Greyson
I had Alexis on the brain. I was hooked, fucking addicted. I was leaving at the end of the school year. My agent had the next few years all planned out. Getting involved with her when I knew I was leaving was stupid, but I couldn’t stay away. I’d never been so drawn to someone, wanted someone as badly as I wanted her and I hardly knew her.
I then made matters worse by kissing her. Holy shit, that kiss. I found myself daydreaming about it and I didn’t daydream. It wasn’t just because it was the best fucking kiss, it was the familiarity that hooked into me and refused to let go. I knew her and yet we’d never met before this. I was going mad, but there was comfort knowing Alexis was right there with me.
Arriving at school, I headed to Alexis’ locker. She was already there, unloading her bag. I swear she looked to be talking to herself. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were. She had her hair up, her neck exposed and I wanted to kiss her right where her neck met her shoulder. So I did. She knew I was there, her body tensed before I reached her. She moaned and my balls tightened.
“Is that you, Greyson?” she teased.
I bit her.
“Ouch.”
Taking her backpack, I dropped my arm around her shoulders and pressed my lips to her ear. “Maybe the eraser room is empty.”
By the way her body responded, she liked that idea.
I was so fucking hard, but I couldn’t taste her enough. I wanted to consume her, wanted to pull her into me and keep her there.
“I never understood the eraser room,” she said between kisses. “I so love the eraser room.”
I chuckled, but I never stopped kissing her. In the very back of my mind a warning sounded. I needed to stop this, needed to put on the brakes, because Alexis wasn’t just any girl. If anyone had the power to change my plans, it was her. I ignored the warning, but I did pull from her because another minute and I wouldn’t have control.
“Are you okay?”
“I will be.”
I couldn’t see her face, but I knew she blushed. “Sorry.”
“I’m not.”
I needed distance to get my cock to calm down, but I couldn’t help touching her face, running my finger along her jaw. It wasn’t just lust I felt, it was the stronger emotion that caused concern. I was leaving, but I was beginning to understand I wouldn’t be doing so whole. This girl had claimed a piece of me.
“My grandfather’s birthday is this weekend. I’m cooking him dinner. Come.” What the hell was I doing? We should be slowing things down, not integrating her more into my life. Clearly, when it came to the idea of stepping away from her I lacked conviction.
“You can cook?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“Not surprised just…okay I’m surprised. You’re only eighteen. That’s cool. I can’t even boil water.”
“Have you tried to cook?”
“No.”
“So how do you know you can’t?”
“Because if I say I can’t then I don’t have guilt mooching a meal from the Cantenellis as often as I do.”
“What’s up with that? You guys act more like brothers and sister than friends.”
“They live across the street from me. Their family took me in when I was young, became a sort of surrogate family. I do think of those knuckleheads as brothers.”
I suspected that, but I did like hearing it confirmed. “Will you come? It’s Saturday.”
“I’d love too; I’ll make the cake.”
“I thought you couldn’t cook.”
“I haven’t tried to cook, but I think I can manage a cake.”
“Maybe I should get a back up cake, just in case.”
“Fiend.”
“We should probably get to class.”
“I guess, but I want it noted that I don’t want to go to class.”
“Noted.”
I checked if the coast was clear, but the eraser room had been chosen well, located in a section of the school that saw very little foot traffic. We headed for her homeroom; passing her locker I remembered the scene with that bitch Debbie, which had me asking, “What’s up with Debbie? Why is she such a bitch to you?”
“I don’t really know. I met her through the twins and for several years we were close, but in middle school she started to mature, boys noticed. By the eighth grade she had morphed into the Debbie you see now. She stopped hanging out with us and started going out of her way to be a bitch.”
I had no doubt Debbie was jealous. She didn’t compare to Alexis and never would. She grinned then added, “It’s possible she’s pissed that you are spending time with me not her.”
I couldn’t help the shudder, but what a thought. My balls shriveled up.
Alexis stopped walking; I glanced back at her. “You don’t find her attractive? I mean, sure she’s a bitch, but look at her.”
“She looks like a plastic surgeon got carried away.”
Her jaw actually dropped. She was fucking adorable. “But she’s got those…” She gestured with her hands.
“They’re ridiculous.”
Disbelief swept her expression. “Are you serious? I thought for guys the bigger the better.”
“Maybe some guys, but me, I prefer long and lean.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re kidding.”
