“Olivia.” The way he utters my name is so dry, and the lust in it scares me. “Tell me what’s stopping you.”
“So much.” My head tips back and a choked cackle spills out of my throat, all my sanity shattering with it. I’m so stupidly, and horrifically tired. My voice is raw from an overload of tension.
“I’ll understand if you tell me,” he says with an edging force.
“No!” I force out the idea that he will, because I can’t take that. I want to fall into him so badly, I can already taste his peppermint on my mouth, and I can’t do that. “No, you won’t. There’s no way—” I gasp, losing my breath as Brexton moves swiftly and stands right in front of me.
His hand grips around the side of my neck, and he places his thumb on my chin. It forces my head to tip farther back to look at him, and my pulse starts to race under his touch. I’m so fucking screwed—so done. My body is already leaning toward his large frame.
Keeping me in place, Brexton lowers his head, his sensuous mouth floating inches away from mine. I swear he groans as his thumb smooths over my skin, and my eyes want to roll into the back of my skull from how amazing he feels, but he doesn’t allow it; he commands my gaze to his.
“Tell me, Olivia.” He widens his stance, his thighs brushing against me.
“I don’t know where to start,” I whimper, losing my breath again to his touch.
Somehow, he lowers his head that much more, and he’s so close that his exhales become my inhales. “Start by telling me what you want the most.”
Halfway in his hold, the answer is so obvious—so dead center that in my mind I can’t even think about anything else. All I want is to not remember how shitty my past is, along with finally having a taste of Brexton.
Gentle claws reach around my heart, right before plucking out the truth and spilling it at Grant’s feet. “I-I want to forget.”
A darkness—a hungry, instant night hoods over his eyes. “How badly?”
“Right now…?” I gently trace my tongue over my trembling mouth as his undeterred gaze burns me. “Only for a moment.”
His grip tightens, voice lowering. “Moment granted.”
Warm lips press down on mine, and all the dryness evaporates, along with the prohibiting fears in my head. For a moment, as his mouth moves along mine, all I sense is Grant. Just him. With his faint peppermint breath and strong grip. He snakes into my darkness, hugging around what swirls inside me, bringing me his own kind of light momentarily.
I step closer to him, pressing my breasts into his chest. He wraps an arm around my waist, bringing us impossibly close—until the beats of his heart thud against my body. My fingers grip onto his shirt, his natural heat melting into my palm, as his tongue traces the seam of my lips.
A mewl breaks from my throat, the sound getting swallowed up by his kiss. Fuck, he feels so alive, large, warm. But he doesn’t last long. Seconds later, after all the oxygen in my lungs has been siphoned out, he pulls away, leaving me panting.
“Is that long enough of a moment for you?”
It’s not. Already some of the nightmares are seeping into the outer edges of my thoughts, and I want them silenced.
“I—”
“Because it’s sure as hell isn’t enough for me.”
“One more time,” I whisper.
“Fuck,” he groans, right before crashing his mouth back to mine again.
The hounding thoughts ebb, shrinking away until I can’t think about them even if I want to.
And that’s because I’m consumed, all because of Grant.
Unquenchable appetite seeps out of his skin, pulling me under even more. It’s in the way he twirls me around and pins my back to the bar. I feel it grow as his fingers bite into the meat of my hips, and when his teeth nip at my lips, making them swell underneath his kiss, his chest catching with the need for air.
But damn if I let him come up for even the tiniest gulp of it.
My hands latch around his neck and pull him in deeper. My hips buck against him, right along his growing cock, and holy shit, it feels amazing. Both of my knees semi-buckle, and I slink down his frame, drained of my strength.
When his cock twitches against my stomach, he finally breaks the kiss, and we’re both panting.
“Beautiful enigma,” Grant mutters, dropping his head to my neck. He plants a heavy hand on the top of my head, and forces it to angle back, exposing my neck. “I need more.”
Warm breath coasts and wraps around my skin, raising a flare of excitement, and I whisper his name.
“Fuck. Just listen to you,” he mutters. “Do you understand what’s happening here, Olivia?” His deep voice sings. “Two kisses, and I already feel it. This isn’t going to be enough. You make me feel things I haven’t thought possible again. More than that, you make me a greedy son-of-a-bitch, and I’m going to need all of you.”
All of me. My closed eyes, that I didn’t even realize were shut until now, fly open. The lustful ache settling between my thighs, morphs into panic, twisting up and down my entire body until I feel my nails clawing at Brexton’s shirt.
Lonnie has crept between our entangled bodies, breaking up the intimacy I feel—felt. Little doll. Little doll. The words blare in the deepest part of my ear drums.
“Brext—” The panic is clogging up my throat now.
“Fuck, I should hate this. Ever since that day with Mr. Loper, I knew you’d be a problem.” Grant’s warm breath skims down my flesh, breaking my thoughts. “You make me want to be sweet. Make me want to become distracted, and I should despise that. But right now, I don’t even care.”
The utterance of distraction strikes at the growing panic inside my head. My pulse jumps to an uneven frenzy, pounding so hard behind my ribs, I think a rib will crack. He whispers my name, and my fingers clutch into the fabric of his shirt, so tight they feel numb, right before I push him away.
“Stop!”
His eyes open wide, shock evident in his carved features. A brief examination sends his head cocking to the side. “What is it?” He trails his fingers down the length of my arm, coasting along my skin.
His question hits deeper than it should. Like he understands the depths to which my brain is haunted, and his touch feels perfect—he feels a murder waiting to happen.
I shake my head, my lower lip trembling, skirting away. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
His lips part, but my legs are already bolting, carrying me to the door faster than I can comprehend.
“Olivia, wait.” I hear what sounds like hurt and rejection mingling through his voice as he calls out.
The last thing I hear is a murmured and breathless fuck and endless frustration.