Chapter 6

Six

North

I tell myself she’s not really coming. That this is all a dream.

I’m worried if I get my hopes up too high, they’ll speed down from the sky and crush me.

After waking up early to clean the entire apartment, I’m standing at the kitchen window waiting for an expensive car to pull up and park on my block. I have no idea what she drives, I just know it’s probably new—and it’s probably going to stick out like a sore thumb. Honestly, I don’t care. Like I told Grace, money is going to be an issue between us. Pretending it won’t be is just foolish and shortsighted. But right now, I don’t care about who has more spending cash, I just want to see her. I just want to touch her.

Living in this cramped apartment with my sister, I don’t get a lot of alone time. But ever since Grace sent me that picture of her tight ass, I’ve locked myself in my bedroom and crammed my cock into my fist three times, panting into my pillow when I come. Christ. I’m half hard again right now remembering the taste of come on her thighs. How she kisses sweetly once second, dirty the next, keeping me on my toes. If she actually shows up here, it means something. It’s important. This won’t just be a one-time thing where I drive her home, hook up, and leave. It’s the start of something.

My gut tells me it’s something big.

Bigger than me or her or zeroes in a bank account.

A silver Porsche stops in front of my building and all I can do is shake my head. That thing is going to get keyed to hell. Unless I let everyone know the owner of the Porsche is with me. With that in mind, I stride out of the building, down the flight of stairs and out into the muted Sunday sunlight. And that’s when she steps out of the car.

My step falters, heart smashing helplessly into my jugular.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck, I’m gone for this girl.

And she’s looking at me the same way over the roof of her low sports car. A car I wouldn’t be able to give her in a million years. She’s flushed, outrageously gorgeous, her blue eyes naked with yearning. I’ve got to be reflecting it right back at her. There is no way to hide something this strong. I’m already moving in her direction, faster than before, starved for the sight of her up close. When I round the hood and see she’s wearing a short, white skirt and a black, tucked-in top that molds to her tits, all of the blood in my brain travels south.

“Hi,” she breathes, taking a single step in my direction.

Whatever expression she sees on my face makes Grace drop her purse. She throws her arms around my neck and I catch her up in a bear hug, lifting her straight off the ground. I can’t help it—I groan brokenly at the feel of her body, the cherry cola scent that rushes straight to my head. My groin. I haven’t felt whole since Friday night when I drove away from her house, I realize. This is whole. When she’s in my arms.

“God, Gracie. How did I miss you so much?”

She rolls her forehead against mine, her breath coming out in a stuttered pattern. “I missed you, too. I don’t know how I made it through yesterday.”

Her honesty is the knockout blow to my self-control and I kiss her hungrily, tasting that initial gasp on her tongue, memorizing the way she gathers the collar of my one nice shirt in her hands, slanting right and opening her lips for me. Letting my tongue slide in deep, deep, everything moving in slow motion, the earth allowing me to get a hit of my drug. Our tongues wind together and pull, a sense of possessiveness powering through me. Oh yeah. Mine. We start easy, taking our time, but soon we’re messy and frantic, my right hand molded to her ass through that short fucking skirt, holding her tight to my lap.

The kiss has a lot to do with sex. There’s no doubt of that.

Before the day is over, we’re going to end up naked.

Grace isn’t leaving Southie a virgin. There’s just no way an attraction like this can go unsatisfied. It’s not typical. It’s not normal. It’s demanding and raw and vital and vicious.

This attraction hurts.

There’s more than sex inspiring the desperate movements of our mouths, though. It’s almost like this is our new method of breathing. I’m not sure how life was possible before now. How I got up out of bed every day without being able to kiss Grace. And the way her heart slams up against mine? Those broken sounds coming from her throat? They tell me that by some miracle, she feels this way, too. Jesus, it’s a miracle.

I have no idea what we’re going to do about it.

We’re from different worlds.

But for today, I just want to forget all about the differences in our economic statuses and be with her. Soak up every blissful second I’m given.

I back Grace against the car and she moans, starting to wrap her legs around my hips—and that’s when I know I have to break the kiss or risk plowing her in broad daylight, right here up against this fancy Porsche. Calling on every ounce of my will, I take my tongue out of her perfect mouth and press her face into my neck, stroking a hand down the back of her hair. “Damn, Gracie.” I gather her up to me as tightly as possible. “How long do I have you for?”