I moved right into her, lowered my head and whispered, “I like long legs that end in the gentle swell of hips, the curve of a woman’s back…” I ran my hand over the small of her back. “Drives me nuts. As far as…” Our eyes meet and held. “Bigger is not better. Enough to fill my palm, pale pink, tight…”
She slammed her hand over my mouth. “Please stop or I’m not responsible for what happens.”
Her cheeks were flush with arousal. She wasn’t the only one. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her down the hall before we backtracked to the eraser room. Feeling smug, I said, “Glad we cleared that up.”
Alexis
“It’s crooked.” It was more than crooked. It was an abomination and I had such high hopes. I picked up a few magazines at the market when I bought the ingredients. I had thought to create a tiered wonder. How hard could it be? Famous last words. Instead of a white-tiered confection, it looked more like what became of a cake at a one-year-old’s birthday party. We were in Greyson’s granddad’s car.
“Tastes good though.”
“I can’t understand how you could have seen this and thought oh, I wonder what that tastes like? Some things are best staying a mystery.”
He glanced over at me. “But you’re bringing it.”
“I know. I couldn’t leave it at home. It’s not the cake’s fault that I’m Dr. Frankenstein. The poor unsuspecting flour and sugar, those eggs and butter, they deserved a better fate than this, but I want your granddad to know I tried, even if my attempt looks like roadkill with icing.”
He laughed, a raucous laugh, but his eyes warmed when he looked over again. “It’s the thought that counts.”
I pointed at him. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m trying to say in the most round about way.”
He pulled up a long drive. “So this is where you live. I almost hunted you down after the first time you drove me home.” Why did I tell him that?
He parked and shut off the engine. “Why didn’t you?”
The cat was out of the bag now about my latent stalker tendencies. “It felt stalkerish.”
He had a reaction to that, but I couldn’t for the life of me read him. “What?”
“I wouldn’t have thought you were being stalkerish.”
“We’ll get back to that. What was that look for? Did someone hunt you down?”
“Stephanie. She brought me brownies.”
I almost dropped the cake, which might have improved its appearance. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, she’s been here at least one other time but didn’t knock. Granddad saw her.”
“Was she in a tree across the street with binoculars?”
He grinned. “I hope not.”
“I get it. I mean had things gone differently with us, I might have driven by your house a few times hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”
He shifted so he was facing me. “Really?”
“You have to know you’re ridiculously handsome, that face and hair, your eyes and body.” Shut up, Alexis.
Now he was grinning and why not? I had verbal diarrhea. “You don’t say.”
I couldn’t believe I was being so bold, but my mouth opened and more came out. “What Stephanie doesn’t know is there is more to you than pretty packaging.”
“Are you purposely trying to drive me crazy?” he asked.
“Yes, payback for sneaking a taste of the cake.”
He muttered before he climbed from the car, “If that’s payback, I’m going to eat the whole fucking thing.”
He took the cake, and even humming with sexual tension, my attention was on his house. It was a beautiful Victorian, painted in a dove gray with lots of creamy white gingerbread trim and palladium windows. The back of the house overlooked the Pacific Ocean.
“What a wonderful place.”
“Yeah, I love that view. It’s forever changing.”
The artist in him would see that.
“I would love a house like this,” I confessed.
“I thought you wanted the hustle and bustle of the city.”
“Yeah, but when I settle down with a family I’d love a place just like this one.”
He seemed to have a thought on that, but offered nothing. He walked me to the door that opened to an incredible smell. His grandfather was behind the island chopping vegetables, and damn but talk about family resemblance. He was older, obviously, but he had the same bone structure, same eyes, same build. I was looking at Greyson in forty years. He’d still be hot.
“Alexis, this is my grandfather, Callum.”
He walked around the kitchen island and took my hand. I blurted out, “I can’t believe how much Greyson looks like you.”
He smiled and brought my hand to his lips, just like his grandson had done to Tara and Mandy. “It’s very nice to meet you.” He glanced over at the cake. “Is that for me?”
“It doesn’t look great, but Greyson assures me it tastes good.”
“A homemade cake. I haven’t had one of those in far too long. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“Greyson made shepherd’s pie. I hope that’s okay.”
“Smells amazing.”
“I’ll finish the salad. Why don’t you two go wash up.”
Greyson grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall. We didn’t go to the bathroom; he pulled me into his bedroom. My back hit the door as soon as he closed it. He kissed my neck. I tilted my head to give him better access. “You taste so good.” His tongue moved down my neck and along my shoulder.
