Chapter 41
I’ll Never Know If You Don’t Tell Me
I pull a pair of shorts on and stand by the window, looking out over the Strip as I wait for her. I’m holding a glass of straight gin in my palm, and I made her a vodka cranberry that’s perched on the table beside me.
Jesus.
That was…
I still can’t quite come up with the word for it.
It wasn’t just the sex. It was the entire day. Seeing her with my family—with my mom. Feeling like she has a place with us. Holding her own against my father, not that they interacted all that much. Feeling like I had a safe space if I needed one, which sometimes happens in this family full of incredibly hard-headed men.
Amazing, incredible, fantastic—none of them quite encapsulate everything that I was feeling when she told me I am the sole owner of her pussy forever.
Terrifying, alarming, shocking—those aren’t quite it, either, though they’re definitely a part of it.
One word keeps pulsing around my brain, and I’m scared to even acknowledge it.
My brain does the work for me.
Love, Grayson. It’s fucking love. You’re in love with her.
I am.
I realized it the very second I slid into her. It felt like home.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt at home anywhere. With this line of work, nothing is guaranteed, so as much as we call a place home and try to make the best of it while we’re lucky enough to be there, it’s fleeting.
Ava, though? She feels like forever.
No admission I’ve ever made has been more terrifying.
And to teach her to ask for her pleasure, to demand what she wants, to be the one making sure she’s happy, making sure she’s getting what she deserves—it’s the honor of a lifetime.
I see her emerge from the direction of the bedroom as I spot movement in the reflection of the glass.
“There you are,” she says softly. She moves closer to me, and I don’t turn around until she’s right behind me.
“I made you a drink,” I say, and I grab it off the table and hand it over. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts. It’s huge on her, and somehow it’s hot as fuck.
“That was sweet of you.” She clinks her glass to mine, and I’m not sure what we’re toasting. She’s standing right next to me, but it feels too far away. We’re quiet for a beat as we each sip our drink. “What are you thinking about?”
That I’m in love with you.
I clear my throat. “How incredible you are.”
“The sex?” she asks.
“Well, yeah. But not just the sex. It’s everything about you. You weren’t sure how to tell me you wanted it faster, but when you asked for it, it was so goddamn hot.”
“Oh,” she says, and she ducks her head a little.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Ava. I’ll never know if you don’t tell me.”
“Okay. Well, then, on that note…I liked it when you were being all demanding and making me tell you that you own me. It was so, like, aggressive and cocky and erotic and hot at the same time.”
“You liked that?” I ask.
She nods slowly and hides behind taking another sip, and I’m not sure what it is about her—maybe the easily corruptible innocence—but Christ, I’m already in deep.
“You tell me when it’s too much, okay?” I request, and she nods.
I have no doubt that she will. She says what’s on her mind, and that’s one of the very things I’ve fallen for. And the more we’re together like this, the more we experience together, the more we’ll find what works for us. The more we’ll fall into an easy pattern together.
The more we’ll fall.
I chug what’s left in my glass for liquid courage, and then I set it down on the table. I take hers and set it down, too, and then I pull her into my arms.
She leans her head on my chest as we look out the window together at the magic of the lights illuminating the Strip.
I draw in a deep breath. The words are on the tip of my tongue.
“This is nice,” she says with a soft sigh.
It is nice. It’s incredible, if I’m being honest, and it’s what I want going forward. I want to close on my new house, and I want her to be there when I get home. I want to stand near our patio doors overlooking the Strip much further away in the distance as I hold her in my arms. I want her in the stands wearing number twenty-four as she cheers our team to victory.
I want a life with her, and it’s confusing as fuck because I’ve never felt like this before.
But just like I told her…I’ll never know if you don’t tell me. It works in reverse, too. She’ll never know if I don’t tell her.
And so, before I lose my nerve, I shift us so I’m looking down at her and she’s looking up at me.
“You okay?” she asks, her brows pushing together with concern.
“I think I’m in love with you.” I blurt the words before I can stop them.
A soft gasp of surprise escapes her, and she stares at me, her eyes searching mine. She doesn’t say anything, and now I feel stupid for telling her, for scaring her, for…whatever this is.
But then she touches my jaw with her fingertips, and she rises up to her tiptoes. She presses her lips to mine. She breaks apart from me and lands back on her heels, and then she says, “I think I’ve been in love with you for half my life.”
My eyes soften as I stare down at her, and then my lips fall to hers. We kiss there in front of the window, two souls who were maybe meant to run into each other that night at the Gridiron here in Vegas despite having first met in New York all those years ago.
