Grinder (Seattle Sharks 1)

“Fuck, Bailey,” he groaned, which only made me slicker between my thighs.

I moaned with him inside my mouth, alternating between sucking and lightly grazing him with my teeth until he writhed beneath me, his hips bucking slightly. He gripped a handful of my hair, gently yanking my head upward to meet his eyes. They were on fire, and I reveled at the site, knowing I could do this to him, knowing he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

He shifted on the bed, pulling to move above me, but I stopped him.

“Not tonight,” I said, looking down at him through hooded eyes.

I pushed him back on the bed, slowly crawling upward until my wet center hovered over the tip of his stiff shaft. I stopped there, the moment pulsing and tension-filled, and I couldn’t help but have a lapse in thought—thinking we needed to grab a condom. The sharp pain nearly yanked me out of the moment, reminding me why this started, why I needed this with him tonight—but Gage gripped my hips and I shoved every other thought away. I focused only on the sensations soaring in my blood and across my skin. The heat that Gage created, the sounds that came from his mouth, the ache in my core, all fueled the moment like a tidal wave, and I let myself be swept away.

“You want me?” I asked, gripping him and using his tip to show him how wet I was for him, sliding him along my entrance.

“You fucking know I do.” His eyes were wild with it.

“Right now?” I guided him inside of me just an inch before pulling him back out.

He hissed, his fingers digging into the skin over my hips, and I enjoyed the slight bite of pain. “Now. Later. Always.”

My heart came alive at his words, playing out a gloriously beautiful future in my mind—one with Gage, in every way I could have him—except one.

I sank down on top of him, taking his cock in one fast motion. His gasp matched mine as I slowly rode him. I rolled my hips back and forth, grinding on top of him as his hands explored my breasts.

“You’re so fucking perfect, Bailey.” Gage cupped my ass I as switched gears and rose up and down, slowly pulling him out before drawing him in again. “I love you.”

Tears bit the backs of my eyes and I slammed down on top of him harder, putting all the anger, hurt, and love I had for the man into my ride. He met me, picking up the pace as quickly as I laid it out. My match, the one person who’d continuously challenged me, kept up with me and surprised me.

My very best friend.

“Fuck me, Gage,” I said, breathless. I didn’t want him to make love to me tonight. I wanted to work out the ache that had plagued me for two weeks—both in my heart and between my thighs.

He clutched my hips and took control, forcing me down as he plunged upward, hitting my G-spot at the perfect angle. I dug my nails into his broad chest, scratching the hard muscles as he used one hand to stroke my clit, all while driving upward again and again. I rocked against his hand and sank down on each of his thrusts.

“Like this?” He asked, but it was more of a growl as he pressed his fingers against my clit with more pressure.

“Harder,” I demanded. “Gage, please.” I practically begged as he kept me on the edge of the orgasm building inside of me.

He drove upward, another strong thrust that had just enough bite in it to match the primal ache that had coiled every single one of my muscles. His fingers worked circles around my clit as he hit that perfect spot, and I screamed out his name as I came around him.

“Fuck, Bailey!” He groaned, pumping harder as I clenched around him.

“Yes. Fuck, yes,” I moaned as I felt him come inside me, his cock tightening against my walls, filling me more than seconds before as he thrust through his release. I sighed, my heart racing as I slowed down, trembling as I collapsed on top of his chest.

My skin hummed as he held me to him, stroking my spine and fingering the long strands of my hair. This was perfection.

Gage knew exactly what I needed, when I needed it, and could more than deliver. It made my heart hurt even more as I came down from the exceptional high he’d taken me to. Because I loved him this much, because we were this good together, and yet, we couldn’t make it work. We couldn’t regain that common ground we’d once had because he wouldn’t entertain my dream, as I always had his. I loved him enough to contemplate giving up ever growing a baby inside me, but he clearly didn’t love me as much if he couldn’t even think about giving me the chance. It was an impasse, one that put a wall between our hearts, despite the passion that still rocked our bodies.

After cleaning us up, he spooned me silently. Maybe he didn’t have the words, or maybe he didn’t realize that this was my goodbye—the only goodbye that made sense when it came to us.

I was on the plane before he woke up the next morning, shifting uncomfortably in the small seat, the soreness between my thighs not unpleasant but serving as a reminder of how much it hurt to leave Gage.

Glancing down, I shifted the stack of papers that Lettie had handed me after I’d made her a quick breakfast. They were stapled together.

“A picture for every day since Thanksgiving,” she’d said, not a tear shed—not from my warrior princess.

They were stunning paintings she’d done herself—some images recognizable like a butterfly, or dragon—but her abstracts were the most beautiful, the most impactful.

She already has so much of you inside her. A voice whispered in my head, taunting me with the notion that Lettie really could’ve been mine if I hadn’t left.

I sucked in a sharp breath, holding the hand-made book to my chest. I’d told her I’d be back, that I loved her, that she was the most amazing little girl I’d ever met. And she knew it. The love I had for her wasn’t a question in her mind, which made my leaving different from Helen’s. And I kept reminding myself of that every single time my stomach lurched at the thought of Lettie waking up to a new nanny.

“Something to drink, Miss?” A sweet flight attendant pulled me out of my twisting thoughts.

“Alcohol. I don’t care what. Just keep the drinks coming, please.” I leaned my head back as she nodded and handed me a tiny glass of red wine. I sipped it, enjoying the warmth as it slid down my throat.

Looking out the window, an endless blue sky stretching out before me, I wondered what this new life would be like and how it would hold a candle to the few blissful months I’d had where Gage was mine, and the dream of family had been close enough to touch.