I bounce up and down, our skin smacking, my nails digging into his chest, my tits aching from how brutal my slams are. Grant punches the edges of the couch with his fists, and I know he’s close. This man, though… he still finds a way to empower me.
“That’s it,” he grunts, choppy and battered. “Fuck the anger out. Fuck me. Fuck—” He falls apart. Right here, I feel him unraveling inside me as he jerks under my body.
“Oh, Grant.” His name is amazing on my lips. Too good. The anger flows off my body, as need, desperation, and love course under my skin. My pussy clenches so tight I think the groan he makes is from a tweak of pain. I’m hardly able to slide up and down as my orgasm pulsates through my walls. I tremble, bowing at the waist, pressing my forehead to his chest as I muffle a scream on his skin.
After this release, I am boneless. I’m fully slumped against his frame, huffing louder than he is. My arm dangles off the edge of the couch, and I can’t even keep my eyes open. The anger from earlier is far removed. There’s no sting festering underneath my ribs, but there’s also nothing else either.
I can’t feel anything in best way possible, and my eyes are struggling to stay open. A spark of life hits my senses as Grant plants a kiss on my head and strokes my hair that’s now an unraveled mess of waves.
Did I mention how much I love this man? Who else would encourage a fucking session like this?
A minuscule smile creeps over my lips, and I somehow plant a weak, yet reverent kiss on his chest. “Thank you, love,” I murmur, and it sounds like it’s coming from a drunkard. “Thank you so much.”
“Anything for you, darling. Outside of this included. Rational or irrational. Right, wrong … anything for you.” His arms wrap tightly around me, and he sighs.
He holds me there, keeping me inside him, gliding his fingers up and down my back until I fall asleep.
I'm unsure of how time much passes, but when I do stir again, I’m being placed in bed. My eyes won’t open. Not even as fresh lemon engulfs me. The pad of his thumb brushes my cheek, and I hear his words again.
“Anything for you.”
There's a gentle kiss on my head, and then Grant vanishes.
* * *
“Damn it.” I pace around the island counter, tempted to throw every clock and calendar out the window. It's only been a day and a half without Brexton, and I want to go crazy. Sure, he's been available. Any doubts I had of his faithfulness have withered completely. I don't think he's gone longer than fifteen minutes when I've sent out a text, and our phone call last night was so sweet.
I’ve tried not to bombard him, just a brief check-in a few times, but shit. It’s taken all my strength not to blow up his phone.
Putting it gently, it’s been rough around here.
Sleep has abandoned me since he left. Not even naps are possible. Food tastes like crap, and my appetite is in the gutter. The only things I’ve enjoyed are a few dousing hot showers and some TV. My remaining time has been spent pacing. I’m desperate to go out, see Kitty, have some tea, invite Roxie over, but I can’t.
All I want is Lonnie dead, and if my hands weren't tied and if I didn’t think Grant would go ballistic, I’d track Lonnie down myself and finish this senseless waiting.
An hour passes, and I get a text from Grant.
Please forward me the email from Mr. Weber ASAP. Thanks.
“Simple enough.” Actually, nice too. Although it won’t take long, it will be something to take my mind off being a lame duck.
I open the computer sitting on the dining table and log into my work email.
Bam!
Critical battery flashes on the screen, and the picture goes black.
Wonderful. I'll need my charger. Not a big deal until I can't find it. I hunt with no such luck. At last, I conclude I've left the charger in Grant's SUV. A habit I'm known for, unfortunately, because it happens at the most inconvenient times. Today is no exception. The walk to the parking garage is long, and it’s the last thing I want to do. Not that I have a choice. Brexton needs that email.
I hate it, but I slip on decent clothing and prepare to go to the bottom floor.
I've completed my second elevator ride down—the one after the private penthouse ride to the lobby. The doors slide open, and a brisk chill makes itself known. Thankfully, I'll only be out here a moment because it's colder than usual today.
I find the black SUV in the private parking section and hit the unlock button on the remote. Opening the back door, I duck my head down and see the thick black cord sticking out. I reach out my hand, then—
“Hello, little doll.”
I freeze at the hoarse voice. Lonnie. Then my blood runs cold when something sharp digs into my spine. The weighted sickness in my stomach grows when he continues.
“So, let’s find out. Are you glass or flesh?”