My blood ignited. “Kiss me, Greyson.”
He did, his lips brushing back and forth before his tongue pushed into my mouth, tasting me with a thoroughness that left me weak. I wanted him. I wanted him to be my first. I wanted that so badly. I didn’t understand all the emotions he pulled from me, how hot he made me, how my body ached in so many ways, but I knew I wanted him to be my first.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he said as he dragged his lips to my ear, tracing it with his tongue before taking a little bite.
I fisted his shirt and drew him closer.
He pulled his hand through my hair. “I want you, Alexis.”
My eyes went wide. “Not now.”
He didn’t react at first and then he laughed out loud. “No, not now.”
“Because I could be tempted.”
His smile died as the sexiest look swept his face. “Don’t say that or I’m locking this door.”
“Your granddad?”
“Will be celebrating his birthday alone.”
At least he’d have cake.
He kissed me hard on the mouth. “You go first. I need to…”
My gaze drifted down to his hard-on and I felt powerful being able to bring this boy to that. “Sorry.”
“I’m not.”
“I’ll see you out there.”
“A little less of me, aye.” He sounded adorably disgruntled.
I giggled then slipped out of his room.
Dinner had been delicious. Greyson wasn’t kidding when he said he knew how to cook. Throughout dinner, I marveled at how much alike Greyson and his grandfather were and not just their physical appearance, but their personalities, humor and mannerisms. And their accents, that beautiful lilt had images of Ireland rolling through my mind, at least the Ireland I knew from pictures. I understood Greyson’s passion that brought him to the States, the loss of his parents, and still I couldn’t imagine staying away from what I saw as paradise.
“Greyson mentioned you live in a castle.”
Callum leaned back in his chair, his expression turning a bit faraway. “Taisce Manor.” He looked nostalgic before he added, “It’s one of the oldest castles in Ireland.”
I loved hearing the pride they had in their home, was a little envious too. “Greyson mentioned that. It sounds wonderful.”
“One day you’ll have to come for a visit. The landscape is like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
An ache formed. The invitation was sincere, but it was also a fairy tale.
“Greyson tells me you are a writer. Is that what you hope to do, write professionally?”
“First step is to study creative writing at NYU and then yes, I’d love to write for a living, novels, plays, and screenplays. I’d like to try my hand at all of them.”
“Ireland is a land filled with stories just waiting to be written. In fact, our family has its own legend.”
My elbows dropped on the table. Bad manners, but how fascinating. “Really?”
“Aye. ’Tis believed that a goddess disguised as a mortal woman visited the very first Ratcliffe, Aenfinn himself. They loved as man and woman but she was not of his world and was forced to return to her own. She couldn’t leave without giving him something to remember her by and so it is told that she conjured a diamond through magic, binding it with love. The stone is called Mo Chuisle, My Pulse. Years later, Aenfinn eventually married to continue his bloodline, but he never parted with the stone. He had it embedded into his great sword, a sword he was never without.”
What a beautiful and sad story. “Do you believe the legend?”
Callum didn’t hesitate to answer. “His goddess’ sacred place is believed to be in our backyard. In the portrait gallery, Aenfinn’s portrait depicts the stone in his sword. It appears later in a broach worn by a couple of Ratcliffe women.”
It was a fascinating story, more so because Callum believed it. A reasonable and educated man believed it. I did too. “Where’s the stone now?”
“It was lost several generations back, after a fire. Some of the household books were lost too, so trying to piece together what became of it has been very difficult. I’ve often thought I’d like to write it down, but I don’t have skill to do the story justice.” His eyes met mine before he offered, “Would you be interested in writing the story? Documenting it for future generations so the story isn’t lost. ”
I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly, offering something so significant to me. He hardly knew me. And yet I wanted to write the story because it would be a link to Greyson, to his family, his heritage. When he left, I’d still have a part of him.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather an established writer doing it?”
Callum’s focus shifted to Greyson, I followed his gaze. Tenderness looked back at me.
“I think you’re the right person for the job. Don’t you, Greyson?”
“Absolutely.”
“I can have copies of what records remain shipped here.”
“Thank you. I would love to, but seriously are you sure you wouldn’t rather someone with more experience?”
“Why don’t you review the files and you tell me if you’d be interested?” Callum suggested.
“I’d like that.”
Greyson brought me home. We stood at my front door, unwilling to say good night. He tasted so good, my fingers tangling into his hair to pull him closer. “I had a really good time tonight,” I said in between kisses.
