Again, I lay awake, unable to sleep. My mind is running wild with the reality that we both live here now and the feeling that something is missing. However, I don’t know what that missing thing is. Beside me is Grey, the actual love of my life. The only love of my life.
I turn on my side and begin to assess his striking features. Maybe doing this will settle the uneasiness in my chest and put me at ease. I glide a finger down his cheek and swirl and dip and curve over his cheekbones and scars and his defined cupid’s bow and his stubble. His eyelashes flutter. I stop before he can wake up. We got up pretty early; he must be exhausted since he isn’t used to waking up before eleven.
I leave him and take a shower. I stand under the warm water pounding against me for maybe half an hour before I get tired of standing. I get out, brush my teeth, and take my pills. The pit is still inside my chest. I thought it would go away with a long shower, but I guess not.
I wipe a circle into the foggy mirror and stare into it. Big, bright blue eyes bounce back at me, and my lips purse. I look so different, much more mature. Three months ago, I would have never thought for a second that I would be living with someone who wasn’t my assigned roommate. Especially someone like Grey. It’s insane how much my priorities have altered and how attached to this man I am. But it also makes more sense than what I was doing before. Loving him yanked a transparent curtain over my eyes and made everything beyond the plastic blurry and ugly. But behind it, I have him, and he is anything but ugly. He is charming and handsome and everything I could have asked for but didn’t know I needed or even wanted.
After getting dressed in his shirt, which I’m beginning to love doing, I decide to make breakfast. I prepare French toast, bacon, eggs, and much more. I know it’s a lot just for the two of us, but he has quite an appetite, so I don’t think he’ll mind. As I cook, I dance around a little to the music on my phone. It helps a little with the ache in my chest, but it doesn’t make it fade away completely. And no matter how much I cook and dance, however terrible it is, I can’t figure out the cause for it. I have a little idea, though…
I feel guilty.
It’s Christmas, the first one spent away from my family. I want nothing more than to go back home and watch my grandmother open her present of fuzzy socks she adores or watch my father quietly thank me for his golf clubs or even my mother giving me a strained smile over her umpteenth diamond necklace. I want to devour Louise’s handmade sugar cookies and visit the ice skating rink with her daughter, Charlotte. But I can’t. My mother hates me, and she would just turn me around and never let me into my home. And as much as it hurts, I expected it the moment I realized I cared for Grey. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.
“Morning.” Grey emerges from the hallway. His hair is messy, and he’s shirtless, showcasing his beautiful tattoos, while his boxers hang low on his right hip. He’s sexy even when he doesn’t try. It’s amazing and kind of terrifying, because he could use it against me. I could definitely see him taking off his shirt when we debate what to have for dinner. It’d be easier for me to win if he didn’t look like a freaking Abercrombie & Fitch model.
“Good morning.” I smile at him as he rounds the counter and comes up behind me. I am engulfed in warmth when he wraps his arms around my waist, nuzzling his face in my neck.
“What’s all this for?” He gestures to the counter full of food.
“This is breakfast.” I pivot on my feet. “Christmas edition.”
His eyes light up. He reaches behind me and pops bacon in his mouth. “I should have asked you to move in a loooong time ago.”
“Because I can cook?” I raise my eyebrows, and he hums, leaning back.
“Mmmm, yes?” He sounds apprehensive.
“That is so sexist,” I argue.
“But you are soooo sexy.” He spins me around and wiggles his eyebrows.
I laugh and push away from him. “Very smooth of you.”
“I try.” He shrugs.
I round the counter and hop onto a kitchen stool. As predicted, he shovels some eggs into his mouth and backs it up with some French toast. Well, he’s certainly a very big growing boy, isn’t he? I watch him pile food in his mouth, the pit growing more and more and more—until I have to say something.
“Grey?” I clear my throat when I realize how shaky I sound.
“Yeah?” He looks confused, then his eyes go wide. “Oh God, you are not…you know.” What’s he trying to say? His eyes go down to my stomach, and he shrugs. It hits me. I gasp and frantically shake my head.
“Oh, no…no! I am not—why would you think—no! I’m on the—” I sputter, sounding like an idiot.
“Because you were just so serious, and I thought—” he says.
“You thought I was just pregnant?” I say, incredulous.
He waves his hands and furiously scratches his neck. “I don’t—maybe, yeah—but you were so cryptic!”
