Part 3 – Bloom
I know better than most people that healing isn’t linear, and that happiness doesn’t last forever. The fact that I allowed myself to hope differently is purely my fault.
Four weeks before everything goes to hell, I’m sitting on the worn leather couch at the front of Inkjection as I finish the last details of the outline for my final creative writing project.
I tend to be humble, but Gracie and Sammy: Undercover Detectives is looking very promising if I do say so myself. Luke offered to give it a read once it’s done, and I plan on reading it to Maddie too.
So yes, for once, I’m excited about this project now that I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Cal’s last client of the day, an ex-military man with an impressive tattoo on his buzzed head, comes out to the front of the shop with my boyfriend right at his heels.
God, my boyfriend. How can saying something feel so right and so surreal at the same time?
He winks at me before turning to his laptop to type something in, and I melt against the leather. As he talks to his client, my unapologetic eyes drift over to his hands and stay there for longer than it’s probably acceptable. All I can think about as I stare at those strong but gentle palms, those thick and talented fingers and his tattooed knuckles is how good it felt last night when he grabbed my ass as he pounded into me, my legs tangled around his narrow waist to take him even deeper.
Holy shit, when did it get so hot in here?
For the past few days, I’ve slept at his apartment every single night. Emily isn’t complaining about my absence—if anything, she’s encouraging me to stay with him even more often. As if that was possible.
“Move in with him,” she suggested one day, so casually it threw me off and I almost choked on my morning coffee.
“What?! Em, are you insane?”
She only shrugged and said, “He’s it for you. I can feel it. Why are you wasting your time?”
Her words have been echoing back in my head ever since. Not like I’d act on them any time soon. Cal and I are only recently learning to navigate this new connection; we don’t need any added pressure.
And talking about added pressure… We haven’t told Aaron yet and hiding our relationship from him is killing me. Not because I’m scared he’d lash out at Cal if he found out before we tell him ourselves, but because it would hurt him that I’m keeping this from him. It just… never came up. The moment never felt right enough.
I know they are bullshit excuses, but I’ll tell him soon. Eventually.
My attention drifts back to his hands, so rough and beautiful at the same time. Capable of pleasuring me, holding me, taking my pain away. More than once I’ve caught myself daydreaming about what it would be like to feel his fingers inside of me, but every time I’m about to suggest it in bed an invisible leash holds me back.
We have all the time in the world, and I promised myself I wouldn’t rush any stage of my healing journey. Cal understands this and never pressures me to do anything I’m not sure about, which helps. Yet every time those fingers touch my body, I wonder…
“Sunshine.”
I blink, waking up from my daydreams at the sound of his voice, just in time for him to bend over and capture my lips in a sweet, short kiss. When he pulls away, a warm smile adorns his handsome face. “How’s the outline going? Are you finished?”
I mirror his sheepish smile and notice for the first time his client is gone and we’re alone at the shop. “It’s all done. I’ll start writing it tomorrow, actually. I’m so excited.”
His lips descend over mine again, pecking them so gently my heart combusts. “I’m so proud of you.”
The words are on the tip of my tongue, just like they’ve been for a while now. But it’s still too soon to set them free, especially when we aren’t on the same page yet. He’s barely just admitted to himself that being in a relationship won’t ruin her sister’s life—I can be patient. For him, I’ll always be.
His hand engulfs the side of my ribs, just below the now healed tattoo. I get tingles just thinking about his ink on my skin, his beautiful art on my body forever. “Are we still going to the vegan truck?” I ask him, voice breathy. I’m not fully used to this touchy, more intimate side of him yet, but I’m also not complaining.
“Yeah, I’m starving,” he says, and the double entendre isn’t lost on me. Goosebumps appear all over my arms as he takes a step back and holds out his hand, helping me up. “Ready? My car’s out back.”
Once he closes the shop, we step outside the freezing December air, and I press my jacket closer to my limbs. It’s so darn cold, I curse myself for having forgotten my hat at the dorm.
I tell him about the outline of my book as he drives across town, and for the first time since Professor Danner told us about the project, I’m thrilled to start writing my book. This gut feeling I’ve been harboring for the past few weeks is screaming at me that I’ll be all right, and this time I’m going to listen.
“What do you wanna try tonight?” Cal wraps an arm around my shoulders as we scan the menu at the vegan truck.
“Mm-hmm… How about the tacos? Are they any good?”
“Oh, yeah. I think I’m in the mood for one of the sandwiches. We can share if you want.”
“Deal.”
After getting our food, we go back to the car as it is unbelievably cold outside. He only complains once—he hates eating in the car, but I don’t want to freeze my butt off. Cal moves Maddie’s car seat to the front, and we take the back.
