Grey: Everlasting (Spectrum Series Book 6) Read online

Page 3


  “Play me some Nirvana,” he suggests.

  I giggle. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  The song “Smells Like Teen Spirit” fills the room, and for the first time since I left him, I feel content, and the warmth spreads to the rest of my body.

  Chapter Three

  I awake to the surprisingly delicious smell of breakfast. Bacon and eggs are the first things I sniff out, and it practically turns me into a blood-thirsty hellhound. I don’t think I’ve eaten in days, and it becomes apparent when my stomach begins rumbling like a broken washing machine. I get out of bed and sluggishly walk down the spiral staircase. I don’t remember going to bed, though. I look down at my attire. Nor do I remember putting on Grey’s shirt. I must have fallen asleep playing the piano, and he put me to bed after switching my tank top and shorts for his shirt. How sweet of him.

  There’s piano music playing, but it couldn’t possibly be Grey. He doesn’t know how to play the piano…right?

  I’m right, because when I finally reach the warm ground floor, there is no one sitting at the piano. There must be a speaker in here playing it then. This place is too fancy for its own good.

  “G’morning, Princesa.” I’m spanked on the butt before I turn around, hitting Grey in his very bare and very sexy chest.

  I tilt my head back to meet his gaze, and a natural smile slopes my mouth as I stare into his droopy eyes and smirk. “Good morning,” I reply, my own voice raspy since I just woke up. I yawn, and he swallows it hungrily with his mouth. His tongue presses into mine, and I stumble back since my knees decide now’s the best time to fall asleep. “Whoa.” I put my hands on his chest and step back, hitting the kitchen island. When did we get here?

  “What?”

  “I just woke up and haven’t brushed my teeth—that’s gross. I am gross.” I hover my hand over my mouth for emphasis.

  He picks me up and places me on the counter, pushing off a placemat. “I kiss you when I want to kiss you. And seeing you practically naked in my shirt…” His hands trail up under the shirt until they reach jackpot—my breasts. I can’t even hold back my moan, gripping his neck. He smirks. “I just go crazy for you. Makes me want to fuck you.” His hands glide down the valley of my bare breasts—courtesy of his hands undressing me last night—but before they can reach my panties, I grab his wrist.

  Tapping him on the nose, I hop down from the expensive marble counter. “Maybe later. But for right now, you’re not touching any of this grossness.” I walk around the counter and am shocked to find an array of breakfast foods. Bacon, eggs, waffles, French toast—my stomach is a monster endangering Earth.

  “Stop saying that. You are not gross. You’re beautiful,” he says firmly, sitting on the stool opposite me, staring at me.

  “Yeah, yeah. I already said you’d get something later,” I mumble as I stuff a French toast in my mouth. I moan, actually moan. “You didn’t cook this. When’d you have time to order this?” I point at the food, and he gasps, slapping his chest like I’ve offended him greatly. Drama queen. I chew on a crispy, but exceptional, bacon as he talks.

  “Excuse me, how do you know I didn’t make this?”

  “Because I know you.” I look into his eyes. “You can’t cook water without burning it.”

  He raises a finger, ready to object, but then slumps his shoulders and shrugs. “Fine, you caught me—whoopdidoo.”

  I laugh as I pick up a strawberry surrounding the French toast and bite into it. “Whoever made this is a genius. Gosh, this is orgasmic.” I widen my eyes for emphasis as the pinkish juice of the strawberry falls down my chin. I swipe it up using my finger, stick it in my mouth, and bob my head a little to the soft melody playing overhead. Seriously, where is that coming from?

  “You’re telling me…” Grey mumbles, and I look up from the platter of eggs. Scorching heat from the soles of my feet rise to my cheeks as I catch him eye-fucking me. No matter how many times he does that or even does anything as innocent as holding my hand, I turn into a giant tomato factory—red and plump and ripe, for him.

  “Enough staring.” I wave him over. “Come eat with me.”

  “You mean come while I’m eating you? Done and done.” He walks around and places me on the counter.

  “Grey.” I would usually be all for this, but I’m very hungry, and he’s getting in the way being his normal sexy, horny self.