“Okay, but that doesn’t mean I’m pregnant. Geesh.” I put my head in my hands, flushed. I am embarrassed beyond words. “I just—ugh.” I remove my hands and watch as his face tenses, as if preparing me to tell him that I expect our wedding in an hour. “I was just wondering if you really think us living together is the right thing.”
I sound horrible and doubtful of our relationship, but I don’t mean to. But this is serious, and it means that the next step will be ten times bigger. However, he’s already expressed to me that he doesn’t want to get married or have children. I’m not saying we should get hitched in Las Vegas or try for triplets; I just want the options to be there when we’re ready, if we’ll even be together then. But who am I kidding? He’s the only man I could possibly see myself with. And I know I don’t have any insight on the future, but something in me just knows he’s not going away anytime soon.
“Of course.” He laughs humorlessly and grips the counter. “Why are you questioning us right now? Do you not want to be with me?” He sounds genuinely hurt.
“Of course I want to be with you…it’s just…we—” I groan and rub my temples, frowning. “We haven’t known each other for that long and—and what if we don’t work out or—or—”
“Stop that,” he snaps. And then he takes a deep breath. “I love you, okay? I think more than I should, because even the thought of not having you by my side—the first thing I see when I wake up—drives me nuts. And I mean fucking mental.” He laughs again and swipes his tongue across his lips. “It’d kill me if you say so, but if you don’t think we should be together…in this way, then—um, then just—just—”
“No, no, no—I don’t want to not do this.” I reach over the counter and take his hands. It pains me to even hear him suggest us not being together in any way.
“Then why bring it up?”
“Because I think too much, and I’m afraid that this’ll be too much, and you’ll get tired of me—”
He laughs out loud, eyes shut, and I slump in the chair. He pops one eye open, looks me up and down, then sighs heavily as he comes around the counter. Standing in front of me, he cups my face and tilts my head back, cheeks squished, lips pursed. His eyes light, his dimples carved into his scruffy cheeks. “I could never get tired of you. Who else will nag me to clean? Or remind me not to be a douche to people? Or give me the best head?”
“You’re getting dirty,” I cut him off, and his brows shoot up.
“We get dirty all the time, babe,” he reminds me, and I avert my eyes. “But—” He forces me to look at him. “I wouldn’t want to do bad things to anyone other than you.” His voice is deep and sends a tingle up and down my spine. His eyes grow heavy and hooded as I gulp, suddenly very hot. And all he did was talk. I am going to lose a lot of battles with him…“Mm-mmm, I know that look—you’re getting a little hot down there, aren’t you? I’ve never had Christmas sex before.”
“You are so cocky,” I mutter, pushing him back.
“And you love it.” His lips press into a wide smile before he bends down, lips hovering less than an inch above mine.
“I don’t deserve you,” I croak, clutching his shirt.
“It’s the other way around, princess.” His words vibrate through my mouth and my body. The minute his lips touch mine, I feel myself burning inside and out and tears welling up in my eyes. I am just so emotional about us living together now, and—and it’s just consuming me. He either doesn’t feel it or is so wrapped up in our kiss, because his sweet, smooth lips move against mine in a slow, sensual pace, and my heart nearly implodes from the pressure.
“Can we watch Christmas movies now?” I pull away and quickly wipe my eyes and beam at him. “I’ll make cookies!”
He narrows his eyes and tilts my head back. “What’s wrong?”
“I just—I’m really excited we’re going to be living together,” I say.
He stares at me for one…two…three seconds, then nods, still unsure. “I don’t believe you…but if we’re going to be this serious as a couple, then I should learn to trust you.” My heart splits in two. He leans down and tenderly presses his lips to my forehead. “Now, what kind of cookies are we talking about?”
I stare at him for what feels like eternity before I shake my head. No, he deserves more. I am not what he deserves—hell, I don’t deserve him. But he shouldn’t just eat cookies while he has me…
“Stay here?” I quirk an eyebrow and take a step back.
“What have you got planned, princesa?” he questions, and I smile with a shrug.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” is all I tell him, and that smile—the very smile I fell in love with in the first place—appears on his face. I feel my heart skip a beat as I keep backing away until the hallway envelops me, and I can’t see him anymore.
