Page 22 of Deceiving Grier

“The thing is, he could live a while longer with treatment and if he takes care of himself, but he won’t, not until I take over the company. He has my older sister running the place right now, but he still won’t step down. He wants to pass the company to his only son like his father and his grandfather did. He’s really hung up on the wholelegacything. Anyway, when I go back, I’ll have blown my opportunity to be with someone and not have to worry about my family and how they would react if they heard.”

“First, you still have several months before the spring semester ends, and there’s no time limit for when you can have sex. It’s not a race. There’s no magical date for when you’re supposed to give or get your first blow job or stick your dick in someone’s ass.”

He blurted out a laugh and slanted a glance my way as he pushed open the door. Was that something he would like, and would he want to top or bottom? I’d done both, and I definitely had a preference. For a second, I let myself picture Grier naked on my bed, stomach pressed into the mattress while I sank into his perfectly rounded ass. I wondered if he’d want that. Not right away, probably. He would need to go slow. He needed someone to take their time with him, to put in the effort to take him out of his head and just get lost in how good sex felt instead of worrying so much if he was doing it right or not.

God, a part of me wanted to grab his hand, drag him to my room and show him what that asshole should have shown him years ago—how good it could be, to let Grier discover what he liked and what didn’t and at whatever pace he wanted. He shouldn’t be this hung up and afraid of doing it wrong.

As I followed Grier inside, an idea popped into my head.

“I’m sorry for dumping all this on you and if I wrecked your night,” Grier said, closing the door behind us.

“No, you didn’t. It’s fine. I’m glad you told me.”

“Well, I should probably go up,” he said, nodding to the stairs.

He started to turn away, but I reached out and grabbed his hand. When his gaze met mine, I said, “I could help you. I could teach you some things, so you would be more comfortable and confident when you had sex.”

“How…” His voice rasped as if he hadn’t used it in years. He cleared his throat and tried again. “How would you do that?”

I stepped closer and cupped his face with my free hand, tracing the pout of his lower lip with my thumb. “Well, there’s one way that seems fairly obvious.”

Now that I’d floated the idea aloud, the more convinced I was that this would be a perfect solution for both of us. I wanted him as much as I had before. His admission of having never been with anyone else was hardly a deterrent.

I could be with Grier—scratch that itch, so to speak—and get the man out of my system while helping him gain sexual confidence. A win - win for both of us.

On top of all that, I didn’t need to worry about either of us growing attached or putting expectations on each other. Hell, he was interested in someone else altogether.

“You want to have sex with me?” Grier asked, gaze narrowing while locked on mine as if he were trying to be sure I was being serious.

“As long as you’re comfortable with it, but yeah, I definitely would like to have sex with you.” If he only knew half the things I wanted to do with him… to him. “I mean, why not? We’re both attracted to each other.”

His frown deepened. Shit, maybe I’d pushed too fast, too soon.

“What about the roommate agreement? We don’t get involved with each other, so things don’t get awkward in the house.”

I smirked. “Who said anything about getting involved? It’s just sex.”

Grier was quiet for a long time, as if contemplating my words. Maybe I really had pushed too far, and sex without strings was way outside his comfort zone.

I dropped my gaze and realized I was still gripping his hand. I started to loosen my hold, but his fingers tightened around mine. When I looked up, his gaze was fixed on my face.

“Okay. Yes,” he said. “What do we do next?”

Chapter Nine

Grier

“Okay.Yes.Whatdowe do next?”

My words hung in the air for a long moment, neither of us seeming to know what to say next. Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, feeding my skittering nerves. My heart thrummed in my chest, and my mouth turned dry.

What if Sawyer hadn’t been serious and even now was trying to figure out a way to take it all back, to tell me he’d only been kidding, and it had all been a joke?

My face heated, and my stomach hollowed at the thought. I tried to swallow down the panic swelling in my throat and turned away, but Sawyer’s hand gripping mine squeezed tighter, keeping me from moving away. His other hand still cupped the side of my face, and he stroked my cheekbone with his thumb.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and quiet, but not soft. Underneath there was a sharp edge like broken glass.

Was I sure? I was tired of always feeling as if I was on the outside looking in, of feeling awkward and uncertain any time someone expressed a romantic interest in me. But did Iwantto have sex with Sawyer?

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