“I’m glad you came. Grandfather likes you.”
“Yeah?”
He nipped on my bottom lip. “Definitely.”
“I am very flattered with Callum’s offer to write the book for your family, but I’ll understand totally if you get someone else to do it. That’s a big deal and it should be done right.”
“You don’t think you could write the story?”
“I do, but…”
“You know us. Anyone we hired wouldn’t. Besides, the story is for the family. We’re not looking to make a coffee table book, we just don’t want the story to be lost.” He pulled me closer. “One day you’ll have works in the Library of Congress, but you’ll also have a work handed down to future Ratcliffes. Some child in 2800 will read your words.”
It was a humbling thought. “It’ll take a while. Years if not longer with school and college.”
“It’s waited almost seven hundred years, it can wait a few more.
“That was incredible. Thank you.” It was Friday night dinner at the Atzers. I liked seeing Greyson at Paige’s table, liked that he was part of us now.
“We’re glad you could join us, Greyson,” Paige said.
Tara and Mandy had been itchy all through dinner. The expression ants in your pants fit them perfectly. As soon as Grant started clearing the table, Tara jumped up from her chair.
“I have to show you my room.” Tara didn’t wait for a reply, grabbing Greyson’s hand and dragging him down the hall.
“My room next,” Mandy called and ran after them.
“You cooked. I’ll clean,” Grant offered.
“You don’t have to twist my arm,” Paige teased. Grant kissed her temple. “You two go relax outside. I’ll be out in a minute.”
We settled on the deck. It was cooler; maybe Grant would light the fire pit.
“I like Greyson,” Paige said.
“Me too.”
“I see the way you look at each other. It reminds me of Grant and me.”
“I really like him, Paige. A part of me worries about how much I like him. He is leaving at the end of the school year and he won’t be staying any place long enough to settle.”
“June is quite a while away, but I understand. If you feel how you do now, what happens then?”
“Exactly.”
“From what I’ve seen, I think it will be worth the heartache later.”
Our eyes met. “Me too.” I dropped my voice. “I want to have sex with him.”
“I wondered. Do we need to have the talk?”
She was being serious. I loved that she cared. “No.”
“I have condoms. Take some before you leave.”
“I don’t feel uncomfortable having this conversation. I thought I would.”
“It means you’re ready. It may not be the moment you’re expecting the first time, but believe me it does get better.”
“Just being with him will make it the moment I’m expecting.”
Paige smiled. “I felt that way too.”
Greyson brought me home. Having said out loud what I’d been thinking, and with the weight of the condoms in my pocket, the words just tumbled from my mouth. “Come to my house on Sunday. The foster monsters won’t be home.”
I felt his muscles tense. His head dipped so we were almost eye-to-eye. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
My gaze dropped as some of my bravado fled. I was talking about having sex with Greyson, to Greyson.
He touched my chin. “Alexis.”
“Paige gave me condoms.”
“So that’s what you two were talking about.” He trailed his finger along my jaw. “Are you a virgin?”
“Yes. Are you?”
I saw it in his eyes. He wasn’t. “No, but I wish I were for you.”
I didn’t know her, didn’t know him when he’d had sex with her and still I hated whoever came before me. I didn’t realize I said that out loud until he said, “I was sixteen. She was willing. If I knew I’d meet you, I would have waited.” He studied me a minute before he added, “We don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
His voice got all gravelly. “So do I.” I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he laced his fingers through my hair and just stared, studying me like he had a tendency of doing. “Sunday.”
I waited to hear his bike drive off, and still I didn’t move. The foster monsters were in bed; I heard the television. I leaned back against the door and dreamily thought about sex with Greyson. My back went rod straight. I was having sex with Greyson on Sunday. I had to shower and shave and lotion. I ran upstairs and stripped, but I didn’t head to the shower. I stood in front of the full-length mirror. My breasts were very small, but my stomach was flat and my legs were long. Remembering that day at school and his seductively spoken words had goosebumps breaking out over my body. He was going to see me, all of me. I felt a bit nervous about that, despite his declarations, but I was going to see all of him too. I’d imagined his body countless times, but I’d be touching and tasting him. I knew the mechanics of sex, but actually doing it…maybe I should have talked to Paige.