  He cups my face, watching me intensely as I finish the strawberry. “Don’t be greedy. Let me get a taste,” he says lowly before leaning in and kissing me. Lips press hard, tongues seep into mouths, and his hands are everywhere. My lower back, my butt, under my shirt.

  “But my breath…” I whisper, making no moves to stop him as he takes off his shirt.

  “Would be of better use on my cock than used to talk nonsense,” he grumbles, pulling off his shirt from my body and attacking my mouth with his tongue, like they’re mortal enemies at war. Tongue wet and long and tugging at my taut nipple, I moan and grind myself against him. I pull at his jean button, pushing his pants and boxers down with my legs as far as I can, until I hear them drop to his ankles. He steps out of them, and I cry out as he cups my vagina through the thin cloth of my panties.

  “Oh, Grey.” I breathe in relieved ecstasy as he dips his fingers in my panties and rubs my sensitive clit. I rub against him, greedy for his touch.

  “Fuck, you’re so sexy when you do that,” he praises, rubbing faster.

  “Please,” I moan.

  One of his fingers enters me, and I choke on a moan. I bite my lip and nod toward his mouth; I need to kiss him. He leans down and smashes his lips on mine, licking, teasing, nibbling, claiming me for his own. I grind my hips harder, muttering “yes, yes,” as his fingers speed up, either on or in me. Mixed together, it is the best feeling ever.

  “I want you to come around my cock, not my fingers,” he groans against my lips, and I nod feverishly, agreeing.

  In a flash, I am put down on the ground and bent over the counter. I moan at the cold marble pressed against my breasts, my legs spread wide for him. This is a new position, and already I love it. The anticipation, the hot presence of his thighs touching my butt, the promise of him entering me…

  “You’re back on the pill, right?” he asks, holding onto my hips. He sounds out of breath already, and he hasn’t even entered me yet.

  “Yes, now, please—oh!” I begin, but he cuts me off being the asshole he is by smashing into me. Hard, deep—I feel every single square inch of him. I nearly explode already. “Oh my, Grey! This feels so—”

  “Orgasmic? I know.” I can hear his smirk in his words and blush. Mocking me while he fucks me, do you see what an amazing boyfriend I have?

  He pulls out ever-so-slowly, then plunges into me in one sharp go. I jerk forward and cry out a moan, creaming at the sound of his own moan. Low and guttural and because of me. His fingers curl into my skin, causing me to hiss at the pain and surprising pleasure. I nearly bite through my entire bottom lip as he thrusts in and out of me in a fast pace, making sure to touch and caress every part inside of me. I swear, I can feel him in my chest. Hard, fast, dominant. He is all of these things, and I thank the heavens for it. I am so damn lucky.

  My eyes roll in the back of my head as he murmurs, short-breathed, “You are such a good princesa. Taking my cock like this.” His words make me flush. Euphoria hits me with a force to be reckoned with each and every single hard thrust, like he’s trying to climb through my body, possess me.

  I moan his name, “Grey,” as I revel in how amazing this feels. To have him in me, taking control of me, using me to his will. I vow that, this is the only way he’ll consume me until I can’t even form a thought. He’ll steal me in his kisses, hard gazes, quick glances, fleeting touches—everything that is either intimate or in the gray shaded area before that. Otherwise, I am my own person. I feel that, if I don’t make this promise and maintain it, I’ll truly lose all of myself. And I’ve already given so much to him, too much. I need to
hold onto what’s left with a sense of protection or I’ll never forgive myself.

  I am dug out of my thoughts when he pulls out. Cold. “What are you doing?” I ask him, breathless.

  “I need to see your face,” he says, just as breathless. His eyes flash with lust as he picks me up and slams into me.

  “Oh my—Grey!” I scream his name so loud, I am extra thankful I have the floor to myself.

  He sets me on the counter and pounds into me, growing sloppy and needy. I cup his face and lick his lips. His mouth opens, and he cups one hand around my neck, the other on my butt, pulling me toward his cock in every thrust. I yelp and mewl and beg and whisper and groan—this man is fucking me way too good.

  “Grey, Grey…oh, that…fuck, Grey!” I stop peppering his long neck to murmur, bouncing my hips back and forth a little for friction. He plunges even deeper into my soaking heat, reading my mind like the magician he is.