I’m lost in the moment, lost in her, lost in everything about this day. It’s the first time since we ran into each other that she took an entire day off to spend it with me, and it feels like somehow saying those words is the perfect endcap to this day.
Eventually, I take her hand and lead her to the bedroom, where we fall into bed. We’re kissing again—or making out, really, with me hovering over the top of her—and I have the sudden need to make love to her. I have this primal, carnal urge to be inside her with nothing between us.
The monster down below is locked and loaded.
I pull back and murmur my question. “Are you on birth control?”
She shakes her head. “No. I, uh…never really had any need to be.”
I nod as the words from earlier hit me over the head again. I own that pussy. It’s mine.
And I’m going to claim it again.
“Right,” I mutter. “We should fix that.”
“I’ll call my doctor tomorrow.”
“I need to be inside you again.” I trail my hand down to her thigh, and I reach around to grip her ass as I push my hips to hers.
“Now?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Yes,” she agrees, drawing out the word on a moan.
I was smart enough to leave the box of condoms on the nightstand, so I reach over and grab one. I yank my shorts down and roll it on, and she’s still wearing just my shirt. I put my knees on either side of her body, and I reach under the shirt she’s wearing to feel her breasts. I lift the shirt up a little and kiss the valley between her breasts as I shape them around my cheeks, and then I lift up and suck one of her nipples into my mouth.
Her hips rise off the bed at the feel of it, and I take the moment to reach down and feel if she’s ready for me.
She is. She always is.
I line myself up and push my cock into her. I hold myself up with one arm, and I start with those long, deep strokes—the ones that allow me to feel her tight pussy as it clenches over me. I want to make it last longer, but I know she likes the shorter, faster strokes—the ones that will push me to the finish line way, way too fast.
But it’s okay. Even if this moves too quickly, we have tomorrow.
That’s something I’ve never counted on before, but it’s something I’m actually looking forward to with her.
She moans as I keep the pace slow, and I know she’s enjoying it. We don’t need the quick release we were both craving earlier. We can take our time and enjoy the feel of each other. I’m too tall to get a tit in my mouth while I’m fucking her, so I reach up just to feel her tight nipple between my fingers as I press my mouth to hers again. Her tongue fights its way into my mouth, and she moans as her tongue batters mine. It’s hot and primal, and I can’t help but pick up the pace. She wraps her legs around me, urging me into her deeper with her feet pushing against my ass, and the old, familiar fire tears through me.
But it’s different this time. As I let her know I’m coming, an unfamiliar warmth fills my chest. My eyes meet hers as her pussy takes every last drop out of me, and she rolls right into her own orgasm. Her fingernails dig into my back as her body takes over, filling her with pleasure as her pussy clenches onto me and holds me in place. I’m powerless to move as I watch her give in, her face twisting and her body quaking in the most beautiful way.
When it’s all over, we each take our turn in the bathroom, and I pull her shirt off so we can both sleep naked in each other’s arms.
It’s warm and comfortable, and I play big spoon as I wrap her into my arms.
I love you. I want to say the words. If I don’t tell her, she won’t know.
But saying I think I’m in love with you and saying I love you are worlds apart, and I’m not quite ready for the heavy admission.
Someday, I will be. Someday, we’ll get there. But right now, I’m basking in the place we’re at.
I’m almost asleep when she asks, “Do you think we should tell Beck it’s not fake anymore?”
I’m not sure how to answer that. On the one hand…yes. Absolutely. On the other, this is still so new, and I’m dreading that conversation. I decide to throw it to fate as I answer sleepily. “What do you think?”
She traces a little circle on my chest. “I think we should wait. Explore, get to know one another, fall harder. He’s across the country. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Works for me. Oh, and if I haven’t mentioned this yet, I loved spending the day with you today. You should quit your job since we’ll have events to attend on weekends coming up.”
“I can’t,” she says, and there’s a hint of apology in her tone. “You know I need to save up for my own bakery.”
I think fast. “Then cut your hours, and I’ll pay you to bake for me.” I already offered this deal once, and I’ll keep offering it until she takes me up on it.
She sighs softly. “Maybe.”
I shift to hover over her again, and I drop my lips to her neck in the darkness of night in our hotel room. She arches back a little to give me more space.
“Say yes,” I murmur against her skin.
“Oh my God,” she moans. “Okay, fine, yes.”
I laugh as I roll off her and settle in beside her.
“You play dirty.”
“Maybe. But I also get my way.” I lean over to kiss her again.
“Good thing we’re on the same page.”
She’s not wrong, and it pulses yet another new fear in me. What if one day, we’re not on the same page?
Who’s going to win?