I reached for my robe to cover myself. My thoughts shifted. This was a conversation I would have had with my mom. Sitting in my room, heads together as she gave me the talk. She’d be reluctant, her baby girl wasn’t a baby anymore, but it was a right of passage when a girl became a woman. Dad would greet Greyson at the door, looking stern. He wouldn’t know, but he’d suspect. He’d make small talk then warn Greyson if he broke my heart he’d kill him. And if I did have my heart broken, they’d be there to hold me…to heal me. The tears fell as yet another milestone came and went. They’d missed so much of my life, but I didn’t care where they were or why they left me. If they showed up on my doorstep tomorrow, I would welcome them with open arms.
“I love you, wherever you are.”
Collecting my toiletries, I headed to the shower.
I was going to throw up. I’d been up for hours. The foster monsters left, the house was empty, Greyson was due any minute. I wanted to have sex, wanted it to be with Greyson, but now that we were here I wasn’t sure I knew what to do. I wasn’t sure if I was pretty enough, sexy enough.
A knock at the door had my stomach dropping. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this. Pulling it open, I was surprised to see he looked how I felt. His eyes moved over my face then he smiled. “You’ve been up for hours too.”
Relieved that I wasn’t the only one, my shoulders unknotted. “Yeah.” Glancing behind him, I didn’t see his bike. “Where’s your bike?”
Sheepishly he confessed, “I parked on another street.”
It took a second, but if the twins saw it, they’d be over. That would be awkward.
He stepped inside; I locked the door. We didn’t move from the foyer. Grasping at anything to buy me a bit more time I blurted out, “Would you like something to drink?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Water would be good.”
My stomach was jumping around; those butterflies were freaking out. My hands shook as I reached for a glass and filled it with water. I hadn’t heard Greyson follow me, so I almost dropped the glass when I turned to find him leaning against the doorjamb.
“We don’t have to do this, Alexis. We could go to the beach or take a ride.”
“I want to, I’m just afraid you’ll be disappointed.”
His expression turned fierce. “Disappointed? How the hell could I be disappointed?”
“I’m not curvy.”
Silenced followed and I grew more insecure.
“There’s a little beauty mark where your neck meets your shoulder. Do you know how often I find myself wanting to lick that spot?”
I might have been looking at him in wonder, but what a thing to say.
“Your hair is a palette of colors, chocolate to blonde and every color in between. It feels like silk. I love burying my hands in it, love it even more when I’m pulling you to me to kiss that mouth. Those lips, your taste. I’m fucking addicted to them.”
Now I was growing hot. I drank his water, the whole glass, to ease the burning.
“And your eyes.” He stepped closer, took the glass from me and put it on the counter. He didn’t touch me, but he moved so close that I could feel the heat from his body. “There’s sadness buried in them. It’s not as pronounced at times, but it’s always there. And still you find it in you to make up stories about a fetal pig, to dance during sixth period, to act the part of a drowning victim, to bake my grandfather a birthday cake.” His gaze moved over my face. “You could never disappoint me.”
The feeling the first day, the one that nearly knocked me over, I knew now what it was. Love. I never believed in love at first sight, but I was willing to admit when I was wrong. I got up on my tiptoes and touched my lips to his, the lightest of kisses. We weren’t touching, only our mouths, and it was so damn sweet.
I kissed him again, but this time I traced his lips with my tongue. His arms moved around me and pulled me tight against his body, one hand moved up my back to get lost in my hair; he tilted my head and kissed me deeper. The nerves fled, my tongue warring with his, eager for his taste, as addicted to him as he was to me. Edgy and needy I broke the kiss, reached for his hand and started for the stairs.
“Are you sure?”
That he even asked. “Yes.”
In my room, Greyson looked around at the books and journals; I had a lot. His focus lingered on the picture of Alice in Wonderland. I agreed with the Cat, we were all mad here.
“It suits you.”
My gaze drifted around my room. I never really thought about it, but it did. He closed the distance and wrapped my face in his hands. This time, he traced my lips. My mouth opened for his tongue. Goosebumps rose even as little fires sizzled under my skin. His palm closed over my breast, but I didn’t feel inadequate, I felt desired. He brushed his thumb over my nipple and my clit pulsed. Feeling bold, I fisted his shirt, yanked my mouth from his, and pulled it over his head. He was exquisite. Flattening my palms on his chest, I ran them down his body to his six-pack. His sharp inhale turned the pulsing between my legs into an ache.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered.
“My turn.” My shirt followed his. He palmed my breasts and even with the cotton between us, that ache between my legs turned to a throbbing. He ran his tongue along my collarbone, kissed the swells of my breasts. With a twist of his fingers, my breasts spilled free. Nervousness pushed at the pleasure until his mouth replaced his hand, pulling my nipple between his teeth, touching the tip with his tongue. I had never felt anything so incredible until he sucked me into his mouth.
