Toxic Girl

Chapter Eleven

After telling Anaya the truth, I’m feeling lighter than ever. It’s been a few days since we had our deep and meaningful conversation. We also spoke about Grayson. The man himself walks into class just as I’m thinking about him. He looks at where I’m sitting straight away and walks in my direction. Sitting down in his usual seat, he gives me a small smile.

“Hey,” he says. “Did you finish the assignment?”

I raise an eyebrow. I’ve seen him twice since our last conversation, and each time our short words have been stilted and apologetic. Not to mention awkward.

“Of course I did,” I reply, appreciating the generic question.

He chuckles. “I bet you will ace it too.”

“Did you finish it?” I ask.

“Kind of,” he says, shrugging sheepishly.

I gape. “What do you mean kind of? This makes up for ten percent of our grade!”

He cringes, and then picks up his pen and flicks it between his fingers. “I know. I’ve been a little… distracted,” he says, not looking at me. He looks down and his dark hair falls on his face, covering his eyes from my sight.

“Haven’t we all,” I say under my breath. The lecturer starts talking, interrupting our conversation. I sigh, throwing one last look at Grayson before staring straight ahead.

Grayson trails behind me when class is over. When we walk out to the car park, he reaches out and gently takes my wrist. “I miss you,” he says, rubbing his thumb over my pulse.

“I miss you too,” I admit quietly. I unconsciously step closer, inhaling his scent. He always smells so damn good.

“Have you ever done something you wish you could take back, more than anything, but you can’t? So all you can do is feel sorry for yourself knowing that you, yourself, are the cause of your own misery?”

I take a sharp breath at his words. I nod at him, our eyes connected.

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, when I remain silent. Can I? Can I really judge him when I’ve been hiding something too? If I choose to give this another chance, I need to tell him. Come clean. Hopefully, he will still want me, and we can start over. A clean slate.

“Why did you leave without telling me? Be honest,” I say.

He swallows audibly. “I fucked everything up between us. I thought maybe it would be best if we both moved on from each other. While I was away from you though, I just missed you. You. Your laugh, your smile, your smell. Everything about you, Paris. And I realised something; there is no escaping what’s between us. There is only fixing, because I refuse to let you go.”

“I still don’t understand, Grayson.”

“I’m never going to forgive myself for ruining your first time, but I promise you, I will make it up to you,” he says.

“I suppose I did miss your cooking.” So much for me not giving in. I know I shouldn’t, but I want to. I want him. I guess I’m just a sucker for punishment.

I’m gifted with a slow spreading smile. “I’ll be happy to cook for you tonight, and maybe we could talk.”

“Maybe,” I say softly, feeling lighter.

I get on the back of Grayson’s bike, and we go to his house. Wrapping my arms around him the entire time, feeling the ridges of his abs and my front pressed tight to his back, I don’t for one second regret my decision. It feels so good to have my arms around him again. We walk into his house, and he pulls out a chair for me to sit down on.

Grayson searches the fridge for something to make. “How about toasted sandwiches?” he asks as he scans the lack of groceries.

I hide my grin. “Sounds good to me.”

“I could order something,” he says, glancing over at me.

“Sandwiches are fine,” I tell him, watching as he pulls out the cheese and ham. He makes them quickly and brings them to the table with some orange juice.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he says, his eyes dancing. “I’m turning into a master chef, aren’t I?”

I take a bite. “I don’t know. I don’t think you should quit your day job just yet.”

He smiles, dimples and all. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

After we finish eating, we sit together in the lounge room. A movie plays on the TV, but I’m not paying it any attention. My eyes are solely on Grayson, and his are on me. I swallow hard at the intensity of his gaze, and when he licks his top lip, I can’t help the noise that comes out of my throat.

“You feel it too …” he says so softly, running his hands up and down my thigh. I feel it? I sure feel something right now.

“Grayson--”

“I messed up, but now you’re going to forgive me. We’re too good together for the alternative,” he says, and I gape at his commanding tone. Who does he think he is?

My eyes narrow. “I will forgive you, if and when I decide to.”

He chuckles, actually chuckles. “You’re so beautiful when you’re angry.”

I’m glad he feels that way, because by the looks of things, I’m going to be pissed off a lot when I’m around him. I open my mouth to tell him exactly that when he leans forward and kisses me. He’s playing dirty. There is no way I can resist him, not when he’s right; there is something here between us. Something that draws us to each other. Something worth the gamble.

He pulls back from the kiss, leaving me wanting more. “Let me do it right this time, please.”

My dazed mind takes a few seconds to realise what he said, and by then he’s standing by the couch and picking me up into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on as he carries me into his room, dipping me onto the bed and returning his lips to mine.

Where they belong.

“I missed you,” he says as he pulls back a little, his breath warm and sweet.

“Yeah, well, don’t fuck up again then,” I reply, pulling his face down and kissing him, cutting off his choked laughter at my comment. I slam my head back into the pillow, arching my neck as he trails wet kisses down my throat.

“Hey,” he says, looking down at me. “You sure you want to do this? I can wait—as long as you need.”

“I’m sure,” I reply, sitting up and pulling my top and bra off. I almost laugh at the look on his face. His heavy lidded eyes are the definition of bedroom eyes, dark, deep and sensual.

