Page 78 of Those Heartbreak Scars

Gray touches my back. His eyes ask if I need him.

I shake my head.

“You’re coming home then,” my dad says.

“I’m not sure.” I study the polish on my toes while Gray pulls on slate colored sweatpants and takes his phone out to the living area. He probably has a million calls of his own to return after that resignation email. Who knows who Everett’s talked to by now.

“It’s not a question, Sprite.”

I wish I was home so he could engulf me in a big bear hug, but I’m not ready to pack up my life and move back home. That will only concrete my failure. And I want to see where this thing with Gray goes. I can’t do that at my parents’. “I have the job at Beans for now while I work out my next move. I have this handled, Dad.”

He sighs. “You have enough to get by? You’re doing okay with your flatmate?”

“Yes, Dad. Everything is fine. I promise.”

“And the meds? Your mom wants to know if you’re still taking them.”

I hear her in the background. She’s much louder than my dad. “Of course.”

“We just want you to be happy.” My father’s voice is gruff with emotion. He’s not good at showing his feelings, so he always struggled with how big and loud mine can be.

“I am happy,” I admit as I watch Gray prowl back and forth past the bedroom door. “I think I could be really happy.”

We talk for a little while longer, then he hands the phone to my mom. I spend the next ten minutes having exactly the same conversation. Only she’s more emotional than my dad, and it takes more to convince her that I’m capable of staying abroad while I figure out my life.

When I disconnect with my parents, Gray’s still on the phone. “No problem. Make my resignation effective immediately. But, Harold, understand when I say the man is a prick. He doesn’t understand consent. What he did tonight was not fucking appropriate. Send Crew to sign him if he’s that important to you, but I’m telling you the agency will regret it.”

Spotting me watching him, he hangs up without saying goodbye.

Leaving his phone on the table, he picks me up and presses my back to the wall while he kisses me. One of his big hands wraps around my wrists and pins them above my head. “Mmm. I like the way you taste like me.”

I like the way he picks me up like I’m not a big girl. I like the way his tongue slides against mine. My heart beats for him.

“I ordered pizza,” he says. “I’d take you for kebabs, but your Turkish hitmen scare the shit out of me.”

“You’re scared of Emmad and Asaf?” I tease.

“No. I just really did not want to have to leave the hotel where I have you all to myself.” He kisses me again as he carries me tothe sofa and sits with me straddling his lap. “You can hold the pie while I fill you like a cream pie.”

I choke on my laughter. But the idea of him filling me… His cock is hard again so I push down the soft elastic waist of his sweats until he juts out.

Wrapping my hand around it, I guide his cock to my entrance and sink down on it. His grip on me is gentle. He explores my mouth while we kiss then moves on to my breasts as I rise and fall over him again and again.

He wraps his lips around a nipple and uses his tongue to toy with my piercing. He leaves warm rosy circles to match the ones on my hips before moving to the other breast.

“Come for me, Rica.” He bites my nipple.

The sensation tugs at my core and makes me clench. That makes him groan and the vibration on my skin increases my tempo as I rock on him.

The orgasm is a lovely, achy thing. It’s a warmth that spreads through my belly to my toes.

“That’s my good girl.” He shifts his hips faster, driving up into me until he fills me.

I rest my head on his shoulder.

“I’m never going to get enough of you,” he tells me a scant moment before there is a knock on the door.

“Pizza.” I crack my neck, focusing on the door. Now that my need for an orgasm is temporarily sated and the promise and aroma of food is right outside I climb from his lap like a woman on a mission.

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