“Until tonight.” She lays her cheek on my chest. “I usually have an early dinner with my father at the club on Sundays, but I told him I needed to do some research at the library for an extra-credit assignment. He gets home around eight and I should try and be home by then.”

“Eight,” I repeat, unable to believe my luck. “That’s almost the whole day.”

She stiffens slightly. “I…I mean, I don’t have to stay the whole time. I just thought—”

“I want every second.” I tip her chin up, surprised to find her looking a little self-conscious. How the hell is that even possible? “Hey. Whoa. There are no doubts here between us. If you can give me time, please give me the time. I want it so fucking bad. Every minute you can spare me. You doubt that?”

After a minute, she shakes her head. “No.”

“Good.” I kiss her forehead. “We don’t doubt. Say it.”

“We don’t doubt,” she whispers, her breath bathing my neck.

She lifts her eyes to mine and I’m rocked with a sense of purpose. This girl—this angel—is in my care for the entire day. It’s barely started and this is already the greatest day of my life.

“Your car should be safe out here, now that I’ve mauled you in front of the entire neighborhood.”

“Why is that?”

“Oh you didn’t know?” I duck my head, sliding my open mouth up and down the side of her neck, making her shiver. My hands curl into fists at the small of her back, stopping just short of clutching that ass. Later. “Your boyfriend has a reputation for fighting. And winning.”

Our gazes light on one another at the term boyfriend—and when she doesn’t question it, my blood pumps faster, hotter. With purpose. With fucking joy. “No one messes with you,” she whispers. “And so no one messes with me?”

“That’s right.” I slide my right hand up her back, fisting the long fall of her hair, tugging back her head to expose her throat. Holding her there. Holding her by the hair in plain view of my block like a fucking caveman—and she loves it. Her fingers twist in my shirt, her hips restless, unconsciously rubbing against my stiff cock. “Mine.”

She wets her lips, eyelashes fluttering. “Yes.”

I can’t stop myself from licking my tongue up the smooth contour of her throat. “I want to spend the day playing house with you,” I confess in a voice thick with possessiveness, emotion. This cocktail of new feelings she’s mixed inside of me. “Want to pretend this is never going to end.”

Grace turns her head and catches my mouth in a hard kiss. “Who says it has to?”

With that, she pulls away and I follow her, hypnotized, toward my building, dangerous hope spreading in the center of my chest. Could this be forever, despite the odds against us?

Could I…keep her forever?

* * *

When I letflawless Grace into my apartment, it looks twice as old. Twice as worn.

The cabinets look crooked, the floorboards look extra rotted.

My television is dated. The curtains on the window are left over from the previous tenant, because what the hell do I know about hanging curtains? I’ve cleaned and scrubbed the place to the best of my ability, but in comparison to her glowing skin and expensive clothes, it’s an indoor junkyard.

Grace never loses her smile, though. She sets down her designer purse on my wobbly kitchen table and turns in a circle, surveying the space. “I love the colors you painted the walls.”

“Thanks,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “My sister…I was just trying to brighten the place up for her a little. We don’t get a lot of sunlight in here.”

“You did a great job,” she murmurs. “My entire house is tastefully gray and white. There isn’t a vase out of place. I’m afraid to walk through it sometimes, in case I knock something over.” She shifts in her leather sandals. “I like your place. A lot. It’s comfortable.”

“Some might say it’s a little too comfortable.” I laugh, trying to hide my embarrassment over her seeing my old-ass apartment. “It looks a lot better with you in it.”

Her nipples turn stiff against the front of her shirt and she blushes, dragging her palms down the front of her skirt—and yeah. Christ. We’re not going to make it very long without fucking, are we? I’m barely restraining myself from carrying her to the back bedroom and testing out the warranty on my mattress. We’re only separated by a few feet in my kitchen and all I can do is count the surfaces. The kitchen table, the counter, the wall. Places I can set Grace down and give us the orgasms we’re both obviously in dire need of. Maybe if I come inside of her once, I’ll be able to relax a little?

Yeah right. This is your life now. Walking around with a stiff dick for this girl.