He deserves so much more…Tearing my gaze from the ground, I turn around and take off his shirt. I enter his bedroom and take off my bra and underwear. I dig into the dresser that is supposed to be mine now and take out the red lacy lingerie set I bought when I was out shopping with Jaimie. My heart clenches, and I gulp down a lump in my throat as I stare at the thin lace in my hands. Only for you, Grey…
I get dressed in the skimpy outfit and feel my face heat when my eyes catch sight of my body in the mirror in the corner of the room. I look so…weird in lingerie. Like I’m much older than I am. As if I have experience, when really, I don’t. What I do have experience in is doing anything for the man I love. Even if it means wearing little things like this.
Snatching one of the remaining lengths of ribbon I used when wrapping gifts, I tie it around my abdomen. Taking a deep breath, I call out his name and fall back on the bed. I stare up at the ceiling and count as I wait for him to come in. I get up to ten before the door creaks open and I feel his heavy presence.
“The fuck…” he says.
I sit up and bite my lip as I bat my eyelashes, trying to appear sexy, when I probably look like I got something caught in my eye. He laughs, and I flush and sit up fully. I am such an idiot. I peel off the sheets and try to cover my body.
“I’m sorry, I just—thought you’d like it,” I begin but end up shaking my head and imagining I am somewhere far, far away from here.
“What are you doing?” He tugs at the sheets, but my grip is too tight. He sighs and gets on his knees in front of me and brushes my hair back and cups my cheeks. “Liv, I was just surprised. I know this isn’t your…thing.”
“You’re telling me,” I mutter, and he clicks his tongue.
“Don’t ever hide from me, okay?” he says, and I finally let my eyes meet his. A smile tugs at his lips as he leans forward. “I love your body, and you should too. Now, I believe you were giving me another present?”
I close my eyes and flush some more. “But I…”
“You are the sexiest, sweetest thing I have ever encountered in my twenty-one years of living.” He finishes my sentence with a smirk that warms me up inside—I think my skin is on fire. He pushes me back and rips the sheets away from me. I giggle as he tickles me from my ankles up to my thighs. That’s when I start to moan. “Don’t you ever forget that,” he says as he kisses my inner thigh.
“Oh, geez,” I moan and close my eyes.
I feel him smile on my skin.
His tongue peeks out and presses into the lingerie. I moan his name and arch my back. “Fucking Christ, you could kill me, you know,” he groans, licking me through the lace. I moan and writhe my hips back and forth. He has to stop teasing me, or I’ll go insane. Finally, he hooks his fingers in the lace and tugs it down so hard, I’m afraid he ripped them. He flings them somewhere and finally, finally presses his tongue against my clit. “So fucking wet. And all because of me,” he drawls in a deep, sensual voice.
“Oh, Grey—that feels so…so…” I am unable to finish my sentence as he licks and swirls and plays with my sex. My skin tightens and my breath hitches as I try to keep my cool and breathe. But it becomes increasingly hard when he’s…tasting me like this.
“Hmmm,” he hums and smiles against me, sucking harder. I see bits of the space above us. “You can’t even finish your sentence. Do you like it when I taste you like this? Hmm? When I do this?” He pushes two, maybe even three, fingers in me. It fills me and stretches me, probably to prepare for him soon enough.
“Oh my God, Grey,” I whine and shift, trying to take in all of his fingers. Tears prick my eyes, and he whispers sweet nothings into my warmth.
“Does this feel okay, baby?” he asks, genuinely concerned.
I take a moment until my insides feel plush and a smile washes over my face. “Yes, it feels amazing. But—but I want you,” I whisper, and he nods but continues to swipe and drive his tongue across my clit. I grip the sheets and let out breathless moans, arching my back into the soft sheets. My stomach shrivels up with a familiar pinch, and I feel my chest darken with pleasure and my lips part with his name.
“Hold on, bebé. I want you to come for me like this,” he says and then growls when I link my fingers through his hair and tug lightly. “You look so fucking sexy like that. Wearing that bra, I can see your tits. Oh fuck, do you look heavenly, princesa. So fucking ready for me. You want me in you?” I nod feverishly, and he laughs. “Then come for me, baby. Come for me.”
His naughty words pull me over the edge, and I scream his name as I reach my high. He continues to slash his tongue across my clit and pump his fingers in and out of me, no doubt readying me for his huge length. I can just feel him in me right now.
I tug at his hair, and laughing like the ass he is, I pull him up and claw at his bare shoulders. He gets the gist and reaches down to pull off his boxers. I hold his intense gaze as he kicks them off. Smirking, he lines his member to my sex and then, without warning, he plunges into me.
