I haven’t seen Greer in over a week, and it’s slowly driving me insane.
Not just because Macie won’t stop asking when he’s going to be able to practice with her next, but because I lied before—I do miss him.
A lot.
Probably a lot more than I should, if I’m being honest. We’ve spent so much time together between Macie’s lessons and him stopping by the truck over the last month that it’s strange having him gone.
And maybe I’d like a repeat of our time at the hotel too. I swear I can still feel his hands around my throat and the weight of him between my legs. There was no way that night was ever going to be enough.
“Whatcha daydreaming about over there?” Rosie asks as she rolls out some dough.
“Huh? I’m not daydreaming.”
“No? Then why did you mix the red sprinkles with the black ones?”
“I didn’t. I—shit!” I quickly stop pouring, trying to catch as many as I can before any more red ones fall into the black bin. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugs. “No biggie. We’ll use them anyway. We can make donut holes with them or something. They’ll be our oopsie batch.”
I know it’s fine, but it’s still frustrating. I’ve been helping in the truck since Scout set this place up, but it’s not my favorite thing. Scout and Rosie are the ones who belong in the kitchen, not me. This isn’t what I’m meant to do.
Granted, working at the law firm wasn’t what I wanted to do either, but it was better than this. This I’m just a mess at, a point proven by my mixing the sprinkles.
“It’s Greer, isn’t it?”
“What’s Greer?” I ask, closing the lid on the red sprinkles so I don’t accidentally knock them over or something—which I’ve already done twice since I started working here full-time. After the law firm let me go, I begged Scout for more hours, and she was happy to give them to me. I’m not sure I want to stay here long-term, but it’s better than nothing in the meantime.
“That’s who you’re daydreaming about, isn’t it?”
My face feels like it’s on fire as I stop screwing the lid on and slowly look over at Rosie. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She grins. “Liar.”
“It’s not a lie,” I lie, focusing back on the sprinkles. “I was just—”
“Daydreaming about Greer and all that hot sex you two had at the wedding?”
I whirl around, my mouth ajar. “How did you know about that?”
“Well, I didn’t officially until now.” She winks. “But I know an I just got laid look when I see one, and you definitely had that look the morning after the wedding.”
“I… We… Oh, screw it. We had sex.”
“Ha!” She points at me. “I knew it!” She sets aside the dough she’s working on making into cinnamon sugar twisted donuts and gives me her full attention. “Tell me everything.”
So, I do.
Well, not everything. I leave out the kinky stuff, but I share enough for her to get the picture.
“So you’re saying he’s as hot in bed as you’d expect?”
I nod. “So hot.”
“Ahh!” She claps her hands together, bouncing on her heels. “I’m so happy for you! And totally jealous, by the way. I could really go for some steamy hot sex with a hockey god.” She fans herself, no doubt thinking about Fitz, who she’s been crushing on since he was traded from Vancouver.
“Do you think everyone else knows?” I ask, worrying my lip.
“You mean, do I think your sister knows? No, probably not. She’s not been around much lately, plugging away on her book, so she hasn’t seen you two together. But the moment she does, I’m sure she’ll pick up on it.” Rosie’s mouth twists. “Why haven’t you told her?”
I lift a shoulder. “I’m not sure. I haven’t told anybody. Maybe because it’s just something casual and fun. I don’t need to get anyone else mixed up in it, you know?”
She nods slowly, but it’s that kind of nod people do when they have something to say but don’t want to say it for fear of pissing you off. I should ask Rosie what she’s thinking, but I don’t because I don’t want to be pissed off. I want to keep this good mood I have going.
Greer comes home tonight, meaning I should see him tomorrow. That’s all I want to focus on right now.
My phone buzzes against the table, and I glance over to look at the screen. Hmm. I slip my gloves off, then hit the green button, bringing the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Stevie!” Bianca’s loud voice rings over the line. “How are you?”
“I’m doing well, Bianca. How are you?”
I haven’t talked to her since the night at the bar, not only because I’ve been busy but because she hasn’t called. You’d think when someone leaves so suddenly like I did, the people you were out with would call to check up, but not one of them did. It really cemented the fact that even though we may have something in common like our kids going to the same school, we aren’t going to be friends anytime soon.
