Grayson
I’m restless.
I’m moving on the balls of my feet, waiting impatiently for a flash of blonde to appear at the gates.
I don’t know why I’m panicking. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve seen her. It hasn’t even been that long since the last time I saw her. I saw her a week ago, which isn’t that long, but it seems like it’s been an eternity since I last had my hands wrapped in that golden blonde hair of hers or saw that smile that brings me to my knees.
My favorite thing about Rosie is her smile. The way her cheeks glow and her eyes wrinkle, and that beautiful mouth grins wide. I love it, and I can’t wait any longer to see it.
I don’t even know if she’s gotten off the plane yet, and I’m here waiting like an idiot for this girl who’s my… what is she exactly? My fuck buddy? That doesn’t seem right.
I still as I watch her walk out of the gates, dragging her suitcase along behind her, as she searches around the room for me. I grin. I fucking grin like a madman.
Her eyes find mine, and I somehow manage to smile even more as I watch her try to run in those heels of hers. Why does she wear heels everywhere she goes? I mean, I’m not complaining, they look sexy on her and those legs. I want her naked and those legs wrapped around me, still wearing those heels.
The taps of her shoes get louder as she approaches me, and I erase the distance, striding forward towards her. She drops her suitcase, jumps into my arms and wraps those long legs around my waist as I hoist her up. Fuck, I’ve missed her.
She wraps her arms around my neck and brings her mouth to mine. I kiss her softly. I kiss her hard. I kiss her like I’ve missed her. I make up for the fact that we haven’t seen each other in over a week, and it’s been driving me crazy.
I pull back, brush her golden hair out of her face, and bring one hand to cup her face. “I fucking missed you, angel.”
Her cheeks turn the cutest shade of pink as she smiles at me. “Me too,” she breathes out.
I don’t want to let go, so I crash my mouth back down on hers. I slide my tongue inside, tasting her like I want to taste her body. I kiss her hard and show her how much I’ve missed having her here with me in my arms.
After a while, I set her back down on her feet, ignoring everyone else around us. I don’t care what they think. All I care about is my angel right in front of me.
She picks up her suitcase, and I hold out my hand, beckoning her to take it. She wraps her small fingers with mine, intertwining them together, as I get her out of there and head back to my place.
“I’ve never been in your room before,” Rosie says as she looks around my room. She glances at the walls, my bed, my dresser. She’s taking it all in, and I’m taking her all in. The image of her on my bed has me grinning as I take off my shirt.
“You have,” I tell her. “You just ran out of here before you could see it.”
She turns, facing me with pink cheeks. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just thought you’d be alone.” She shrugs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I should have known better.”
My brows furrow. “What does that mean?”
She bites her lip as she looks down. “It means I knew your reputation. I should have figured you’d be hooking up with a girl.”
I hate that she believes everything those dumbasses say about me. I thought after everything, she would know that I’m not like that. “We were just kissing.”
Her eyes snap up, and she gives me a look of disbelief. “So, you’re telling me that if I didn’t walk in, you wouldn’t have hooked up with her?”
I clamp my mouth shut. She got me there. Brianna and I would have probably hooked up if she hadn’t walked into my room, but I’m glad she did. “Okay, you’re right.” I concede. “But that doesn’t matter anymore.”
She sits on the edge of my bed, fiddling with the hem of her dress. “I know we’re not… you know.” She glances up at me for a split second and then looks back down at her hands on her dress. “I just wanted to know if you were still hooking up with other girls.”
“No,” I tell her, honestly. “The only girl I’m hooking up with is in my bed right now.”
She doesn’t look up at me. She keeps looking down at her dress. She’s not fidgeting anymore, but she still won’t look at me. “Really?”
I take a step forward. “Yes, Rosie. Since you and I started this thing, I haven’t been with anyone else.”
“I don’t know if I believe that,” she mumbles. What the fuck does that mean? My jaw clenches as I cross the room. She’s still not looking at me. God damn it, Rosie. Look at me.
I slowly lift her chin to look up at me. “Have I given you any reason not to trust me?”
Her eyes lock on mine, those bright blue eyes shining as her throat moves, swallowing hard, and then she shakes her head.
My shoulders relax a little. “Then why don’t you believe me?”
“Because we’ve only hooked up twice. I expected you to get… busy when we weren’t together.”
I don’t know why I want her to believe me so much. She’s right, we have only hooked up twice, and we haven’t even fucked yet. We aren’t in a relationship, and I could have been with other girls if I wanted to. But I didn’t want to.
“There has been no one else, Rosie,” I tell her. “I…” I swallow the words that are stuck in the back of my throat. My mind is running right now. “I need you to believe me. I haven’t been with anyone else.”