  “Yes, say my name, princess, as I fuck you raw,” he groans, his voice drawling. Black eyes swallow me whole, and I groan, reaching for the words on his back. Just for me. Only me. I gently bite his lower lip and moan loudly, but he covers his mouth with mine and melds our tongues together. The kiss is passionate, hard, wet, and surprisingly so heartwarming. Like eating home-baked cookies on a Sunday.

  “Ugh, I’m so close,” I announce in an airy breath.

  “Come for me, princesa.” Warm kiss here. “Let me feel you come around my cock.” A little lip nibbling there. And a whole lot of climaxing everywhere inside of me.

  “Grey!” I scream his name at the top of my lungs as pleasure hits me square in the stomach, shooting from nerve to nerve. I lean my head back and smile, moans slipping out of my mouth as his lips greedily kiss and suck the length of my warm neck. I run my nails up and down the base of his neck, feeling his veins thrum like a snare drum beneath my fingertips. I swallow thickly, feeling him tense within me. I hum in euphoria cloud-nine, gripping his hair.

  “Fuck, keep doing that, bebé,” he says slowly, his breathing harsh and ragged.

  I grip his hair some more and kiss his chin, looking at him through my lashes.

  “Fuck, I’m done. That—you know what that look does to me.” I laugh and feel beet red as I feel him fill me up. He’s the fuel that keeps me burning bright.

  I tip his head back, kiss behind his ear, and whisper, “I know.”

  His slams into me one last time, making me cry out because of how sensitive I now am. Bastard. “You’ve become so confident, fucking sexy as fuck. You know that, don’t you?” He slowly pulls out of me. I feel empty and sad, but he quickly kisses me and wraps my legs around his waist. I feel warm and smiley as he lazily rubs my lower back.

  “Should I be thanking you?” I tease, resting my chin on his collarbone and gazing into his black eyes. At one glance, you’d think they were soulless, just there to intimidate you. But I’ve loved them since the moment I laid eyes on them, and he has the biggest heart and soul I know.

  “Fuck yes.” He sighs, lost in thought as he plays with my hair.

  “What?” I kiss his chest, and he smiles with his eyes closed like he’s in pure bliss.

  “I just…just thinking about how much I love you. How I took practically everything from you, like your kiss, virginity, heart…fuck, I sound like a cheesy motherfucker. Sorry.” He tries to pull away, but I stop him. Holding his hands, I bring them up and kiss the top of his forever bruised and calloused knuckles that feel like God’s perfect, hand-crafted pieces of art.

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you were my first for everything.” I’m not lying, not one bit.

  He sucks on his lower lip and glances at the promise ring, then back into my eyes. “And your last…?”

  I kiss his knuckles again and nod, murmuring, “Definitely. Always and forever.”

  He breaks into a smile and quickly whispers, “Always, and I fucking love you,” and crashes his lips onto mine, swallowing my laugh. The kiss seems to go on forever, and when it’s over, I rub my tingling lips. They are puffy, and I bet they’re red from all his hard, but extremely effective, kisses.

  Now, a voice says in the back of my mind. Now is the perfect time to mention the NY deal. He’s basically committed to me; he’s smiling like he’s on the top of the world, gently caressing my cheeks—overall, he is in the best mood. Hopefully he won’t freak out, throw my ring out the balcony, and say no.

  “We should get ready to go back home before traffic starts up on the highway.”

  I grasp for words, confused. “Oh. I thought we could stay a bit longer. I told you I’d show you around the city.”

  He shrugs. “Not really into the city or the state.”

  “Um, why not?”

  He shrugs again. “I don’t really like it, too fast-paced for me. Too loud. Penn’s always been my home base, always will be.”

  “So…so you’d never think of living here?” I ask anxiously.

  He bursts into laughter and shakes his head. “Fuck no, not in a million years. No. I’m good where I am.”

  “Forever?” I ask breathlessly. If I look like an anxious deer about to be hit by a monster truck, he doesn’t notice, because he leans forward and kisses my nose.

  “And ever,” he whispers.

