"You have a beautiful body,” I told him, whispering soft kisses over the high cheekbones and the peak of his nose.
"I think that's my line," he choked out.
"It's not a line.”
Gray reached for my wandering hand and pulled me down gently over him, repositioning me so I lay between the V of his legs.
"Maybe not." He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. His lips were both soft and firm, and at first, it was just a plush meeting of flesh. When he parted his mouth and I felt the wetness of his tongue against the seam of my lips, I couldn't stop my own answer. The touch of his tongue against mine made me shudder. Collapsing against him, I clutched at his shoulder and ate at his mouth with a fervor matched by his own hunger.
He pushed his hips up, his groin pressing directly against my center. The sensation was so exquisite that I nearly came from just the pressure. This is so much better than touching myself.
"My God," he whispered against my lips. "Say it again."
I hadn't realized I said it out loud. "This feels better than what I've been doing at home."
"Tell me," he asked, rocking his hips against me. Reaching down, he pulled my legs over his, switching our positions so that my legs were outside of his. I could control the contact better and I ground down. I let out a moan of frustration.
Gray was experienced enough to know what that sound meant. He reached between us, slipping his big hand down to cup me between my legs. "Tell me," he demanded again. "I'll get you off again.” Rubbing the heel of one hand directly against my pubic bone, his other hand pulled at my hair so he could leave a trail of wet hot kisses along my throat. "You tell me what you think about when you touch yourself and I promise, I will bring you off, and it will be good.”
I'd've promised anything to him at this point.
"I think about being licked between my legs." I bit my tongue and whimpered a little as Gray rubbed two fingers against me. My inner thighs felt damp and I squirmed at the thought of how wet I was, but Gray wouldn't let me move away, just kept up a relentless stroking rhythm. My toes curled as I felt a tightness seize body.
"What else?" he growled in my ear. "When you touch yourself, do you get your fingers wet or do you just rub on top?"
"Wet," I choked out. "I get wet."
"I'm going to see just how wet.” His fingers dipped inside me. “Very wet," he said and his approving tone made me feel sexy instead of uncomfortable. The touch of his rough fingers against my sensitive skin was delicious. Reaching down, I pressed my hand against his although I wasn't sure if I wanted him to stop or touch me harder. Then he started talking again and I was done for.
"I can't wait until we’re in a bed and the lights are on. I’ll be staring at your pussy." He ran his tongue against my neck while his fingers were busy between my legs, stroking me with short, firm movements. "I bet you're pink and your honey will be dripping off of it. I'll prop your ass up on a couple of pillows and then I'll kneel between your legs. My first motion will be to lick you from right here," he curled both of his fingers close to my most sensitive area and then swept them forward, "to here. I'll suck your little clit into my mouth until it’s hard and while I’m doing that, I’ll slip my fingers inside you and pump you until your sweet come floods my hand." While he talked, his fingers pinched my clit and then he slipped first one finger and then another inside me. And that was all it took. I came all over him, the words, the touching, all of it sending me out of my mind. My hips came off the seat, meeting the thrusts of his fingers eagerly.
He stroked me all throughout my shudders and then when my body had quieted and my legs had collapsed, he withdrew his fingers and cupped me tenderly. His lips came down on mine again.
"That was beautiful. Jesus." He shook his head against my body. "Sam, I don't know what's going on between us, but this is too damn good not to explore, even temporarily."
Smoothing my hands over the planes of his shoulder blades and down his broad back, I reveled in the feel of his weight pressing me into me. "Yes." It was the only word that mattered now.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHAT WE’D SHARED IN THE car changed something between Gray and me. And it wasn’t just sex. It was the connecting we did afterward. I wondered if he could hear how much he actually didn’t enjoy his random soulless hook ups—calling himself a live action dildo wasn’t much of a compliment. They weren’t even his friends, even if he liked to use the label “friends with benefits.” Obviously his cheating ex had affected him badly, and he’d not gotten over it. But guys that went into the military didn’t like to admit that they were weak.
Will had come home after basic training and I’d asked him why his feet looked like they had been tortured. Was it called boot camp because your feet took on the smell and look of a worn rubber boot?
But he’d scoffed at my concern. His fucked-up feet were a sign of his achievements, I guess. I tried to get him to get a pedicure with me, but he’d said he wasn’t going to spend any minute of his leave having some chick paint his toenails. He’d never hear the end of it. I suspected Gray was just the same way. Admitting that a girl hurt his heart so much that he was afraid to get close again wasn’t in his DNA. But I recognized grief and loss and sorrow and pain. I’d lived with it for years. Those feelings were intimate friends of mine, and they dogged Gray too.
I drove him back to Adam’s house. He invited me in, but I didn’t want to wake up in a house full of guys and neither of us were ready for him to go back to the condo. Heck, even I went back to my parents’ house. I told Gray I was too tired to drive anywhere but the truth was that I was scared to go back to my condo. Scared that Will would be there, looking at me with disapproval. He’d be able to smell Gray on me and see the lazy look of satisfaction in my eyes. I'd just had an orgasm with someone other than Will, and I wasn't ready to bring that home. Instead, I climbed into my Will-free bed and dreamt of another man between my legs.
When I woke up feeling guilty and turned on, I called Eve for some courage and advice.
"You aren't supposed to have feelings for the rebound guy, right?" I asked Eve the next morning.
"Right!" she exclaimed. "Tell me you aren't falling for soldier boy."
I didn't say anything.
"Are you there?" Eve asked.
"You told me not to tell you anything."
"Dammit, Sam." The gusty sigh whistled over the telephone line.
"I know but he's so vulnerable." I told Eve about his friends with benefits.
"So he's not over his ex?"
"No, he's over her, but he's still suffering from the negative side effects. I get it."
"He's not a widower." Eve tried to depress my mounting excitement.
"I know, but he's suffered. I feel, I don't know, like he’s a kindred spirit or something."
"I think you're reading too much into this."
"I'm not," I protested. We'd even exchanged phone numbers before he'd kissed me sweetly good night. The memory of last night made my body tingle all over. "He's very sweet beneath his prickly exterior. He really longs for a special connection with someone but is too scared to reach for it."
Eve contemplated this for a moment. "That sounds like how you feel."
"Could be. Could be we both feel this way."
"Just be careful." Eve sighed.
"Thanks for the pep talk." I smiled and hung up at her blowing me a raspberry over the phone.