Play It Safe(80)

God, I loved the taste of him.

Always did.

His hands slid up my back, gathering my hair, holding it at my neck in his fists, his arms tight around me as I kept riding him.

It didn’t take me long, it had been over seven years, it came fast and I gasped, “Gray.”

He heard it, knew it was coming and he twisted me. I landed on my back, he kept thrusting and his mouth came to mine as it swept through me, bright, burning, beautiful and I moaned my orgasm into his mouth. Then both his hands went behind my knees, jerking up and, still mewing through the glorious aftermath of my orgasm, I kept taking him, rocking my h*ps to take more of him, give more to him. He buried his face in my neck, grunting with each thrust, his hands shoving back my knees and I knew he was close.

“Baby, I wanna see,” I whispered and his head came up.

My hand moved to one of his, took it, he twisted his, laced his fingers with mine and pressed it into the bed beside me as he kept driving into me.

“Missed you,” I kept whispering, watching his face, drinking in his beauty. “Missed you so much, Gray.”

He held my eyes and kept moving as he whispered back on a groan, “My beautiful Ivey.”

“Missed you, honey.”

Then he gave it to me. His c**k drove deep, his head shot back then it fell forward, his forehead to mine and I watched it move through his face as his h*ps bucked into mine again, again, again, again and one last time before he stayed rooted and his weight hit me.

When I sensed it was fading for him I whispered yet again, “Missed you.”

Gray closed his eyes and then his head slanted and he kissed me, wet, deep, yes, God, yes, I missed him.

His lips slid from mine to my jaw, my ear, down and started nuzzling my neck as his hand left the back of my knee. My calves shifted to round him, his free hand went up into my hair and he moved our linked hands to press them to his chest, sandwiching them between us.

Finally his head came up but his eyes didn’t come to me. They went to my hair and I watched him watch his movements as I felt his hand sift through it like he was arranging it, fanned across the comforter.

He took his time doing it; his expression absorbed then his eyes came to mine.

“You never cut it,” he noted softly.

“Never,” I confirmed.

“It’s longer now.”

It was. A lot longer.

“Yes.”

His eyes held mine and I saw something flash in his, more pain but understanding.

“You did that for me.”

I did. I never cut my hair except for trims and I did it for him.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Didn’t have me, knew what that meant to me and did it for me.”

I pressed my lips together. His voice was rough, thick, it sounded tortured like he had to push the words out.

“Fuck, Ivey,” he whispered.

I closed my eyes and lifted my head to shove my face in his neck.

His hand squeezed mine then I felt him turn his head so he could say in my ear, “Gonna get off you now, dollface. You need to put your sweet nightie back on. We got shit to talk about and I want you to feel safe while we do it. Yeah?”

I pulled in a trembling breath, nodded, my face moving against his skin then he gently slid out, rolled off me and took me with him. Then he rolled out of bed, taking me with him when he did that too and setting me on my feet in the circle of his arms but he didn’t let me go.

I tipped my head back and looked at him to see he was looking down at me.

“You gotta know, I also want you to put that nightie and those panties back on because I like them a f**kuva lot.”

Then he grinned and gave me the dimple.

I had a nanosecond to make a choice. Take in that dimple for the first time in years, how it made his extreme masculinity so damned cute, remembering how much I loved it, feeling that love still, having it back and burst into uncontrollable tears again. Or take in that dimple for the first time in years while standing na**d in his arms after he told me he still loved me then made love to me and keep my shit and move forward with Gray to put the past behind and move the f**k on.

I chose option two.

And therefore I grinned back. It was tough, the pain wanted to burst through so my grin trembled on my lips. But I did it.

He saw it, a shadow crossed his features but he made the same decision as me. I knew this when his head dipped, his mouth touched mine, he again lifted it and his arms gave me a squeeze.

Then he ordered, “Get dressed, honey.”

I nodded and moved to grab my nightie and panties. I pulled the nightie on over my head then moved to the bathroom, cleaned up, donned my panties and came out.

Gray was buttoning up his jeans, his chest was bare, the TV was off and the minute I moved into the room, his eyes came to me.

“Come here, dollface,” he murmured.

I went there. The instant I made it to him, he picked me up like a groom would carry his bride and he walked us to the bed. Then we were in it. He spent some time grabbing pillows to stack behind his back then he settled with head and shoulders against the headboard, me tucked to his side, my head to his pectoral, his chest all I could see.

God, was I really here with Gray?

To prove it to myself, my arm snaked across his flat abs and my leg lifted and tangled with one of his.

Yes. He was real. I was there with Gray.