Keeping You (Destined Love #3)

15. Hannah

CHAPTER 15

Hannah

T he tour around the property with Grayson was actually relaxing. I never realized how much being in the city stressed me out. The constant noise of cars and people and the claustrophobic feeling of being on sidewalks and buildings packed with people. You can’t do anything in the city without being surrounded by noise.

On the walk back to the house, Grayson asks, “So, what do you think?”

“It’s gorgeous. It must have been so nice to grow up out here. All the fresh air and space to just be free.” I sigh.

This is somewhere I’d love to bring my future kids. Somewhere they can run around and I wouldn’t need to be constantly worried about them running into the middle of the road and getting hit by a car. Thinking about kids is a stab in the gut. I’m so far off from it that I have no idea why I’m thinking about it.

“Yeah, it was nice, for the most part. Having everyone know everything about your life, not so much, but we knew that we were safe, and we had more freedom than I’d expect city kids had growing up.”

“You and your sister seem close,” I say.

He smiles broadly. “Yeah. Growing up, we fought like cats and dogs. Mom was always yelling at us, trying to get us to play nice and get along. It wasn’t until I was in high school that we started to get along better. Now, I’d say she’s probably my best friend. We text and call regularly.”

“I wish I had a sibling,” I say softly. I feel Grayson’s eyes on me. “Growing up as an only child was lonely. I had no one to hang out with, and it was even worse when my parents split. Spending opposite weeks with each parent meant that it was harder to make friends with the kids in my neighbourhood, because I wasn’t around all the time.”

Grayson is silent for a minute before he says, “I’m sorry you had to experience that, Hannah. I could never imagine what it’s like to grow up with split parents and no one else who understands that feeling.”

I nod, grateful for his words, but also needing to move on from the topic. “I’m sure it’s nice to be home and spend time with her in person. She hasn’t visited you in the city, has she?”

He grips the back of neck. “It is nice to be home. I’m glad I get to spend time with her while I’m here. She hasn’t been able to come visit. It’s a decent drive and big time commitment. I try to come for a couple of days at least every summer.”

Walking up to the house, I see Melanie and Chloe sitting on the back deck and Randy standing in front of the barbeque. We walk into the kitchen, and I wash my hands before moving to the side so Grayson can wash his. I pass him the hand towel to dry his hands and can feel his eyes taking in every inch of me. It has me on edge, feeling like my skin might catch flame under his gaze. Luckily, his sister comes in to grab a bowl of salad, drawing Grayson’s attention.

“Come on, you two. Dinner’s just about done then Dad’s gonna start a bonfire. I bought all the fixin’s for s’mores.”

I follow Chloe outside and feel Grayson’s eyes on me the entire time. I’m eventually going to need to do something about this building tension, because it’s got me wound up and I need release. Being stuck here with his parents and sharing a room with Grayson for a week is going to make finding that release very difficult.

After a minute, Grayson joins us at the table, Micky settling under the table at our feet. I enjoy watching how Grayson and Chloe poke fun at each other and how much he truly enjoys being back with his family. They all embrace me as part of the group, asking questions about my work and family.

They don’t pry much when I give them the bare minimum on my mom, but I tell them about my dad and some of my favourite memories growing up with him. Some of the hockey games he took me to when I was really young. I remember enjoying it despite knowing nothing about hockey. Getting to spend that time with my dad was everything to me. We did dinner before, and I got to stay up late.

When dinner is over, I change into pants and a hoodie as Grayson warns me about the attack of the mosquitos that happens when it gets late. We create a circle of chairs around the large fire pit they have dug in the backyard. I watch as Grayson helps his dad place logs and light it. His every movement is like second nature to him. It’s like watching him on the ice. I’d never tell him this, but out there, he looks so strong and capable. If I hadn’t spent the last few years hating the guy, I’d say it’s panty melting. I hate to admit to myself that over the last few weeks, he’s been wearing me down, and seeing him do these things is having an effect on me.

When the fire is lit and going strong, he grabs a seat beside me. I watch Chloe and Grayson prep their marshmallows and hold them over the fire. I bite my lip, focusing on their technique. Grayson looks over at me and raises a brow.

“You not making one, Spitfire?”

I shake my head. I don’t really want to admit that I’ve never roasted a marshmallow or made a s’more before.

“Come on, you’ve got to. It’s Maxwell tradition, the first night Grayson’s home we make ’em,” Chloe says.

I adjust myself in my seat. “I’m good.”

Grayson sits further back in his chair and leans over the arm to be closer to me. He drops his voice so only I can hear him. “Spitfire, what’s up?” I shake my head, but he pushes. “Hannah.”