“So, so beautiful,” he murmurs, and I squirm a little as he licks his top lip, bringing his hands to my breasts, taking their heavy weight. His thumb swipes over one of my nipples, sending a shot of pleasure through me. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into me. He pulls back a little to take off his t-shirt, his muscles rippling with the motion.

So. Fucking. Hot.

His chuckle brings my gaze upwards to his mouth. He tilts his head and gives me a smile. Apparently, I said that out loud.

I all but attack him.

I sit up and capture his lips with mine, my tongue tasting his. His hands wander down my back to my ass, which he squeezes and slaps playfully. “No rush, Paris, we have all night,” he whispers into my ear, sending chills up my spine. He slowly unbuttons my jeans and pulls down the zipper. I lift my hips up and wiggle as he removes them, leaving me in nothing but my black panties. I wish I could say they were lace, instead of plain cotton, but the look in his eyes gives me the confidence I need. Taking his hand, I boldly slide it inside my panties.

“Fuck,” he curses, and I smile in victory as he slides his finger through my wetness, making me gasp in pleasure. Kissing me passionately while his finger works magic, he sucks on my bottom lip, nipping at it before he moves his mouth lower, paying attention to my breasts with his tongue and mouth. I start to pant as he moves even lower, licking down my stomach, past my belly button. I like where this is heading. As he pulls off my panties and his mouth finds my centre, I can feel myself on the edge. I can tell it’s going to be explosive. I curse as the first wave of pleasure hits me, slamming my head back into the pillow and calling out Grayson’s name. He pins down my hips, holding me in place and prolonging my release. When I relax into the mattress, and my thighs stop shaking, he releases me and sits up. He kisses my knee gently and rubs my thigh comfortingly. I sigh when I look up and see the expression on his face.

He looks a whole lot turned on and maybe even a little bit smug. But more than anything, his expression lets me know that there is no place he’d rather be right now.

“I’m going to want to do that, a lot,” he announces, running one hand through his hair.

My lip twitches. “I’m not going to argue with that.”

He grins. “Good.”

I grab the belt of his jeans and pull him so he’s lying on top of me. I can feel the hardness of his arousal through his jeans, causing me to make a humming noise in the back of my throat.

“Take it off,” I command softly. He pulls back and does as I say. As he stands before me naked, I can’t do anything but gape. He is built perfectly, from his toned chest and rippling abs to his narrowed hips and strong thighs.

“How are you real?” I ask, as I sit up on my knees for a closer inspection. Choked laughter is all I get in response. I lick my lips. “Tell me what you like,” I say, lifting my gaze to his. I’m a little nervous, but more than anything—I’m excited. I see his throat work as he swallows. I scoot closer to him. He’s standing at the edge of the bed, so I move off the bed, kneeling on the floor before him.

“Fuck,” he says as he takes in my new position. I can tell he likes it—a hell of a lot. “Babe, are you sure—” he starts, but I cut him off by taking his hardness in my hand and stroking. Then, I lick the head, and suck on it a little, before sliding the length into my mouth.

“Paris… fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses as his hands gently tangle in my hair. “Just like that,” he encourages as I hollow my cheeks and take as much of him in my mouth as I can. I’m enjoying myself when he gently pulls me away, lifts me up, and carries me onto the bed. Now for the finale. Grayson starts chuckling again. I really need to stop voicing my thoughts during sex.

“That turned you on,” he rasps into my ear. He makes an approving sound mixed with a groan.

“What?” I ask breathlessly as he starts to play with my clit.

“You’re dripping wet,” he explains, “all from going down on me. That’s so fucking hot, Paris.” He pulls away from me to grab a condom and slides it on. Then he’s back on me, gently sliding inside me.

“You okay?” he asks in a low husky voice. I can tell he’s holding back, wanting to go gentle and slow.

“Yes I’m fine, just fuck me already,” I say. He stills for a second, letting me adjust to his size before he pulls out and slides back in.

“Not fucking, Paris—never with you,” he says before he kisses me. He pulls back for a moment and our eyes connect. His are full of wonder and lust. The way he looks at me makes me feel like the most precious thing in the world. I hope the look in my eyes lets him know that he’s everything to me, too. I lift my hips up and follow his rhythm as best as I can. Soon I can feel another orgasm cresting, and I dig my nails into his back as I climax. Grayson follows me soon after, his body jerking as he finishes. I stare at his face the whole time, watching the pleasure in his expression. I think I could get addicted to this moment.

“I’m fine, Grayson. Better than fine,” I say quietly, before he can ask me.

“Good. That was amazing, Paris,” he says, gently pushing away the hair on my slightly damp forehead. “The best.”

“I have a great teacher,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows. He rolls his eyes at me, kissing me twice before heading to the bathroom to clean up. When he comes back with a wet cloth to clean me, I’m surprised by the sweet gesture.

“Don’t get all shy on me now,” he says, as I squirm a little while he’s wiping me. I put a pillow over my face, earning me a chuckle. He leaves again, sliding in beside me when he returns seconds later. Pulling me into his arms, I put my head on his chest and my leg on his thigh.

“Guess what,” he says after a few moments.

“What?”

“You just became mine.”

I smile into his chest.