Page 45 of All In

Wrapping my arms around him, I pull him closer, dragging my hard cock against his thigh. He moans into my mouth, tugging hard on my hair, and my stomach somersaults. Yeah. I need more of that. Immediately.

“Can’t do this,” he mumbles, but before I have a chance to ask what he means, he’s kissing me harder, nipping at and then sucking on my bottom lip. Pretty sure all my thoughts just disappear.

My husband is a real good fucking kisser.

Fuck.

I want to beg him to fuck me. Want to beg him to toss me onto the bed and use me. Make me come. Fuck, I want it so goddamn bad.

Before I can ask for it, he breaks away from me with a gasping inhale. My chest is heaving, and so is his, and we stare at each other for a beat.

“Your hair,” he says.

I blink at him. “My hair?”

“Yes,” he rasps. “That’s what your hair makes me want to do.”

Stepping closer, I place a hand over his swollen cock. It pulses against my palm, and Gray thrusts into it. “Just that? It doesn’t make you want to do more?”

Grayson squeezes his eyes closed. “Not yet.”

I’m not sure what’s holding him back. He clearly wants me. He’s still rocking his cock into my palm, the heat of it even through his pants searing into my skin. His cheeks are flushed, and when he opens his eyes, they’re half-lidded and hazy with lust.

He’s not gonna get any virtue points for waiting to fuck me, but it’s bad enough he’s stuck married to me. I’m not gonna push him with this. At least not on purpose.

“Alright.” I drop my hand and step back. “I’m ready if you are.”

A pained look crosses his face as he adjusts himself. I’m sure it made him more comfortable, but all it does to the bulge is make it more pronounced. And if my mouth waters at the sight, that’s my own business.

“Can I blow you?”

The words come flying out of my mouth without input from my brain. Well, so much for it being my own business.

Gray groans. “I’m gonna hate myself for this, but not right now.”

I resist the urge to pout. He’s always telling me no. I’m not used to him telling me no at all. But, hey, this is a marathon, not a sprint, I guess. Only problem is that fast is my default setting. I can slow down for Gray, though. I can and I will.

With a deep breath to calm myself some, I reach out and tangle my fingers with his, tilting my head back to offer him a smile. “Alright, I’m ready. Are you?”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “Why am I already regretting this?”

Twenty minutes later, our driver is pulling up to a nondescript nightclub. The music is pounding, the bass thumping through my chest even from outside. I’m almost bouncing on my toes in excitement.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been out like this. When Josh and I first met, I was trying to find my place at the hospital, and he was settling into his intern year. We almost instantly fell into an easy rhythm. We didn’t go out unless it was to dinner. We didn’t have fun with each other. Not like Gray and I do. Maybe our relationship was doomed from the start.

Gray tips the driver, then grabs my hand and leads me to the door. After being carded, the bouncer lets us in, and Gray presses a kiss to my temple. It takes me by surprise a little. “I’m gonna grab drinks. Meet you on the dance floor?”

I nod, then drop his hand so I can push my way into the throng of people.

There is a group of women dancing near the edge, and I scoot past them without a word, ignoring everyone as I work my way to the center. Center of the dance floor. Center of attention. It’s all the same to me.

I can feel the appreciative eyes on me as I slip past a group of men who look about my age, but I ignore it. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but when I say center of attention, I mean I only want to be at the center of Gray’s attention, which is a strange revelation for me.

I’m still thinking about that, frozen in place with the bass thumping in my ears, when Gray walks up to me and hands me a drink. I tip it back, downing half of it in one swallow.

He raises his eyebrows, then leans close enough that his breath gusts over my ear when he damn near shouts, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I yell back.