Page 80 of Return To You

His gaze darts between my eyes, but he says nothing.

I boop him. “I’m going to take a shower, then we can go for a ride or brunch somewhere, not too late? Whatever you want. I should be done with her before three.”

He lets me leave his arms and settles on his back, gazing at the ceiling.

“Wanna join me in the shower?”

A slow grin spreads across his face as his gaze travels down my body. I slowly take his jersey off, leaving my hands up in the air and wiggling my ass at him as I leave the bedroom.

“Be right there,” he calls after me.

twenty-five

Ethan

What.

The fuck.

Is happening.

My heartbeat won’t slow. My mouth is dry. My hands tingle from the absence of Grace.

I force myself to stare at the ceiling and empty my thoughts and ground myself.

I find that I’m not ungrounded, or whatever the word is. I’m not disconnected. There aren’t a million different thoughts going through my mind.

I have only one thought.

Grace.

One feeling.

Completeness.

I have no other thoughts or feelings.

And that’s a good thing. I’m in the moment. Present. That’s all I need right now.

I look to the bathroom where she disappeared.

Seconds later I’m in the shower with her, lathering her luscious breasts. My balls are asking for a little time off, and I know she needs a break too. So my dick will have to sit this one out.

Grace looks down at me and licks her lips, then lathers my torso, slightly scraping her fingernails on my skin, hunger all over her face.

“Do you ever get tired?” I growl, echoing her earlier question.

“Not with you.”

My dick twitches while my heart pinches at this. That she had others. But that it’s better with me. Which, I get it, is probably something she or any woman would say anyway. But let’s be honest. In my case? I think it’s true. I think I’m the best she’s ever had. Why? Not because I’m arrogant. Well, I am arrogant. But honestly, I saw the look on her face. She was at times surprised by my moves, always eager to follow, and her moaning? She could make porn stars blush. And one thing I know about Grace: she doesn’t fake.

“Mm. Looks like you’re not tired either,” she says, stroking my now-hard cock under the pretense of lathering it. Looking down, I have a view of my rod in her hand, and her pebbled nipples dripping water. I palm her breast, flick her nipple, and she tilts her head up to me as she moans, water droplets running down her cheeks, the pink tip of her tongue running over her lower lip.

She strokes me hard, bringing the tip of my cock against her belly. Then she gets on her knees and looks at me pleadingly, and fuck me, but her expression right now? I could come all over her face just for that. So when she says, “Can I please suck you off?” and lowers her eyes to my cock, I’m torn. While she waits for my answer, she rinses the soap suds off my cock and licks her lips again.

Despite my earlier protestation of needing a break, I was about to fuck her against the shower wall, a personal fantasy I’ve yet to fulfill. I know, weird it hasn’t happened yet, but I’m not mad I’ll get to do that with Grace first. I can just see it, her glistening skin, the slickness of our bodies colliding, me holding her wrists above her head, driving inside her effortlessly.

She looks up at me, the shower hitting her face, making her blink. “Just fuck my face, Ethan,” she orders in that small voice that always drove me wild, “Just take me, Ethan, take what’s yours,” she’d said to me ages ago when she gave me her virginity.

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