The reason this started was because she came to me looking to lose her virginity, and for some dumb fucking reason, I’ve been trying to prolong it as much as possible.
“Okay,” she says. “I believe you.”
“Good.” I crash my mouth against hers and flip us over so that I’m sitting on the bed and she’s standing above me. Her arms encase my neck as she lowers herself to straddle my leg. She hums into my mouth as her hips start rotating on me.
Fuck. She’s humping my leg, getting herself off. I groan into her mouth, and she swallows it down. “So needy.” I husk out against her lips. “Grinding on my leg.”
She runs her hands up and down my chest and arms. She’s exploring me with her hands and feasting on me with her eyes, and I stay still, offering myself up to her. “I love your tattoos,” she says, looking at my body with a hunger that I can feel. Her pussy throbs on my leg, and I’m tempted to bring her other leg around so I can press my growing erection to her heat.
“You have a thing for bad boys, huh?” I grin, watching her face light up with arousal as she caresses my skin with her soft fingertips.
She shakes her head. “Not usually.” Her eyes look up and find mine, and her arms lock around my neck.
“Then why am I different?”
“Because you’re not bad,” she says. “Not really.”
My confusion takes over my expression. “What does that mean?”
She lowers her head, leaving a soft kiss on my chest. “You’re good. You just don’t want anyone else to know you’re good.”
My throat bobs as I gulp. That kiss on my chest. Fuck. “I’m not good, Rosie.”
She shrugs. “I think you are.”
Isn’t that what I want? For her to see me in a way no one else did. And here she is, saying she thinks I’m a good person, and I wish it were true. “You don’t know me, angel,” I tell her. “Not really.”
She knows bits I’ve told her, but she doesn’t know who I am or what I’ve done. She doesn’t know the monster I became at an early age. She doesn’t know any of that. And I don’t want her to know. I want her to see me as someone who could be good to her, for her.
I cradle her face, running my thumb over her skin. “I’m not like you, Rosie. You’re good, kind, a fucking angel.” I exhale, loving how she melts into my touch. “I don’t deserve you,” I tell her. “No one is ever going to be good enough for you, Rosie. That, I can promise.”
Her brows furrow a little as she frowns. “You’re not a bad person Grayson.” Her hand comes to my face as she caresses my face. I let my eyes drift closed at the feel of her hands on me.
“I wish you were right,” I whisper.
“I am.,” she whispers back, lowering her head to kiss the corner of my mouth.
My eyes open as I see her look at me with adoration. Something in her eyes lights up when she’s looking at me, and I feel my chest tense. The way she’s looking at me, and the things she’s saying…
I squint my eyes at her. “This thing we’re doing, these games we’re playing.” I swallow. “You’re not going to fall for me, right?”
I wait for her response. There isn’t a flash of emotion on her face. She’s frozen, taking in the question until she finally shakes her head.
“No,” she says. “You’re not who I want.” I can’t explain what happens to my chest when those words come out of her mouth, but fuck, that hurt. “And ultimately, I’m probably going to end up with some guy who’s a member of the country club and who owns a hotel.” The corner of her lips raises in a slight smirk. “I just want you to fuck me.”
That’s good, right? She doesn’t want to be with me. She just wants to use me for sex. That’s what this whole thing started off as, anyway, so I should be happy that was her answer. And I am. Fucking ecstatic. That’s why my heart is racing. Probably.
I laugh at her eagerness as her hips keep moving slowly. “Such hostile words for an angel.” My hands drift to her hips, down to her ass, as I grasp it in my hands. “But I’ll happily oblige.”
“You see,” she says, letting out a laugh. “What kind of bad boy says oblige?”
“The kind who went to private school,” I tell her, my lips twitching.
She stills. Her hand tightens on the back of my neck. “What?”
I grin. “I told you. You don’t know me.”
Her eyes scan my face frantically. She even shakes her head, trying to make sense of what I told her. “You went to private school?”
“Yep.”
“You… what?” She’s confused, which I find so cute. The way her brows draw together, creating a little line between them as she frowns.
I choke out a laugh at her face. “I went to Lynch Prep.”
Her frown deepens. “But… that’s in New York. You’re from New York?”
I nod. “I guess we run in the same circles. Who would have thought?” I smirk at her expression.
“I’m so confused right now,” she says with a shake of her head.
“My last name is Livingston,” I tell her. I’m done hiding from her. If she wants to know me, I’ll tell her. There’s no reason for me to keep any of myself from her anymore.
She freezes. “Livingston? As in Emily Livingston. The woman who I had lunch with yesterday. That Livingston?”
“Yep.”
“What? How?”