I scream out and wrap my arms around his neck. “Mmmm, Grey,” I moan and grip his hair. “You feel soooo good.” I grip tighter and smirk as he cries out my name. I watch as his eyes shut closed as he thrusts in and out of me, whispering my name over and over. I love to hear him like this, so primal and caught up in the moment. I reach behind me and undo my bra, throwing it away. The minute I am bare and open to him, he loses it.
He leans down and takes my right breast in his mouth. I pinch my eyes closed in pleasure and lick my lips. I cup my hand around his neck and hold him there as he kneads my breasts with his full lips and caresses my nipple with his skillful tongue. I tug his hair and play with it as he does so, moaning as he plays with my other one, all the while pounding into me until I can’t think of anything but how perfectly he fits in me and how wonderful this feels. I can feel my body warming up, my heart exploding in my chest, and his soul touching mine with every thrust.
He comes up, eyes more alive than ever, and he smashes his lips down onto mine. I kiss him with everything and more that I have in me, making small whimpers and vibrating as he groans and pumps deeper into me. I gasp in surprise with each thrust, each harder than the last. I trace random patterns on his toned back as his large muscles constrict and contract each time he moves.
I adore the way he moves and the way I take him in, moving my hips with him too—it’s like we were made just to do this. He knows my body; he knows how deep to go. He knows to play with my breasts. He knows how to nibble on my ear and how to suck on my neck, forever marking me with his touch. He just knows me, and he knows how to make me feel like the most loved girl in the world.
“Grey, it—oh my—keep doing that.” I connect my hips with his, and he grips my waist and kisses me, hard. The kiss is deep, passionate, all consuming. It steals my breath away. My face heats as he cups my face and kisses me so hard, I taste blood. Whether it is his or mine, I have no idea. But the strong taste of metal and his bittersweet tongue is too much to bear.
“You feel so—so fucking good,” he stammers deeply and grunts as he rocks his length in me, swirling his hips before plunging back into me.
Tears prick my eyes because of how euphoric this feels, and my mind fills with so much emotion, too much emotion. Thoughts run wild, and guilt runs deep within me. He is too good for me, way too good. I arch my back and moan his name as he places warm, wet kisses up the length of my neck.
“Grey, I—I…” I stutter.
“I love you too, baby,” he whispers, and I can feel him smile happily against my skin.
“But I—” I whisper.
“Shhh,” he whispers and picks my legs up, hitting that certain spot all too well. All too perfectly. I choke on my words and instead moan his name and nod frantically. I pull on his hair, and he leans back and collides his sweet, soft lips onto mine.
Again, I feel my stomach prick with built-up pleasure. I breathe heavily and out of short intakes; he groans and swallows my moans with his lips. I grind my hips into his, and he slaps my thigh and picks me up and slams into me over and over and over again—it is too much. I feel myself explode as I feel him do the same. I open my mouth to breathe, to fill my chest with air, but I can’t. I let out a strangled scream of his name and dig my finger deep into his skin. So deep, I feel his blood crease into my fingernails.
This is the best I have ever felt, so blissful and in the clouds. I’m not in my body anymore. I watch myself smile as he peppers my marked skin with his kisses. I am sucked back to reality when he pulls out of me and falls beside me. Our attempts to catch our breath fill the air, and I smile contentedly as he plays with my curly hair. I lift my leg and lay it against his waist; he pulls me closer.
I listen to his heartbeat thrum beneath his skin and gently dance my fingers up and down his chest. Silence twinkles in the air, but I can clearly hear his smile.
“What were you going to say?” he breathes after a long while of silence.
“Hmmm?” I draw my fingertips across one of his tattoos and hum a random song.
I swear I hear him breathe, almost like purr, in bliss. “Earlier. You were saying something?”
“Oh…” I frown and look up at him. I stare into his pure, black eyes and shrug, letting a smile slip across my lips. “Just that I love you.”
He looks at me for three beats and then grins and curls his finger in a “come here” motion. I scramble up and lean my chin on my elbow that rests on his chest. He tips my head back and pulls my face a mere hair between us. I hold my breath, feeling my heart drum rapidly inside my chest. “There are no words to describe how much I love you,” he whispers. I smile against his lips before letting my mouth open and whispering back—
“And there isn’t enough time in the world to express how much I love you.”