Grace Foster. She called herself mine. What will I get her to say in the dark when she’s jammed full of me, naked, on the edge of coming?

Jesus, I’m an animal.

I’ve got this beautiful, classy girl in my apartment and all I can do is lust after her?

Pull your act together.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure. Anything.”

Nodding, I pour us a couple of sodas, handing one to Grace and watching her lips touch the edge of my glass, memorizing which one it is. We move to the living room and sit down on my couch, watching each other for a few seconds, before giving in. She kicks her shoes off and comes to sit on my lap. I position her sideways, her legs stretched out, head resting on my chest—and I’m positive heaven can’t be any better than this. Holding Grace in my lap. In the silence. The entire day in front of us.

“What happened to working on your sister’s science project?” she asks, her fingers toying with the top button on my polo shirt.

“She’ll be here in a while and we’ll have to get started. I gave her the money to go buy the supplies. But knowing Tulip, she’s probably looking for a poker game to try and double the cash.” My laugh shifts her hair. “My sister is a character.”

“With a name like Tulip, how could she not be?” says Grace, shifting her attention up. “And you’re raising her alone. How did that happen?”

I swallow the knot that forms in my throat. “Gracie, I want you to think the best of me, you know? But the more you find out. About my family, how I live…” I pull her closer, as if to keep her from running. “I’m just worried I’m making it less likely for you to stick around.”

She tilts her head, studying my face.

No judgment. Just purity, honesty. A conduit right to my soul.

“We don’t doubt, remember?” she whispers.

My goddamn heart. It jumps all in. “Right,” I rasp, looking into her blue eyes and falling deeply, irrevocably, obsessively in love with Grace Foster. I’d die for her. I’d kill for her. Those facts write themselves in stone, never to be worn away. “My mother and father were dealers. They dealt right out of this apartment. Drugs, Grace.” Her eyes remain steady on mine, but I can see the shock in their depths. “One afternoon, I came home from school and there was a bunch of strangers in here. My parents were out somewhere, probably making a delivery. And when I walked in, I…someone was trying to convince Tulip to do a line of coke. She was eleven.” My head throbs at the memory. “I knew I had to do something or she’d end up dead. Or abused. I just knew. So I started fighting for cash.”

I can see her doing the math. “You told me Tulip is thirteen now. That means you started fighting when you were…sixteen?”

My nod is brief. “I didn’t want to uproot her completely. She was already going to lose her parents. So I put down a security deposit and first month’s rent for them on the other side of town.” I blow out a breath. “We’ve spent two years dodging social workers. Maybe I should let them help. But I can do it, Gracie. I can get her through high school with a sort of normal life. I won’t let her get pulled into some system.”

“Oh my God, North,” she breathes, cradling the side of my face. “You weren’t exaggerating when you said you had to grow up fast.”

“I know I can’t give her much. I can’t give you much—”

She sits up in my lap, sparks pluming in her eyes. “Look, I can tell…I could tell the second I walked in here that you’re worried about how I’ll see this apartment. You’re worried about money. But look at your selflessness. Your courage. Don’t you realize that character has so much more value than dollars and cents? Your character.”

“I know you believe that, beauty.” I slide my fingers into her hair, tugging her close so I can speak against her temple. “I know you want to believe that. But it gets old, not having options. Living hand to mouth. Character only takes a man so far.”

“Well it takes him all the way with me,” she whispers, slowly picking up one of my hands and placing it on her breast—and the surprise move makes my balls squeeze painfully. Robs me of breath. “And if you don’t think I value character over money, I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Gracie.” I thumb her nipple, gritting my teeth when it quickens into a little bud. “Especially not on your back.”

“I know that,” she says shakily when I tug her top down slightly, just so I can the start of her areolas. “I’m going to get on my back for you of my own free will.”

“Keep talking like that and you’re going to lose your virginity on this couch.”

“When you touch me, it doesn’t matter where I am.”

“Fuck, baby,” I growl, overcome. Head spinning. I turn and throw her down on the cushions, coming down hard on top of her, moaning into her neck when she opens her knees, welcoming my hips into the cradle of her thighs. “You can’t wait, either. You need it.”

She tugs on the hem of my polo, pulling the garment over my head and rendering me shirtless. “This is you. Don’t wear nice shirts for me.”