“Oh, you know, the usual—running around like a chicken with my head cut off, taxiing the kids around.” She laughs loudly; it sounds so fake and forced it makes me feel sick. “I’m calling to run something by you. Do you have a moment?”
I look out at the empty lot. We should have a good half hour before there’s any sort of midday pickup.
“Sure. What’s going on?”
“Well, you know how the kids are doing the fundraiser thing, right?”
“Of course. Macie has the lead speaking role.”
“Oh. That’s lovely.” It doesn’t sound like she thinks it’s lovely at all. “Okay, I was wondering if, since you know all those guys, you could get some of the Comets to come?”
“Oh, um, I’m not—”
“I heard about you showing up at school with Greer. All the kids are still talking about it, and I think he would be a great pick. He could really bring a lot of the parents out, and maybe they’ll spend some more money.”
I hadn’t realized Greer showing up there was still such a hot topic. Sure, the kids were buzzing about it for a few days after—hell, even Macie couldn’t stop talking about it—but that was weeks ago. Surely there’s something else for them to talk about by now, not to mention I really don’t feel comfortable asking Greer for favors like that. He’s already done so much for Macie and me. I can’t ask him for more.
“Bianca, I—”
“This fundraiser is just so important. It’s for the kids, you know?”
Ugh. She just had to throw that in my face, didn’t she?
I mean, there’s no harm in asking, right? For the kids and all.
“I can ask him.”
“Oh, wonderful! That’s so great.”
“I’m not sure he’ll say yes.”
“Nonsense. I’m sure he’d love to help the children too.”
I roll my eyes because she really doesn’t know Greer at all.
“Well, listen, I have to run. Thanks for getting this done. Us busy moms on the PTA really appreciate it.”
I try not to react to the subtle dig about me not joining any school activities and force cheeriness into my voice. “Sure thing.”
“Toodles!”
The line goes dead, and I make a promise to myself to ignore her calls in the future.
“Everything okay?” Rosie asks when I let out a long sigh and rub at my temples.
“Yep. Just parental politics.”
She crinkles her nose. “Hard pass on that.”
I laugh. “You’re telling me.” I point behind her. “Can you pass me that pink icing?”
She hands it over, and I turn away, pulling on new gloves and getting to work on refilling the piping bag she’ll need in a bit. We work in silence for a bit, me refilling the decorating station and her twisting dough together. After probably thirty minutes, she’s the one to break the silence.
“For what it’s worth, I think you and Greer being together is good. He’s a different guy with you, a better guy. You could be really amazing for each other.”
I’ve tried hard not to think about us together because we said it was fun and that was it.
But if I really let myself think about it…I believe she could be right.
I’ve spent two hours trying to fall asleep, but it’s just not happening. I tried reading, I tried watching TV. Hell, I even did all the yoga poses I know. I mean, sure, it was only two, but it should have helped, right?
Either way, nothing is working. I’m wide awake, and I think I know why.
Greer’s home. He’s back. Right here in North Carolina, and he’s just a few miles away.
I want to see him so badly, but I can’t. I have to wait until tomorrow…or maybe even the next day, I don’t know. We haven’t made any plans, something that’s killing me too, not that I’d admit that to him or anything. It’s just—
Ting!
What the hell?
I stop moving around in bed and hold my breath, waiting to see if any other noises pop up.
Nothing. Must have been a neighbor or the old pipes in the building making a noise.
I punch at my pillow for the twentieth time tonight, then flop back onto the mattress. I close my eyes and try to convince myself this is the time I’m actually going to fall asleep.
Ting!
My eyes fly open. It’s the same noise as before, that same high-pitched ting.
I sit up, listening closely. Is Macie awake? That’s not likely—the kid sleeps like the dead.
I wait. Nothing.
Ting!
I look to my right.
The window.
I crawl out of bed and tiptoe my way over to it, my heart hammering in my chest. We’re up on the third floor, so there’s no way there’s someone there, but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared to look.
Ting!
I let out a loud yelp, slamming my hand over my mouth.
“Fuck!” It’s one word, but it’s enough for me to recognize the deep timbre.
I yank open the curtain and look down, my heart hammering in my chest for a totally different reason.
Greer.
I scramble to the bedside table and grab my phone, going to my recent calls and swiping on his name. It barely rings before I hear him pick up.
“Did I scare you?” he whispers, though I don’t know why. He’s the one outside throwing rocks at windows. It’s not like he’s trying to be quiet.
