Page 68 of Theirs to Hunt
I helped Grayson set it up before we left, pillows fluffed, lights turned soft, every edge blunted for her. I didn't expect her to look so tired. Or maybe it's not tired. Maybe it's…unguarded.
She sways when she toes off her shoes, and Grayson is there instantly, hand on her hip.
"Easy, little fawn," he murmurs.
She says she's not drunk. I believe her.
Wine gave her the permission to lower the barriers she usually clings to.
Grayson unzips her dress and it slips down her body, slow and quiet. I've seen beautiful women before. Hell, I've touched them.
But none of them have ever made my chest feel this, tight and wild all at once. She's not just beautiful. That's too tame. She's herself. And she's letting us see it.
Her eyes flick between us.
I can feel her hesitation, not fear exactly, but the kind of self-consciousness that comes from the depth of raw emotion we are sharing, the vulnerability.
Grayson's shirt is already gone.
I tug mine over my head too, but this isn't about sex.
Not tonight. Not yet.
I grab one of Grayson's old Navy shirts, the one I know she wore before and lift it up for her. She doesn't move at first, so I step in close and help guide her arms through. It's too big on her, swallows her whole. She looks good in it anyway.
Grayson presses kisses to her knuckles and I feel it again, that twist in my chest.
Not jealousy. Awe. This is happening. She's allowing it, allowing us.
"Bed," I say, voice quieter than I expected. And somehow rougher. Grayson's the one who gives commands. I don't usually need to. But tonight, it just feels right.
She doesn't resist. She follows. We lead her to the bed, both of us moving in sync like we've done this before.
Grayson to her left.
Me to her right.
She curls up between us and just looks at us, she still thinks she might wake up alone.
"We don't have to do anything tonight," Grayson tells her.
His voice is low. Calm. Measured. "We just want to show you what it feels to be wanted. Cared for. Together."
Her breath catches. Her thighs shift, just slightly. That's all it takes.
I slide my hand beneath the hem of the shirt, resting it on her thigh. Not pushing. Just a question.
"I want that," she whispers. "I want you both."
Something settles in me at those words. Clicks into place.
Grayson leans in first, his mouth trailing her neck.
I mirror him, pressing a kiss just beneath her ear.
She shudders. I can feel it through the mattress.
We touch her together, slow, patient, reverent.