My lips twitch. “Yes, Gracie.”

Before I can devour her hot fucking mouth, she stops me with a hand on my chest. “I was thinking of something on the drive over.” My need to get inside of this girl is momentarily eclipsed by the need to know everything happening in her head. Every goddamn thing. “You go to school with girls. Don’t you?”

Where is she going with this? “Yeah…it’s co-ed. Public school.”

Her blue eyes cloud over. “Well I don’t like that.”

A disbelieving breath puffs out of me. “Gracie, you’re…you can’t be jealous.”

She pouts at me.

And my dick gets so hard, I worry if I fuck her now, I won’t last two pumps.

This girl is possessive. Of me. I can’t believe it.

I love her putting a claim on me. But I don’t want her jealous. God, no. It burns me alive, her having the slightest bit of that green emotion swimming around in her beautiful head. Obviously I’m never going to stop being jealous over her. Every time a man glances in her direction, I’ll want to rip out his throat with my bare hands. But Gracie isn’t dealing with that shitty feeling on my watch. Not happening.

I lean down and kiss her long and hard. Then I tear myself away, standing and striding to the kitchen, taking a Sharpie out of the drawer and returning to where she now sits up on the couch, all mussed up and horny. “What is that for?”

“Write on me. Write all over me.” I lay down on my back, slapping a hand to my stomach and chest. “Sign your name on everything you own—and beauty, that’s every square inch. That marker won’t wash off. Not for days. And you can trace over it, make it dark again the next time I see you.”

“Really? A-are you sure?”

“Dead sure. Let everyone know.”

She’s already straddling my hips, the warmth of her pussy snuggling down on my cock. When she leans forward to start writing, a smile curling her lips, those tits are halfway out of her tank top, swaying with her every movement. And God, God, if she’s going to be the death of me, I’m going to go so fucking happy.

Before she puts the Sharpie to skin, I cup the back of her head and force her to meet my eyes. “Gracie. You will be the last female I ever touch. You’re the only girl who will ever exist for me. Done deal. Done. It was like that the second I saw you in the Hellmouth. I was yours and you were mine.”

“It was the same for me,” she breathes, writing the word Gracie across my abdomen, then moving to the cuts on my hips, writing mine, don’t touch. With every stroke of the pen, my cock grows harder until I’m stiffer than steel. “Do you want to sign me, too?”

I squeeze her hips, rocking her on my dick and watching her eyes glaze over. “I’m going to leave more than enough marks on you.”

She leans down and whispers against my lips. “Inside and out.”

“Gracie,” I groan, lifting her with a thrust. “It’s time to put it in.”

Her nod is frantic, her fingers clumsy on the fly of my jeans—

The front door of my apartment busts open, smacking off the wall. I go to spring forward to protect Grace, until my brain begins functioning again and I realize there’s no danger. So instead, I drag a hand down my face, cursing the gods of timing.

“Zip your pants up, please,” Tulip calls from the kitchen, plastic bags rustling as she sets them down on the counter. “I don’t need to be scarred for life.”

Grace dives off of me, scurrying to the far end of the couch.

I watch her go like a man who just had his lottery winnings snatched away.

“Oh my God,” she mouths at me, fixing her hair.

“Sorry,” I whisper back, my heart booming over the fact that she obviously wants to make a good impression on my sister.

A moment later, in walks Tulip, sizing up Grace with a sniff. “Are you going to help me get an A on my science project or spend the whole day making out with my brother?”

Grace shoots to her feet, nervously smoothing her skirt. “Science. Let’s, um…” She sticks out her hand for a formal shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Grace.”

Tulip stares at the offered hand like it’s a freshly fallen moon rock, shaking it slowly, peering at Grace a little more closely than before. “You were right. She is beautiful.” She lets go of Grace’s hand and clomps back toward the kitchen. “Let’s hope she can make a homemade battery, too.”

And right there before my eyes, my sex kitten girlfriend goes full nerd, gasping with excitement, smiling at me as she follows me sister into the kitchen, both of them rifling through the supplies and already chatting happily. “I know the exact variables to use,” I hear her say.

Christ, this girl. She’s a goddamn wonder.

I’ll be in love with Grace Foster until the day I die.