Page 49 of His Build

Graydon laughed, running a hand through his hair. When he pulled it away there was a shadow there. But he kept his eyes on her.

Lucy put a hand on her neck, suddenly self-conscious. “This loft is bigger than my whole condo.”

“I don’t know how you New Yorkers do it,” he said. “I don’t need all that much space for myself and yet… without it, I’m not sure I could breathe.”

As if to test it, Lucy took in a lungful of air. He was right, this place was freeing—even in the low ceilinged space over a barn, she felt like something had released in her chest. Something pent up that she hadn’t known was stuck.

“This is my favorite place.”

“You haven’t seen the deck yet,” he said.

“Or the bedrooms,” she said, then flushed hard as she realized what she’d said.

Graydon looked like he was trying to suppress a laugh.

Her cheeks flushed hard. “I didn’t—”

“It’s all good,” he said. “The bedrooms are really nice.”

Now it was her turn to laugh.

Graydon pulled a forearm across his forehead. “Hot up here, though.”

Even though sweat prickled at her temples and between her breasts, she’d hardly noticed. Or she’d thought it was just her, thinking about Graydon’s bedroom.

The heat dipped decidedly lower, and without her brain giving permission, Lucy stepped towards him. She went up on her toes and Graydon closed his eyes as she blew on his forehead. “That better?” she said softly.

Graydon moaned, opening his eyes. “I don’t know… do it again.”

She laughed again and repeated the move, this time placing her hands on his shoulders as she stretched up again. He reached out and circled her wrists with his hands. When she stopped, he pulled her wrist to his lips and kissed the soft inside of one and then the other.

Now it was Lucy’s turn to make a sound as he leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft and gentle, barely brushing hers, but the effect was electric. A cool shiver ran all over her skin and her knees went loose.

Lucy backed up and pulled her t-shirt over her head.

Graydon moved to do the same, but she put a hand on his, stopping him.

“Wait,” she said. She took a few steps back and slipped out of her shoes, then unbuttoned her shorts, letting them slide over her hips to the floor. She stood there wishing she tended to sexier underclothes than the plain cotton bra and underwear she wore, but by the look in his eyes, it didn’t matter at all.

Graydon clasped and unclasped his hands at his side, as if desperate to reach out and touch her. She grew wet between her legs as she stood there, enjoying the delicious torture of him standing there fully clothed, and the distinct vulnerability of her taking everything off.

She unsnapped her bra and dropped it to the ground, then stepped out of her underwear.

For a moment he didn’t move. Then he closed the distance between them in two long strides and lifted her off her feet. She gasped as he held her, walking her backwards as easily as if she weighed nothing at all. The feeling of his clothing against her bare skin—the hard edge of his belt buckle pressed against the bottom of her ass; the buttons of his shirt pressed against breasts—was indescribably hot. Graydon carried her to the shelf at the back, which was just at hip height for him.

“Are you okay?” he breathed, and all she could do was nod.

She watched as he unbuckled his jeans and slipped the condom from its pocket. “Just in case you’d let me make love to you again…” he started.

The word love, even used in the context of this magnetic vortex of desire, made something fuzz at the edges of her heart, and without thinking, she stretched a hand out and cupped his jaw, running her thumb against the scar. When his eyes met hers, the breath went out of her. It was as if he was looking right inside of her.

“Let you? It’s all I can think about,” shesaid. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about for days.” The words came out of her in a tumble and she dropped her hand, clamping her mouth shut before she said something worse.

But he picked up her hand and placed it back on his jaw, drawing her forefinger along the length of his scar. “I used to think I forgot how to feel…” he whispered. “That I left that part of me behind. But Lucy you…” he brought his eyes down, taking in her naked body before him. “You have all of me here.”

Graydon slid his free hand over the hollow part of her throat, along her clavicle, and trailed his fingers over the sides of her breasts. Then he gripped her hips, pressing the hardness of his jeans against her mound.

Lucy let out a moan and brought her hands to his waist, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. She tugged down the waistband of his boxers and his cock jumped free.

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