Chapter 18

chapter eighteen

Grant

Things I should currently not be doing:

Thinking about my wife in the shower, naked and soapy.

Number one again.

Groaning, I drop my head back against the couch cushion and adjust my rising cock in my gym shorts.

Again .

I'm fucked, and I'm only now beginning to realize just how badly.

I told Addie I'd come to bed later because I wanted to watch game highlights, but the truth is, I'm trying to get my shit together. Ever since that damn kiss, then spending the entire night with her in my lap, I've been attempting to direct my thoughts back to safe territory.

Usually, I'm the kinda guy with an abundance of control, but when it comes to her… I feel that control fraying until there's virtually nothing left.

Which is why when she went to shower and go to bed, I opted to stay on the couch with Auggie, blankly staring at the TV in hopes that I could focus on something other than the thought of her sweet little ass squirming on my lap. And the taste of her pouty lips.

Clearly, that plan is fucked because it's the only thing I've been able to think about.

I reach for my phone and open the text thread with Reese and Lane. They've unsurprisingly been texting nonstop since I called them both out of the blue to drop the bomb that I got married… to a girl they've never met.

Reese: I'm gone for like a second, and Grant gets fucking married. Without us. And invited fucking Davis to be his best man? I don't think I'll ever recover from this type of betrayal.

Lane: I'm just annoyed that I wasn't the first one to get married.

Reese: Even Boo is offended that she wasn't invited to her uncle's wedding. We could have dressed her up to be the flower girl.

Reese: SMH

I ignore the messages and quickly type out what's been on my mind for the night.

Grant: I think I might be fucked.

Reese: And you think that…why? I was just kidding dude. I'll forgive your shotgun wedding. You know you'll always be my bestie.

Lane: *eye roll* What happened?

My fingers hover over the screen for only a second.

Grant: I want to fuck my wife.

Grant: Clearly, this was not part of the plan.

Reese: Not really seeing a problem here?

Lane: For fuck's sake Reese. The problem is that this is supposed to be a mutually beneficial arrangement between the two of them. Which means he's supposed to be keeping his hands to himself.

Grant: Exactly, and since that seems to be becoming a problem, I'm realizing that I might be really fucking fucked.

Reese: Why can't you just… Idk, have a "friends with benefits" kind of thing?

Lane: Because that shit always complicates things.

Reese: Yeah, well what's wrong with a little complication? That worked out for you and Hallie. And, look how great Viv and I turned out.

Grant: Subjective.

Reese: Shut up. All I'm saying is if you want her, then go for it.

Lane: Possibly the worst advice in history. But, then again, Grant's usually the one giving the advice so…

Before I can respond to their messages, there's a loud thud against the bedroom wall that causes me to freeze. My brows pinch as I glance up at the door, wondering what happened.

Shit, what if Addie slipped in the shower? Immediately, I'm on edge, listening for any sign of distress. And then… a few seconds later, it happens again. And then… again.

I toss my phone down onto the cushion and jog over to the closed bedroom door, pressing my ear against it and listening intently. I feel like a creep, but I just want to make sure she's okay and doesn't need me.

It's not like we aren't technically sharing the bedroom now anyway.

But when I hear Addie's strangled voice crying out my name for help, I don't hesitate for even a moment.

I wrench the door open and burst inside, skidding to a complete halt when I see her sprawled out on the bed, her soft blonde hair spread around her like a halo, wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt that falls around her hips. Hips that are writhing on the pillow stuffed between her legs. She lets out a frustrated sigh and groans, still not realizing I'm even here.

Motherfucking god.

Is…

Suddenly, Addie stills, her eyes popping open, revealing pools of inky blue as they notice me in the dim light of the lamp.

" G-Grant ? Oh my g—" Her voice is low and hoarse, barely recognizable as she yelps, then scrambles to jerk the blanket over her. "I… I…"

Sweet, innocent Addie was… getting herself off. In my bed.

And she said my fucking name as she did it.

I'm frozen in place, my feet glued to the floor as if they've become a permanent fixture on the hardwood. I should look away, or… I don't know, leave, but I can't seem to bring myself to do it. Not when I know that it was my name she was saying as she was trying to make herself come.