“I was thinking,” Cal starts as he wipes his fingers on a napkin. I follow the movement with my eyes like a starved animal. “Trey’s birthday is coming up, and he wants to grab some drinks at Danny’s to celebrate. He told me to ask you if you wanted to tag along.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “He did?” I mean, I like Trey and we joke around sometimes, but I didn’t think he liked me enough to invite me to his birthday party. Or it could be because I’m now Cal’s girlfriend and he feels obliged to…
No. Stop it right there.
He invited you because he wants you there. End of the story.
“Yup.”
“When’s this thing?”
“Tomorrow after we close. You in, sunshine?”
A few months ago, it would’ve taken me hours to think this through. But now, as wary of crowds as I still am, I say without hesitation, “Sure. It sounds fun.”
Because Cal will be there to shield me from everything, but even if he wasn’t, I can hold my own ground now.
If the past few weeks have taught me anything, it is that the soil I’ve been planted in is fertile enough to make me bloom under any circumstances. Slowly, at my own pace, but I’m getting there and that’s all that counts.
“Good.” Cal sets our empty takeout boxes aside. “Now come here. I miss those lips.”
***
Callaghan
There are endless little things about Grace that drive me insane.
The way her whole face lights up when she talks about books. How she unconsciously reaches for me when we sleep together. Her dancing around my living room with Maddie while I make dinner.
Seeing her in a tight, short dress is one of those things.
When I pick her up from her dorm, I physically have to stop myself from throwing her over the hood of my car and making love to her right there. She’s addictive in the way happiness is addictive, and I want to feel her in my veins every fucking day.
Tonight, though, I can’t.
Because something else that is currently driving me insane—in the worst way possible—is the fact that I’ll have to keep my hands off her all night.
Aaron is here, and he doesn’t know about us. The only people who do are Trey and Grace’s group of girl friends, who have sworn to secrecy until we tell Aaron ourselves. I’m not sure what Grace’s waiting for, but I vowed to follow her lead and I won’t break my promise now.
Hopefully, my cock gets the memo too.
And trust me, it’s not easy to make him understand. Not when Grace’s warm body, clad in such a sinful dress, is pressed against my side as the crowd moves around us. We’ve been at Danny’s for an hour and so far, my hands haven’t reached past her elbow. Anything lower than that and I know for a fact I’ll have Aaron breathing down my neck in a second, demanding I explain why I have a semi.
Because this is Grace, so naturally any type of contact between us sets my whole body on fire.
At one point she stands on her tiptoes to say something in my ear, but she’s so short compared to me that I still have to bend over a little. “Bathroom,” she says simply, and with a firm nod I let her know I’ll keep an eye on her as she leaves.
She’s just disappeared into the women’s bathroom when the strong grip of a hand lands on my shoulder. “Cal, man. Long time no see,” says Anderson, one of the regulars at the shop.
I keep an eye on the bathroom door as I talk to Anderson, who’s more Trey’s friend than mine, but he’s a solid guy and I don’t want to be a grumpy asshole to him. My shoulders relax when I spot Grace coming out to the bar, and then they tense again as some jock stops right on her path, a smug smirk on his dumb face.
I’m this fucking close to throwing him out into the streets when I remember Grace’s conversation with Aaron. She was annoyed at him for being so overprotective, as if he didn’t believe she could take care of herself. So while Anderson keeps talking to me even though I’m not hearing a damn word, I keep my eyes on her.
One panicked look my way and I’m breaking his legs.
But the guy doesn’t cross any lines, and Grace seems calm enough. She nods at something he says, then she laughs and shakes her head. He’s obviously into her, probably offering to buy her a drink, but she only turns her head to look at me and winks.
My smirk is a promise of what’s to come when we’re alone later.
Their conversation lasts less than a minute, and I breathe a little easier when Grace is back at my side. Not being able to help it—and not caring, either—I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer. Once Anderson spots somebody else in the crowd and leaves, I turn to her, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She gives me that small, adorable smile that does wicked things to my heart. “He was just flirting.”
“Flirting, huh?” I tug her closer and drop my mouth to the shell of her ear. “So what you’re saying is that some fucker was hitting on my girl.”
Her breath hitches, and the fact that my possessiveness turns her on is not lost on me. “Maybe.”
My hand moves down to rest a little lower, the sudden urge to claim her in front of all these people—Aaron be dammed—crawling up my spine at a dangerous speed. “Can’t have that now, can we?”
