Page 40 of Scoring Grey

“I bottomed out hard, again and again, your thighs digging into the edge of the desk with each thrust biting into your skin hard enough to leave marks, and when the desk finally relented and moved from the force… you whimpered. I paused, and what did you say?” he trails off with a pant.

My eyes lock onto his as I vividly recall the scene. “I said, don’t you dare stop.”

“And then what, Eloise? Don’t tell me you don’t remember. Don’t tell me the last time we were together isn’t scarred into your memory the same way it is mine.”

I pause, chest heaving as his words hit me hard. Of course I remember our last time. I remember every time we were together, but pairing what happened next with the marks he has now is something my brain is struggling to process. My hunger for him never faded; it didn’t matter how much I tried to forget. I couldn’t, and apparently, neither could he.

“I reached back and dug my nails into your flesh.” It wasn’t a new move for me. I liked touching him when we had sex. It made me feel connected on a deeper level, but that time was different. Did I love how rough he was with me? Hell yes. One of my favorite things to do was rile him up so he’d go hard. I felt powerful every time I was the reason he lost control and took exactly what he needed from me. I could bring him to his knees and watch him fall apart. But this time, I was going for more. I wanted to mark him the same way he was me. My nails bit into his skin, and he hissed, holding in deep. I lick my lips and repeat the words I gave him then. “It’s only fair if you mark me as yours, I get to mark you as mine.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “That’s right,” he says. “Eloise, I need you to do something for me.” Using my full name, not the nickname he gave me, garners my attention, and I slow my movements. “Add another finger inside of that pretty pussy for me, baby.”

“It feels good like this,” I say, slowly pushing in and seductively bucking my hips against my palm.

“I know. I can hear how good it feels. But I need you to add that third one. Three means you’re going to let me come home. Maybe not tonight, tomorrow, or even the day after that, but eventually. Three means you’re going to let it be me stretching you, filling you, and claiming you as mine.”

I pause, my eyes searing into his, branding this moment onto his heart for eternity as the weight of his ask hangs between us until I add the third digit. I whimper at the new tight fit, his words wrapping around me, speaking directly to my heart, whispering all the things I hope to gain, and he groans loudly, his breathing labored as he strokes himself harder. The addition of my finger fills us both while lowering our guards and exposing our vulnerabilities. We’re not here for platonic. We’re here for everything. Mind, soul, spirit, a bond without limits, and this feels like the first step toward achieving it. The thought has my legs going rigid as my insides clench hard. “Fuck yeah, blondie. Come all over my sheets,” he pants before his own labored breaths turn to grunts as he falls over the edge with me.

I pump myself slowly through the aftershocks of my orgasm. My forehead is damp, my heart is racing, and I don’t care if I ever open my eyes again tonight. I needed that. We needed that. I don’t know how long I lie there unmoving, in a fog I didn’t care to find my way out of because in it I was lost, we were lost, and the world fell away once more, but as with all good things, their lifespan is short-lived.

Rustling on the other end of the phone has me peeling my eyes open to find that Cal has moved the phone. I do the same and settle into my sleeping position. Returning to my side, I prop the phone up on a pillow like his, and we’re quiet for long moments. His use of no words tells me that while what we just shared may have only been phone sex, it was every bit as monumental for him as it was for me. Most of the time, the moments we don’t plan for take our breath away. They make life worth living for, filling our cups until the next one happens, but that’s not to say we can’t influence the frequency of those fleeting moments. I believe we can by finding our person. Finding the right person to walk through this thing called life with automatically increases your daily odds of finding happiness in the unplanned and mundane. That was me and Cal; when it was just us, my cup was always filled. Everything was always lighter with him because he is my home.

Today, there was a shift, and I know things will be different when he gets home tomorrow. At some point, our long silence stretched into sleep, but before I fell into a deep slumber, I’m sure I heard him whisper, “You’re mine, Eloise Grey, I’m going to marry you, and you’re going to love me. You’ll love me the way I’ve always loved you.”

13

CALLUM

I’m still reeling over the mindfuck I experienced yesterday. Eloise showing up to my practice was unforeseen. I’ve been subtle but clear that I’d like Eloise to attend my home games. Whenever I walk out the door for a game, I ensure my VIP badge is on the table, but night after night, she’s been a no-show. When she told me her hesitation stemmed from wanting to keep a low profile, I knew she wasn’t exactly lying, but she wasn’t giving me the whole truth either. However, I wasn’t going to push her. Instead, I listened, collecting another half-truth. I know being here with me was wearing on her, and all the half-truths she’s been laying at my feet would eventually become whole, but I was blindsided at the rink. I had no idea the last game she attended was also the same night she found out she was pregnant with Adler.

Reliving that day with her was an emotional rollercoaster, to say the least, but I was glad for it. Seeing her show up at the rink meant the world to me, but that kiss… My God, the kiss was everything. A small piece of me wondered if I had put her on a pedestal for so long that the real deal could never live up to the version of her I romanticized. The tendril of doubt that lurked was annihilated when her mouth connected with mine. Our kiss was better than any we’ve ever shared. I couldn’t get enough. I thought I was hooked before, but after that kiss, I knew it was more than that. I’m addicted.

“That will be sixty-two dollars even,” the call-a-ride driver says, pulling me out of my thoughts as he parks in front of the roundabout of my building.

“I paid through the app and left a tip,” I tell him as I grab my suitcase.

He checks his phone for confirmation and I exit the car. I don’t care if he double-bills or flags me in the system. I’m six floors away from seeing my girl.

“Have a good day,” he says as the door closes and I double my stride.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Balfour,” Jenkins says, opening the door.

“I told you, it’s Cal. No need for formalities,” I call out over my shoulder, not bothering to stop as I hurry to the elevator, where I see a resident exiting. “Hold the door.” I rush over and barge my way in, not wanting to waste more time than I already have getting home. Eloise was going to pick me up from the airport, but after our flight was delayed for the second time leaving Buffalo, I told her I’d make arrangements.

The elevator dings, and I’m out before the doors can fully open, sprinting to the end, my fingers flying over the keypad. I’m so anxious to get inside I practically stumble through the door, drunk on missing her.

I drop my suitcase and make a ruckus coming in, and she turns from her spot at the easel, eyes wide.

“Are you okay?” she asks as she stands.

I thought I’d run straight to her. It’s what I envisioned doing since the moment I woke up this morning, but I don’t. Instead, I bolt down the hallway like a pre-teen in a hurry to read the smutty magazine he stole from the gas station and hid under his bed. I can’t help it. The second I’m a foot away from the bed, I throw my arms wide and jump, only to inhale deeply once my head hits the sheets.

Last night meant something to me. Eloise let me in. She moved the needle, I laid my truths about Blair being back at her feet, and I gave her my side of the night that ended our story. She knows everything and not only did she stay, she gave me pieces of her that she’s admitted scare her. Relationships are built on trust, and she’s trusting me.

“What are you doing?” she asks with a small laugh.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m sniffing the sheets.”

“I can see that. I’m just surprised that was your first choice.”

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