"Addie…" I murmur hoarsely. "I thought something was wrong. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

I trail off when she disappears beneath the covers, pulling the comforter up so high it covers the top of her head. Walking around the foot of the bed, I sit at the edge of the mattress, gently pulling down the covers to reveal her pretty face. Her cheeks are bright red as she squeezes her eyes shut tightly, avoiding looking at me at all.

"I shouldn't have busted in without knocking. I'm sorry, I just… I was worried and thought you needed me."

She groans, bringing her hands to her face, hiding from me further behind her slender fingers. Something I know she does when she's really embarrassed, but she shouldn't be. If only she knew how fucking hard it makes me to think about her touching herself… thinking of me . I wish she knew how beautiful she looks right now, with her cheeks flushed and her chest still heaving from exertion. So beautiful it makes me physically ache with the need to touch her.

Maybe then she wouldn't question herself for a second longer.

Which is why I decide to not hold back. I say exactly what I'm thinking, consequences be damned.

"What do you need, Addie?" My voice is so husky it surprises even me.

Her body tenses as she drops her hands from her face, peering up at me with hesitant eyes. "W-what do you mean?"

"What were you doing when I walked in?"

I watch as her throat works and her nostrils flare as she sucks in a shaky breath, holding my gaze on her steadily. I already know what she was doing, but I want to hear it from her mouth. I want her to tell me that she was trying to make herself come with my name on her lips.

I need to hear her say it.

"You don't have to be embarrassed or ashamed of anything with me, Addie. Ever." My voice comes out rougher than I intended as my hands ball into fists to stop myself from reaching for her.

After what feels like the longest stretch of time, she finally nods. She pulls her lip between her teeth before blurting out, "I… was… touching myself."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I can feel my dick throbbing to the same beat as my heart. She's not even touched me, but the mental image of her fingers exploring her body with thoughts of me is enough to have my dick straining painfully against the fabric of my gym shorts.

The blush on her cheeks spreads lower until her pinkened skin disappears beneath the collar of the T-shirt, and she ducks her head. "I'm so embarrassed."

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about." I reach out, dragging my fingers along her cheeks and brushing her hair back from her face as her gaze snaps to mine. "Not a fucking thing, Addie. I heard you… call out my name."

She gazes up at me with doe-like eyes, "Y-you did?"

"Yeah, baby, I did," I rasp darkly. "Do you have any idea how fucking crazy it made me hearing that?"

Her face softens with a shy smile when I call her baby, and I realize how much she likes the endearment, and I make a mental note to call her that again. As we stare at each other, her pupils expand, turning hazy and unfocused, darkening, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. It's the only confirmation I need to continue.

I know this is probably crossing a hundred different lines that we created, but right now, I don't have it in me to give a single fuck about it.

"That sweet, frustrated little sigh you made was almost enough to bring me to my knees. Tell me why you were so frustrated?"

Silence meets my question, but her gaze holds mine. I can see the moment she lifts her chin and decides to put it out there. All of it.

"I can't… By myself. I…" She swallows, pulling in a ragged breath. "I can't make myself…"

"Come?" I supply for her.

She bites her lip and nods. "It's… Sorry, it's so humiliating to say that out loud. I can't even make myself… finish."

Unable to stop myself, I reach out and run my fingers softly along her jaw before cradling it in my palm. "That's why you had the pillow?"

Never in my life have I wanted to be a fucking pillow. Until now.

"I thought it might work this time since I've been…" She trails off, tearing her gaze away and dropping it to the chipped yellow paint on her nails.

I tip her chin up, dragging her attention back to me. "Been what , Addie?"

"Turned on," she stutters quietly as her gaze lingers on mine. "All… day."

I spent the entire night trying to think about anything other than the feel of her in my lap, the taste of her on my lips, and she was feeling the same thing, fighting the same battle and failing.

I know I shouldn't… but I can't stop myself from dipping my head down to her mouth. I brush my lips gently along hers, pausing when I feel her breath hitch. "Tell me what it feels like." Pulling back, I stare down at her, drinking in her blown pupils, wide eyes, and those pretty pink, parted lips.

