Page 59 of Defended By Love

Because, of course, he’s smiling. It seems that every time he looks at me, he’s smiling.

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there,” Grant says. My hands still hold his face, my thumb toying at the corner of his smile that he can’t seem to wipe completely from his mouth.

A hot tear falls unbidden from my eyes. Even though I know it’s just a job, it hurts. It feels like I’ve lost someone I love. Or a part of me that I love.

Even as I think about how completely ridiculous it is to cry over a job, more tears come.

Grant’s hands are on my cheeks. We stand on my terrace, holding the other’s face and staring into each other’s eyes. My thumbs chase the errant smile on his face while his brush away every tear before it has the chance to mar my face with its descent.

“I just thought that they needed me,” I babble.

Grant nods. “They’re idiots.”

Probably. But I don’t know if that makes me feel better to be rejected by idiots.

Going on my tiptoes, I press a kiss to Grant’s mouth. It’s light and salty with tears, at least until the touch registers. Then, it goes from a calm ocean breeze to a raging typhoon.

One of his hands leaves my face and touches me everywhere all at once. He’s on my waist, on the top of my rib cage, and then on my ass. With a squeeze of my ass that sends shivers and a needy moan through my body, he starts walking me backwards until my back hits my patio door.

Dipping his head down, his mouth is hot on my neck, kissing and sucking and grazing his teeth on me, as he runs his hand a little off my ass and onto my thigh. With one fluid motion, he hitches my leg up and around his hip. His lips find mine again and he’s kissing me in a way that makes me forget any kiss that hasn’t been with Grant.

He bends his legs and tilts my head back to possess my mouth. His tongue sweeps into me as his hard cock nudges at my throbbing clit. Again, I swear he must be using his gravity powers to put it in exactly the right place because it rubs up and down in just the right place to make me shudder with every grinding pass.

Another moan escapes my throat. It sends Grant into an even more escalated frenzy. As easily as lifting his arms, he lifts me so that both of my legs wrap around him. My back bores into the door behind me as he scorches my mouth with impatient kisses and the promise of pleasure.

Impatient myself, I move one of my hands between us to stroke at his cock. The tips of my fingers just barely dip below his waistband and graze the top of his cock when he pulls back abruptly.

He slides me down the front of him, making a garbled noise of frustration when he turns away.

Grant scrubs a hand through his impossibly messy hair, shooting me a look of painful desperation.

“You’re upset,” he says, but I think he’s mostly saying it as a reminder to himself. “You’re crying and sad and…” His eyes rake me over. I know how I look, panting with anticipation and flushed from pleasure.

He takes a heavy step towards me. We’re in each other’s breathing space; my air is his and his is mine. His forehead dips down to rest against mine and he pulls up one of my hands. He curls his hand around it and holds it against his racing heart.

“Not now,” he whispers. “Not yet. Not until you’ve fallen for me. This can’t just be physical.”

He kisses my forehead and pulls back, our hands still folded against his chest.

I scowl. “You have quite the habit of rejecting me.”

“And you have quite the habit of coming on to me when you’re upset.” He grins. “Have you considered getting a stress ball to deal with your feelings?”

“Whenever I have feelings, I just work until I’m too tired to feel,” I mumble.

Then, I pause. That’s maybe the saddest sentence I’ve ever said. Not only is it the truth—I did work to avoid feelings—it’s also not possible any longer.

“I’d really like to have a bunch of mind-blowing sex to avoid all this.” I try to say it as a joke, but it comes out as a sad elegy to my broken heart.

“I know,” Grant whispers into my hair. “Unfortunately, we’re going to have to save the mind-blowing sex for another time.”

I get that he’s right. I get that I should probably take some time to come to terms with the shattering of my worldview instead of just coming. Still, it’s markedly less fun.

“You sure we couldn’t just sneak in a couple of quick orgasms apiece to take the edge off?” I ask, not really daring to hope that he’s going to say yes.

Grant laughs. For once, it’s an appropriate time to laugh. I was in fact trying to make a bit of a joke. Sort of.

“I don’t want you to give you a quicky orgasm to ‘take the edge off’. In fact, I don’t want you running away from your feelings at all. I’m in love with you and one day, some day soon, you’re going to fall in love with me right back. When you do, I want you to feel as hopelessly lovesick as I feel. I want you to love me so much it’s all you can think about. I want you to love me so much that you smile to yourself when you think about the colour of my eyes. I want you humming love songs to yourself because, suddenly, they all make sense.

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