“Please don’t stop.”
He squeezed my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers while he sucked on the other. The throbbing became painful. His hand drifted down my stomach before finding the part of me aching for him. He touched my clit and pleasure shot down my spine. One finger slipped into me, pulling a moan.
He withdrew his finger, his eyes worried. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” I covered his hand with my own and guided him back. “Please.”
He played with my clit, my hips responding to his touch. He slid one finger in, circling me on the inside. I bit my lip at the sensation that was like nothing I’d ever felt. He watched me; seeming to enjoy the pleasure he was giving. Another finger joined the first, curling inside me. My head dropped as the knot in my gut loosened; climbing to a climax I wanted so badly to reach. He pressed his thumb to my clit and I came apart. Chills raced down my arms and light exploded behind my closed lids. Greyson wrapped his arm around my waist, holding me up, as he drew out the pleasure.
“That was fucking hot,” he whispered in my ear.
He brought the fingers that had been inside me to his mouth and licked my taste off.
That was fucking hot.
He dropped to his knees and pulled my sweats and panties off. Pressing a kiss between my legs, his tongue running through my folds. My fingers dug into his shoulders because holy shit that felt good.
“Maybe you should get on the bed for this part.” He looked up at me with the hottest eyes. He walked me backwards until the bed hit my legs. I sat. He curled his hand around my nape and he kissed me as he lowered me onto the bed. Kissing down my body, spending some time on my breasts, he spread my legs wider, got on his knees and buried his face between them.
I practically came off the mattress. He tongued my clit, sucked on it, moved his head from side to side before thrusting his tongue inside me. I fisted the sheets as my hips jerked into his mouth, moving with him. He sucked on my clit and pushed two fingers into me and I was a goner. Every part of me felt that orgasm. I was exhausted when it finally subsided, but he was just getting started. Greyson dropped his jeans and briefs and that ache was back. I’d never seen a cock in real life, never thought they were particularly attractive, but I was wrong. His was long, thick and bent slight at the top. I wanted to touch it, taste it. I wasn’t sure why I was so bold, but after what he’d just done to me, I wanted to give a little of that back. I sat up, ran a finger along the vein that was popping up. My eyes lifted to his, but they were closed. I closed my hand around the base and he moaned. It was silky smooth and hard as a rock. I traced the veins with my finger again then I did it with my tongue.
“I’ll come if you do that.”
I wanted to taste him like he had me. I wanted to pull him into my mouth and make him lose control.
He read my mind when he said, “First time I come, I want to be inside you.”
Inside me. Yes, I liked this idea.
He rolled on a condom then settled between my legs. “It’s going to hurt.”
I pulled his mouth to mine. Kissing him was like a drug. Every part of my body went loose. He rubbed himself over me, lifted my hips and surged forward filling me in one long stroke. Holy shit it hurt. My body tensed. He froze.
“I’m sorry.”
I reached for him, though I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pull him close or push him away. He sucked on my lower lip. That felt nice. His mouth settled over mine for a kiss that slowly turned the pain into pleasure. I raised my hips and he sank deeper; we both moaned. Deliberately he created the friction that had lust curling in my gut. I ran my hands down his body to his ass, drawing him closer as I sought more of him. The pleasure built, my body tingled and my breath stilled right before the most incredible sensation exploded inside me, like I was floating and shattering apart all at once. His muscles went taut right before he drove in deep and closed his eyes. My name rolled off his tongue in a sexy whisper.
He dropped his head on my shoulder. We were both breathing heavy. “Is it always like that?”
He brushed his thumb across my cheek. “No.”
I wanted to protest when he pulled out; I missed the connection to him. I assumed he went to clean up, disappearing into the bathroom. I loved having a naked Greyson walking around my room. He was beautiful. I stared my fill when he returned.
“Like what you see?”
“Very much.”
Remembering his mouth on me, I wanted to taste him.
“You don’t have to ask.”
My eyes jerked to his face. He was smiling.
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“You’re looking at my cock like a lollipop.”
I shifted to my knees. “I’ve never…”
“Feel free to practice on me.”
I didn’t chuckle at his comment because I was distracted. I touched his stomach, running my fingers down his abs. His muscles moved under my touch. I traced the tip of his cock with my finger. He moaned. I traced it again with my tongue.
