Page 40 of Her Pretty Words

I try to remember that little boy, and imagine how he would look now, but I can’t. My attention keeps snapping to Grayson, who I’ve caught watching me with deep intensity.

We move past the topic quickly, and the four of us bounce back and forth between easy conversation until the place is empty. We say our goodbyes once Elliot locks up The BARnacle.

It’s only Grayson and I standing outside the restaurant. He glances at the parking lot, with only one car, then the empty bike rack. “You walked?”

I nod.

“Come on,” he says, placing his hands in the front pocket of his jeans and sauntering to his car. When he sees that I’m not beside him, he faces me. “If you want to walk, then walk. But I’ll be in my car right behind you.”

I purse my lips together. “Creep.”

“It isn’t safe for you to walk at this hour. It’s dark.” He steps closer, eating away the distance between us. “Let me take you home.”

His concern for my safety is warming. “Fine.”

He opens the passenger door for me and is quiet when he pulls out of the lot and onto the road. His elbow is resting on the center console, his other hand holding the steering wheel loosely. We are silent the entire way home. I turn to him right as he’s about to shut off the engine. I grab his hand and say, “Thank you again for what you did. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

His eyes go to our hands, and he runs his thumb over my knuckles.

My skin breaks out into a chill. I suck in a quick breath when he brings the back of my hand to his warm lips. Eyes glued to mine, he flips my hand over and kisses my wrist. A gentle sound escapes my mouth on its own accord, and his eyes widen slightly.

He’s grinning when he pulls my arm, causing me to fall into him. “Don’t make sounds like that around me, Mace, because once I hear one, I’ll want to coax all of them from you,” he whispers.

“Is that a threat?” I hardly recognize my own voice. Lust pulls at my vocal cords in a way it never has before.

“It’s a promise.”

My blood runs ten degrees warmer from the heat of his stare. He leans his forehead against mine and I erase the distance between our lips without a second thought. He wastes zero time to reciprocate the kiss. My hands seem to have a mind of their own when they grip his shoulders like an anchor. His tongue brushes mine and I can’t control the soft moan I make.

Suddenly, he’s turning off the engine and then stepping out of the vehicle. Before I can catch my breath, the passenger door opens and he pulls me out of the car by my hands, then lifts me so I’m straddled around his waist. He holds me as if I weigh nothing, tightly gripping the underside of my thighs. He presses my back against the hard surface of his front door.

There’s nothing kind about the way I take his lips in mine. My fingers slip through his soft hair and then firmly tug the roots. The idea of tormenting him as much as he’s done to me since the moment we met is what fuels me to roll my hips against the hardest part of him. His groan answers me.

“Open the door.” My voice is low and raspy.

His eyes are holding mine as he pushes me past the threshold. He sets me down on the closest surface, whichhappens to be his kitchen counter. Big hands frame my face, then he slowly trails one down the side of my neck, over my shoulder, his callouses scrape my arm until he’s holding my hand. His gaze is tender, too kind. Suddenly I have no idea what to do. Unease settles in my body, and I think back to my previous sexual encounters, all of which were with Walter.

He never kissed me like this. His hands never explored my body beside the parts of me that benefited him. He never cared to ensure I was physically and mentally ready for him. He just took what he wanted.

I can feel it now, him pushing into me when I wasn’t aroused. How it hurt more than felt good. I’d have sex with him because if I didn’t want to, he’d scoff and make me feel bad.

He never looked into my eyes to know that they were filling with tears. I’d roll over when he was done. I remember the way it felt to mute my sobs, how much my stomach hurt from trying to contain my pain so he wouldn’t hear.

A thumb swipes across my cheek, bringing me back to the present. Grayson towers over me, and his eyes are no longer glassing over in arousal. They’re searching mine in concern. “What did I do? Did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t do anything.” I look away in embarrassment, but he hooks his finger beneath my chin, so my eyes are on him.

“Tell me,” he pleads.

“I’ve never been touched like this before,” I say, gauging his reaction. “It feels sonice. God, I can’t believe I’m crying.” He watches me intently, without any judgment, so I continue. “With Walter, this sort of thing was always just for him, so I’ve never actually been, I don’t know—caressed, this way.”

His jaw ticks and then he pulls me to him in such a kind embrace. It’s easy to forget how much he once irritated me in this moment. After a few breaths, I’m not even sure who’s holding who anymore.

“It’s funny, you know? I’m a romance author, yet I’ve never experienced anything close to what I write, especially inthatdepartment.” I laugh. “I don’t think sex is as good as the movies and books make it seem.”

He pulls out of our hug, pressing his hands against the counter so he’s caging my hips. His head leans down, his eyes pooling with sympathy and pouring into mine. “If I were lucky enough to be with you, I’d make you feel so good. God, I’dworshipyou. I think with you it’d be better than the movies.”

My breath catches from his words, and my pulse drops between my legs. “Lucky enough?”

---