“One more time, baby,” Grey growled. “Come for me. You can do it.”
My * clenched when his fingers brushed my clit. All it took was a few rubs of that swollen, slick bud. Once again, my legs tightened around his hips and my nails dug into his back. I almost sobbed at the pleasure washing through my oversensitive flesh.
“I'm never letting you go,” Grey panted harshly. Then he bit his lip and groaned aloud with release, his cock throbbing deep inside me.
I collapsed bonelessly when he pulled out, as if he'd been the only thing keeping me up. He threw away the condom and lay down beside me. I kissed the SEAL trident tattoo on his bicep, then squirmed close to pillow my head on his strong arm. I inhaled his masculine scent, sweat and sex and musky cologne; his chest hair tickled my nose.
I had meant to take off the rest of my lingerie at some point. But I was so exhausted, so satisfied and warm. We fell asleep with our legs entwined.
Chapter Seventeen
Greyson
For the last six weeks, my world had revolved around my two leading ladies. Six weeks of family dinners, of Finley sleeping in my bed each night, of simple pleasures like playing tag in the backyard and shopping for fruit at the farmer’s market. It was a small slice of heaven that I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Maybe ever.
I felt better than I had in years. My step was lighter, laughter came easier. I generally just felt more rested and at peace than ever before. Who knew being in love would do that to a man? It certainly explained a few things–like how my buddy Nolan’s life magically transformed from a sworn bachelor playing the field to laying aside all his bad habits for the right girl. There was not a damn thing wrong with monogamy in my book. Two people who loved and trusted each other enough to stick together through all of life’s ups and downs was something to be cherished.
And Finley? She’d transitioned into her new life beautifully, even better than I could have hoped for. She worked part time for Redstone from my home office we’d fixed up for her with a new laptop. We bought a desk in cream-colored wood, light gray gauzy curtains, and a tufted purple armchair. She’d definitely taken it to heart when I told her to make it her office. She’d even hung a couple of framed photos. My favorite was a painting with various sayings about strength and determination and having the courage to live your dreams – even though the damn thing was hot pink. Her new position at Redstone had her fielding phone calls, typing up memos, and handling the business expenses and reimbursements. She’d impressed Jerry Barton right away with her attention to detail and initiative. He didn’t need to know that office work was a far cry from what was on her past resume. These days, she danced only for me.
Maple was thriving, too. She was enrolled at a nearby preschool for the couple half days that Finley worked. She’d caught onto everything so quickly, trying to sing along to her ABCs and everything.
Life was pretty close to perfect. Except ...
I couldn’t help the pit of dread churning in my stomach. Today was the two-year anniversary of Marcus’ death.
I left a single light pink rose on Finley's bedside table and left before sun up. It wasn’t my busy work obligations driving me – it was fear. I couldn’t face her this morning. It was one of the most important dates in her life. Right up there with the day Maple was born, the day she lost her husband would always be burned into her brain, just like it was in mine.
I’d left the long-stemmed rose, its color signifying sympathy, along with a note:
I’ll be thinking of you today.
And then I’d escaped into the darkness like a coward. Again. I didn’t know the right things to say, didn’t know the pretty words that could soothe her heartache and the gigantic hole his loss had left.
I’d been at work for several long, distracted hours when it suddenly struck me. I was sitting at my desk, looking at pictures of Maple on my phone instead of working. Her unruly hair stuck up in the back just like Marcus’s used to. I realized that I couldn’t keep trying to shove their past underneath the proverbial rug. This entire time, I'd been tiptoeing around the facts. I was still trying my damnedest to push all thoughts of Marcus out of this relationship.
But I couldn’t keep doing that. Because even though he wasn’t walking this earth anymore, he’d never truly be gone. He was in Finley’s heart. My memories. A piece of him was in that little girl I loved. It was time to do what was right. I’d been trying to shove him out...when what I needed was to bring him in.
I had a plan.
*
I made it home from work in record time that evening and found my girls lingering at the kitchen island over their finished plates.
Finley lifted up on her toes and pressed a kiss to my cheek. When she pulled away, the worried look in her eyes almost undid me.