Midnight Heat (Firework Girls #2) (3 page)

But I did want to argue with it. I did. I didn’t realize just how strong that desire was until I confessed my nearly-forgotten dream to this dreamy stranger.

Just when I thought his raised brows indicated the same disdain Brad had for the idea, Grayson said, “Well that’d be a hell of a lot more interesting, wouldn’t it? Just think, if you were famous, people would pay you to eat the food in their restaurants and you could write your reviews right there on your tablet.”

He nodded as if he approved of the idea more and more. He smiled in such a way I wondered if I needed to hang on to something to keep from kissing him right then. I was losing control of myself a bit, but with a smile like that, he really wasn’t playing fair.

In the middle of all that, I did not fail to notice
what
he was smiling at. My idea. My ridiculous, head-in-the-clouds idea. I found him more desirable for that reason alone.

“Yes,” he said, “that sounds more like a Chloe thing to do.”

I smiled and shrugged, trying not to reveal just how much I really would love to follow my silly dream. “Well, we all have our little fantasies. How many people actually make money blogging about food? A tiny minority. It’s such a shot in the dark.”

“Like YouTubers,” he said.

“Exactly.”

He held his hand in the air for a minute, “Sorry, I should’ve been more clear. That’s me. I’m a YouTuber.”

“You’re a... huh?”

He dropped his hand, still smiling.

“Sorry,” I said, caught off guard. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

He furrowed his brows and laughed. What is it about hearing a person really laugh for the first time that feels so exhilarating and intimate? Like you’re seeing the first glimpse of the real them.

“How did you insult me?”

“Well, you know. The whole struggling to make it to the top of the heap thing.” I’d read about how hard it is to make it to the top as a blogger. I knew vlogging was no different.

“Actually,” he said easily, “it’s how I make my living.”

I blinked at him. He was still smiling. He didn’t look like he was kidding.

I mean, I knew people did this. I knew. But... I’d never met one in person before and... well, I guess never knowing a real live YouTuber made it all seem like a pipe dream.

Wasn’t it?

I leaned in a little closer, my auburn hair sliding over my shoulder. “Really?”

“Is that so strange?” he asked, and laughed again. I smiled. I liked his laugh and wanted more of it, but suddenly I was zoomed in on the topic at hand.

“You really make a living doing that?” I could hear the desire in my own voice.

“Pretty cool, yeah? It’s a lot of work and it took us a while to get it off the ground.”

“Us?”

“Me and my friend Tom. We’re both photographers and started filming how-to videos a couple years ago. Just kind of screwing around. About a year into it we were starting to see some income from ads and decided to go full broke. It took off like crazy a few months after that. Shuttersky Studios. Ever heard of us?”

I shake my head. “Where do you film? What’d you do to market your channel? Do you guys have jobs too or just this?”

“Whoa, one question at a time,” he said, laughing again and looking completely yummy.

If Sam were here she’d say ‘completely fuckable.’ She’d be completely right.

But my attention was divided. I had a million questions. For one shining moment it seemed as if my dream wasn’t so crazy after all, but it was only for a moment. I realized everyone’s definition of ‘making a living’ was different, and for all I knew he and Tom were splitting rent on a crappy apartment somewhere and living off beans and rice.

“We have a studio at Tom’s house,” he said. “Lights, backgrounds, a couple cameras. The whole works. But we’ve started spotlighting other photographers, so sometimes we travel to their studios or shoot outdoors instead.”

Don’t ask me why, but the topic was starting to make me feel uneasy. Scared, maybe. It was too much. This man was living a variation of my own dream. Dreams don’t come true like that for people like me. They just don’t. People like me get to cancel their Almost Weddings, work in cubicles, and spend their paychecks on mortgages they can’t afford and Very Sensible Retirement Funds.

Maybe it was boring. Maybe so. But sometimes you have to be sensible. Being sensible helped me take care of myself and my brother when there was (almost) no one else to do it. I didn’t have the luxury of risky dreams.

