I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN—IT’S Gracie. She’s upfront. Ballsy. Strong. Even when she’s literally been kicked down, she’ll pop right back up again, fists in the air, dancing on her toes because that’s how Fryd taught us to fight.
“Light on toes, kids, light on toes.”
“Balls of your feet, Dad,” Trent would correct, but Fryd would waft a hand and dismiss the correction.
My lips quirk at the memory even as I can see she’s getting impatient by my lack of an answer.
“You think I make it a habit of accidentally kissing women? That’s one way to get put into a database somewhere.”
She sniffs. “You know what I mean.”
I move, surging forward with a speed that makes her jolt when she sees how close I am to her.
The color on her cheeks is all mine. And that slight flare of her nostrils? Green light.
Slowly, I lower my head, giving her time to back away.
She doesn’t.
Gracie stays right where she is, and I stay right where I am.
My mouth hovers over hers.
Her breath becomes mine and mine becomes hers.
“Liam?” she whispers.
“Gracie.”
She swallows.
My finger traces the bob of her throat, and I enjoy the soft moan she releases at the tender touch.
“I-I… I want this but our friendship…”
Ah.
Now, I understand why she’s been weird since Christmas.
Studying her, I take a moment to bask in her scent.
Roses today.
God, she drives me crazy without even trying.
There’s a whole host of words I want to say, that I need to say, but my little brain is almost in total control…
Almost.
“This changes everything and nothing.”
“What?”
“I mean, it changes everything because once I kiss you again, there’s no going back. No hiding away. No embarrassment.” I let the tip of my nose brush hers. “No wondering if I want this. If I’m going to use you for sex. No fear.”
“O-Okay. Why nothing?” she whispers, clearly invested in my answer.
“Because no matter what—” I’m never letting you go. “—we’ll still hang out, we’ll always have spent a part of our childhoods growing up together, and we’ll still be a team. No resigning, you got that?”
I don’t know if she can see how imperative that is to me. I can’t deal with this, any of this, the New York Stars’ this, Greco this, my goddamn father this, PTSD this, without her.
And I won’t.
My life is better with her in it and I won’t stop until every part of her day is better too because I’m hers and she is fucking mine.
“Kissing you, having sex with you, being with you, will not change our trajectory,” I rumble, watching her pupils flare in response.
“Trajectory?”
I’m not about to tell her that I’ve been driving us down this path for goddamn years. It’s time I stop Gracie’s mind from racing.
The good old-fashioned way.
Letting the tip of my tongue flutter to the corner of her lips, I trace a path to the other side.
The soft groan she utters will never leave my memory banks. It will remain there, locked away, until the day I die.
And then I get confirmation that Gracie’s okay, that she’s back to herself because her impatience gets the better of her. I also get confirmation that she wants this, me, as much as I want this, her, when her hands slide around my neck and she drags me into her, her chin arching up as she joins us together.
I can’t be rough—after the day she’s had, she needs gentle. But nothing about her kiss is gentle.
Before I even get to peck the corner of her mouth, hers is open and her tongue is ready to tangle with mine.
A groan of my own escapes me as her nails dig into the back of my neck, and that’s when she slays me—her legs part on the stool and she drags me into her, crossing her calves over my ass.
Cupping her chin, I tip her head back so that I can lean forward, letting her feel more of me. Her nails start to rake down my spine, hands shifting and flowing over me in a way I’ve been waiting to experience again. That’s a lifetime’s fantasies and dreams all in one.
As she fights for control in true Gracie fashion, I smirk against her lips then retreat and bite the bottom one before I sink lower, lower, lower.
When I find her throat, she moans again and that moan lights me up inside. It’s deeper than before. Needier.
She’s needy—for me.
As I nip her there, suckling the skin to leave a mark behind, she whimpers, her claws dragging at my tee before she scrabbles it higher so they can dig into me.
The scraping sensation has me shuddering in response.
“Fuck, Gracie, fuck.”