She swallows visibly, lifting her hand to trace the curve of my jaw. Her fingers tremble as they ghost along my skin, and a shiver runs down my spine.

"It… aches. Like something is pulled tight inside of me that I can't unravel." She murmurs so quietly that I almost miss it, even being only a breath away from her lips. I can feel her panting, her breath fanning along my mouth as her chest moves in rapid succession.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to hold back the ragged, feral fucking groan that threatens to erupt from somewhere deep inside my chest.

My wife is aching.

"It's my job to take care of my wife ," I rasp, brushing my lips against hers. The barest touch that has us both breathing heavily and her fingers digging into the bare skin of my arms. "I took vows. And… I take my vows very seriously," I continue, never taking my eyes off her.

Another nod, and then she breathes, "V-very. Grant, would… you… touch me?"

This time, I can't stop the groan, the noise low and deep vibrating from the back of my throat, as I drop my forehead against hers and squeeze my eyes tightly shut. "I want to so fucking bad, baby. You have no goddamn idea how badly I want to touch you… I just… I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of the situation."

I feel her shaking her head, and when I pull back, the serious expression on her face has me momentarily sobering. "You're not. I want you to, Grant. Nothing in my life has ever just been mine. I want this moment… to be mine . I want to be the one in control. I want to be the one to decide."

Fuck. My throat is tight with need as a mixture of emotion and desire flickers in her eyes.

Who am I to deny my wife? Especially when I want her more than I need to fucking breathe.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

A beat passes, and she nods. "Yes. I just… Could we go slow? With, you know…?"

Even as she tells me she's sure, I hear the vulnerability in her words, the tremble in her voice from nerves. I know she's never done this with a guy before, so I know this is a huge fucking deal to her, and the fact that I'm the one she feels comfortable enough to experience it with has my chest swelling, my heart beating faster than it ever has in my life.

"I know this is fake and we're only pretending…" she adds before I can respond to her question, and I stop her.

"It's not all fake. We're attracted to each other, Addie. We've got chemistry off the fucking charts. I think that much is clear. If we're going to be married, sleeping in the same bed, living our lives together… why can't we explore something physical between us? If that's what you wanted and were comfortable with, then I want that with you too."

"I do," she murmurs breathlessly. "Want this."

"Then let me take care of you." My knee hits the edge of the bed as I slide in beside her, turning to my side. Her back to my front, we're so close I can feel the heat from her body. The oversized T-shirt she's wearing has ridden up, exposing her thighs and the curve of her hip. "I need you to do something for me, baby," I breathe quietly near her ear before slowly dragging my nose down her neck. "Don't think. Close your eyes and trust your husband . Can you do that?"

I hook my arm around her waist when she nods, her eyes fluttering closed as I tug her back until she's fitted against my front.

Of course she fits perfectly, as if there was ever the chance that she wouldn't. She fits me like she was made for me, and I have to swallow down the tight knot of raw need settling in the base of my throat that's making it hard to breathe.

I remind myself that we're going slow and moving at Addie's pace. That this is not only her learning her own body but getting comfortable with someone else touching her.

I'd wait forever if she needed me to. Because she's worth it.

I never imagined I'd have the privilege of touching her, no expectations that we'd ever do anything like this.

But somehow, I'm the luckiest fucking guy in the world given permission to do so.

I press my lips along the sensitive spot beneath her ear, a searing kiss along the juncture of her neck and shoulder, one along her nape. She shivers, a needy whimper falling from her lips as she arches, pushing back against me.

"Tell me if you want to stop. At any time," I murmur against her skin.

Her head shakes. "Don't s-stop. Please."

I slide my palm beneath the worn fabric of her T-shirt, trailing the calloused pads of my fingers up the soft skin of her stomach until they ghost along her rib cage. I want to spend the rest of the night learning every inch of her, memorizing every curve of her body, every dip of her creamy skin. Learning what she tastes like, what she feels like as I move inside of her, the sounds she makes when she's on the edge of an orgasm.

But this isn't about my pleasure. It's about hers.

