrill beneath my skin. I couldn’t explain the quaking desire that rewired my every train of thought. All I could focus on were his hands and how I wanted more of them.
He sat up, and I followed. Pulled my shirt over my head. All I could do was breathe through every second. Invite every sensation in so I could study them later. He leaned forward. Slipped his hands around my back while his lips played along my neck. I felt the moment the clasp of my bra popped free. The heady air brushing against my skin that felt like one giant, pulsing nerve.
When he pulled back, he sucked in a tight breath. “You’re beautiful, Prim. Fucking perfect.”
I tugged at the hem of his shirt, wanting to feel his chest against mine. Wanting to be closer.
He read my cues, wearing a smirk as he settled back on top of me. Kissed the sensitive slope of my neck. Took his time blowing heat across the line of my collarbone. I was shivering from the inside out. A melted mess of desire beneath him.
When his kisses trailed closer to my breast, I couldn’t stop the shaking. The hot, liquid anticipation. He took his time, tasting every inch of my skin until his tongue flicked over my nipple.
I cried out at the sensation. At the surge of heat between my legs.
His mouth sucked and tugged, my mind spinning with glorious arousal as his hand disappeared beneath my skirt, slowly sliding up the inside of my thigh. With his eyes on mine, he continued forward, almost as if checking if it was okay.
Another flick of his tongue, and I lost eye contact, moaning with the craving to quench this thirst I’d only just realized I needed. His fingers reached my center, a thumb gliding up and down the slick folds with such ease, such reverent patience, I felt I could explode.
“Grayson!” His name rolled of my lips as a plea, my hips bucking of their own will. “Please.”
He brushed my panties aside. Continued the sensual pace of pressure against the ache building in me as my world seemed to split in half, with him at the core. When I felt his finger hovering against the outside of me, my nails dug into his back.
I needed him. This.
Carefully, he slipped his finger in, the tightness of the fit pushing me closer to surrender.
“Jesus, Prim,” he said before stealing my lips against his.
His kisses were brambles tearing into my skin. Marking me. My love bubbled to the surface.
On instinct, I unbuttoned his pants. Tugged on the fabric until he realized what I wanted. He pulled them down enough to free his desire. My eyes widened at the sight of him, heart pattering behind bone. Trepid and shaking, I reached for the hard length. Slid my hand over the heated skin wrapped around stiff desire. The growl that rushed past his lips only added to my pleasure as I began to pump, wanting to make him feel everything I felt.
He filled my palm, hot and hard, as his finger moved in and out, the slick sensation melting my thoughts into frenzied heat. My hips moved with him. Against the palm he kept ready and available. He pushed into my hand, in and out, our chests colliding with uneven breaths.
“Prim.” The strain in his voice matched what I felt. Neither of us were in control. Not anymore.
When his mouth sucked in my nipple, colors burst beneath my skin. I moaned his name as I rode the wave he’d created. A pillow fisted in my hand. Thighs and stomach rigid with strain.
He bucked once and then twice into my hand. A throaty moan wobbled past his lips as a warm, slick wetness dripped down my wrist.
When he collapsed beside me, my thoughts slowly returned. I was shivering and coated with sweat. His finger still inside me. His lips whispering secrets against mine.
“You’re so sexy when you come,” he said, his lips trailing below my ear.
When he pulled his finger out, I already missed the connection. The intimacy of his touch. I was taking it all in. The way he felt in my hands. The onslaught of his desire covering my wrist.
He grabbed his T-shirt and wiped it off for me. We both laughed at the subtle shock I didn’t hide very well, and then he pulled me against him. We lay there, chest to chest, as a sated calm washed over me.
“You make me feel things I’ve never felt before,” he said, his lips against my hair.
“I can attest that it’s the same for me. Literally,” I said with a sly smile.
His head withdrew just enough so he could see my face. “It’s more than that, Prim. It … it scares me how easy this is with you. I’ve never before felt what I feel for you. I think I’m … hell, I don’t even know how to say it.”
My heart froze in place at his admittance, a cold bucket of reality dousing my happiness. I knew I needed to tell him the truth, but I couldn’t find the right tools to do so. This was all wrong. Suddenly, my tongue felt twisted and heavy. My words jumbled and shivering, hiding behind fear.
How could I explain to him what Quinn wanted from me without losing him? Would he even believe me if I told him I’d never go through with it? How could he, knowing I’d waited this long to tell him? When telling him would go against what Quinn asked of me?
Why? Why did you let it get this far?
“You feel it too, right?” The hesitancy in his voice was unlike him, his eyes imploring mine. “Tell me I’m not insane.”
I sat up, feeling like a fraud. Like a heartless jerk. Like my stomach was seconds away from crawling up the back of my throat and out of my mouth. I didn’t want to be the one to hurt him. I needed … I needed to regroup. Find a way to tell him without ruining what we just shared.
I needed … I needed to talk to my sister.
As I put my bra on, he sat up with me, handing me my shirt.
“What’s wrong?” The worry in his tone only dug my hole even deeper.
“Nothing.” I t
ried to fake a smile, but it was no use.
“Did I go too far?”
“Grayson, I …” I stilled. Rested a hand on his cheek. “This was perfect. You’re perfect. I just … I have to go.”
“You can stay,” he said, pulling my hand into his.
Tears burned behind my eyes. I didn’t want to break in front of him. I knew if I stayed, I would. I would confess. I would plead. And, inevitably, I would lose him.
So I did what I always did when things got too hard.
“Prim, wait!” he called as I headed for the door, sliding my shoes on in between steps.
Before he could stop me, I was out in the night, running down the sidewalk as tears streamed down my face.
The problem was, I felt it too. Maybe even more.
In hindsight, that was the moment I should have told him everything.
Instead, I ran.
Girlfriend Material
Grayson
I BARELY HAD MY SHIRT on when I rushed out the front door after Prim.
She was already gone by the time I made it outside. A ghost. A shooting star I had no business trying to catch.
I didn’t understand it. What had I done wrong? Had I said too much? Had I scared her off with my almost … my almost what? Confessions to feelings I’d been denying for quite some time? Feelings I’d never felt before. For anyone.
Yes. That was exactly what I’d been on the cusp of doing.
Had she sensed that? Was that what had driven her from me?
I couldn’t believe that because I knew Prim. I had seen it in her eyes. She felt the same.
Pulling my phone out, I dialed her number. Cursed when it went to voice mail. Instead of trying again, I opened a text and wrote:
Whatever it is, we can talk about it. Please, just don’t shut me out.
I tucked the phone into my pocket and headed inside, a gaping hole ripping through my heart. I hadn’t realized how much I’d fallen for her until the other night when she’d stayed over. When we’d danced at the memory of my mother. When I’d finally let her in.
Love in the Headlines: A Star-Crossed Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Love in the Headlines Series Book 1) Page 18