“Yes. What are you doing?”
“Throwing rocks at your window.”
“I know that, but why?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because I’m home.”
“You’re home.”
He clears his throat. “Can I come up? I can’t sleep.”
“I’ll meet you at the door.”
“I was going to knock, but I didn’t want to wake Macie. That’s why I didn’t call either. I wasn’t sure if you had your volume on. I know she has school tomorrow.”
“That kid could sleep through a hurricane,” I tell him as I make my way out of my bedroom toward the front door. “In fact, she has before.”
“Impressive.” I can hear him climbing the stairs.
“That she is.” I look through the hole in the door, watching and waiting for him to appear. “So, how many times did you hit the wrong window?”
“Twice. Did you know your neighbor sleeps naked? He manscapes, you know. Like completely manscapes.”
“That is way more than I ever wanted to know about Mr. Henry.”
“It’s more than I wanted to know about him too.”
I laugh, but it’s cut short when I see him striding down the hall. I pull the door open, not caring that I’m wearing my nightgown and there could be anyone else out here prowling about.
Greer stops about fifty feet away, his eyes raking over my body, narrowing only slightly when he sees what I’m wearing.
“You’re practically naked.”
“I am not. I have a nightgown on.”
“A silky, slinky, pink nightgown. I can see your nipples from here.”
“It’s cold out.”
“Or you’re glad to see me.”
“It’s cold out,” I argue, though we both know it’s pointless. It’s him, and we both know it.
The point is proven even more when my whole body starts to hum as he takes me in from head to toe. I lose my breath just from the way he’s looking at me, like I’m something to eat and he hasn’t been fed in days.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my chest heaving.
“Trying to decide if I should rip your gown off or be a gentleman.”
“Well, considering I paid good money for this, I vote the latter.”
“But the former is so much more fun.”
I squeeze my thighs together at the thought of him literally ripping my dress from my body. He doesn’t miss it.
“Tell me something, Steve…”
“Yes?”
“Did you miss me?”
So much. So damn much it almost hurts. Much more than I’m ready to admit, and more than he’s ready to hear, I’m sure.
So I don’t say anything at all. I just nod.
“Say it,” he instructs.
“I missed you, Greer.”
Even from here, I can see the way his eyes darken at my words, and before I know it, he’s closed the distance between us, and his mouth is on mine. He crashes his hands through my hair as he tips my head, kissing me roughly like he’ll never get enough. I have no idea what happened to my phone or to his; all I know is how good it feels to be back in his arms, and it’s really, really fucking good.
I’m not sure how long we stand there kissing, but it’s well past appropriate. When he finally drags his lips from mine, they feel swollen, and I miss him all over again.
“Hi,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Hi.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yes.”
He pushes the door shut behind him, his hand still on my waist. That’s where it stays as he steers me through the apartment like he’s been here a thousand times before. He doesn’t stop until we’re tucked away in my bedroom, the door softly closing behind us.
“How’d you know which bedroom is mine?” I ask as he strips his suit jacket off.
I didn’t notice at first that he’s still wearing his fancy clothes. That must mean he came straight here from the plane.
I like that he came straight from the plane.
“Well, one door is closed, and the other says Macie’s Room, Keep Out or Else on it, so I took a shot in the dark.”
I laugh. “Good detective skills.”
“I’m a regular ol’ Sherlock.”
He sets his jacket on the small chair I have at my vanity, then peruses the room.
I try to see the space through his eyes, but all I come up with is messiness. Aside from the yoga mat in the middle of the floor, I have a pile of clothes I need to fold sitting in a basket in the corner, and three pairs of shoes sit in front of the closet instead of inside it. There are photos of Macie and me up on my dresser and a few of my favorite drawings she’s done taped to my mirror.
Other than that, there’s not much. It’s plain and small and nothing special at all.
“This is exactly what I pictured your room would look like.”
“Really?” I ask. “This tiny?”
“This cozy.”
“There’s that word again.”
“What? My place is cold and barely lived in. This feels like someone actually sleeps here.”
“Someone does actually sleep here.”
His eyes fall to the yoga mat, and I laugh.
“All right, fine. You caught me. I couldn’t sleep, so I was trying some yoga.”
“How’d that go?”
“Well, I fell on my face twice and am still awake.”
“Twice, huh?” He stalks toward me.
