Eleanor & Grey(86)
He smiled, and I loved it.
“Yeah, come find me.”
With that, he left, taking my heart with him.
I stayed in my reading nook until the clock hit 11:50 p.m. I read the words of a fictional land that was far, far away for hours, but still, Greyson kept crossing my mind. I didn’t even try to fight the thoughts. I let him stay there.
I stood up to go meet him, and I gasped slightly when I opened the door to see him standing there.
“Greyson,” I said breathlessly.
“Hi, Ellie.”
“What are you doing here? I was just coming to find you for the confetti—”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, placing his hands against the frame of the door and leaning toward me. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for some time, and I don’t know what that means. When I close my eyes, I see your face. When I daydream, it’s you who’s there.”
My heart was racing at a pace I hadn’t known hearts could achieve. I felt hot and cold all at once as my hands fell to my chest and I stared into those beautiful eyes.
“Sometimes when I’m around you, I feel it,” he said.
“Feel what?”
He looked up at me with the sincerest stare, parted his lips, and whispered, “Everything.”
Why wasn’t my mind catching up fast enough? Why weren’t my thoughts forming?
“Tell me I’m crazy, Ellie. Tell me you don’t feel it when you look at me. Tell me you don’t see it when we lock eyes. Tell me I’m insane and there’s nothing between us.”
“I can’t tell you that, Grey.”
He tilted his head up a little. “And why’s that?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you, either.”
He dropped his hands from the doorframe and moved a little closer to me. “You feel it?” he whispered, moving so close that his breath danced against my skin.
I nodded. “I feel it.”
There were so many reasons why we should’ve walked away. He was still mourning, and I hadn’t known how to make my heart beat correctly for a man.
We were still broken, and cracked, and growing and learning. We were mistakes and perfection, flowing streams and hurricanes.
But for how long could I deny what I felt? How could I pretend that the feelings weren’t there? Truth was, I thought the feelings for the man in front of me had never really disappeared.
How could they?
He was him, I was me, and we were us.
This was us.
This was our story.
He took my hands in his, linking our fingers together, and I was certain I was seconds from passing out, seconds away from my legs giving out. I was shaking, or maybe it was his chills I was feeling. Honestly, it was hard to tell what were my feelings and what were his.
He moved closer still and rested his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes as his hands glided against my lower back and my body effortlessly arched toward him.
“I want to kiss you,” he whispered as his eyes dilated.
“I want to kiss you back,” I replied, my words falling faintly from my tongue.
“I need you to understand that if I kiss you, I won’t stop. Everything will shift, and nothing will be the same. If I kiss you, we’re going to be something new.”
“Yes, I know,” I said, sighing against him as I opened my eyes and stared into those gray eyes. “But do it anyway.”
And then he did.
His lips slammed against mine, engulfing me fully as I kissed him back. He kissed me hard, as if he was making up for all the missed time. I kissed him back for all the moments our lips had not been locked. He closed the door behind us and led me into the reading nook.
I stepped back a little and looked at him with a smile.
I tossed off my high heels.
He removed his suit jacket.
I began to unzip my dress.
He loosened his tie.
My dress fell to the floor, and his eyes danced across my body. “Jesus, Ellie,” he muttered, moving in closer, placing his hands on my skin, pushing his body against mine. His mouth moved to the curve of my neck and he kissed me gently, whispering, “I want you so bad, I want this so much…”
I unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his body. My fingers trailed up and down his chest. Half of me thought I was dreaming and half of me thought I was back in my world of make-believe fantasy, but I didn’t care.
This felt too good to stop.
He unhooked my bra and slid it off. His hands cupped my breasts, and he lowered himself to gently suck on them, worshipping me with every touch.
Next, his pants came off, and we tossed them to the side of the room.
My nerves were live wires, and I thought he could tell because every now and then he’d tell me I was so beautiful.
Once the clothes were off, we moved like the wild.
Everything became faster as we grew more determined with our actions.
He laid me down slowly upon the blankets. The strings of lights shone above us as my hands rested against his chest. I watched his heavy inhalations and exhalations move through his body, and silently I begged him to take all of me. I wanted him to give me his all, every piece of him—the good, the bad, and the broken.
He rubbed his hardness against my thighs, and I arched in his direction. He bent down low and swept his tongue against my earlobe before gently sucking it, sending chills down my spine.