Page 70 of Sealing the Deal

I don’t know what to say. How much more can one man carry? And even though I know it’s stupid, there’s a part of me that longs to shoulder some of it for him.

“I’m sorry,” I say instead.

He shakes his head. “No. I am. That wasn’t how I wanted our evening to end.”

Something sparks between us. I bite my bottom lip. “How did you want it to end?”

His eyes darken as he closes the distance. His hands reach to cup my face, fingers threading into my hair. Then his lips press to mine, and instantly my knees are weak, my core on fire. I feel the heat of him through my sweater, his fingers digging into my sides as he anchors me in place in his arms. He deepens the kiss, lips coaxing mine open, and my hands find their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.

His fingers are moving again, trailing up my sides. I gasp when his thumbs brush against the hard peaks of my nipples through the fabric of my sweater.

Then he breaks the kiss, his breath ragged, his forehead resting against mine. When he talks, his voice is rough. “I’ve thought about having you in my arms since the second you left them on Monday.”

I’m suddenly aware of how much space he’s taken up in my head these past few weeks. How often I replay our conversations. The way he looks at me. How much I want him. I haven’t forgotten all the reasons this is complicated, but I want him anyway. Maybe this can’t be more than stolen moments like this. Maybe it has an expiration date already written into it. But right now, with his breath warm against my skin, I stop thinking about the end.

My hands slide up, wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. “What else did you think about?” I whisper.

His eyes are dark with want. “I’ve been thinking about how wet your panties are going to be the next time I slide my hand between your thighs.”

He leans in again, capturing my mouth in another heated kiss. This time, his hands are everywhere—tracing the curve of my hips, sliding up my back to tangle in my hair.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” His voice is a low growl. He takes my hand and moves it to the hard length of his erection. I bite my lip as he groans. Fuck, I want him. “How wet are you, Flic?”

“Soaking,” I whisper, tightening my grip. “And it’s all for you.”

“Fuck.” He glances around, and I know exactly what he’s thinking.

“I want you now,” I say, almost breathless with how much I want this, too. “Don’t make me wait another second.”

Grayson nods, striding to the door and flipping the lock, before moving back and taking me in his arms, lifting me from the ground like I weigh nothing. I gasp, my hands instinctively clutching his shoulders as he strides toward the pool table, his eyes locked on mine, and I can feel the heat radiating off him, searing into my skin.

He sets me down on the edge of the table, and before I can even think, his hands are on me, pulling at my sweater, yanking it over my head. I fumble with his shirt, my fingers trembling as I undo the buttons, desperate to feel his skin against mine. My bra goes next, tossed somewhere behind us. We wriggle out of the rest of our clothes until I’m laughing, and naked, sitting on the edge of the table. The laughter catches in my throat as he steps back, his eyes raking over me with an undeniable hunger.

His voice is low and rough as he rolls a condom on. “I feel like I need to point out that I’ve only been carrying protection with me since the weekend.”

“I’m glad you did,” I whisper. “Please, fuck me now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He steps forward, his hands gripping my thighs as he positions himself at my opening. I can feel him there, hot and hard, and my body tingles with anticipation, every nerve ending screaming for him. He pauses, teasing me, as his head dips down and he catches my nipple in his mouth, sucking, teeth and tongue, making me cry out.

Then he’s pushing inside me, agonizingly slow as I stretch to take him. He hits a spot deep inside causing his name to leave my lips on a gasp. “Grayson.”

I grip the side of the table, legs hooked around him as he pulls out and drives in again, faster this time. Harder.

He growls my name. “Flic, you’re so tight. So perfect for me. I never want to stop fucking you.”

I’m already close to the edge when his hand slips between my legs, his fingers finding that sensitive spot, and I moan, arching into his touch, needing more. Needing everything. He knows exactly how to drive me wild, his thumb circling me in time with his thrusts, and I feel myself unraveling, the pleasure building until it’s almost too much.

“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please, don’t stop.”

A slow smirk spreads across his face as he responds by slowing down, drawing out my pleasure, keeping me teetering on the edge. His eyes lock with mine as I cry out. “I’m going to come.”

The tension coils tighter and tighter until it snaps. Another thrust, another circle of his thumb, and I’m unraveling. Liquid pleasure scalds through my core. I think I cry out again as my orgasm pulses and shudders through my body.

Fuck.

This man.

If this is what terrible decisions feel like, I’m going to need a minute before I start making good ones again.