As I nip the join between shoulder and neck, she shivers and, on an exhalation, admits, “Liam, God, that feels so good.”
My name on her lips is what feels good. Better than her hands on me or her nails clawing at me, and that’s so much better than epic, it ties with lifting the Cup.
My hand settles on her knee and brushes the bandage I wrapped there.
It’s an immediate red flag that has me retreating and dropping a peck on her mouth. “You with me, Gracie?”
Dazed, she blinks. “Huh?”
Gently, I smooth my finger along the outer edge of the bandage. “Are you okay with this?”
Her pupils are blown now but she whispers, “Orgasms are good for pain relief, right?”
That kills my erection.
I cup her cheeks. “Where does it hurt, bébé?”
Her nostrils flare and her arms slide around my waist, dragging me closer to her with surprising strength. Not that I should be surprised when she’s a pocket rocket.
As her thighs clutch at my hips, drawing me nearer, she mumbles, “Just my hands. My head. But don’t stop.”
I nuzzle my nose down the side of her jaw, wanting to take this further, not wanting to lose the progress we’ve made today, but my hard-on disappeared the moment she mentioned she was in pain.
With a final kiss to her temple, I snatch ahold of her fingers and gently drop more kisses along the curve of her wrist, murmuring, “Shall we test that theory, hmm? That orgasms are better than ibuprofen?”
She gulps but nods. Her breathing comes hard and fast as my hand moves to her waist, clutching there for a second, giving her a gentle squeeze, before it slides over her front.
This is Gracie.
Mon Dieu.
I’ve wanted her for so long that I don’t even know when it started. Sure, I realized what I was feeling when I was in that goddamn hellhole, but I’ve wanted her for longer than that. Maybe… always.
How I missed her when she moved to Vancouver…
How I looked for her at Thanksgiving dinner when she didn’t attend…
How I tried to meet up with her whenever I was in New York…
Those are instances that have been happening since she dyed Kow and me green.
As I slide my fingers over the front of her pants, I rumble, “Are you wet for me, Gracie?”
“O-Oh, God.” She hiccups, eyes fluttering to half-mast.
I nip her bottom lip. “Is that a yes?”
Her nod is shaky. “I-It is.” She reaches between us. I can feel her working at the buttons on her fly.
Curious, I let her take control, and I’m glad I do because when she unfastens her pants, she grabs my hand and tucks it down the front.
When my fingertips meet the crotch of her panties, they encounter slickness.
I groan at the proof that she wants me, me, ostie, moi, then I stroke her softness, murmuring, “Is all this mine, Gracie?”
Her hips rock forward. “This is so wrong, Liam.”
My chuckle is dark. “Could something that feels this good ever be wrong?”
“I’ve—” She breaks off, but her arms tighten around my waist.
“You’ve…?” I ask, kissing her a second before I pluck her panties aside and slide my fingers along her bare slit. As she judders, her thighs squeeze me harder.
“I-I’ve?” she answers with a question.
“Concentrate, Gracie,” I chide, nipping her bottom lip again. “Don’t you like this?” I rub her clit, enjoying the keening sound that escapes her.
God, that’s music to my ears.
The way it hitches in the middle, breaks as if it’s too much, as if she can’t cope with it—I need more of this in my life.
Her nails are back to digging into my spine. “L-Liam,” she mewls, spreading her legs but only so she can maneuver me with her heels, hauling me tighter into her.
“What, bébé?”
She shudders. “Fuck.”
Suddenly, it clicks.
What’s that shit all the girls like on BookTok?
Praise?
I’ve never done this before, but I’ve watched the videos, seen how hot it gets them, so I give it my best shot: “You’re so wet for me, Gracie. Such a good fucking girl.”
She jerks against me. “L-Liam?”
“So fucking good,” I rasp, encouraged by her response. “Creaming those panties for me. Do you like this?” When I circle her slit, a sob soughs from her. “Give me the words, minou.”
“T-That f-feels s-so n-nice.”
There’s that goddamn word again.
I tut. “Nice? Then I need to do better.”