“Fuck, Alexis.”
I closed my mouth around him. His body tensed, his fingers twisted into my hair, like he was holding himself up. I ran my tongue along the length of him, sucked, swirled it over the tip. His thigh muscles were like granite, as he held himself still while I explored him. The throbbing between my legs made me even bolder. I tongued the tip, fisted the base and stroked him up and down his shaft. He grew hard, his hips started to move. I felt him lose control before he thrust into my mouth. My eyes watered as he pushed into the back of my throat, but I held on because feeling this boy lose control was incredible.
“I’m going to come. If you don’t—”
I sucked harder. His salty taste filled my mouth, a strange sensation, but I’d brought him to that. I’d made him lose control. I swallowed.
He yanked me up his body, his eyes on fire, before he kissed me.
Greyson
Alexis moved around the kitchen in pajamas that had ice cream cones all over them. They were almost as ugly as her bike, so why was I having a problem keeping from getting hard. She’d pulled her hair up into a knot, exposing that beauty mark that drove me nuts. I’d just spent the last two hours worshipping her body and I wanted more.
She was making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. We’d worked up an appetite.
“Can you get the plates? They’re in the cabinet over the dishwasher.”
I padded across the linoleum floor. I tried not to think about her home because it pissed me off. There was nothing warm about it because there was nothing of her in it. Her asshole foster parents didn’t even have her picture on the wall.
I turned to find her watching me, her focus on my chest. I’d only tugged on my jeans. She was so easy to read and since I was feeling the same, I moved into her and caught her bottom lip between my teeth, sinking in enough to make it hurt. Her eyes glazed over and it was tempting to pull her onto the kitchen table. I controlled that.
I took the sandwiches, she got us water, and we went back to the only room in the house I liked. Alexis was stamped all over it, from the books piled in the corners, the posters of The Cure, Alice in Wonderland and the cat in a precarious position that stated Hang in There, to her bookcase stuffed with journals that I knew were filled with her stories. She was in every inch of this room. I fucking loved this room.
We settled on the bed across from each other sitting cross-legged. She took a bite from her sandwich, but her focus was still on my chest. “Do you work out?” Her expressive face changed realizing she’d asked that out loud. She then shrugged and added, “You have a six pack. How did you get that?”
She was making me hard with nothing more than a look, but what a fucking look. “I’m ready to go again whenever you are.”
Her eyes flew to my face then she smiled. I’d lost interest in my sandwich. There was something so much sweeter within reach. I put my plate on the table then moved toward her. Her eyes went wide, then heated.
“I swim.”
She was thinking about what was coming, so she didn’t acknowledge me. She put her plate on her bedside table then settled back on her bed. I crawled over her, covering her body with my own. She was beautiful, so fucking beautiful, but those sad eyes tore at my heart.
“Why the sadness behind your eyes?”
Surprise shifted to pain when her eyes brightened. I felt like a dick. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I wasn’t expecting the conversation to go there.” She reached into her nightstand and pulled out a picture. I settled next to her, taking it when she offered it. Her parents, she looked just like her mom. Alexis was only a toddler, adorable, happy, no sadness in her eyes. There was a hard edge to her dad, the man had seen and done things, but there was no denying the love for his girls. I’d had countless pictures like this with my parents; even losing them, I had albums of memories. This was Alexis’ only memory.
Her voice was distant, like she was lost in that memory. “I don’t know what happened to them. I don’t know why they gave me up. There’s love in that picture. They loved me, but they didn’t keep me. I don’t understand that. And even being angry and hurt, I miss them and I don’t even remember them.”
I wiped away her tears. She took the picture and put it back in the drawer. It broke my heart that she kept it close and for how worn it was, she looked at it often.
“Are you going to look for them?”
“Yes.”
“You look just like your mom.”
Her smile was shaky. I moved over her again, closed the distance and kissed her. For the next few hours I tried really hard to take that sadness from her gaze.
Alexis was working until closing; Paige was driving her home. I had the whole night, so I pulled out the canvas I’d been working on and my paints. That first day when I felt her on the beach, I knew she was special but I hadn’t appreciated how special. These last few months getting to know her, I wasn’t ready to let her go. We rang in the New Year. Our time was coming to an end. I was leaving, there was no changing that, and she wanted NYU. We had plans that didn’t include the other and yet for the first time in my life I wanted something more than I wanted my art. I owed it to my grandfather, to my parents, to myself to pursue my dream, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to miss her like hell.