  Chapter Four

  I stare blankly at the calendar on my desktop. It’s been a few days since we abruptly left New York before I could even show him around my home state. I’d asked him if he ever thought about living in the city, but he quickly shot down the idea with a laugh. Like it was the craziest thing I’d ever said to him. I grew so self-conscious, so scared of losing what I’d just cemented with him, that the New York opportunity shrieked and clambered back down my throat. There’s no way I can suggest going now. I’ll just have to turn it down.

  But I thought you were going to be your own person, my inner voice mocks me. And that you wouldn’t let him consume you.

  Truth is, I’m happy. Not letting him consume me, just really happy. Content. He makes me happy. He is unlike anyone I have ever known. Sarcastic, cruel when he wants to be, hot-headed, crude, sexual, and overall an ass…but that doesn’t mean he isn’t also sweet as candy, loyal, warm-hearted, and a caring person.

  I could never leave him for a job. In reality, I don’t exactly need money, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to work for my own, not the hundreds of thousands saved for me. I can always work an odd job while I work on my career on the side. Having a well-paid job isn’t enough to deter me from living my best life with the love of my life. Would you really give up the person you knew was “The One” for a job? I wouldn’t—not for anything in this world.

  Grey is my middle ground—the gray of the simple world, my adventure, passion—my everything.

  Gosh, I sound so cheesy. But I’m happy and I’ve decided what I wanted for my life. Not a fancy job and uncomfortable smiles and feeling empty, but a life filled with so much…more.

  “You're what?” Garrett seethes, drilling holes in my head as he stares at me.

  “Turning down the job offer in New York.” I repeat what I told him a minute ago, only more confident.

  I decided to withdraw the moment we were driving away from New York. He insisted we drive back in one car. Said carpooling helped the planet, questioning if I wanted the world to be polluted. He was ridiculous, making me call Trevor and telling him to drive my car to the apartment. Despite his weird, sudden care for the planet, I knew the real truth: he didn’t want to be lonely on the way back like on the way here. He wanted me. And I wanted him, so I let him say whatever lies he desired.

  It was the way he smiled at me whenever he thought I wasn’t paying attention. The way he played with my hair. Tugging. Kisses chaste with each mile. The way laughter slid out of my mouth like water gushing out of a waterslide. Easy and filling my entire body—from toes to the top of my hair—with so much warmth and light and bubbly, like a glass of Grey champagne. It’s the way he holds me from behind, whispers dirty things
in my ears. Even the way he scrunches up his face when he disagrees with something. Superman over Batman. Waking up at eight. Putting on shorts before sliding into bed next to him.

  It’s him and me and the feelings and his smiles and the sun resting on my stomach—it’s anything and everything with Grey Wyler.

  Garrett shakes his head in disappointment. “I gotta say, I didn’t expect this from you, Olivia.”

  I shrug, picking at the hem of my purple blouse. “Neither did I…but I wouldn’t be happy there.”

  “Who says?”

  “Me.”

  He bunches up his mouth and sits in his desk, exhaling slowly. “May I ask why you’re giving up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?”

  I nod unsurely, then confidently. “I have too much here that I’d rather not leave behind.”

  “What may that be?” he pushes.

  “Love, Garrett.”

  He wants to roll his eyes, but he remains stoic. “Love can only go so far, Ms. Westerfield. You are young, but you will learn. To build your career is to build the foundation for the rest of your life.”

  “But what’s the point if I’m not happy?” I ask, and he scrunches his thick brows, prompting me to continue. “Let’s say I accept and buy a condo and settle in and start that internship. I’ll be paid well, start fresh at NYU, and ultimately be empty. Displaced. What I have here in Pennsylvania is more than enough for me to stay.”

  He rubs his eyes. “I honestly thought better of you.”

  My throat tightens, and I rub my hands together. “I’m sorry to have disappointed you. Do I still have the internship here?”

  He removes his fingers and pauses, then nods stiffly. “Of course. The paid internship was only an offer. You keep the one here, though I can’t guarantee it forever, since we take in new college students frequently.” Again, my throat tightens, but out of fear. But then Grey’s smug-ass smirk fills my brain, and I feel a little more at ease.

  “That’s okay.” I stand, and he watches me with an unreadable expression. “Thank you again for the opportunity. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”