I thrust my finger into her tight channel, enjoying the way it clutches at me, then I retreat, enjoying her whimper even more, and I find her clit again. The broken mewl she releases has my cock leaking pre-cum.
Erection reinstated.
Tabarnak, the sounds she makes.
“Still nice, ma belle?”
“So good. Don’t stop. Please,” she begs. “I need your dick. How the fuck is it not in me yet?”
That’s what I needed to hear.
Pulling back so I’m looking into her eyes, I rest my forehead atop hers and I stop messing around.
Needing to give her pleasure, I whisper, “When you ask so nicely, ma chérie, how could I refuse? But you need more than that tonight.”
That’s when I slide my fingers over her clit, rubbing fast and hard, moving in circles, trying to ascertain her preference while encouraging her to fall off the cliff I want to build for her.
When she starts to pant, the susurrations shimmy over my lips, but it’s how she clutches at me and clings that’s poetry in motion.
When she comes, the sob she releases is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
Her back arches as she cries, “L-Liam, don’t stop. Fuck, you can’t. Please. PLEASE.”
So I don’t.
I listen, giving her what she wants because, ultimately, that’s exactly what I want.
Her.
How ever she’ll let me have her.
Whenever she’ll let me in her.
Whatever she’ll let me do to her.
When one of her hands circles my wrist, the nails digging in, I watch as she wriggles, angling her hips back. Letting her maneuver me, I quickly pick up on what she wants.
I circle her slit with three fingers, getting them wet before I thrust one in, following it with the second and third after she relaxes.
“You take me so beautifully,” I rumble. “So fucking beautifully. Even better than I expected.”
Instantly, her cunt clamps around me.
“God, how have I gone so long without experiencing this? You fill me so perfectly, Liam. I need you. I need to come around you. I want you to fill me with your cum. Fuck, I need that so much,” she cries.
My dick aches with how badly I want inside her, but this is about Gracie. Not me. And definitely not my dick.
Still, I get my confirmation that whatever dirty talk I throw her way, she’s more than capable of hurling right back at me.
Game on, Gracie.
With my thumb, I rub her clit, enjoying her whimpers and mewls, soft sounds that I’ve never heard coming from my abrasively delicious Gracie before.
When she presses her mouth to mine, diving into a kiss that peters to a halt as she climaxes, I grin in satisfaction, pressing against her G-spot so that she can eke out every inch of pleasure.
“Liam, oh, God. Please, don’t— I need. Too good. Fuck. Yes. YES. Liam—”
Her heels dig into my ass, hips rocking and thrusting with wild abandon until she starts to come down, her tongue toying with mine gently, no longer feasting as she rides the high I gave her.
For endless moments, there’s silence between us, just the quietness of our kiss. A kiss that doesn’t stop, that we feed and nurture, cultivating with the connection of our lips and tongue and teeth, and it’s heaven. Pure fucking heaven.
Everything I wanted yet somehow so much more.
We part, but only to leave tender, nipping kisses on each other’s mouths.
“‘Better than you expected?’”
The mumbled question has me rocking my forehead against hers as I realize she picked up on something I said earlier. “Yeah.”
Her gulp is audible. “You’ve been thinking about this?”
“For years.”
There’s no point in bullshitting her here. Now that I’ve had a taste of her again, that’s it. I’m done and I won’t stop until I’m the only one who ever hears those soft sounds of release from her.
They’re mine.
They belong to me.
“Since the kidnapping?”
I’m not sure why that has her tensing but it does.
Easily, I hitch a shoulder. “Missed you since you left Kow and me behind.”
“Behind,” she mutters with a snort. “Yeah, because your star stopped soaring after I moved away.”
“I didn’t realize how you grounded me until it was too late.”
“Is that a bad thing?” she rasps, squirming as I pull my fingers from her, letting them drift to my mouth.
Watching her watch me slurp her cum off the digits, I murmur, “Not a bad thing at all. You know that. Fuck, you taste good.” She jerks as I carry on, “The kidnapping made me realize how long it had been since I’d seen you. It’s easy to take people for granted in this life, and it put my priorities straight.”
