Nothing But This (Broken Pieces 2)

“She was hungry,” Greyson observed idly, and Libby made a lazy sound of assent. Clara’s eyelids were starting to droop, and Libby took her from the high chair to rock her slightly. It had been an exciting day filled with new sights and sounds, and that, combined with a long car ride and a full tummy, was making her sleepy.

“I should head home,” he said, sounding reluctant, and Libby found herself on the verge of protesting. It was that instinctive desire to keep him close that kept her mouth shut, and she nodded, afraid that if she spoke, she would ask him to stay.

“Do you want to tuck her in before you go?” she asked, indicating the sleeping baby.

“I’d like that,” he said quietly, getting up to take Clara from her. It was early evening, and they both knew Clara would wake again in a few hours’ time, so he tucked her into the bassinet in the living room and ran a gentle finger over her adorable little nose.

He turned to look at Libby and, with the same finger, tenderly brushed a curl out of her face and slotted it behind her ear.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She nodded. “Thank you. For today. It was wonderful.”

He didn’t say anything. His eyes searched hers for a long moment, and Libby was powerless to do anything but stare back. She couldn’t quite read the emotions in the roiling depths of those beautiful eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to tear her gaze away either.

When he made a muffled sound, something between a sigh and a groan, and shut his eyes with a shudder, she empathized. Feeling the same helplessness, desolation, and temptation that was evident in the quiet sound.

Greyson shouldn’t do it. He knew he shouldn’t. But he was going to kiss her. He was physically incapable of stepping away from her in that moment. Of dropping his hand and severing the contact between them.

The tender acceptance he had seen in her beautiful eyes didn’t do much to deter him, and with a quiet moan, he shut his eyes and closed the distance between them. He claimed her mouth in the softest, lightest of kisses. When she didn’t resist, he deepened the caress and felt a surge of satisfaction when she put her hands on his chest.

He kept the kiss gentle, exploring her mouth and taking his time, feeling like he was tasting her for the very first time.

By the time he brought his hands into play, touching, stroking, caressing, she was moaning softly into his open mouth. Her own hands had fisted in the fabric of his T-shirt, and her pelvis was rocking slowly and rhythmically against his.

It had been a relatively warm early-October spring day, and she was wearing a sweet, short slip dress with ties on the shoulders, and he fumbled with the bows for a few minutes before releasing one tie and then the other. The dress slid—without any attempt from her to stop it—all the way down to pool around her ankles. He hadn’t intended for that to happen, but when he lifted his mouth to stare down at her beautiful body, clad only in lacy black panties and a matching black bra, he said a reverent prayer of thanks.

He swallowed heavily and met her eyes.

“Olivia?” He wasn’t sure how far he could take this. Wasn’t sure how she felt about where it was going, but she hadn’t protested and did nothing to hide her body from his avid gaze.

She didn’t respond to the questioning lilt in his voice but stepped toward him and eagerly pushed his T-shirt up over his chest. He moaned, happily taking that as the acquiescence he had sought, and helped her, dragging the shirt up and over his head and tossing it aside.

He grabbed her hand and led her into the bedroom, but he found himself helplessly claiming another kiss from her before they even made it to the bed. She closed her arms around his neck and levered herself up, wrapping her firm thighs around his waist and locking her ankles behind his butt.

“Oh God,” he whispered, before voraciously eating her mouth. He laid her down on the bed, one hand flat against the small of her back to support her and the other braced on the mattress to maintain his balance. He placed a knee on the bed while keeping his other foot on the floor. He couldn’t get enough of her. He had wanted to keep this tender and reverent, but they were both too greedy. Too damned hungry for each other.

Before he knew it, he was licking his way down to her breasts, lavishing attention on each taut nipple. Her own mouth and hands weren’t idle, and she was stroking and sucking every inch of his flesh she could reach. Soon she was fumbling with his belt and then his fly, and then she had him in her grasp, and they both groaned at the contact.