I pour the whipped egg mixture into the omelet pan, listening to the satisfying sizzle of it frying with the onion, mushroom, and spinach. I hum an unknown melody as I pour orange juice into two glasses, and set them on the tray. I add a sprinkling of fresh basil and feta cheese to the pan, flip the fluffy omelet in half, and transfer it to a plate, finishing off the masterpiece with a sprig of mint.
Of course there was no food in the house when I woke up this morning. There’s never food in a bachelor’s New York apartment. I normally eat out after work and Alex never lets me cook for her. She doesn’t see the point when we live in the restaurant capital of the country. But fortunately Lia was still sleeping when I got up, and I was able to sneak out to the bodega on the corner and stock up on a few essentials.
I balance the tray in my hands and carry it into the bedroom.
The sight of Lia’s naked body, tangled in my sheets, makes me nearly lose my cool. And every single item on this tray.
I stop in the doorway, admiring her face, her figure, her hair still tousled and slightly matted from our marathon fuck session in the shower and continuing in the bedroom last night. We didn’t even bother with towels or clothes or combs.
After that mind-blowing orgasm in the shower—that made me wonder what I’ve been doing all these years, since I clearly haven’t been having sex right—we staggered from the bathroom, drunk and languid in the glow of ecstasy, and collapsed onto the bed. We lay there, soaking wet and breathless and shuddering, drinking in each other’s eyes, running fingertips and toes and lips over skin and hair and muscles. Relishing the electricity that seems to dance between us whenever we’re near each other, like a bolt of lightning caught between two trees.
We whispered words back and forth. Promises to make up for lost time, to make up for lost living.
And then Lia found her way back to my lips, slipping tenderly into my arms, gliding easily under me like she was always meant to be there. I was ready for her. I think I’ve always been ready for her. Her legs parted and she invited me into her, warm and wet and welcoming. She coaxed me with eager movements from her hips, hungry arches of her back, fervent pressure from her fingertips.
We came over and over again. Each one more intense than the last. Each one linking another piece of us together.
We slept little last night. I feel bad waking her now. But she stirs when she senses my presence and I watch her eyes flutter open. She wakes with a smile on her face and I find myself wondering if she will always wake up like that.
God, I hope so.
Her sweet grin deepens when she sees the tray in my hand. Then she glances at the clock on the nightstand and her expression turns to panic. “It’s almost eleven! Why aren’t you at work?”
“I called in sick.” I come to the bed, placing the tray on the nightstand, and sitting down next to her. I point at my darkened phone that I turned off earlier this morning. “I’m all yours.”
She frowns at me in disbelief.
I cup her chin in my hand, loving the way she looks in the morning. “Don’t act so surprised,” I tell her. “You really think I could leave the apartment with you looking like that in my bed? I’d have to be a robot.”
Her hand slides down my bare chest, slipping between my legs, and tightening around my cock, which has been rock-hard since the moment I woke up next to her. “Nope,” she confirms with a wicked smirk, “definitely not a robot.”
“See?”
Her fingertip spirals playfully around the tip as her piercing blue eyes burn into mine.
“Well,” I say, clearing my throat theatrically, “if I had known that’s what you wanted for breakfast, I could have saved a lot of time.”
“Can’t I have both?” Her eyelids lower demurely and a tremor of anticipation rockets through me.
“Baby, you can have anything you want.”
I slip my arm underneath her knees, the other around her back, and lift her into the air, slamming her down at the foot of the bed. She squeals as I ravenously dive for the gorgeous curve of her neck, tasting her sweet skin with my tongue. Her palms press against my chest, clawing and kneading. I snatch both of her wrists and yank her arms above her head, holding them captive while I continue to devour her.
She moans into my ear, fueling my impatience.
I need her.
Need her like I’ve never needed anyone.
I marvel at how every second that I’m not inside of her feels like a second wasted. A useless moment shaved off my life. And even though I know now what it’s like to have her, to possess her completely, I still find myself anticipating the discovery of her like a sailor searching for blessed land after days of stormy seas. I still tremble and ache to know, all over again, what it will feel like to push myself inside her. To feel her soft wetness around me.
She is both new and familiar.
A heavenly reunion and an exhilarating revelation at the same time.
I lift my head to look at her. Her eyes are closed, her face twisted with beautiful torment.
