It’s obvious from the picture that Grant got his fairer features from his mom. She was beautiful, and had matching blonde hair and blue eyes. I can’t help but notice that there’s something in Grant’s face, a carefree look, that he never wears anymore. And it’s not just because he was young. Of course everyone is naïve to how harsh the world can become when they’re younger. It’s something more. Even when Grant laughs, he still appears as though he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Except for when he’s on stage. It’s like he’s a totally different person, and for me, it’s a glimpse of him before whatever disastrous events took place in his life.
I’ve never been to a frat house where someone has their own bathroom, but it’s a nice convenience. Perusing Grant’s belongings, I can’t help but think how I wish I would’ve met him sooner. The way his toothbrush is neatly placed in the holder, like it was just taken out of the package. His toothpaste sits precisely next to it. Snooping in his drawers, I’m not surprised to find everything in its designated spot. I hope he’ll be able to handle my disorganization.
After using the bathroom, I climb back into his bed. He rolls over and positions me under his arm, slowly moving his thumb up and down my arm. Placing a kiss on the side of my head, he pulls me closer, confirming that this is exactly where I should be.
Chapter 8
Grant
My alarm blares from my phone, waking me up from an amazing dream. I turn it off and roll over, feeling a warm body sharing my bed. She’s curled into a small ball with her back to me so I snuggle close, thankful it wasn’t a dream. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her back and she nuzzles into me.
“Good morning,” I whisper before kissing her temple.
“Not a morning person,” she deadpans and I laugh.
“Well, I am. I’ll be right back with some coffee,” I say and shuffle out of bed, grabbing my jeans.
“Hurry,” she groggily calls out to me before I shut the bedroom door.
Since it’s early, the house is quiet with everyone sleeping off their hangovers. I make my way across the street to the bakery. It’s also empty of college students, although a couple professors occupy the tables.
I pay for my two coffees and some croissants, eager to get back to Jessa. Having no idea what she likes for breakfast, I decide to get a few more pastries so that she has a variety to choose from. The anticipation of finding out all the things she loves courses through me, but panic also arises inside with the thought that I’ll fuck this up. I’ve never experienced what happened last night, not even with Lizzy. The connection between Jessa and I scares the shit out of me. I can’t help but think that, as with everything good that has come into my life, heartache is inevitable.
When we got back from the gym, I was thankful the nightly party didn’t end up at our house. Jessa and I locked ourselves in my bedroom, and I think I am now sore from how many times we had sex. Not that it’ll stop me from taking her again this morning, if she’s willing.
I slowly open my door to see that the bed is empty and her clothes are gone. “Fuck,” I say to myself. Sitting down on the bed, I place the coffees on the end table with the bag of breakfast pastries. I rest my elbows on my knees and tear off my baseball hat, throwing it across the room. The thud signifies the lid hit the sole picture frame on my desk.
I’m such a moron. How did I ever think this would work? I run my fingers through my hair in frustration, and like always, the silence kills me. I’m so sick of being alone, sick of everyone leaving me.
The turn of the knob at my bedroom door surprises me, and I raise my head to find Jessa dressed in her work-out clothes from last night. Her make-up might be a little smeared, but she looks breathtaking to me.
“Oh, I thought I would beat you back,” she says, walking into the room nonchalantly.
As though I didn’t just think the worst, I ask, “Where did you go?” I walk over to the desk and pick up my hat, situating the picture frame back on top.
“I had to go get something.” She has a bag behind her and my curiosity is piqued. Slowly she makes her way to where I’m standing by the dresser.
“What is that?” I ask in a sing-song voice.
“Well, yesterday was Valentine’s Day and I didn’t get you anything,” she says, inching closer. “Unfortunately, there wasn’t much left at the store so we’ll have to be creative.”
“Alright…” I patiently wait for her to finish.
“See, I like to draw,” she says and takes out something that looks like frosting. “And trace,” she continues, taking out another tube. “But most of all, I love desserts,” she states, holding up white, brown and black plastic-filled tubes. “Do you want to be my canvas? I promise to lick you clean when I’m done.”
Shit, I think I just became fully erect. Calm yourself down, two minutes ago you thought she left you, I tell myself. Then my irrational side says, fuck that.
“I’ll be your canvas anytime,” I say aloud. “But I’ll warn you, I’m not an artist, but I love my desserts, too. And if you lick me, I lick you.” I grab her arms and pull her to me, capturing her lips.
“No, buddy, we do this my way this time.” She pushes back from me and then takes the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it up over my body. I quiver as her hands skim gently over my chest. Then her fingers hit the waistband of my pants and her lips brush lightly across my pecs. I’m already so hard that she puts her hand on my pants and gently unsnaps and unzips them until my cock breaks free through my boxers.
“Let’s move over to the bed,” she says and backs me up. Just as my legs touch the mattress, she pushes me down onto the bed. “Perfect.”
“No, not perfect. Take off your clothes,” I request, and she automatically sheds her shirt and pants, exposing her exquisite black bra and lack of panties.
“Better?” she asks and I nod my head, unable to speak. I do manage to scoot my way up on the bed before she straddles me.
“Hmm…decisions. Which do I prefer the most, white chocolate, caramel, or hot fudge?” She contemplates the tubes in her hand and meanwhile, the anticipation of her pouring any of the above over me and licking me clean has me at the brink already. “I think I’m going to go with hot fudge,” she says, popping the top off and drawing a small line between my nipples before putting drops on each one. “Let’s mix some flavors,” she smirks down at me and I grab her hips firmly, silently telling her I can’t take much more.
Grabbing the caramel, she puts some on her thumb and rubs it across my lips. “I’ll give you a taste,” she remarks, moving down so her lips touch mine. She licks each lip and then inserts her tongue, the sticky sweetness combines as our mouths join together. My hands reach around and undo her bra, throwing it on the floor, and her body crashes on top of mine.
Rolling us over, I straddle her and see the smeared hot fudge all over her tits. Holding her hands to her sides, I take her left tit into my mouth, biting lightly on her peaked nipple. She wiggles and arches her back to try and get free, pushing it further into my mouth.
Discreetly, I grab the tube of white chocolate and bring it to her stomach, squeezing a line from her breasts down her stomach to her pussy. I slowly lick her stomach clean and make my way down to her neatly trimmed sex. Inserting my tongue between her folds, I grab her clit with my teeth, sucking it into my mouth. “More, Grant,” she gasps. I relinquish her hands and they fly to the back of my head, holding it against her as she bucks into my face. Her pleasure increases and her moans become louder and more frequent. I’m so turned on from the sounds of pleasing her that I want to touch myself just to relieve the pressure.
In all my previous experiences, I’ve never had a girl like Jessa. She takes what she wants and isn’t embarrassed to explore and experiment. It’s sexy as hell how unashamed of her sexuality she is. One more thrust into my face and she holds still, finding her release.