Page 28 of Deceiving Grier

Grier

IletSawyertakemy hand and lead me back to his room. Doing this again, being with Sawyer for another night, was probably a mistake of epic proportion—I’d already spent way too much time over the past three days thinking about the guy and what we’d done—but just then, I didn’t care.

Today had been a shit show. After handing an assignment in late that would undoubtedly get points docked, my coach chewed my ass out at practice in front of the entire team. Not that I didn’t deserve it. I’d been slow in everything I did, and my reaction time was almost nonexistent. I felt as though I’d been playing underwater.

We had a game this weekend, and I couldn’t afford to be this awful. I needed to pull my weight. I needed to get my shit together. Though, I wasn’t oblivious as to why I had been playing so badly or why I was behind on assignments. Since Sunday night, I’d been staying up half the night to work on budget forecasts my father had sent me. I tried to stall him and put them off until the end of the week, so I could keep up with my projects and school workload, but the mere suggestion had made him angry and agitated. He’d reminded me once again why I was even in college.

He’d ended the call by asking what the hell was I thinking and telling me he didn’t know who I was anymore. Worse, I couldn’t give him an answer, at least one he wanted to hear. His voice had sounded so weak and thready. God, what the hell was wrong with me that I was doing this to my sick and dying father?

I shoved the thoughts away before they could take root and ruin this for me too. Because I need this, Sawyer’s hands and mouth driving me out of my head, quieting all the tumultuous thoughts in my brain so I could just be.

I followed Sawyer into his room, and as soon as his door clicked shut, we were on each other. I’m not sure which one of us moved first, but we came together in a fever pitch of mouths and tongues and roaming hands.

Over the last few days, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, about how good it had felt to be with him, until I wondered if I’d built the experience up in my own mind, remembering the night as better than it actually was. But now that I was here with him again, with Sawyer peeling my shirt over my head, his mouth drawing on mine, I knew I hadn’t been wrong. That night had been everything I remembered and more.

Sawyer maneuvered us closer to the bed, both of us shedding all our clothes as we went before tumbling onto the mattress naked. He rolled me onto my back and covered my body with his. His hips settled between my legs, so his heavy cock pressed against mine. His fingers tangled in my hair, and his mouth hungrily devoured mine.

He rolled his hips, grinding our dicks together, the sweet friction making me moan.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned against my mouth between kisses.

His words lit me up inside like a power surge. I arched my hips, meeting his thrusts and dragging my aching erection against Sawyer’s. It felt so good, but I still wanted more.

I tilted my head, pulling my mouth away from his until my lips brushed the skin behind his ear.

“Will you fuck me tonight?” I asked. My voice scraped like a rusty hinge.

Sawyer leaned back so he could see my face. “Your ass?”

His hand drifted over the curve of my ass cheek and squeezed. A whimper escaped my lips before I could stop it, and I squirmed closer to him.

My face burned hotter, and I nodded.

“Are you sure this is something you want? Not everyone likes it, and that’s okay.”

“Have you done it?” I asked.

He nodded. “I have.”

“Did you like it?”

He grinned. “I did.”

“I’d like to try.”

“Okay.” Sawyer leaned away and reached for his nightstand, then tugged open the drawer. He pulled out condoms and lube and tossed them onto the bed next to us.

“Here’s the thing,” Sawyer said, voice serious, gaze intent and holding mine. “If at any point you don’t like it, or you want to stop or take a break, I want you to tell me. You don’t owe me anything, okay?”

“I’ll tell you,” I promised.

He eyed me for a long moment, as if he didn’t quite believe me. “I mean it,” he said. “If you’re not enjoying it, then I’m not enjoying it.”

“I’ll tell you,” I said, again.

“Okay.” He nodded, then eyed me with a frown as if he were deep in thought. “Move up higher so your head is on the pillows and open your legs.”

I did as he asked, face hot from feeling as if I was on display for him, but also ridiculously turned on by it too.

---