Rm w/a Vu(102)

I narrow my eyes playfully, picking up some cantaloupe and having a bite. Then I smile and hold the remaining half out to him. Instead of taking it from me, he wraps his lips around the orange fruit, his tongue lapping at the juice dripping down my fingers. I try really hard to keep from blacking out and attempt to change the subject. Instead, I yawn. It’s not even that late, and yet I’m completely wiped out.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, covering my mouth.

Smiling his understanding, Greyston holds out the plate, silently offering me the last slice of Honeydew. I decline with the shake of my head, and he slips it into his mouth before putting the plate in the dishwasher. “We should get some sleep.”

“Greyston, it’s barely even eight,” I argue half-heartedly.

“I know, but it’s been a long day. I’m beat from my flight and paintball, and I’m pretty sure my ability to bestow multiple orgasms on you has exhausted you.” He smirks, and I laugh. Loudly. “Besides, I have to be up early to go over Xander’s contracts with him at the office.”

I’m too tired to argue, especially since the thought of falling into a nice warm bed sounds heavenly. Greyston takes my hand and pulls me from my chair and out of the kitchen. Soon we’re in the hall between our rooms, and Greyston turns to me. “Any preference?”

I shake my head. “Not really. As long as there’s a bed.”

Kissing me once, Greyston leads me to his room and ushers me into bed before joining me. Warmth surrounds me as he presses his body to mine, draping his arm over me and holding me close. He presses a soft kiss to the back of my neck before we say our goodnights, and soon we’re both fast asleep.



Greyston leaves before eight in the morning, waking me only long enough to kiss me and tell me he’ll call when he’s on his way home. I promptly fall back asleep, waking a couple hours later refreshed and ready to face the day.

After brushing my teeth and hair, I do a bit of house cleaning. Okay…so it’s not the house, per say, that needs to be cleaned so much as Greyston’s bedroom. Who knew that two people being reunited after only a couple of days could wreak such havoc? At first, I think it’s just our scattered clothes that are the issue, but when I pick up my pants, I find that the lamp on one of the bedside tables had been knocked over and broken. The memory of it falling comes back to me, and I smile.

“Whoops,” I whisper, not really feeling remorse for the fallen accessory. I grab my phone from the back pocket of my jeans and take a picture to send to Greyston. After setting my phone down, I begin carefully picking up shards of glass and ceramic and toss them in my wastebasket.

I abandon the lamp pieces when my phone buzzes on the table, and I literally laugh out loud as I read Greyston’s response.



Falling back onto my heels, I reply, smiling wide the entire time.



Setting my phone on the floor next to me, I pick up a few more pieces before Greyston responds.



I laugh again—really loud and extremely unladylike; it’s probably a good thing I’m completely alone in the house.



I make the bed next, remembering as I smooth the blanket how my hands clutched at it, drawing it toward my body as pleasure vibrated all the way down to my bones. A warm tingle spreads through me, making me shiver. Thinking about how his tongue felt against my heated flesh leaves me somewhat breathless, and I have to shift on my knees to ease the pulsing between my legs that seems to increase with each passing second.

The more I think about the events of yesterday, the more I begin to wonder if Greyston will expect a little reciprocity in that department. It’s not that I’m necessarily against the idea, but I’ve never done it—not for lack of Ben trying, mind you. He tried. And he tried. And he tried. He even threatened to stop doing me this “favor,” and I had to contain the urge to laugh in his face and tell him I was more than okay with that. Much to my dismay, he didn’t remain true to his word—which actually doesn’t surprise me now; he was probably still holding out hope I’d eventually cave. I still held firm in my decision not to return the “favor,” though, and just wished for our time between the sheets to be over.

But Greyston? Yeah, I could probably give it a shot for him.

Resolute with my plan, I finish cleaning up the bedroom, discarding the shards of glass and ceramic in the outside trash bin before running back up to my room and firing up my computer. I know I don’t have a lot of time before Greyston returns home. I can only imagine that the level of humiliation for being caught looking up how to give my boyfriend a proper blow-job would easily trump my parents walking in on Greyston and me two weeks ago.