I remember very clearly thinking those things in that moment, while Grayson sat across from me talking about an interview they just did with some photographer from Sweden.

I enjoyed his story, but steered the conversation in other directions.

Not that that saved me. No matter what we talked about (our next in-depth topic was fucking global warming, if you can believe that) it was revealing. We were revealing. The sexual draw between us increased as the evening wore on, but so too did the sense that I’d known him forever already and could talk to him about anything.

I even told him about my most mortifying moment in high school. He’d laughed and put his arm around me and made me feel like it was the sort of thing that can happen to anyone. We were sitting close then—his hand on my thigh and my fingers absently playing with the hem of his shirt. He told me about a particularly memorable family holiday gathering when he was a child. I did pity him being the youngest of so many siblings and the target of their malice.

As he talked, part of me thought it was strange the way we were sitting. As if we were lovers already. But it felt so natural.

When he finished with his story, we looked at one another and didn’t say a word for what seemed like forever. It was strangely comfortable, and so intimate for a man I’d just met. Then we kissed the most delectable kiss. I honestly don’t know who leaned in first.

It was tender and almost sweet, the way he softly pressed his lips to mine.

We pulled away slowly, but stayed close as we looked into each other’s eyes. He gave me a soft smile, which I returned.

He gently took my hand and we intertwined our fingers.

“I really love,” he said softly, “how your nose piercing matches your eyes.”

I have a little stud piercing, just above my left nostril, with an azure stone.

“Makes me want to kiss it,” he said quietly.

My smile widened slightly. I liked the idea of him kissing it.

“Just like...” He leaned in, asking.

I tilted my head, granting permission.

He came in and gently placed his lips on the piercing, “...that.” Then he planted a soft kiss on my lips.

He pulled away slightly. We hovered there, close together, and I felt like we were in our own little cocoon apart from the world.

I gave him a crooked smile. “I have a matching one in my belly button.”

I had to laugh at his reaction. He looked like a little kid who’d just been promised a giant candy bar.

“Want to see it?” I asked.

“Uh,
yeah.
”

I smiled and gently untangled my hand from his. I pulled the sheer fabric of my top up to reveal the stud in my navel. It’s bigger than the one in my nose, but the same color.

Not taking his eyes off it, Grayson slowly reached toward it. My skin tingled as his fingertips brushed over my belly button and the piercing.

His eyes darted up to mine. Looking at me then, his fingers brushed my belly button again. My breath shallowed and my whole body went alight.

I leaned toward him slightly.

His hand flattened out as it gently slid over my stomach and around to my side. We leaned into one another. I dropped the fabric of my shirt as we kissed again, his hand still on my bare stomach.

This time we lingered, opening to one another. That first time I tasted Grayson Piers, my insides trembled. As our tongues gently played together, I wrapped my arm around his waist, feeling his firm back for the first time. Our chests pressed lightly against one another.

I don’t know how long we kissed, taking each other slowly, exploring, tasting. It was almost timid, that first lingering kiss with Grayson, but I felt wrapped in a plume of heat, quietly wanting him. But that kiss... it was sweet and perfect and makes my heart sigh remembering.

After we finally broke apart, we continued to talk. We sat with the top of my high-heeled foot pressed against the underside of his leg, his hand on my hip, my breasts touching his chest.

Before long, the evening took a definite turn. I don’t remember much of what we talked about from there. Nothing much, I think. This and that. I do remember we discussed our mutual love for the chocolatier downtown, but only because our comments about the pleasures of sucking on their truffles were thinly-veiled teases about something else entirely.

We kissed again, more than once. Each time, our kisses were a little more urgent and our hands roamed a little more.

By the time he invited me back to his place, I was barely able to keep my cool. Inside I was burning so hot I hardly knew what to do with myself. I was too wrapped up in Grayson to regret that I’d never felt anything like that for Brad or anyone. I was in uncharted territory, that’s for sure.

