Page 26 of Lilies in Autumn

“Do you mean beating his ass in Mario Kart?” I question.

He smirks. “Same thing.”

Oh, wow. Okay, then.

I look toward CeCe and find her staring at the group playing flip cup, where Dante holds court in the center of the table. Her face is blank, and for once, I can’t read her emotion. Dante must feel our eyes on him because he looks up and his face splits into the goofiest grin I’ve ever seen. For being well over six feet and covered in tattoos, he looks like a boy on Christmas morning who just got the toy he’s wanted all year. He runs over to us, nearly sprinting across the yard.

“Red, you’re here. Fuck, you look good,” Dante pants, though I’m not sure if it’s from his run or proximity to CeCe.

“Stop calling me Red.” CeCe scowls and then mutters a quiet, “Thanks.” She says it so low, I’m not sure we were supposed to hear it. Unfortunately for her, Dante did hear her gratitude and responds, “Anytime, beautiful. You’re an English major, right? There are a few people I want you to meet. Come with me?” He says the last part as a question, clearly uncertain if she’ll accept his offer. After a tense silence, where Grey, Serena, and I stare between the two of them, CeCe nods her head before looking in my direction.

“If I’m not back in thirty minutes, tell my parents I’ve been kidnapped by a psycho from New Jersey.”

I roll my eyes in response. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Dante tugs on her arm, sliding his hand down until he captures her fingers with his own. His move is possessive, and I see quite a few pairs of eyes on them, mainly of the female variety, and none look happy. He tugs her hand, giving her no choice but to follow him toward the patio where a group has gathered.

“I see Dyl over there.” Serena points to the table Dante came from, where six guys continue playing flip cup. “I’m going to go talk to him. I’ll see you in a bit.” Serena strides over confidently, approaching a tall guy in the center of the group. He wraps his arms around her, holding her to his chest while his head dips down to kiss her head. I look at Grey, who’s been silent since Dante approached. His eyes are on me.

“Well,” I begin, “this has been an eventful ten minutes. It seems I’ve been abandoned.”

Grey smirks. “Vixen, I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere.” He brings his bottle of beer to his lips, taking a deep pull, all the while his eyes remain on me. His eyes darken, desire swimming through the blue depths. His tongue runs along his bottom lip, licking up droplets from his beer, and I imagine his tongue on me, in me. I’ve never had anyone lick me before, and truthfully, I’ve never really thought I’d want someone to lick my body; it would give them uncensored access to every dip and crevice and mark on my skin. But something about Grey is different. His attraction to me is tangible, a heavy fog that descends when he’s next to me. Though I don’t know him well, and I still doubt his motives, I can’t deny that he’s interested in me physically. I felt his dick harden when I sat on his lap at the party, and the comments he’s made have been charged with so much sexual frustration. I feel my nipples harden against my thin bra, and I inwardly groan, almost positive that Grey can see the evidence of my own attraction. I move my gaze from his mouth back to his eyes; that need is still there, even more prominent if that’s possible.

He wraps his hand around my hard seltzer, removing it from my grasp, and places it, along with his beer, on a table close by.

“You looking at me like that is dangerous, vixen.”

“How am I looking at you?” Heat swarms my face and I look away. I’m almost positive that I’m as red as CeCe’s hair right now.

Hands ghost over my waist, trailing upward until his hands capture my neck and tilt my head back. He leans forward, grazing his lips over the shell of my ear before whispering, “Like you want me to worship you on my knees.” I suck in a breath; his pine and leather cologne fills my lungs as a throbbing between my legs consumes my focus. His teeth clamp down on my earlobe, stinging before he soothes me with gentle flicks of his tongue.

“I-I—what are you doing?” I stutter, closing my eyes as he continues playing with my ear. He sucks me into his mouth, nibbling on me like I’m a treat he can’t wait to eat.

“Come with me,” he whispers into my ear, lifting his head to look me in the eyes. I feel like the only answer is “yes.”

—

It’s not lost on me that this is my second interaction with Grey and the second time he’s successfully gotten me alone. If I were in a horror movie, there’s no doubt I would be the first one dead—or the girl that runs into the attic when the killer is in the basement.

I follow Grey into the house, where we bypass the hellos that assault him as we make our way inside. I take in the kitchen again, sighing in appreciation as I trail my hand over the counter when we cut through it. “This kitchen is stunning,” I tell him. Because three college guys should not have this kitchen in their home, even if Lincoln seems to know his way around food. It’s like an oxymoron; it just shouldn’t be a thing.

“You can use it anytime you’d like. Lincoln is the only one that uses it and he’s territorial,” he offers. “Something tells me that he wouldn’t mind sharing the space with you, though. He sent us a text about your pastries. Told us they were fucking delicious.”

I blush, absorbing his offer and his compliment. “Thank you, Grey.” His eyes narrow at my use of his shortened name, and he increases our pace, leading me down a wide hallway off the kitchen. He opens the door at the end of the hallway, pulls me inside, and closes the door behind me.

“Is this your—” I’m cut off when his hands push me against the door, his arms on either side of my head, caging me in.

“Vixen, I need to taste that sweet mouth. It’s all I can fucking think about.” I swallow, my audible gulp lost in the heavy breaths coming from Grey’s mouth.

He shifts his face forward, his lips inches from mine. His breath smells tart from the beer and minty, a mixture that shouldn’t be potent but is. I look from his eyes to his lips, unsure where my attention should rest. His arms flex beside my head, hinting at the control he’s exerting at this moment. He’s not touching me, but I feel him everywhere.

“Tell me, vixen.” He’s so close that, when he speaks, I feel his lips move against mine. Teasing me before he retreats, waiting for me to tell him something, but I’m not entirely sure what. He reads the confusion in my gaze. “Tell me I can kiss you. Tell me I can touch you,” he growls, sending shivers down my spine. “Say, ‘Yes, Grey.’”

“Yes, Grey,” I respond. There’s no hesitation. I need him as much as I want him; my body feels like an inferno that only he can extinguish.

“Good fucking girl,” he rasps before launching himself at me. His lips take mine in a desperate kiss like I’m water and he’s a man parched. His lips are firm and confident as they mold against mine before coaxing my lips open to massage my tongue. I gasp, and he takes advantage of the widening of my mouth, licking his tongue in and possessing me with this kiss. I submit to him fully, letting him lead me wherever he wants to go, like I’m a disciple and he’s my God. His teeth pull on my bottom lip, nipping me and making me moan from the erotic mix of pleasure and pain. He sucks on the bite, lathering it with attention before diving back into my mouth.

His hands move from the door, one to the back of my head and the other to my waist. He starts to pull back, but I follow his lips, refusing to let his mouth go. He nips my bottom lip and pulls my hair, forcing me to break the kiss and look into his eyes. The hand at my waist flexes, pulling my body into his. He’s hard everywhere, from the muscles of his arms to the fingers biting at my waist. He presses his hips forward, and my breath hitches at the hardness pressing against my stomach.

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