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An Ounce of Hope(79)

By:Sophie Jackson


Better indeed.

She pushed the door open, stepped into the room, and opened her arms wide. "Ta-da!"

The last time Max had seen her bedroom, when he'd been hauling all the heavy-ass furniture around for her, Grace's place of sleep had been a blowup mattress on the floor. Now in its place was a wrought-iron framed bed, decorated in a white comforter and stacks of pillows. The fucking thing was huge.

"Wow," he murmured, stepping closer.

"Right? Isn't it awesome?" Grace bounced around the bed to the other side and clambered onto it. She lay down and patted the space next to her. "Here. Try it."

Seeing her on her back all bare arms and legs was a real test of Max's resolve. He cocked his head to the side and lifted a curious eyebrow.

"Oh, stop," she chastised with a smirk. "I just want you to feel it."

Max barked a laugh. "Shit, it's been a long time since I've heard a woman say that to me."

He toed off his shoes and eyed her suspiciously. He pointed to the bed. "Seriously, though, are you propositioning me? Because, I'll be honest, I'm totally fucking fine with that."

"Just shush and lie down."

Relaxing, Max sat down on the bed before swinging his legs onto it. He launched a couple of pillows down to the foot of it so they didn't smother him to death and adjusted himself into a comfortable position: on his back, his hands laced on his stomach. "Damn," he muttered, shuffling a little. "This shit is comfortable."

"I told you," Grace replied, her words laced with smugness. Max turned his head to watch her. "I love it," she added, closing her eyes. "I've never had a huge bed all to myself before."

"Really?"

"Really. I can starfish and no one can stop me."

She moved her arm outward, showing Max how she could starfish like it was her job. Sure enough, even with him next to her in the monster bed, she had room to spread out. Max copied her as she moved her arms and legs, as if they were making snow angels on the duvet, and her hand touched his. They both paused. Grace glanced over at him and gently rubbed Max's pinkie with her own. 

The contact made the ball of desire in his belly twist and the muscle in his jaw tic as he clenched his teeth together. He exhaled heavily and shuffled some more into the ultracomfy bedding, trying to ignore the way the atmosphere around them changed, sharpened, and how it caused his pulse to thunder through his body.

"So I have a question," Grace whispered.

"Shoot."

She moved closer, rolling slowly onto her side, her breath warm on his cheek. "What if I was?"

His eyes slid over to hers, though her focus was on his chest. She watched, seemingly fascinated as it lifted and dropped with the heavy breaths he was taking. "What if you was what?"

Their eyes met gradually and Max's lungs squeezed. "What if I was . . ." She lifted a shoulder. "Propositioning you?"

He stared at her for a beat, dragging air into lungs that were now apparently finding it really fucking hard to do their job. "You teasing me again?" The words sounded ever so slightly bitter off his tongue, which wasn't Max's intention, but, shit, he couldn't cope with another game of look but don't touch. He wanted to touch; he wanted to touch her everywhere.

Grace lifted onto her forearm so that she was above him. "No," she whispered with a gentle shake of her head. "I'm not teasing."





It was as though a vacuum pulled all the air from the room as she spoke. Wordless, Max pushed his head back into the pillows beneath it, making sure that he could see all of her face, trying to detect any hint of dishonesty. As was always the way with Grace, he found none. His gaze traveled over her, starting with her bright eyes, which were always truthful, to her mouth so plump and eager, down to her neck and her fucking awesome chest. "You sure?"

"When you look at me like that?" she breathed. "Yes, I'm sure."

"How am I looking at you?"

"Like you want me."

"I do."

She moved gradually, sitting up. "I know." Max made to sit up with her, but her small hand on his chest pushed him back down. "Stay."

All Max could do was nod. He watched her hand move over his chest and down to his stomach, slow and careful until it reached the hem of his T-shirt. She pulled it up, exposing his skin, which she touched reverently. This was okay, Max thought, breathing deeply. He was prepared for this. She'd done this before.

What she hadn't done before, however, was place those fucking stupendous lips against his stomach and kiss him. Fuck, her mouth was so damned soft. He released a low grunt when she did it again and her mouth moved across his clenched muscles, around his belly button, and up toward his chest, pushing his T-shirt up the farther she went.