Nigel surprised us with a visit; it was where Grandfather was now, the two of them were hitting the town. He brought with him the files for Alexis. I loved that she wanted to look into our family. It was a link we’d always have, whatever happened between us.
I wondered about her parents. She was right. There was love in the picture, so what happened? I understood better now the sadness in her eyes. I came from an ancestry that spanned centuries and she didn’t even know who her parents were. That had to make her feel very small in a great big world. It didn’t help that she was living with the world’s biggest assholes. They needed to answer for their treatment of her. I’d make sure one day they did.
I studied the painting coming to life on the canvas. It was Alexis that first day, clutching that ugly ass bike. I’d always remember her just like that, the image already burned onto my brain. The day was coming when I would have to let her go, but I’d always have this…my girl who claimed my heart with no more than a look.
Alexis
I swear I spent the day in a daze. I’d seen Greyson more today than I ever had at school. He was at my locker between classes, waiting for me outside of homeroom. I loved that he wanted to see me as much I wanted to see him.
The day was almost over. I reached my locker and was disappointed that he wasn’t there. As soon as I opened it, a note fell out. Excitement swept through me because I had never before gotten a note in my locker. Unfolding it revealed a strong masculine script.
Hey, beautiful. Meet me at my bike after school.
G
My heart started pounding, my hands got sweaty, and the damn butterflies started again. I wouldn’t be paying a lick of attention for the rest of the day. At least the rest of the day was only two more periods. I folded up the note and tucked it into my pocket. I would keep it forever, pressed in between the pages of a favorite book.
After the final bell, I headed outside. A strong arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back against a familiar muscled chest…so much for meeting at his bike.
“Come with me.”
“Anywhere.”
He took me to the bluff, the place he wanted to paint. As soon as he climbed off his bike he had me in his arms. The kiss was hot and sweet. “Hi.”
I really liked this new way he had for saying hi.
He reached for my hand. We walked along the bluff. Neither of us needed words, the silence was comforting. We found a spot and sat down. It really was beautiful here. The year was moving so quickly and as much as I was going to miss him, I was excited for him and what came next. He was looking out at the horizon, the wind teasing his hair. He looked a lot like how he had that day on my jetty. I’d remember him like this, had already tucked the sight away with my other memories.
“Have you thought about where you’ll be in twenty years?” He glanced over. “I know you know what to expect, and I’m not looking for you to say with me because we both had dreams before we met, but where do you hope to end up?”
He had thought about it because he didn’t need time to answer. “I’d like to be known. Not necessarily a household name like my agent is hoping, but enough that galleries are bidding to show my work. Ideally, the dream would be to get an exhibit at The Met and have a small paragraph in the history books as an artist of mention. But I’d be happy to make a living off my art, one where I can pick and chose commissions. I’d like a house on the water, a wife I can’t get enough of…” He grinned and my heart flipped. “Kids. What about you?”
“The ultimate dream is to win an Academy Award for best adapted screenplay based on my international best seller.”
Humor danced in his eyes. “Are you sure? Do you need time to think about it?”
“I want to rub his bald, golden head, put it in a case that is on a motion sensor so every time someone walks into the room, the case lights up and the Academy music starts to play.”
He was laughing, but not at me. “You’ve really thought about this.”
“Yeah, since I was a kid. But I’d be happy with being successful enough I could support myself with my writing, having a fan base. I’d like to do a play that is shown Off-Off-Broadway, but if I’m being really ambitious, Off-Broadway.”
“Not on Broadway.”
“I’d love that, but I need to be somewhat realistic.”
He chuckled before he asked, “Do you see yourself married?”
To him, I could see that so clearly. “Yes, and kids.”
He touched my cheek. “It’s you I see with me. I know there’s a lot that can happen between then and now, but right now I see us, older, more gray, but I’m still as crazy about you as I am now.”
I rested my head on his shoulder. “I see that too.”
“I’ve never felt this way before.”
Tears prickled my eyes. “Me either.”
“When it is time for me to go, I have to just go or I won’t be able to.”
Thinking about the day that was coming too soon, my chest grew tight. I wasn’t sure how I’d survive him walking out of my life. “Like a Band-Aid. Just rip it off. Maybe our paths will cross again.”
He lifted my chin to look me in the eyes. “Our paths will definitely cross again. This thing between us is just getting started.”
The moment was bittersweet because your first boyfriend was rarely your forever boyfriend, but in that perfect moment I let myself believe.