“I’ve never made one before.”

I expect Grayson to laugh or say some quick-witted remark, but he doesn’t. I turn and face him, and he’s grinning at me. It’s all warm and inviting, and it has me wanting to see it more. Ugh. What is this man doing to me? I’ve gone from hating his guts to wanting to be close to him, to being reminded of why I hated him, and back to wanting to be near him and see him smile at me. This is so draining, emotionally and mentally.

“Spitfire, it’s all good.” Grayson’s words pull me out of my thoughts. “I can show you, and we can have you all s’mored up in no time.”

He quickly pulls his marshmallow off his stick and plops it in his mouth before loading it with a fresh one. He passes me the stick and says, “Okay, so you want to hold it over the coals. You want to avoid the flames ’cause it will catch the marshmallow on fire and burn the outside and leave the inside pretty raw. Just rotate it slowly until it’s the colour you want it.”

I follow his instructions, his hand coming to my wrist every once and a while to get me to spin the stick. His light touch has goosebumps scattering up my arms. I peak over at him, and his attention is focused on the marshmallow, making sure it doesn’t burn. I take in his features while I can. He looks genuinely relaxed here.

After a few minutes, I pull it out and it’s this beautiful, golden brown around the entire outside. Grayson grabs some graham crackers and lays two pieces of chocolate on one. He places the cracker with chocolate under the marshmallow and the other cracker at the base. He drags it off slowly, and I watch as strings of marshmallow are left behind. He sandwiches it and passes it to me. I take a bite and feel how the heat of the marshmallow has melted the chocolate. It’s so freaking sweet, but it’s so good. I can’t help the moan that leaves me as I take the second bite.

Grayson clears his throat. “Good, right?”

I nod as I finish the last bite. He chuckles and loads another marshmallow and makes himself one. After a while, his parents say their good nights and head inside, leaving just the three of us. Chloe grins before she grabs her blanket and follows her parents as she calls, “Good night. Remember, old house means thin walls.”

Grayson shakes his head as he says good night. Despite the heat from the fire, the air is still cold enough that a shiver runs through me when a small breeze comes through. Grayson notices and holds his blanket up and pats his lap. I don’t move.

He reaches over and delicately runs his hand over my arm, causing me to shiver again, but this time it’s not from the cold.

“Come on, Spitfire. You’re cold, don’t punish yourself by staying over there.”

The breeze comes through again, this time a little stronger. I push up from my chair and position myself on his lap. He brings the blanket over my legs as he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me in close. I don’t know why I crawled into his lap so easily when I could have just gone inside, but something about him today has been pulling me in, making me want to be close to him. I allow myself to relax into him and absorb his body heat.

He runs his hand up and down my thigh, warming me. He smells like smoke from the bonfire, and it does something to me. I pull my hair over my shoulder as I squirm in his lap, and he groans. The sound has me squirming even more. I need release.

His grip on my waist tightens, and he drops his head to my shoulder, running his nose over my over sensitive skin. I bite my lip, holding back my own groan. I shuffle a bit, and his fingers dig into my skin through the fabric of my sweatshirt as he whispers, “Spitfire, you’ve got to stop that.”

I look down and bat my lashes at him. “And why is that?”

His eyes are molten lava as he holds my gaze. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me. But if you need me to spell it out for you, you and your sexy-as-sin ass squirming on me has me hard as a fucking rock. As much as I’m trying to respect your boundaries, unless you want me pulling down those leggings and fucking you right here, you need to stop.”

My breathing is quick and erratic. That sounds so fucking good. I shift a little more and feel his erection under my thigh and holy fuck, he’s big. The thought of him fucking me right here has my panties soaked, but I don’t give in. For the next thirty minutes, I remain as still as possible.

When we decide to go inside, Grayson grabs the hose and tells me he’ll be inside in a few minutes. I hurry inside, grabbing my pyjamas and a towel before heading into the washroom and turning on the shower. As soon as the water is a decent temperature, I step under it.

My hand trails down my body. I tweak both my nipples before my hand trails further south. I run a finger through my folds and find just how wet I am from earlier. I pump my fingers inside myself a few times before I find my clit. I bite my lip to stop the moan that wants to tear through my entire being. I’m so built up and so on edge, it’s not long before I’m coming, and the name I stop myself from calling out when the orgasm tears through me is Grayson’s.

I finish my shower and change. When I open the bathroom door, I come face to face with a shirtless Grayson leaning against the wall outside the washroom. I take him in, his broad shoulders and the cut of his abs and how they move as he pushes off the wall. Man, is my husband sexy.