“Uh-huh.”
“Did you hurt yourself?” He rakes his eyes over me again. “Anything I should check out?”
I roll my lips together, tucking away the smile that’s threatening. “Maybe.”
“Show me.”
I’m not sure what’s come over me, no clue where the real Stevie has gone. The real me, the one who is just a single mom who works tirelessly to make a good home for her daughter? Well, she’d never stand in front of a man with hungry eyes, pull her nightgown up, and point to her pussy.
“Here.”
His eyes slide to the place between my legs. “Is that so?”
“Yes. I think…I think it needs a kiss.”
“Hmm,” he says. “I think I have a remedy for that.”
“You do?”
He nods. “But you’re going to have to be very, very quiet. Can you be a good girl and do that?”
I trap my bottom lip between my teeth and nod.
“Good. On the bed.”
I do as I’m told, and he follows behind me, grabbing my hips and flipping me around when I move too slowly for him. I let out a loud yelp, and he slaps his hand over my mouth.
“Shh! You said you’d be quiet. No noise, got it?” I bob my head up and down. “Good.”
He slowly pulls his hand away, replacing it with his lips. He kisses me senseless until I’m writhing beneath him, begging for any kind of friction I can get.
He laughs darkly. “Someone’s eager.”
“I told you—I missed you.”
“You missed my cock,” he comments, kissing his way down my neck and over my chest. He sucks a hard nipple into his mouth through my silk gown, and I sigh with relief. He does the same to my other breast before making his way down my stomach, and he doesn’t stop until he’s shoving my dress up higher and pressing kisses to my mound. He rubs his nose against me, inhaling me with a growl.
It shouldn’t be hot. I shouldn’t be turned on by this. But I am.
“God, I fucking missed this pussy. Did this pussy miss me too?”
I nod, afraid to make a noise.
“You can answer me, Stevie.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes.”
He hums his approval, the vibrations rocking through me. “I’m going to lick your cunt now. I’m going to eat at you until you’re squeezing my tongue, and you’re not going to make a single noise. Do you understand?”
I nod again.
“Good.”
Then, he makes good on his word.
He drives his tongue into my already wet pussy, licking and sucking at me like he’s never going to get enough. He spreads my legs open, wrapping my thighs around his head like they’re his favorite accessory, and plunges his tongue inside of me. I nearly let out a scream as he sucks my clit into his mouth, but I bite down on my lip just in time.
It’s hard to keep quiet, especially when it feels so good, but I do. In fact, I don’t make a single peep as my orgasm races through me, letting my shudders and shaking legs speak for themselves.
When the last of my aftershocks shoot through me, Greer gives me one last lick before pressing a soft kiss to my clit and sitting up on his knees as I work to catch my breath. His face is shiny with my release, his hair a mess from my hands running through it, and somehow, he still looks incredible.
“You good?” he asks, the cockiness leaking out of every word.
I nod, and he laughs.
He crawls over me, pressing his lips to mine in a brief kiss. “You did so good.”
I melt at his words and reach for the buckle on his pants, but he grabs my hands, stopping me. I look up at him, brows furrowed.
“Not tonight.”
My bottom lip juts out. “But…”
“Trust me, that was as good as any orgasm you could give me.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” He presses a kiss to my head. “Bathroom?”
I point toward the dresser. “Other side of the hall.”
He climbs off the bed, then disappears out of the room. I fix my dress while he’s gone, brushing my hands through my hair.
When he returns, he clicks the bedroom light off. The moon shines in through the sheer curtains, and I watch as he pulls off his shirt and pants, folding them nicely and setting them on the chair along with his jacket. He grabs his phone, hitting a few buttons on the screen before he pads across the room and pulls the blanket back, sliding in next to me.
He opens his arms, inviting me to curl up next to him, and I accept the invitation. I rest my head on his chest, letting my fingers dance through his smattering of chest hair. I let them run over his abs and down, down, down, right to the waistband of his underwear.
He grabs my hand, stopping me.
“No.”
“But…”
“Sleep.”
I sigh, only a little upset I can’t reciprocate. “Yes, sir.”
The sting comes out of nowhere, his hand landing hard against my ass.
“Don’t tease, Stevie. Sleep.” He kisses my head. “Good night.”
“Night, Jacob.”
For the first time tonight, I have no problem falling asleep.