“Grayson,” she whimpers, sending me spiraling. “Oh, God, yes.”
As I watch her lying beneath me, her hands locked helplessly in my grip, her body writhing in anticipation of me, opening up to me, a thought suddenly ricochets across my brain.
I am in total control.
She has entirely given herself over to me. She has trusted me with her heart, her body, her soul.
For once, I am on top. Both literally and figuratively.
She is not trying to own me. She is not trying to pull strings attached to my extremities. She is just letting me be me.
The realization sets off a surge of invigoration. I feel powerful. Masculine. Liberated.
“Look at me,” I command, still holding her hands prisoner.
I have never commanded anyone to do anything in my life. Alex has always been the one to make the demands. I’m just the poor fool who’s been willing to obey her all of these years.
But those days are over.
That Grayson is gone.
Lia’s eyes open and she gazes at me with such intensity, I’m not sure how much longer I can stay outside of her.
“Spread your legs,” I order.
Immediately, she obeys, the mischievous smile on her face letting me know that she’s enjoying it. That she wants this.
Her eyes plead me. Beg me.
But I don’t give in. Not yet. I issue my next directive. “Lift your hips.”
She slowly hoists her lower body into the air. I shift until I’m poised to penetrate her. I dip in an inch and stop. She bucks toward me, but I move out of reach.
She bites her bottom lip in frustration, crying out softly. “Please.”
I playfully descend again, just barely entering her, before retracting. She gasps and tips her head back, her eyelids starting to close again.
“No,” I bellow. “Look at me.”
Her eyes flash back open and she swallows hard. I watch her long, slender neck swell and contract.
“How bad do you want it?” I ask, my voice gruff and authoritative. Like I’ve never heard it before. The unfamiliar sound fuels me.
“Oh God, Grayson. So bad. I want it so bad. I need you inside of me.”
She tries again to steer me into her, but again I move away, keeping hold of the power, the marvelous control. “What are you willing to do for it?”
Her eyes never leave mine. She continues to squirm but I keep my hands firmly clasped around her wrists. “Anything. Anything in the world,” she pants the words. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I first saw you.”
“Open your legs wider,” I command.
She acts fast, her legs spreading across the entire width of the bed.
I tease her again, letting my tip gently graze, tauntingly pushing and then withdrawing. Her back arches, her face contorts, her breathing is labored and wild. I’m driving her absolutely crazy. And her desperation is doing the same to me.
I shift her wrists into one hand and bring the other to her chin, forcing her to keep looking at me. I bring my mouth close to hers, tickling her lip with the edge of my tongue.
Her body shudders hungrily beneath me, like it might explode at any minute.
“Grayson,” she breathes with effort. “I. Can’t. Take. This. Much—”
“Tell me what you want from me.”
“What?” Her eyes are glassy, glazed over with desire. She can’t focus on me. Can’t see straight.
I hold her chin tighter. “Tell me what you want from me,” I repeat, enunciating each word carefully.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she huffs. Her nipples are as hard as stone under my chest. She lifts her back as she writhes and they jab into me, sending another tremor of blinding anticipation through me.
“No!” I yell, pressing upward on her wrists until her back is stretched out flat. “Tell me NOW!”
“I want you to FUCK ME!” she screams, her voice ragged and worn.
I lift my hips into the air and slam them down, plunging deep inside of her. We both cry out in unison as the sweltering sensation explodes through us, bouncing off each other in a continual, never-ending transfer of pure, shivering bliss. I drive into her over and over again, feeling more powerful, more in control of my life with every thrust.
I release her hands and she claws desperately at my back, pulling me closer and closer.
“Kiss me,” I order her and her head rises to find my mouth, to crush her lips against mine. I shove my tongue in hard, trying to match the depth between her legs.
Our eyes remain open. We stay connected. Because we have nothing to hide.
She has brought out a side of me that I didn’t know existed.
And she has not shied away from it.
In fact, she welcomed it. As though she knew it was there all along and was just waiting to let it in.
I continue to surge inside of her, bringing us both to the brink of the shattering eruption as my hips crash against hers. As my hardness fills her and her warmth blankets me.
I break our gaze only long enough to bring my lips to her ear. “Now, come for me.” I whisper with the same unyielding authority.
It’s my last command before we both gasp and tumble into the abyss.