Fragments of gray, p.18
Fragments of Gray, page 18
“Didn’t do shit.”
My attention drifts back to the group. A sense of nostalgia for something I’ve never had settled heavy in my core.
“Let’s make up for our awful birthdays,” Gray says as if he had felt the same thing I did. Before I can respond, my hand gets tugged as he leads the way, walking us toward the bar.
My lips pull at either side, grinning ear to ear as we make our way inside. It smells of alcohol and sweat, and I can barely hear myself think over the thumping bass and people shouting.
There’s a single barstool open, and Grayson quickly guides me to sit down before anyone else can.
Standing directly behind me, his hands find my waist in a gentle hold. Bringing his lips to my ear, he says, “Let’s see how wild my girl can be with a couple of drinks in her.”
My heart soars when he calls me his. “I’m just as curious as you are.”
Even though I won’t get wasted because I still have to make it back home, I’m still wondering what I’d be like with one or two drinks in me.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks me, loudly speaking over the music.
“Something fruity and sweet.”
“And for you?” she asks Grayson.
“The opposite.”
We flash her our IDs, and she nods, making our drinks in the blink of an eye. Within seconds, two different drinks appear in tall glasses in front of us.
“Here’s to our twenty-first,” Gray says, lifting up his drink to clink mine.
“It’s your twenty-first birthday!?” a sloppily drunk woman shouts into my ear, making it ring.
“Yep. The both of us are celebrating,” Grayson replies.
“Oh my god! Let’s do shots!” she exclaims, then gathers round her group of friends. “We’re doing shots with them.” She points to us. “It’s their twenty-first!”
There’s a sudden roar of excitement, and I glance up at Grayson with a rush of exhilaration. “Guess we’re doing shots.”
The bartender gets waved down, and the woman orders all of us tequila. Before I can drink my fruity cocktail, I’m holding a shot glass with clear liquid that has a scent strong enough to burn the inside of my nose.
“Happy fucking birthday, you two!” she shouts.
Grayson chuckles next to me, and all of us clink our glasses together, then tip back the alcohol letting it scorch our insides.
Coughing, I sip on my original drink to get some relief.
“That shit’s strong!” Gray states, doing the same with his drink.
“Let’s do another!” the woman exclaims.
I turn my line of sight to look up at Grayson, who’s looking directly back at me. “Wanna do one more?” I ask.
“It’s our birthday, might as well.” He winks.
With that, another shot glass of tequila gets thrown our way. We down it, coughing like we did just before and quickly inhale our original drinks.
The alcohol bursts through my veins, warming me up and loosening my muscles.
Lightness flows through me, and I think it does the same to Grayson because his fingertips run over the space between my shoulder blades, touching both the cotton fabric of my dress and the exposed part of my skin.
I know I shouldn’t have much more to drink, but the thought of celebrating my fake twenty-first with Grayson makes me forget about everything else.
And I’m one hundred percent fine with that.
Grayson bursts into laughter as we trip and stumble our way out of our third bar. The boardwalk is spinning, the lights from all the rides blur together. I can barely think straight—but god, is it fun!
Giggles keep escaping my lips. I don’t know how many times we’ve told people about our birthdays and how many shots we’ve gotten in return—I’ve lost track of everything.
“Did I tell you how hot you look in this dress?” Gray slurs.
My cheeks lift higher. “Only about a hundred times.”
Okay, I lied. I didn’t lose track of everything. But aside from Gray’s compliments, everything else has gone out the window.
Strolling along, gently knocking into each other as we struggle to walk in a straight line, he pulls me away from the bars and the noise, and over to a row of benches. He crashes down on one, coming to a sloppy seated position as he holds his hand to his head.
“Fuck. Everything’s spinning.”
Collapsing onto his lap, I chuckle, knowing exactly what he means because I’m pretty sure there are five of him right now.
“How’d you like your twenty-first?” he asks, trying to focus his gaze on my face.
“I’d say this is my favorite one.”
“Same.” His lips curl upward, and the expression in his bloodshot eyes turns soft and dreamy, making my heart sing. “You make it hurt less,” he says in a low voice as if I were part of the conversation in his mind.
My head tilts. “Make what hurt less?”
“Life.”
My fingers find the neckline of his shirt, toying with the fabric. “You make my life hurt less, too,” I whisper.
The words float into the air and out to sea. Words that I’ve never thought would tell anyone. Words that are sealed with a deeper meaning behind them. And Grayson now knows that.
He tugs me closer, planting his lips on mine. The potent taste of tequila mixed with whatever bitter alcohol he had dances along my tongue, getting me drunk off of him.
I shift my position, knees on either side of his legs, straddling him. My hands get lost in his thick, dark hair while his roam my body.
Everything melts away.
The people.
The places.
The sounds.
It’s just me and him. The only two in existence as our bodies press up against one another.
The bulge in his jeans is hitting just the right spot. My wasted, unfiltered thoughts begin to peek through as I slightly break contact, my lips hovering over his. “What were you thinking about when you were jerking off to me?” I ask, recalling the time I caught him in the shower.
“Which time?”
