Stinger (A Sign of Love Novel)(86)

I felt the tingling begin at the base of my spine, an orgasm swirling through my abdomen, and I moved even faster to claim it, my skin breaking out in goose bumps at the intensity.

Just as my climax hit me and I began to jerk inside Grace, she screamed out and I felt her pulsing around me as I came, spilling my seed inside of her as I thrust forward. I buried my face in her neck, moaning out at the same time I breathed her in.

I lay still for several seconds, feeling our mutual pulsating recede and finally fade away.

I pretended to let out a snore against her neck and she laughed out, and my cock, still halfway hard, slipped out of her a little bit with the movement.

I brought my head up and looked into her eyes, dancing with laughter. I grinned into her beautiful face and leaned forward and kissed her. As my lips met hers, something occurred to me and I leaned back quickly.

I closed my eyes for a beat, opening them and grimacing down at her. "I didn't use a condom. I'm so sorry. I don't even have one here anyway, but, f*ck, I didn't even–"

She frowned slightly but then shrugged her shoulders. "It's okay. The timing's off anyway. I just ended my period a couple days ago. I think we're good."

I gazed down at her. "Okay," I said, rolling off and pulling her against me. I was quiet for a minute. In all the years that I had had sex, except on film, I had always used a condom. As I considered it now, I couldn't bring myself to care that we hadn't used one this time. I knew I probably should, but I just didn't.

After a couple minutes, I felt her breathing slow. I pulled the comforter all the way up to our necks and grinned up at the ceiling. Grace was asleep. She had traveled miles and miles, through the middle of the night, into a snowstorm, during Christmas, to come to me. I was filled with happiness and gratitude, and a deep peace, one that I hadn't felt for so very long. It calmed me and relaxed me and I gave in to it, falling into a peaceful sleep, my Buttercup wrapped up in my arms.





CHAPTER 30


Grace



I woke up slowly and snuggled into the warmth surrounding me. I was buried deep under a pile of blankets, the smell of Carson all around me. I sighed out in happiness and contentment.

I didn't know how long I'd been sleeping since the shades were closed and the room was dark. But Carson wasn't here.

I sat up and saw a duffle bag sitting near the closet and so I got out of bed and went over to it, peeking inside. The cabin was chilly, but not freezing, and I smelled the very faint smell of a wood fire burning.

There was a thermal, long-sleeved shirt right at the top of Carson's bag and so I pulled that over my head. I dug through his clothes a little bit more and found a pair of boxers. I smiled as I pulled them on and turned the waistband down so that they would stay up on me.

I went to the bathroom and did my business and used Carson's toothbrush. Then I left the bathroom and peeked down the hall. I didn't see Carson anywhere.

I walked back into the main room with the fireplace and really looked around this time. The kitchen was right behind it–an open floor plan, although because of a bar separating the two, I couldn't see it in its entirety. There was a fire blazing and the furniture was comfortable and rustic, plenty of throw blankets draped on the arms of the couch and side chairs. It was a room that made you want to snuggle up and stay awhile.

There were large windows on every wall with a view of the snow-covered pine trees surrounding the cabin. Snow was still falling gently outside.

"Sleep okay, Buttercup?" I heard as Carson's arms came around me from behind. He kissed the side of my neck and I tilted my head to give him better access.

"Hmmm," I sighed. "Why do you call me Buttercup?" I smiled and tilted my head even more, relishing the feel of his lips on my skin.

There was a slight pause behind me as his lips stilled against me, and I turned to face him. I gazed up questioningly, as his eyes filled with warmth. He looked back down at me in thought.

"When I was a boy, I used to pick buttercups in my granny's yard. She used to hold one up to my chin and I used to hold one up to hers, and when it reflected yellow, she told me it meant we liked butter."

He breathed out, a slight smile on his lips. My breath hitched in my throat, my heart beating loudly in my ears as I took in every word.

"When I asked her how the buttercup made a glow, she told me that anytime you liked something, or anytime you gave your heart away, its glow became a part of you and made you glow too. The very first time I saw you Grace, to me, you glowed. I thought I disliked you," he laughed softly, his expression tender, "but I couldn't deny that you glowed. To me, you shined. And you still do. All these years, Buttercup, and you still do."

I laughed out a small sob, tears filling my eyes as I pulled him to me and kissed his lips. We stood there for long minutes, cuddling and hugging each other close, him wiping my tears away when a few trickled down my cheeks.

"Thank you," I said softly. What he had given me hadn't come in bright, shiny paper, hadn't been tied up with a bow. But it was a gift nonetheless–he had given me the gift of his heart, the gift of the truth.

After a few minutes, when I had gotten a hold of myself, I leaned back and asked softly, "What time is it anyway?"

"It's only noon. You slept five hours or so."

I turned back around in his arms, looking out the large windows again. "It's so beautiful here," I whispered.