I followed Grayson’s Mustang in my little Jetta, through the downtown area of Swan Pointe, and eventually up into the residential neighborhoods in the hills.

I remember once thinking,
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
But I kept going.

We pulled up to a gorgeous two-story house on Sinamone Street. I wondered if he had roommates or lived with his parents or something. I didn’t know anyone our age with a house like that. It’s on one of the more desirable ridges in town, with a magnificent view of the city—which glittered with lights—and the ocean beyond.

I pulled into the drive as he turned off his car and waited for me. Taking my hand, we entered the house through the garage. He flipped on the lights to the kitchen, which opened onto the dining and living areas. The far wall was lined with huge windows, presenting a view of the city lights. The soaring ceilings were accented with broad, wooden beams.

“Wow,” I breathed as he set his keys on the counter and headed for the fridge. “I can only imagine the rent on this place.”

A tactless thing to say, I know, but I couldn’t seem to help myself around Grayson. It was like there weren’t any boundaries between us.

He didn’t seem bothered. “I’m not renting. I own it.”

“Ah. Well, that’s good” I said, drifting to the large kitchen island. “A mortgage payment would be less than rent, I would think.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he said distractedly, opening the fridge. “I bought it outright.” My stomach dropped to the floor. “Oh, good,” he said, pulling out a couple beers. “I thought I was out. Want one?”

“Um...”

He owns this place
outright?
That couldn’t be from YouTubing though. Right? Maybe he’s a trust fund brat like Isabella.

He was staring at me, wearing that soft shirt that stretched just perfectly across his pecs.

A sexy, sexy trust fund brat.

Or... maybe he was as successful at YouTubing as he said. I knew such things were possible. You know, in theory. But being five feet from someone who’s doing it made the whole thing seem more... real.

Within reach.

I was dying to ask him if he paid for his house with his earnings but I wouldn’t go that far. I’d said more than I should already.

“Or....” he said, seemingly trying to decipher my expression. “I may have a wine cooler in the fridge in the garage? That’s about it in terms of alcohol. I’m not as stocked as the bar, sorry.” But he smiled. “Or I have water? Tea? Coffee? There’s probably a can of pineapple juice in here somewhere.” Holding the two beers in one hand, he held the refrigerator door open with the other and leaned down, apparently looking for said can of pineapple juice.

I regained my composure and circled the kitchen island. I decided I was being stupid about his financial situation, whatever it was. It wasn’t important and none of my business. Anyway, I figured I should focus on more important things. Like those sexy goddamn abs.

I drew close to him as he straightened up. I took one of the beers from his hand. My fingers brushed his and the jolt from touching him again raced up my arm and into my chest. I hadn’t cooled much during the drive. If anything the opposite had occurred, and I was really just trying not to completely launch myself at him. “This is great. Thank you.”

He looked at me, holding my gaze. If I’d had any doubts about his desire for me, I didn’t have any doubts then. The refrigerator door was still open and I realized we were letting the cold air out. I barely felt it though, I was getting so hot. We both knew why I was there and my body was ready to go. In fact, I was slick with wanting him.

I think I said something about needing a bottle opener, but I’m not sure.

His eyes never left mine. He set his bottle on the island, took mine from my hand, positioned it at an angle next to the counter’s edge, and popped off the cap with one swift tap.

Holding my eyes with a penetrating gaze, he held it out to me. I pursed my lips slightly and gave it a sideways glance, but didn’t take it.

He moved ever so slightly nearer. Inches away. My eyes travelled over his chest, lingering, then came up to meet his gaze.

“You wanted something different?” he asked.

He wasn’t asking about the drink any longer. He wasn’t smiling any longer either. He looked ready to gobble me up. Oh, how I wanted him to.

I placed my hand on his muscular forearm, my heart pounding so hard I wondered if he could hear it. “I could go for something different.”