“You’ve done it more than once?”
He laughs as if the question is ridiculous. “Have I jerked off to the thought of your tight pussy taking my cock on more than one occasion? Of fucking course, Emma.”
My body flushes and I shift my hips over him, his jeans running over my clit once more. I shudder at the sensation.
Grayson leisurely trails his hands up my thighs, skimming over the hem of my dress, as he continues speaking. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I laid eyes on you. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.”
“What do you want to do to me?” The seductive tone in my voice causes him to smirk.
“Is my bad girl coming out to play again?”
A blaze of fire surges through me.
Whenever he calls me that, I awaken.
With Gray, I’m free to step out of the confines that I’ve been pressured into and get to explore another side of me.
Biting down on my bottom lip, I nod in response.
Once he has the green light, his fingers dip under my dress, eagerly pushing my panties aside.
“Fuck, you’re already soaked.” His voice is deep as he runs his fingertips over my slit.
Stifling a moan, I bring my lips to meet his neck, sucking on his skin to keep myself from making noise.
“Talking about me getting off to you turns you on this much?” Gray asks.
I nod. “And when you call me your bad girl,” I whisper the words against the shell of his ear.
He pushes two fingers inside me, and I gasp, clutching onto him. My head is dizzied from the alluring blend of alcohol and Grayson that’s coursing through my veins.
“Ride my fingers, Red.”
Drunk with lust, I slowly rock my hips. My eyes roll backward as he meets movements, the heel of his palm rubbing my clit.
Tingles fly around my insides, my muscles growing tense.
Just then, a loud group of inebriated people pass by, heading to another bar. Although I’m still moving, I’m immediately aware that we’re not alone or in a private place by any means.
But I don’t stop.
Blame it on the shots.
Blame it on the way Grayson’s curling his fingers inside me.
Or blame it on my first real taste of what it’s like to not be pressured into being good.
Whatever the reason, I keep going, my wetness coating Gray’s hand.
“People might be watching us,” my breath hits his neck as I notice different groups of people move along the boardwalk.
“Not might. They are, Emma,” he states. “People are going to get so turned-on from watching you come all over my fingers.”
“Gray.” I squeeze his arms, moaning into the crook of his neck.
“Show me how bad you are, Red. Let me make you come in public.”
It’s as if he hand delivered the key to my repressed reckless side, unlocking that part of my soul and letting it breakout.
With his sexy dare taunting me, lingering in the thickened air between us, I move my hips over him at a faster pace. Heat drips down my body, landing between my thighs as I continue.
Burying my head into Gray, my heavy breaths hit against his skin. His chest moves quicker each time I push forward. Latching his free hand around my waist, he helps guide my movements, racing me toward my climax.
Lust whooshes through my spine, and I let out a small cry as I yearn for more friction.
“There’s my girl.” Gray twists his fingers inside me, and I suck in a sharp breath. “Let everyone who walks by see how sexy you are.”
My nails dig into his biceps as every single part of me becomes rigid. A rush of exhilaration and ecstasy builds in my core, lighting up my body.
“Grayson—” I moan against him, trying to strangle the sound.
“Fuck,” he grits, trying to compose himself as his fingers work harder, fluttering at a rushed pace.
I hear more people walk by, and I know they can see us—we’re so incredibly obvious. But I don’t care. The more I unravel with Gray, the hotter this experience is for me.
Heaving, I lift my head up to look at Grayson. Our eyes lock, a naughty expression emanating through those cloudy blue irises. Ignoring the sounds of hammered people dipping in and out of bars, I press my lips against Gray’s in a needy kiss, my hands gripping his face.
He meets me with an equal amount of passion, swiping his tongue around mine, swallowing my sounds of desire.
As we keep working together, treacherously close to setting me off, my breathing starts to stutter. Short puffs of air fall from my lips. Gray moves his mouth, kissing my jaw and moving down to my neck—making me lose my sense of control and loudly moan as he tugs on my sensitive skin.
He slithers the hand that’s around my waist, up to the back of my neck, holding me in place.
“Come for me,” his rich voice whispers into my hair. “Out in public. Where anyone could be watching you.” He plants a peck below my ear. “Be my bad girl, and make them watch you come for me.”
His thumb circles my clit, and in one swift movement, he buries my head back into his shoulder as I shriek against him.
Liquid fire scorches my veins as my orgasm flies through me. Shuddering and writhing against Grayson, he keeps pumping his fingers inside me until they’re drenched with my desire for him.
Panting, my body jolts, begging to hold on to this high a little bit longer.
After several seconds pass, I go limp in his arms feeling his heartbeat racing against my own frenzied chest.
Delicately pushing myself up, my head is woozy as I look at Gray. There’s a smirk on his lips, and he slowly drags his fingers out of me, trailing my wetness along my thigh, then up to his mouth, sucking them clean.
Still heavily intoxicated from him and the alcohol, I blurt out, “That was so much fun!”
Then burst into a fit of giggles.
THIRTY-TWO
Grayson
I can’t help but laugh along with Emma as she lets herself go, her wavy hair twirling in the sea breeze as she tilts her head back and giggles some more just after getting off in public.