She studies me, her gaze locked on my hand as I move her panties back into place. “You’re hard.”
The shift in subject has me smirking but I just agree, “Very.”
Her lip is sucked between her teeth. “You don’t want to do something about it?”
“Not when you’ve just been mugged. Did the orgasm work?”
“Work?” She blinks. “In what way?”
“You said orgasms were pain relief.”
Her grin is dopey. “Yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?”
“Well?”
“Better than ibuprofen, not as good as morphine.”
“That’d be an interesting stay in the hospital if it was as good as morphine.”
Her snicker makes my heart do some interesting shit in my chest. “Damn straight.” Her hand settles on my tee, fingers pinching at the fabric and pulling it taut to my torso. “Liam?”
“Uh-huh.”
“We—”
“—are both adults?”
“We are.”
“Consenting adults.”
A sigh whispers from her lips and I just have to kiss her.
“Yeah,” she breathes, her hand sliding over my shoulder now so she can hook it around my neck.
I don’t think I’m being ‘forward’ by moving into her. “So?”
She stares me straight in the eye. “They’re going to go crazy.”
Knowing how to lay this to rest, I muse, “Since when do you give a damn about what your brothers have to say?”
Her mouth rounds into the most perfect ‘O’ I’ve ever seen in my life, then she jerks back, all fire and brimstone, to snarl, “It’s none of their business.”
“Agreed.”
“They can go fuck themselves and their opinions!” she bursts, tone irate as if Kow has already condemned us for hooking up.
“They sure can,” I say lightly, letting my thumb trace the line of her jaw.
“And if they have a problem, then we can duke it out!”
I hide a grin. “That’s not fair.”
She nods. “It’s good that you know my right hook is better than theirs.”
Happiness settles in my chest like the most delicious of weights. “So, we’re doing this?”
Gracie stares straight into my eyes. “If we are, there are rules.”
Amused, I tug her into a deeper hug. “I’d expect no less.”
“If any puck bunny comes onto you, then I’m within my rights to smack the shit out of them.”
“So long as it doesn’t end up with you getting arrested, sure. But if you haven’t noticed by now, I stopped giving a damn about puck bunnies a long while ago.”
“I noticed,” she concurs. “Kow asked me when was the last time you got laid.”
“He wanted to know? Fuck, he’s an oversharer.” I groan.
“When was it?” she mutters, her cheeks tinging pink.
“For educational purposes?”
“Just so I know if Kow asks me again,” she reasons.
Because she was my last ‘hook-up,’ I white-lie my way out of this: “Before the kidnapping.”
Her eyes go big and round. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nah. My priorities changed, remember?” I could play it cool but instead, I throw myself into this wholeheartedly: “I stopped wanting the chicks who don’t matter and realized the only woman I want is the one I’ve known for over a decade.”
Her throat bobs as she squeaks, “Me?”
“Yeah, you,” I agree, laughing at her surprise.
A breath gusts from her. “Wow.”
“I have rules too.”
“Technically, I only told you one of mine,” she grumbles.
“If this doesn’t work out, I’m still holding you to our agreement.”
“Which agreement?” she demands, confused.
“The agreement we struck on the night of Amelia’s wedding.”
“Huh?”
I tap her nose. “Not my problem that you don’t remember what you agreed to. Best get to thinking.”
“That was years ago!”
“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”
Her eyes narrow at me. “I’m not going to announce it to the world but I won’t keep you a secret.”
“Good,” I counter, knowing she’s taking back control of the conversation by returning to her rules. “I don’t want you to.”
“If Kow asks, I’ll tell him.”
“He won’t have to ask. I’ll tell him.”
“You will? Huh. I didn’t think—”
“I’ve been thinking about this for years,” I say calmly. “It’ll take some time for you to catch up.”
Though she gnaws on her lip again, her nod is slow in coming. “Me and you, huh?”
I smile. “You and me.”
