Midnight Heat (Firework Girls #2) (17 page)

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Authors: J. L. White

BOOK: Midnight Heat (Firework Girls #2)

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He opens his eyes and I whisper again, “I love you.”

“I love you, Chloe,” he says tightly, then contracts sharply over me as we both climax together. He drops his weight fully on me and I shudder underneath him, letting my orgasm wash over me. He thrusts sporadically, his hard cock filling me and sending me into a place of pure bliss. We press hard against each other over and over. I fall back heavily as my climax carries me away.

He clutches me to him as we slowly come down together. His hot breath brushes over my ear. My legs drop heavily, too drained to do anything more. I weakly bring one hand to the back of his head and into his hair, lightly caressing him.

He comes up, cradles my face in one hand, and looks at me like I’m a pure wonder. Still panting softly, I give him a dopey smile. “How have I survived twenty-five years without you?” he asks.

I shrug, still smiling but too worn out to be much use.

He laughs lowly and gently rearranges us until I’m nestled in his arms, which are wrapped tightly around me.

I close my eyes and feel my body getting heavier.

“Sleepy, darling?” he asks, gently kissing my forehead.

I nod my head slowly, my eyes still closed. His arms feel so good. He smells so amazing. I love him so much.

My eyes stay closed as he does a bit of reaching. I relax even more as he pulls the soft covers over our intertwined bodies. I feel myself sliding into a satisfying sleep, and do nothing to stop it.

The next morning, I’m pulled out of a warm and cozy sleep when Grayson quietly gets out of the bed. I blink groggily at him as he sneaks into the bathroom and closes the door silently. I indulge in a slow stretch, wishing I could stay in Grayson’s bed forever.

Though, apparently, my bladder will have none of that. My stomach growls for good measure. I look at the clock on the nightstand: ten o’clock. No wonder I’m starving.

I sigh. I have to leave for the airport in five and a half hours. Six maybe. I consider how long it might take me to get through security on a Sunday afternoon and wonder how far I can push it. Six and a half hours?

I hear the shower water turn on.

That’s definitely not helping my bladder.

Still feeling buoyant from another heavenly night of Grayson, I crawl out of bed and find another bathroom. When I’m finished I return to the bedroom, intending to crawl back into bed, but decide to make us breakfast instead. I don’t know what he has in mind for that, but I’m too hungry to wait to find out.

I find my panties, slip on his button-down shirt, and pad barefoot down the stairs and into the kitchen. After acquainting myself with his pantry, I get started on some French toast.

I’m just laying the first pieces in the pan when I hear his voice upstairs.

“Chloe?”

My heart clenches instantly, responding to the faint hint of panic in his voice. God, how could I be so stupid? “I’m here!” I call quickly.

He appears on the landing, a navy blue towel wrapped around his waist. I see the relief on his face before he wipes it away, smiling at me.

“Are you making breakfast?” he asks, coming down the stairs. God, he looks yummy. Maybe I’ll just eat him up instead.

I go to him and meet him at the base of the stairs. “I figured I owe you.”

He pulls me in firmly and gives me a kiss. He looks kind of sheepish and shrugs slightly. “I thought you’d gone,” he confesses quietly.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I say, squeezing him. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“You know, I think you were right about this whole being in love thing,” he says smiling.

“Right about what?”

“It makes you stupid.”

I smile back, but as I think back to the Morning After the Night of Grayson, I grow more serious. His smile fades too, and he watches me, waiting. “You know,” I say quietly, “when I left before, it was because I thought staying with you was the safe thing to do. I thought I’d be letting myself get caught up in a man. And, in a way, it would have been. Back then. I really did
need time to figure myself out and just be me. You know?”

He nods.

“But,” I continue softly, “in some ways,
running away
was the safe thing to do. It was the easy way out. Staying with you, that would’ve been the risk.”

“And you’re feeling ready for that risk now?”

I nod.

“You’re sure?”

I sigh. “I really, really, really don’t want to get on that plane today.”

“Then don’t,” he says, holding my face in his hands. “Stay with me, Chloe. Today,” he kisses me on the nose, “tomorrow,” he kisses me on the forehead, “forever.” He kisses me on the mouth.

I kiss him back, falling and falling and letting Grayson catch me. Because that’s finally the one thing that makes sense.

We pull apart and I look into those stunning blue eyes. My Grayson.

Then I say out loud—and with my whole body and mind and soul—what my heart felt all those months ago.

“Yes,” I say. “I’ll stay.”

The End

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