My cock is aching in my pants, and the fact that Emma’s still straddling me and her cum is lingering on me, is not helping my current situation.
But my needs take a back seat as I watch her light up with bliss, truly enjoying this night of release. The way her cheeks lift and her smile sparkles makes my stomach tumble, and I know that I need to give her more nights like this.
Nights where we’re not tortured by the past.
The more I admire her, the more my vision blurs together. Winding down from our high, the alcohol settles deeper into my bloodstream, hitting me even harder.
My eyelids get heavy, as does the rest of my body.
“Let’s do another shot!” Emma jumps off of me, and tugs my hand, forcing me to peel myself off the bench.
We misstep, crashing into one another and burst into another round of laughter as we make our way to a bar.
We throw back some more shots, losing count. As I do another one, it tastes like water going down. When I glance over at Emma, I notice how flushed her face is, and she’s struggling to stand upright. She blinks a few times, trying to keep her eyes open, but when she lets out a cute little yawn, that’s when I know our night is ending.
It’s also when realization hits me in my gut.
I fucking drove her here, which now means I have to figure out how to get her back home because I’m too shitfaced to walk straight let alone drive.
Digging my phone out of my pocket to get an Uber, I let out a frustrated groan when I’m met with a black screen. Just as I’m about to ask Emma if her phone is charged, she leans her body weight onto me.
“I’m having so much fun,” she mumbles, half asleep, her cheek squishing into my chest.
Wrapping my arm around her, I chuckle. “Let’s figure out how to get you back home.”
Exiting the bar, our steps are languid and messy. My head spins as we amble our way along the boardwalk. Even though the buildings are blending together, I can still make out SeaScape not too far off.
“We’re gonna get my sister to drive us,” I state as the idea strikes.
Emma gives me a thumbs up, then her movements slow down even more until she comes to a complete stop. With her shoulders rounded she lets out a deep sigh.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I’m so tired,” she whines. “Can we just stand here for a minute? Or like, somehow make the building come closer to us?”
Laughing, I stare at SeaScape with her, wishing one of us had telekinesis powers.
When neither of us are able to make it move, I take it upon myself to keep us going. Scooping Emma up, she squeals as one of my arms wraps around her back while the other is under her knees.
My body sways a bit, and it takes several seconds for me to find my footing before I keep walking.
Emma curls into my chest, and I can sense her smiling against me as she holds onto my shirt.
“I always think it’s so romantic when a guy carries a girl like this,” she says, the sound of her voice becoming airy.
“Romantic, huh?” I pry for more information. “What else do you find romantic?”
“Hmm…” She clutches me tighter. “Picnics, gardens, kissing in the rain, love letters—those sorts of things.”
Even though my brain has gone to trash, I make sure to memorize some of what she’s saying.
Picnics, gardens, rain, letters.
Picnics, gardens, rain, letters.
If I repeat it enough times, maybe it’ll stick.
Those four words float around my insides, making my heart feel lighter despite being weighed down by booze.
When we finally reach SeaScape, Emma seems to get a second wind as we step out of the elevator and into the hallway. She sways back and forth as I knock on Rae’s door.
I give it a couple of seconds before knocking again.
“Rae’s probably asleep,” I tell Emma. “Which means she’s gonna be even more of a bitch because I woke her up. So just hang behind me, and let me deal with her.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” she says, chuckling, but moves behind me anyway.
I continue tapping my knuckles against the door until it swings open. I reach out for the doorframe to stop from flying forward.
Rae’s jaw is set tight, and her eyes are fuming with anger. “What. The. Fuck.”
“Hi!” Emma squeaks, popping up from behind me.
Laughter bubbles inside me, and I press my lips together to try to keep it in, but the more I fight it, the larger it becomes as my shoulders shake.
Rae’s head tilts when she spots me and Emma together. And for whatever reason, the look on her face is fucking hilarious, and my laughter explodes, the sound bouncing off the walls in the hallway as I hold onto my stomach.
Emma follows suit, and the both of us are in hysterics, drunkenly laughing at nothing.
“What’s going on?” Miles appears beside Rae.
“I’d like to know that as well,” Rae states, crossing her arms.
I try to compose myself, taking a few deep breaths until I’m able to speak again. “We need a ride home. Well, Emma needs a ride home, but I’m staying with her.”
Rae’s features twist from the confusing information, and she eyes us suspiciously until things click for her. “Are you drunk?”
“They’re shitfaced,” Miles states. “Come on in, guys.” He opens the door wider, and Emma and I stagger inside.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Grayson,” Rae snaps, her voice becoming louder. “We’re addicts! He’s a recovering alcoholic!” She points to Miles.
“It’s all good. If anything, seeing people like this reminds me of how much I don’t want to drink,” Miles says.
Rae scowls at him, pissed that he messed up her chance to reprimand me.
“See? It’s all good.”
A loud crunch comes from the kitchen, and we all turn our attention to Emma, who’s shoving a handful of chips into her mouth. She pauses, looking as if she’s just been caught red-handed. “Sorry,” she mumbles.
