Nothing But This (Broken Pieces 2)

“Condom?” she asked tautly, and he made a rough sound of assent, begrudgingly leaving the wondrous hills and curves of her body to kick off his jeans and search for his wallet. When he found a condom, they both hastily fumbled to get it on, and once they succeeded, he tugged her panties off and clambered between her spread thighs.

He sank into her without further delay, having the presence of mind to slow things down enough to make it a gradual entrance, rather than slamming into her without any finesse.

They both sighed contentedly at the contact, and Greyson could only describe it as a sense of homecoming. He was back where he belonged.

After he was fully sheathed, they took a moment to appreciate the tight, perfect fit of their joining, and then he began to move, long, slow strokes. Each one punctuated by a soft, helpless moan dragged from his mouth.

His lips stayed on hers, and his tongue mimicked the lazy thrusts of his body in hers, while his hands were fisted in her long, soft hair. Her hands were on his ass, fingers clenched in the taut flesh as she tried to pull him closer. Urging him, without words, to move faster.

He eventually complied, plunging into her with a wildness that he found hard to temper. When she dragged her mouth away from his and whispered his name, he lost all semblance of control. His hands went to her hips as he reared up and slammed into her.

He was vaguely aware of the wild, keening cry coming from her as she orgasmed. The tight convulsions of her sheath brought on his own climax, and when he came, he cried out her name.

The strength seemed to seep out of Greyson with his climax, and he slowly sank down onto her sweaty, breathless body. He angled himself so that only his head was resting on her chest, between her breasts. And Libby knew he had to be hearing the thundering beat of her heart. She couldn’t remember ever having an orgasm that powerful before. Her body was limp, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to move again.

The entire experience had been transcendent and so much more emotional than the sex they had had before. Greyson’s face was hidden against her chest, and his body was shuddering with what felt like sobs. He was muttering something against her skin, but she couldn’t quite hear him over the beat of her heart and her heavy breathing. One of her hands was soothingly stroking his hair, and she made a concerted effort to control her breathing so that she could hear what he was saying.

“. . . love you. I love you. I love you so much.” It was soft but unmistakable. He was repeating the same phrases over and over again. Libby listened, her hand stilling in his hair, not quite sure if she believed it or if he was aware that he was saying them. Eventually his words started to slur, his head grew heavier, and he was asleep moments later. Leaving Libby even more uncertain about what her next move should be.

They made love twice more before Clara woke up, but Greyson never repeated the phrase. They didn’t speak about what the intimacy meant for their relationship, if it changed anything or where they would go from here. They just enjoyed each other’s bodies, and after Libby fed Clara, Greyson kissed them both and went home.

It was confusing, and Libby hated not knowing what came next. She was terrified of getting hurt again. He had said he loved her, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Or even if she believed it.

She barely slept that night, and by the following morning she had made an important decision. After the staff meeting she went straight to Tina’s office. Her friend had been very quiet and withdrawn over the last month. She had confided in Libby that she wasn’t happy with Harris’s decision to call things off between them. It was clear that the woman was pining for Harris, and judging from Harris’s messages, he missed Tina too. The two were obviously in love, and Libby wished she could help them both recognize how right they were for each other.

But sometimes, the past loomed too large to be overlooked. She knew that better than anybody else.

“What’s up, Libby? You okay?” Tina asked, her concerned eyes giving Libby a once-over.

“I’m hoping you could give me a week or so off. I’ll prep Agnes and the rest of the kitchen staff to handle things in my absence.” She knew she was being a coward, running away at a time when she should stay and try to figure out, for all their sakes, what the hell was happening between her and Greyson, but she was so damned exhausted. She just wanted to switch her brain off for a while and not think about it.