“My name is Grayson Carter Livingston. I just dropped the last name when I came here. I didn’t want anyone to look at me differently because of who my parents are.”
“Your mother is Emily Livingston. CEO of Livingston Couture,” she says to herself.
“You figure stuff out fast,” I joke.
“Wow,” she says, shaking her head. “You were right.”
“About what?” I ask, running my hands on her skin.
“I really don’t know you. And here I am, rubbing up on you.”
I snort. “Please continue, I don’t mind.”
“I’m serious, Grayson,” she says, lifting herself off my lap and backing away from me.
I groan, running a hand through my hair. “What do you want to know? I’ll tell you.”
“So, you’re rich?”
I shake my head. “My parents are.” They might have paid for my tuition, but I’m in no way rich.
“Then why are you a drug dealer?” she asks.
“I’m not.” I hate that she still thinks that. “You just assumed it.”
“I saw you,” she says, not believing me.
I feel my jaw tighten. I would never even touch drugs, not after what happened, never mind sell them to other people. “I wasn’t selling drugs.”
“Then what were you selling?”
I run my hand through my hair, sighing. “Assignments.”
Her brows furrow even more. “What?”
I nod. “Homework, assignments, whatever people need me to do.” Most of them are athletes with shitty grades who need good enough grades so they can keep playing, which is how I make my money. What I didn’t expect was that the rumor would be that I sold drugs instead.
Word got around freshman year that a kid came from a trailer park with an addict for a mother. I took the heat for Aiden, hoping the rumors would die down. Instead, with the help of Ben Reed, word got around fast that it was me. I didn’t expect it to turn into this, though.
I lost count of how many people have come up to me asking for drugs. And, of course, it reached the dean, who then called my parents, who now think I’m hooked on drugs. Aiden was right, I should have shut down the rumors, but I couldn’t do that to him.
“What?” Rosie asks, shocked.
I shrug. “Turns out I’m not as dumb as everyone thinks.”
The scowl on her face smoothes out and is replaced by a frown. “I don’t think you’re dumb. I just… I thought you were a drug dealer. It’s what everyone thinks,” she says, taking a step closer to me.
“I don’t care what everyone else thinks. I just didn’t want you thinking that.” I want her to know me. She’s the only one who I’ve wanted to share myself with.
“Well, I don’t anymore.”
I nod, my shoulders relaxing. “That’s good. I like having you know me.”
“I like knowing you,” she says, taking another step towards me.
I glance up at her, smiling. “I missed you.”
She breathes out a laugh. “You already said that.”
“I’m saying it again.” I won’t ever stop saying it. I fucking missed her. “Come here,” I tell her.
She takes one more step and then straddles me. I lift the hem of her dress and pull it over her head, revealing her soft skin in nothing but lacy lingerie. Did I mention it’s red? It’s fucking red. I’m the luckiest guy ever.
I groan, tipping my head back. “Angel, you’re killing me here.”
“You like?” she asks, grinning.
I let my hands drift to her hips, feeling the lace underneath my hands. “I love,” I tell her, squeezing her hips.
“I thought you didn’t believe in love,” she retorts with a lift of her eyebrow.
I roll my eyes. “Fine. I really like it.”
“How much?”
“You want me to show you how much I like seeing you in nothing but this lacy thong?”
She nods. I lower my head and find her nipple over the lacy bra and suck it into my mouth over the fabric. She arches her back, letting out a gasp. I bite softly and release her. “Does that answer your question?”
“Nope,” she says with a mischievous grin. “I’m going to need more to assess it.”
This girl. I shake my head, grinning at her. My hands reach behind and unclasp her bra. “As much as I really like this. It has to go.”
I pull the straps of her bra down until it falls onto my lap. I throw it onto the bed and lower my head, sucking on her bare nipple. She tastes so good. I almost forget how good she tastes, how good she feels, how good this feels with her.
My mouth leaves her puckered bud, and I bring it to the center of her chest, kissing all over her body. Her neck, her jaw, her breasts, her stomach. All of it.
Her hips start grinding against me, and the heat of her makes me feel dizzy. I play with the hem of her panties, stroking the skin as my hand dips inside.
I find her clit and slightly graze it, enough for her to sigh but not enough to give her the friction she needs. Instead, I bring my fingers down and lower them to find her entrance.
“You’re soaked.” I groan when I find her pussy dripping all over my hand. I press the tip of my middle finger inside her, hearing her suck in a breath. I slide it in deeper, feeling her tighten against my finger. Christ, she’s so fucking tight. My dick twitches at the feel of her squeezing my finger.
“I don’t want to play anymore,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen, and a slight frown appears on her face. “You don’t?
I shake my head, giving her a hard peck on her plump, soft lips. “I want to fuck you.”
