Page 148 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
We don’t move.
We just accept what has happened without ever exchanging a single word.
We absorb the moment and the weight of it.
That I’m here. In his house. Willing to trust him again.
We can barely see each other’s eyes in the darkness, and yet, I can tell how emotionally drained he is from tonight and how emotionally stripped he is for me.
Without preamble or pretext, he makes the first move when he steps forward and pulls me into his arms. And just like that, we cling to each other as if we can’t get close enough.
“Grant, I—”
“Shh,” he says right before slanting his lips over mine. “Please.” Another brush of a kiss. “I just need you, Em. Now. Here. All of you.”
His lips are on mine again. It’s the same man kissing me, but it feels so very different this time around. Something has shifted between us, changing us intrinsically without changing us at all.
It’s just him. And me.
No past.
No future.
Just the moment.
I get lost in his kiss. In the feel of his skin and the taste on his tongue. In the unspoken need and unchecked desire.
We don’t walk to the bedroom. We remove our clothes in subtle movements, as if we’re afraid to ruin the magnitude of the moment, and lower ourselves to the rug.
We react in sighs and moans.
We feel in emotions.
We revel in the connection.
We make love for the first time.
I watch him.
The sun is barely peeking over the horizon, but I can’t sleep.
And haven’t been able to.
My mind won’t shut off. I try to process everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours.
I see Keely and the terrified look on her face and wonder if she slept last night. Did she have nightmares? Was she scared of the dark? Will someone show up today and make sure she’s okay? In ten days? In six months?
I try to come to terms with the fact that the whole reason I came to Sunnyville is now gone. I wonder what I should do next. If I should let the wind blow me wherever it wishes.
But there’s Grant.
I attempt to wrap my head around how I feel about the man snoring softly beside me. I itch to reach out and touch him, make sure the mix of emotions I feel are real, but if they’re not, I don’t want to ruin them with reality. They’re scary and euphoric and I don’t think I’m built to handle this.
I revel in how it felt last night to make love to him. To feeling closer to him than I’ve ever felt before without us having to utter a single word. To moving from the floor to the bed where he gathered me in his arms and didn’t let go. To how it took well over an hour for his breathing to even out while I wondered what he could possibly be thinking about.
The clock tells me I need to get to work, my first class is coming in just over two hours, but when I pull open the covers, he reaches out and tugs me against him, my back to his front.
“Uh-uh,” he murmurs as the heat of his body warms me in more ways than one.
