“Fuck,” he says as he takes in my new position. I can tell he likes it—a hell of a lot. “Babe, are you sure—” he starts, but I cut him off by taking his hardness in my hand and stroking. Then, I lick the head, and suck on it a little, before sliding the length into my mouth.
“Paris… fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses as his hands gently tangle in my hair. “Just like that,” he encourages as I hollow my cheeks and take as much of him in my mouth as I can. I’m enjoying myself when he gently pulls me away, lifts me up, and carries me onto the bed. Now for the finale. Grayson starts chuckling again. I really need to stop voicing my thoughts during sex.
“That turned you on,” he rasps into my ear. He makes an approving sound mixed with a groan.
“What?” I ask breathlessly as he starts to play with my clit.
“You’re dripping wet,” he explains, “all from going down on me. That’s so fucking hot, Paris.” He pulls away from me to grab a condom and slides it on. Then he’s back on me, gently sliding inside me.
“You okay?” he asks in a low husky voice. I can tell he’s holding back, wanting to go gentle and slow.
“Yes I’m fine, just fuck me already,” I say. He stills for a second, letting me adjust to his size before he pulls out and slides back in.
“Not fucking, Paris—never with you,” he says before he kisses me. He pulls back for a moment and our eyes connect. His are full of wonder and lust. The way he looks at me makes me feel like the most precious thing in the world. I hope the look in my eyes lets him know that he’s everything to me, too. I lift my hips up and follow his rhythm as best as I can. Soon I can feel another orgasm cresting, and I dig my nails into his back as I climax. Grayson follows me soon after, his body jerking as he finishes. I stare at his face the whole time, watching the pleasure in his expression. I think I could get addicted to this moment.
“I’m fine, Grayson. Better than fine,” I say quietly, before he can ask me.
“Good. That was amazing, Paris,” he says, gently pushing away the hair on my slightly damp forehead. “The best.”
“I have a great teacher,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows. He rolls his eyes at me, kissing me twice before heading to the bathroom to clean up. When he comes back with a wet cloth to clean me, I’m surprised by the sweet gesture.
“Don’t get all shy on me now,” he says, as I squirm a little while he’s wiping me. I put a pillow over my face, earning me a chuckle. He leaves again, sliding in beside me when he returns seconds later. Pulling me into his arms, I put my head on his chest and my leg on his thigh.
“Guess what,” he says after a few moments.
“What?”
“You just became mine.”
I smile into his chest.
Chapter Twelve
I roll my eyes when T- Pain’s “I’m In Love With A Stripper” plays next. The crowd still goes wild over this song. I swirl around on the pole, spreading my legs wide, before stopping to seductively remove my top. I’m wearing a pink leather top that zips up at the front, so it’s easy to remove. I’m all about convenience. When I woke up this morning, I made a decision. I’m quitting Toxic. There is no way I can be a Toxic Girl and have Grayson, so something has to give. I’ll have to think of something else to pay off the debt. I’m wondering how much people are paying for organs on the black market these days when the song changes to “Drunk In Love” by Beyoncé; I slow down my moves, grinding on the pole in time with the music.
By the time my shift is over, I’m exhausted. I get changed, scrub my makeup off, grab my bag, and call a cab. One of the bouncers waits outside with me, making sure I get in safely.
“Thanks,” I call out to him before I close the door. It takes me fifteen minutes to get home. Anaya is at her boyfriend’s, so the house is empty. I take a long bath, relaxing my body, and then I get into my pyjamas. Around three am, I finally fall asleep.
“How many more hours are you going to spend here?” Grayson whispers to me, taking the empty seat next to me. I shiver a little as his warm breath blows on my ear.
“Just another hour or so,” I say, closing the textbook I was reading and moving on to the next one. He looks around the library, taking in its near vacant state.
“Does anyone even come here anymore?” he asks dryly, looking vaguely amused with his brows raised.
“Yes,” I say. “They do. Me for example.”
“Yeah but… you’re weird,” he says, leaning over and kissing me chastely on the lips.
I close the book. “I’m not going to get any work done with you here, am I?” I ask, fighting a smile.
He grins wolfishly. “I have a surprise for you. I’m a little impatient.”
I instantly perk up. “A surprise?”
“Yes, a surprise.”
I grab my books and stand up. “What are we waiting for then?”
He chuckles and takes my books from me, carrying them in one hand and taking my hand in the other. We exit the library and get into his car, and then drive straight to his house.
“Exactly what kind of surprise is this?” I ask as we walk to his front door, suspicion lacing my tone.
He looks at my face and starts laughing. “What’s going through your head right now?”
I look down at his crotch area and wiggle my eyebrows. He laughs even harder. I roll my eyes and pry the keys out of his fingers, unlocking his front door and walking in. I can still hear him laughing at the front door. Idiot. I walk into the dining room, and my breath hitches. He’s put candles, fancy plates, glasses, and cutlery out. A huge bouquet of red roses stands in the centre, with a card addressed to me. I smell the roses before opening the card. It only has two words written on there, in his messy, scribbled handwriting.
Just because.
“Just because what?” I ask aloud, playing with a rose bud.
“Just because I wanted to show you how much you mean to me,” he says from behind me. I turn to face him. “I don’t need a special occasion to show you that.”
I smile. “I love the roses, thank you.”
He returns my smile, walking toward me and pulling out a chair. “Sit, please,” he says. I do as I’m told, sitting down while he lights the candles. He goes into the kitchen, returning with two plates filled with food, and places them in the centre. He returns to the kitchen and comes back in with another two bowls.
“Feeding an army?” I ask playfully, peering into the dishes.
He grins down at me. “Just wanted to make sure there were things you like.”
“Did you cook this?” I ask, my mouth watering at the roast chicken.
“Maybe,” he replies, kissing me on top of my head. He brings out a bottle of wine and pours me a glass. Red—my favourite.
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” he replies, sitting down next to me.
“I feel really fancy right now,” I say, earning me another amused look. I wink at him and watch as he serves my plate first, asking me what I want, before serving his. The meal is delicious. Afterwards, I help him clean up, ignoring his protests, and we sit on the couch and share some cookies and cream ice cream, eating straight out of the tub with two spoons.
Best date I’ve ever had.
“What time do you finish work tomorrow night?” Grayson asks me the next week, lifting me onto his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck.