And I’m motherfucking fine with that.
So damn fine with it.
I push open the door, find my guy on the other side, and kick it closed behind me. Grant rises from the couch, heads straight to me, and grabs my face. The rookie claims my mouth in a searing, passionate kiss that makes every stairwell encounter in the world worth it.
I see stars.
My whole body hums with pleasure as the universe goes out of focus. As need grips me.
From this sweet, desperate ache of a kiss.
I want to drown in his kisses.
I want to be smothered in them.
Want his mouth on me everywhere, unraveling me, taking me apart.
Like he’s doing to me right now.
But first, I’ll do all that to him.
When he breaks the kiss, he whispers hotly, “It’s just you and me now, Deck.”
“Me and you, rookie,” I say, and nothing beyond those doors matters for the next several hours.
He is mine.
31
Grant
I am determined to kiss him senseless. To give him pleasure.
I want Declan to feel incredible, and that’s how I kiss him. With everything I have. And with every sweep of my lips across his, he trembles.
I kiss his mouth, his chin, his jaw. Each time, he shudders under my touch.
It’s heady—his reaction to me. It’s addictive and I need another hit.
Sucking on his lower lip, I draw out a wild moan from the man I want. His hands race up and down my chest, over my shoulders, into my hair. I push him against the wall, slam my crotch to his, grind against him. My hands dive into his hair and I kiss him recklessly.
Deeply.
I can’t get enough of him, his taste, his scent, him. His groans turn to whimpers as I devour his lips, just like I want to devour his body. The need to touch him everywhere, kiss him all over, is staggering—it’s like a force pulsing inside me.
Touch him.
Taste him.
Have him.
I travel along his neck, marking him with more deep, hungry kisses. Then even more.
I can’t stop.
As his hands rope into my hair, he lets out a desperate sigh. “God,” he pants. “You’re just . . . my undoing.”
And he’s mine.
I run my nose along his neck, inhaling him as pride surges in me from his words. Pride mixed with white-hot desire.
I’ve never wanted to turn a man on as much as I want to do that to Declan. The way he melts under my touch is intoxicating.
Powerful too.
I feel strong with him.
Last night I wanted to bottom, and I still want that for my first time. But right this second, I want to feel as if I’m topping him in the way we kiss.
Maybe this is what it means to be vers. Wanting both. Sliding in and out of both roles. Wanting different things at different times.
Maybe wanting the same thing at the same time.
Whenever we’re together, I discover something new about myself. I unlock a part of who I am.
But as I flick my tongue across his jaw, and Declan unleashes a frenzied pant, I learn this—I love figuring out him.
What turns him on.
What makes him vibrate under my touch.
What electrifies him.
I want him to feel wild for me, because I feel wild for him.
Completely crazy for him.
That’s a terrifying but thrilling realization. Maybe this is why I waited.
To have everything at once.
My chest floods with emotions, sensations, desires. It’s so staggering, everything hitting me at once.
I don’t know what to do, where to go, how to be.
Except . . . closer to him.
I run my hands over his pecs, then raise my face, meet his gaze. “I want to get you out of these clothes, get my mouth all over you. Can I do that first?”
“You can do anything to me, with me.” He grabs my hair harder, tugs it at the roots. “I can’t say no to you.”
“Do you want to say no to me?”
He shakes his head, his dark eyes glimmering with lust. He looks lost in the moment. Lost in me. “I want to say yes. To everything, Grant.”
Say yes to me.
Say yes to all of this. You and me. Me and you.
I don’t even know what the question would be. Except maybe . . . do you feel this too?
But now’s not the time nor the place. I’ve got to focus on the physical, not on my runaway feelings.
This is just sex.
Just contact.
I try to zone in on that.
My skin buzzes with excitement as we separate. I’m about to rip off my shirt. Strip off my jeans.
But I slow down. Breathe. Rake my eyes over him from head to toe, drinking in the stunning sight of this man in my room.
Broad shoulders, dark brooding eyes, lips I could obsess over.
I want to remember every second of tonight.
Want to imprint it on my mind so I can use it for fodder.