But he also wanted her attention when he thrust home, inside the only place he belonged. “Look at me,” he said, barely recognizing his desire-roughened tone.
Her violet eyes met his as he inched into her body, slowly filling her up as completely as she did his heart. In her gaze, he saw acceptance of them, and everything he hoped for.
No longer could he hold back. One fast jerk of his hips and he joined them completely, and not just where their bodies connected. Her breasts slid against his chest, her nipples rasping against him. She wrapped her arms around his back, and he felt the beat of her heart, pounding solidly against his chest. He no longer needed to look into her eyes to know they were bound in every possible way. He wasn’t letting her go and prayed outside forces wouldn’t work against them or rip them apart.
Then he stopped thinking, because his hips shifted and he saw stars. He moved, rubbing against her clit, and she gasped at the sensation.
“I promised you more, remember?” he asked, not letting up on the pressure until he rocked her into another orgasm, her moans and sighs bringing him almost to the edge.
Once the quakes of her body subsided, he pulled out. His cock was aching and hard, but he wanted one more climax out of her. Wanted to take her places nobody else ever had or would again.
“What are you doing?” she asked, almost limp beneath him.
“Want you on top.” He eased her up, slid beneath her, and settled her astride him, his rigid erection easily sliding back into her.
“I can’t. Not again,” she said, but her actions belied her words, and she began to ride him, her body taking over any purported exhaustion.
“Oh God!” Her eyes opened wide as he obviously hit her sweet spot, and damned if he didn’t light up from within too.
“Harder, Grey!”
Fuck. His entire body was already rigid, his balls drawing up tight. He was so damn close already. His hips involuntarily jerked up and she screamed.
“Oh shit, I’m coming again,” she cried, her words a moan as she bucked against him, sucking his cock in deep, her slick walls contracting around him. “Grey!”
He let go then, his climax lost in the sexy, beautiful sounds of her release. He spilled everything he had and everything he was inside her, until she collapsed, her limp body draping over his.
* * *
A week into their new status quo, Avery couldn’t believe how seamlessly her life meshed with Grey’s. She liked the right side of the bed, he already slept on the left. She was a grump without coffee in the morning, he owned a machine with a timer that he was used to presetting the night before. And in realizing he had a huge sexual appetite, she discovered an untapped part of herself that felt the same way.
In past relationships, she didn’t normally spend the night or let a guy stay over. She wasn’t a cuddler, and she didn’t like awkward mornings after. And since she hadn’t been all that into sex with the bland guys she’d deliberately chosen after Grey, wrapping it up quickly had been easy. She knew, thanks to her previous times with Grey, that he’d exceeded every experience she’d ever had … or would ever have. What she didn’t know was that once they lived together, she would come to crave him so badly.
Morning sex? A necessity. Before bed? Hell yes. More than once, if he had any say. Cuddling became mandatory. Quickies during the day? Check and check. In fact, with Grey a work-from-home guy and her a work-from-home girl, she was pretty sure she’d turn into a nymphomaniac if they kept things up.
Sex aside, their days meshed too. In the early morning, he exercised at the gym in his condo, and Avery worked on either a written blog or video. One day Rick drove her to the hospital to volunteer with the kids.
As far as the taping, she didn’t want her viewers to know anything was different, so Grey went to her place and picked up the poster that was always her backdrop for her video blogs and hung it up on an empty wall in the guest room. Earlier in the week, Olivia had come over and helped her set up the guest room so she could do videos surrounded by her makeup and accessories. Somehow she was able to make it work. Afternoons, Avery made them lunch like she would do for herself at home, and dinners were a mix of ordering in, one of them cooking, or going out.
The paparazzi, after circling her at the apartment, had seemingly disappeared. No more mentions on blogs or newspapers, and Grey had his legal counsel on notice just in case something happened again. Granted, it had only been a few days, but Avery appreciated the lack of attention, not just on her but on them. They were able to focus on themselves, and while they were wary and careful, there were no huge incidents to hit Avery’s anxiety or cause her concern for the future.
He liked to work on his music or meet with the contractor for the apartment next door in the afternoons, and that’s when Avery dragged Rick around town to get sponsors for the prom she had planned. Life went on, and work didn’t suffer.
And when she and Grey wanted to go out for a meal, they would duck out of his parking garage, alternating between her BMW and Rick’s unobtrusive black sedan, so they could go somewhere for lunch or dinner unnoticed. They drove an hour beyond Miami and found fun places where they could walk the beach and be alone. She wondered if it was possible that, with time, the curiosity about Grey and the other band members would disappear completely. While reminding herself that a week hardly set a precedent, she’d begun to feel more than a sliver of hope.
Hope was a dangerous thing, but she couldn’t contain hers, not when she was experiencing a level of happiness as an adult that she’d always thought was beyond her. And she wanted to hold on to it for all she was worth.
A few days later, Lola called early one morning, asking Avery if she’d like to meet for lunch. Avery had woken up with a migraine headache and wasn’t up to driving, but she was curious about what Lola wanted, so she had invited her over instead.
She hadn’t seen the other woman since the awkward night at Lola and Rep’s house, and Grey hadn’t mentioned her. He was at a meeting with Chloe Mandrake, lead singer of the punk rock band Night Madness, about Grey writing a song and collaborating for their next album.
When Avery had asked him about whether or not he needed a manager, he’d said he’d rather use his lawyer to deal with contracts if things reached that point. Meanwhile, he seemed excited about the opportunity, and to her surprise, Avery was too. She didn’t want to hold him back in his career, and she didn’t want him to feel like he couldn’t move forward because of her anxiety or fears. She wanted to believe in them, and she was trying as promised.
Which didn’t mean she wasn’t intimidated by the fact Grey was hanging out with the punk rock princess who was definitely sexy and hot with her tattoos, heavy makeup, and curvy body. She was. And she knew Chloe lived in L.A., and she’d be foolish not to think Grey would need to travel sometimes in order to work with her and the band. But he came home to her at night. And she was trying.
Lola arrived, dressed in a short, short miniskirt, bright red ankle-high cowboy-style boots, and a cropped top over a bandeau. And Avery reminded herself once again, Grey came home to her. And she was trying.
“I really appreciate you letting me come over,” the other woman said.