She tips her head slightly, so my lips are brushing her nose. This is dangerous territory, but neither of us are thinking too clearly right now. “Come with me,” she whispers before tugging at my hand and leading me across the bar and down a dark hallway.
We pass the crowded bathroom line and step inside what seems to be a coat closet. A tiny one.
“Grace?” My heart pounds like crazy when I understand what it means that she’s dragged me here.
The closet isn’t completely dark as there’s a ventilation grid above the door which lets in the faintest hint of light. Somehow, Grace finds a lock on the door and turns it. When her eyes find mine, lust is pouring out of her.
Her hands land on the button of my jeans and my cock stirs. “I need you in my mouth,” she whispers so roughly I almost come right there.
“Fuck, babe.” Almost as a second instinct, I grip the back of her hair just tight enough not to hurt her.
Determination gleaming in her eyes, Grace carefully slides the zipper down and then my jeans until she comes face to face with the prominent bulge on my boxers. I can’t hold back the groan that pours out of me when she strokes my cock through the thin fabric. She’s given me oral before, but never like this. She’s never looked so starved, so eager to put me in her mouth. So confident.
Fuck, her confidence is so fucking sexy.
After a few strokes, she finally pulls down my boxers and wraps her hand around me. And shit. The mere sight of my dick between her small fingers is enough to make me desperate with need. She licks her lips, and I tighten my grip on her hair.
“You’re gonna suck my cock like a good girl?” I grunt, marveling at the woman on her knees before me.
She looks up at me with big, innocent eyes, and I fight the urge to shove my cock down her throat as punishment because the last thing she’s right now is innocent, and she knows it. “Is that what you want me to do?”
I angle my hips forward, the tip parting her rosy lips. “Let me fuck your mouth,” I breathe. My girl whimpers at my possessive demand, and fuck if it doesn’t make me even harder.
She keeps her eyes on me as she spits on the swollen head of my cock, getting it all wet and ready for her. She plants an open-mouthed kiss on my sensitive skin before swirling her tongue and sucking hard on my length.
“Fucking hell,” I groan, already losing control. My hand on her hair tightens, holding her in place. I don’t dare take my eyes off her in case I miss a second of her pretty mouth around my shaft.
Grace strokes the base of my cock with her hand, adding a small twist as she works me once she realizes she can’t fit all of me in her mouth. It turns me on beyond reason that I’m too big and thick for her. Throwing my head back in ecstasy, I remember how my cock stretches her so wide when I fuck her in every hole.
Shit, shit, shit.
Like a man possessed, I start thrusting into her mouth until the head of my cock hits the back of her throat, making her choke on it. But she doesn’t stop even as her eyes water, and the lust I feel only keeps growing.
“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” I groan as I keep thrusting my hips. “You like how I fuck your mouth, don’t you? That’s right, I want every inch of my fat cock buried deep in your throat.”
She moans at the rough command, and the sound makes my balls tighten. I push even deeper, careful to not hurt her but still aching to see her choke on me. The sight of her on her knees, with my cock in her mouth, gagging on it, moaning around it…
I’m so fucking close.
Tears roll down her cheeks as I fuck her mouth with abandon. “I’m gonna come in your mouth,” I warn her, but she only moans around my shaft and doesn’t pull away. “And you’re gonna swallow every drop of my cum like a good girl, understood?”
She loves it when I manhandle her like this, when the rough side of me comes out in bed. I can only imagine how fucking wet she is between her legs, how exquisite she would taste right now. “Your throat is so fucking tight, babe. I bet your pretty little pussy is gonna choke my dick when I fuck it later.”
She whimpers with need, desperate to be filled in other places too. I thrust into her like an animal for another few seconds until I can barely hold myself together any longer. “If you want me to pull out, say it now.”
Grace only manages to shake her head. Looking right into her eyes, I pump into her one last time before spilling down her warm throat while she moans around it. Her throat moves up and down as she swallows my cum, and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever had the fucking privilege to witness.
My dick eventually softens inside her mouth, my grip on her hair eases, and we’re both breathing heavily by the time I pull out. Still on her knees, Grace’s eyes follow my movements as I crouch down and kiss her hungrily, not minding the taste of myself in her lips at all.
“You okay, sweetheart?” I wipe her tears away with the pads of my thumbs. “Was I too rough?”
“You were perfect,” she reassures me with that bright smile. “I never thought I would give you a blowjob in a coat closet, but here we are.”
I throw my head back with a laugh and pull her up with me, hugging her to my chest. “I don’t think we should risk our luck by doing part two here.” I lower my mouth to her ear and whisper, “I’d rather fuck you slow and good in my bed.”
Her breath hitches. “Looks like we’ll have a busy night, then.”