Grayson chuckles. He leans down and whispers in my ear, “Like what you see?”

I’m frozen in place, because fuck yeah I do, but also I’m so not going to admit it to him. “It’s okay,” I croak, and he laughs.

“If you say so.”

“I do,” I say more firmly.

He steps back enough to let me pass, and I head into the bedroom. I climb under the covers on my side and settle in. Grayson eventually comes in, leaving the light off, and finds his way to the other side of the bed. The bed dips as he climbs in, and I immediately feel his body heat. He’s like a freaking furnace.

I toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position, all while trying to forget that I’m sharing a bed with Grayson Maxwell. After fifteen minutes of me constantly moving, Grayson’s arm wraps around my middle and he pulls me into him. I freeze.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Helping you sleep. Now just close your eyes, you’re keeping me up.”

He doesn’t let go, and after a couple minutes, I find myself relaxing into his hold. I fall asleep to Grayson’s light snores behind me.

In the morning, I wake up to an empty bed and go downstairs to find everyone in the kitchen. Grayson is helping his mom make pancakes while Randy and Chloe are talking at the table. They all greet me as I join them. Grayson passes the spatula to his mom and pours a cup of coffee, adding cream and sugar and few pumps of a syrup before passing it to me.

I say, “Thank you,” and hold the liquid gold in my hands as I settle at the table and take a sip. He somehow makes it exactly the way I like it every time.

He moves around the kitchen with ease. He and his mom work together in perfect sync, like they do this every day. I wonder if he gets all of his cooking skills from her. Every meal he’s made me has been amazing.

They place the eggs, pancakes, and bacon on the table and join us. Everyone digs in, and Chloe spends the entire time trying to convince Grayson to go to the local bar tonight.

“If Grayson doesn’t want to join you tonight, I will,” I tell her, and her face lights up.

“Oh, Hannah, this will be great!” she exclaims.

“I’ll go,” Grayson says beside me, and I peak over at him. He’s watching me with an intensity that has me wanting to squirm in my seat.

“Sounds like a plan, we should leave after dinner, the band starts at 10 p.m., but we’ll probably want to get in early and snag a table before it gets crazy.”

Grayson nods, and we finish breakfast. The entire time I feel Grayson looking over at me every once and a while. Being so close to him for the last twenty-four hours has me on edge. I need some space. Some distance to clear my head and get back in my right mind and remember why I wanted this marriage to end.

After we clean the kitchen, I run upstairs and throw some things in a bag and grab a blanket and towel before heading downstairs. I tell Grayson I’m going for a walk and I’ll be back for lunch. He nods, and I make my way outside.

I walk through the garden, retracing our steps from yesterday until I find the pond. I lay my blanket out in the sun, slip off my shoes, and lie down on my stomach as I settle in with my book, feeling the warm sun on my back. No matter how much I want to, I can’t seem to get into my book. My mind keeps wandering to last night and sitting in Grayson’s lap. To the feeling of his breath dusting over the shell of my ear as he whispered how hard he was because of me. The feeling of him wrapped around me last night.

No matter what I do, I can’t seem to escape the immense physical attraction I have for Grayson. Spending time with him over the last few weeks has only made it worse, because now I think my emotions might be getting involved. I’ve tried to push it all away, but it won’t go away.

Yesterday, Grayson told me no one comes out here, it’s all private property and it was always more his spot growing up than anyone else’s, so I figure I’ll have some privacy. I’ve never gotten myself off anywhere other than my bed or the shower, and I thought it might be fun to try something new, so I packed a little something in my bag.

I reach into my bag and pull out my vibrator as I roll onto my back. I slip off my panties and tuck them into my bag. I pinch my nipples through the fabric of my dress and lace bra. Images of Grayson dance through my mind. Grayson last year at the beach during our group camp as he came out of the ocean, water dripping down his body. Drops tracing each of his abs. I lick my lips.

Closing my eyes, I remember the feeling of his hard cock under my leg as I sat on his lap last night. His whispered words of fucking me right there beside the fire have me so fucking wet. I position the vibrator and turn it on. I barely contain the whimper that tries to escape me.

I think of Grayson as he hits a player into the boards during a game. The way I feel when his eyes trace every inch of me. I’m so fucking close.

Grayson doing push-ups in the living room. I moan. The memory that sends me over the edge into oblivion calling his name is his words from the day after our wedding, Hannah, you never look like shit. You look beautiful.

“Fucking hell.”

The sound of Grayson’s words have me snapping back to reality. I remove the vibrator and pop my head up to see Grayson standing at the edge of the tree line watching me.