Page 186 of Cross Check

“I want to make tonight good for you.”

“I already know it’s going to be good.” Amelia curls her finger in my direction, beckoning me forward. I walk her way like I’m a damn dog on a leash being called home. I’m not sure there’s anywhere she could ask me to go where I wouldn’t fucking crawl to get to. “Last time was good, wasn’t it?”

Better than good.

I’ve replayed it a thousand times. Her face is the only thing I see when I wrap my hand around my cock and stroke myself into a fucking mess.

“Yeah.” I nod. “It was amazing.”

“Tonight is going to be the same.” She puts her palm low on my stomach and lifts my shirt half an inch. Her fingers brush against my bare skin, and my hips buck at the contact. “I don’t want you to put any pressure on yourself.”

“I want it to be perfect for you.” I touch her cheek, tipping her head so I can kiss her neck. “You deserve perfect.”

“I don’t want perfect. I want you, Grant.” Her hand dips in the top of my jeans, and I close my eyes. “Can I have you?”

“Yes,” I rasp. “You can have everything you want, Lia.”

FIFTY-SEVEN

AMELIA

Grant is making it difficult for me to keep it together.

He looks ridiculously good in his T-shirt and the jeans that sit low on his hips. The rough gravel of his voice is a caress between my legs, and I squeeze my thighs together when his eyes stay locked on mine. They sweep over my face and I swallow, the enormity of what we’re about to do hitting me with full force.

It’s his first time having sex, but it feels like it’s my first time all over again too. I remember when I last slept with someone I cared about deeply, and as he stands in front of me, I understand that this is something so much bigger than a physical step in our relationship.

I’m ready for it.

“What time do you need to leave?” Grant strokes his knuckles down, down, down. He touches my collarbone before moving lower, between my breasts. “How long do I get to have you tonight?”

“Practice is at eleven tomorrow.” Anticipation stirs in my belly. Heat from nervous excitement swirls at the base of my spine. I’m turned on and aching for him, the weeks without his touch reaching a breaking point the second he ghosts over my nipples with his thumb. “I need to head out around nine.”

“That means I can get you off then cook you breakfast in the morning. How do pancakes, sound, Lia?”

“Pancakes sound nice.” I run my palms up his chest, smiling at the ridges of his muscles that flex under my fingertips. “So do the next twelve hours we’re going to have together.”

“Guess we should get started, huh?”

“What are you waiting for, Grant? An invitation?” I reach up and tug on the strands of hair at his nape. His breath stutters, and I give him a coy smile. “I want you to fuck me.”

Grant tugs me to my feet and kisses me. It’s rough, like we’re fighting against borrowed time. His tongue swipes over my mouth, his teeth nip at my bottom lip. I murmur out a whine of acceptance when he maneuvers us around the room and my back connects with the wall behind me.

“What’s the rush?” He hitches my leg around his waist, and I sigh when his fingers move to my bare knee. “I’ve barely had the chance to admire you. To tell you that I like your outfit.”

“You could take it off.” I drop my head against the wall when he sucks on my neck. “The sooner, the better.”

“Let me indulge in a fantasy first.” Grant lifts my skirt and bunches it at my waist. He lowers himself to his knees then turns his head so he can kiss my hip. “Fuck. Lace? This is pretty. Fucking gorgeous. The color matches your eyes. It’s my favorite shade of blue.” He blinks up at me with wide eyes and parted lips. “Can I tell you my secret of the day?”

“Now?” I prop my foot on his thigh and fight off a groan. I’m sure what he wants to say is sweet, but my patience is running thin. I’m worked up and need relief, my self-control hanging by a thread. “Okay.”

“I want to take your underwear off and keep this pair too. I want to use it when you’re not here and wrap it around my cock so I can get off to the thought of you. That’s what I did last night, and having something that smells like you—that tastes like you—makes it even more fun.” His ears are bright pink, his cheeks even redder. He snaps his mouth shut, gaze dropping to the floor. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Grant,” I whisper, and his gaze slowly lifts. “Do you want to hear my secret of the day?”

“Yeah.” The word is the husk of a whisper, a man possessed. “I do.”

“I like to be talked to in the bedroom. I like knowing what you want to do to me. It turns me on, and you can keep all my underwear if that’s what you like.” A quiet laugh slips out with lowered inhibitions. “Especially if you send me a video when you get yourself off with them.”