Sliding my hand over the top of hers, I slowly drag them lower until we reach the elastic band of her pale pink panties. They're simple, cotton, and not meant to be sexy. Yet, on her, they are, somehow innocent and erotic at the same time.

When I dip her fingers beneath the waistband, I pause before continuing. "Keep going?"

She nods breathlessly. "Please."

I drag her hand lower, torturously slow, until she sucks in a shaky breath. Her entire body goes taut as her fingers brush along her clit. Even with her hand beneath mine, I can feel the heat from her pussy on my fingers, and I bite back a groan when I feel how wet she already is.

Fuck me.

She's completely drenched, and I want to crawl between her thighs and suck on her clit until her cum's dripping down my chin. As badly as I want to taste her, I want even more for her to know that she's the one in control and that she can bring herself to orgasm.

I press the pad of her middle finger gently against her clit, inciting a surprised whimper that has arousal jolting through me.

It's the sweetest fucking sound I've ever heard, and I want to be the reason she does it over and over again.

Together, we circle her clit slowly, my movements controlled and purposeful as her head falls back against my shoulder and her lips part on a sigh.

"Just like that," I praise. "There's no rush, baby. Take your time, let it build."

I continue to move her fingers in slow, languid circles, even when her hips begin to writhe, trying to speed things up. Instead, I drag my tongue along the flutter of her pulse and gently nip at her skin while keeping a steady pace, drawing out her pleasure.

Her breathing turns choppy, a sharper intake with each strum of her fingers, her body telling me everything I need to know.

"I…" She pants, squeezing her eyes shut. "Grant…"

Our fingers are coated in her arousal as she begins to pant, the neediest little breaths that have me gritting my teeth in restraint.

Goddamnit, she's a dream. An actual fucking dream, and she feels like mine.

Her hips rock against our fingers, chasing the feeling that has her muscles coiling and her body pulling taut.

I press my lips against her neck, my other hand curling into her hair as a strangled breath rolls off her lips.

"I… I can't-t."

I move her fingers faster, adding more pressure to her clit. "How does it feel, baby? Making yourself come while your husband watches, like a good little wife?"

I don't know if it's that she finally allows herself to let go, if she's finally shut her brain off long enough for her pleasure to take over, or if it's the words I whispered in her ear that do it, but her thighs slam together, her back arches, and she cries out loudly as she comes.

"Grant."

My name is whispered like a prayer from lips that are worthy of divine worship. I'd fall to my knees for her. She draws out my name as her orgasm powers through her, hips writhing with the slowing motion of our fingers along her sensitive clit. Her thighs tremble, and my gaze never leaves her, never falters.

I'm cataloging every breath, every whimper, every moan. Memorizing the feeling of being curved around her, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon surrounding us and making me dizzy.

Gently, I pull my fingers back, resting them along the flat expanse of her lower stomach. I don't want to move a fucking muscle. I want to savor every second of what she just trusted me with.

"Um…" She finally finds her voice, raspy and hoarse from her climax.

"Are you okay?" I murmur.

She nods languidly against my shoulder, sinking further against me. "Yes. I… was I okay? Was I?—"

I use my flattened palm to pull her closer to me, burying my face in the spot between her shoulder and neck, planting my lips softly along her heated skin.

"You're perfect. Every single thing about you."

Gently, she turns toward me, peering over her shoulder. "But what about… you?"

My dick has possibly never been so hard in my life. If she moves and brushes her ass against me again, I may actually come in my pants… but this isn't about me.

It never was. It was always about her.

"I'm good, baby. This was about you and only you," I reply simply.

Her gaze lingers on mine for a beat before she nods, then gently turns in my arms until her head is pressed against my chest.

"Thank you. Not just for… that, but for helping me feel comfortable and safe. I-I wouldn't have ever wanted that moment with anyone else."

The sincere tone of her voice washes over me, and I tighten my arms around her, pressing my lips to her hair. "Always."

It doesn't take long for her breathing to slow and her body to go slack as she drifts off to sleep against my chest. I should probably get up, move to my side of the bed. Do anything but hold my sleeping wife in my arms, thinking of how good it feels to do something that blurs the lines between us. That complicates everything.

But I don't. Because nothing has ever felt right the way that Addie does.