As his hand circled my waist, my hand slid up the bare skin of his arm. I ran my other hand up his firm chest as our mouths came together, lips slightly apart. When his tongue slid into my mouth it was like lightening. I pressed myself against him. He kicked the refrigerator door closed and set my bottle on the counter with a thud before tightening his embrace.

As our tongues eagerly took each other, his hands moved down to my ass. I pressed my breasts against his chest firmer in response, encouraging him. Our tongues worked together, his hands squeezing my rear and coming around to my breasts. My hands roamed freely as well, over his chest and back and tight ass. I surprised myself when I reached around to the front and found his sizeable bulge, squeezing it in my hand.

He squeezed my breasts even more eagerly. I found the button on his jeans, but struggled to unhook it because our bodies were pressed so tightly against each other.

He broke our kiss as if coming up for air. I got a glimpse of his smoldering eyes before he leaned back enough to release the button and unzip his fly himself. I saw his hard cock straining against the black fabric of his briefs, but only for a moment. He swiftly lifted me onto the counter and I exhaled in surprise. No one had ever set me on a counter like that, and let me tell you, it was fucking hot. He took one of my ample breasts into his hand, bent over and took it into his mouth right through my sheer top.

Exhaling heavily, I wanted his mouth on my bare skin. I leaned back, pulled off my top, and tossed it aside. He leaned down toward my belly button and kissed it before swirling his tongue around the stud. His hands were flat on my back and moving up toward my bra clasp. In seconds my lacy, turquoise bra was sailing through the air as well.

When he moved up to my breast and took my hard nipple into his warm mouth, I groaned and shuddered. God, it had been so long that my skin was super sensitive everywhere. Even so, I’d never been on the receiving end of someone who seemed so
hungry
for me. He was driving me mad.

All of a sudden, I was impatient for him to enter me. His tongue flicked back and forth over my nipple and I boldly wrapped my legs around his waist, unable to hide my wanting. One arm held me tight against him while his free hand massaged my other breast. I was going mad with what he was doing with his tongue. He sucked and pulled and ran his tongue all over my nipple. Every flick and pull resonated in my crotch and I squeezed him tighter against me.

My other breast was aching for equal treatment and, as if he knew, he launched onto that one and sucked it so well I couldn’t help but moan and grind against him shamelessly.

I was cursing my damn jeans and that damn counter. We didn’t line up quite right and I was longing to feel his hard cock against my crotch.

“Grayson—”

He came up and pressed his mouth hard against me. I opened to him and pressed hard back, wanting every part of him.

I fumbled for the button on my jeans but he pushed my hand away. “I want to do it,” he said, his voice deep and husky. He unzipped me and I leaned back on my hands, lifting my hips slightly as he slid my jeans off and let them drop to the floor.

He took in my underwear—the lacey pair that went with my bra—and gave me a ravenous look. I was positively burning. I lifted my hips again and he slid off my underwear, but before I knew where it disappeared to, he bent over and dove between my legs. He took me into his mouth, his rough tongue sliding up my clit, and I cried out, arching my back and grabbing the hair on the back of his head. “Oh god!”

My entire body lit up as his tongue stroked me over and over again. His hands gripped my hips and held me close as I angled even more toward his hungry mouth. I was scandalizing myself, but there was no stopping then, not that I wanted to. In mere seconds I was dangerously close to going over the edge right there on his kitchen island, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want it to be over so soon and I longed to have him inside me. But the waves of pleasure his tongue gave me were so intense I couldn’t make him stop either.

Then it was too late.

My climax took me hard and fast and I arched back, doing my best to stifle my cries. Ripples of pleasure tore through my body again and again as he continued to work my clit. I curled forward as my orgasm reached a high I’d never known before. I grabbed his broad shoulders as my body reached its last, delicious peak. But though I felt the satisfaction of an orgasm, my body didn’t relax and cool as it usually did. I looked down and saw his tongue flicking on my clit, and I was instantly rising again. Wanting him inside me still.

