Page 61 of Please, Stay

Grayson’s fingers tormented her with the slow swirling motion they made on the bare skin of her lower back. She’d promised to be bored with him one time before he left. Trying to type her article while he read over his script next to her on the bed turned out to be torture. Not boring.

The days had slowly ticked by, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about seeing her after his movie finished filming. They hadn’t had much of a chance to talk while moving Eliza, but now, alone in his room at the bed and breakfast, they had privacy and time. Still nothing.

“How’s it coming?” he asked.

Her face fell into his comforter. “Horrible.” It came out muffled. The bed shook when he laughed. Picking her head up, she rolled from her stomach to her side and looked back at the head of the bed where he sat. “I can’t concentrate.”

“I have that effect on women.” He laughed when she rolled her eyes. He set his script to the side. “You want to talk about your article?”

“Nothing to talk about.” Nothing he wanted to talk about. The future. He’d leave, and she’d take over the newspaper. She knew that going into this relationship. What she hadn’t counted on was falling for him. A quick, easy, fun fling was what it should have been. Not something where she could picture herself with him in the long-term.

“I know what you need.” He crawled across the bed, pressing his lips along the column of her throat, before continuing off the bed. “I made sure to buy some food this morning after you mentioned writing here with me.” He pulled out a bag of Oreos.

She sat up in anticipation. He passed it to her as he pressed a kiss to her cheek and went back to the top of the bed. She opened them. “You already ate an entire row?”

“I’m a junk food junkie. Can’t help it.”

He loves Oreos and rides a motorcycle. In Juliana’s book, that was about as sexy as you could get. She snagged three and pulled her laptop with her to the top of the bed to sit beside him. He snatched one of her three cookies.

She laughed, but her insides wanted to cry. After this week, if it all went according to plan, she’d get her family back and lose Grayson at the same time. The most she could hope for was one perfect Christmas Day. Grayson there along with Eliza, Carrie, and her dad.

“Hey,” he said and tilted her chin up until she met his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just a little sad that this time next week, you’ll be gone.” There. No games. If he liked her at all, it wouldn’t frighten him off.

His head rested on the back of the headboard, and he stared straight ahead. “I know.” He swallowed.

Leaning up, she pressed a kiss to his neck, along the same spot he’d kissed her. She took a breath, loving the scent of his skin.

His hands gripped her hips and picked her up to straddle his lap. She didn’t need another invitation. Her mouth crashed into his, and she kissed him with everything she had. This was nothing more than a delay tactic. She should stop and force him to explain his plans instead of getting carried away like this. But his taste, his body under hers, gave her the excuse to ignore reality.

Her shirt lifted. Grayson broke the kiss long enough to pull it over her head and toss it away.

In another second, her bra joined her shirt on the floor, somewhere behind her. The man turned out to be Houdini with clothes.

If he got skin, she wanted skin as well. She tugged his shoulders until he sat forward. Pulling once at the bottom of his shirt, he got the idea and finished the job. The feel of their bodies pressed together made it hard to think of stopping. She wanted more. She wanted him.

She flattened her hand over the lion tattoo. Over his heart. She knew, even if the rest of the world didn’t, what made him such an amazing man. Where he’d come from.

Pulling her tight against him, he sat up and rolled her onto her back.

The Oreo bag crunched.

They both froze and looked at each other.

She laughed first.

“I think the universe is against us.” He looked annoyed, but a smile finally emerged. He rolled them across the bed, ending with her under him again. Propping up on his forearms, he gazed down her body. “God, you’re beautiful.”

She felt beautiful. With their gazes locked, she glided her fingers down his stomach and unbuckled his belt.

He closed his eyes, and his forehead wrinkled. “We shouldn’t, Jules.”

She hesitated. “You said before that you wanted—” she swallowed “—me.” Geez, why was he giving her a pity look? Pity looks are not appropriate when someone is half-naked and contemplating sex.

“I do, but we both realize I’m leaving. I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I won’t.”

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