I pulled on his shoulders slightly, letting him know I wanted him to come up to me. He instantly took the hint and left my mound, but lifted me off the counter, carrying me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him. I was pressed against his bare chest, but still not aligned over his cock as I desperately wanted to be.

Feeling unleashed, I hungrily sucked on his neck and the back of his ear. When he groaned, I felt the sound of his voice reverberate over my body. He didn’t take me to a bedroom, as I expected. Instead we went into the darkened living room and he set me on the lounge. I leaned all the way back, perfectly exposed, as he straightened up. He pulled a wallet from his back pocket, extracted a condom in gold foil, and held the corner of the packet between his teeth so he could finish undressing. I marveled that he made even this look sexy.

He pulled his jeans and briefs down to the floor in one smooth motion. His hard cock was so erect it was nearly flush against his pelvis. I sprung up at the sight of it and shocked myself even further by grabbing the base of his cock before he could do anything else. Scooting to the edge of my seat, I took his warm shaft into my mouth.

He groaned and grabbed the hair on the back of my head. “Oh, Chloe.” My name on his lips sounded so good, I was determined to hear it again. I slid his shaft deep into my mouth, then sucked on it as I slowly drew it out. I finished by teasing the cleft at the head of his cock with my tongue. He groaned again, rewarding me with a “God, Chloe.”

I’d done my share of fellatio in my time but I felt possessed in a way that was new to me. As I dove deep again, feeling his hardness strain even more, I sensed I was enjoying it as much as he was. Driven by instincts I didn’t know I had, I fucked his cock until I was so wet and throbbing I almost couldn’t stand it. “I want you,” he said huskily.

I went down on him faster and harder, enjoying his groans, then pulled away and leaned back on the lounge. He tore open the package and slid the condom over his shaft with one smooth stroke. He came down on top of me and I hooked my heels around his thighs. I felt his cock at my opening.

Again, that voice in my head:
I can’t believe I’m doing this.

But it wasn’t only shock at my own boldness, though it was that. It was wonder. At him.

Our eyes met and my heart was pounding as he looked right into me. My heart was aching for him as much as my body was. He did not deny me. As his cock slid inside me at last, we gasped together. He plunged his tongue into my mouth as he dove deep inside me. Our mouths broke apart as I curled around him, my nose against his neck as his cock thrust into me over and over again. I was so hot and wet I was already nearing another orgasm. He hardened further and I spread myself wider, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

He lifted up slightly and we kissed again, his mouth firm against me as he lowered back down and let his full weight press on me as we took each other greedily. I reached both hands toward his tight ass as he worked me into a frenzy. My entire body pulsed with pleasure and I tightened around his cock as I climbed higher and higher.

I arched my head back and he sucked on my neck, groaning. He grew harder still and changed the angle he was coming at me. Suddenly he hit a tender spot inside me and I exploded with pleasure. Stunned, I cried out as he hit it again. And again. Intense pleasure rippled outward from that spot and I squeezed him tighter than a vice. In three and a half years with Brad, it was never like this.

Only a few more pulses of his cock against that spot and I was sent careening over the edge in an orgasm that topped even the last one. Forceful waves wracked my body and my blood rushed through my ears. As I thrashed helplessly beneath him, his rock hard cock sent me even higher. His thrusts grew faster and more intense until at last he moaned loudly in my ear. He thrust into me sporadically and forcefully as we came together.

After what seemed an impossibly long time, my orgasm finally released me and began to subside. His movements within me began to slow. More gentle waves of pleasure washed over me and I sank back into the couch. Still tingling, I angled my hips, wanting him to press against me, which he did, firmly. He tucked his head down and his hot breaths warmed the crook of my neck. We pressed against each other, the last bits of pleasure anchoring into my body.

He pulled up onto his elbow, looked me deep in the eye, and thrust into me suddenly and hard. I arched my head back and closed my eyes as his thrust sent a tingling wave of sensation all over my body.