All The Wild Ones | Wildfire Series

Over-Shoulder Pass

NESSA

That did not just happen.

I did not just orgasm in front of Grayson Everett from a little bit of ice—okay, a lot of ice—and the perfect amount of pressure. There was no way. No way that his voice calling me darling was what got me off in the end. No way that he groaned loudly afterward and told me that I was perfect before pushing away from me like I'd burned him.

Water sprayed at the ground, splashing our feet. I was panting, chest heaving as I tried not to sink to the floor of the shower. My hand was flat on the wall as if that were enough to hold me up.

My body tingled, still. The mixture of heat and ice and Grayson had sent me over the edge. And it felt like I was still falling.

He was gripping the walls, too. Grayson stood at the entrance to the shower, head down as he held onto the stall with white knuckles.

Without him next to me, I felt cold. Without his eyes, I felt empty.

"Grayson."

He shook his head, hair damp and dripping.

"Look at me," I rasped. "I want you to look at me."

I didn't care that I was naked except for my sports bra. Part of me wanted to shed that, too, and then watch his gaze roam over me. Right now, after being told I was fucking perfect in that low, husky voice, I was confident enough to want that.

I wished he'd let me touch him. I mean, come on. That wasn't even part of the deal. Grayson was hard and wet and hot, and at this very moment, I'd do just about anything to be able to touch him.

But he shook his head and turned abruptly away without even glimpsing in my direction. He raised his arms as he walked, lacing his fingers behind his head like he was trying to catch a breath after a race.

"Stop, Nessa," he finally choked out. "I can't."

I didn't bother asking why because I knew why.

A war battled within me, a push and pull between the things I wanted. Because the truth was that I couldn't have it all, and I needed to decide. But before I could do that, before I could measure and weigh my choices,  words slipped out of my mouth.

"It's okay, Grayson," I whispered, tentative and barely audible above the spray of the shower. "It's okay to touch me."

He froze. For one split second, he froze. Heat and hope swelled in equal measure. But then he shook his head again, and all of that disappeared.

His body turned to the side so he could talk over his shoulder without looking at me. "I'm not doing a damn thing until you're positive you want something more. That already went way further than I'd meant for it to. I'm sorry, Nessa."

"But I—"

"No, I need you to sound a hell of a lot more sure than that before I get my hands on you." He exhaled heavily. "I'm going to get changed. Take your time cleaning up."

When Grayson walked away, my legs finally gave up, and I slid down the shower wall, hoping to God that I didn't end up covered in athlete sweat and body fluids.

****

I didn't see Grayson over the next few days. And I wondered if I'd finally pushed him too far. Maybe he'd grown tired of waiting for me, or he needed to turn to someone else to—

No, I refused to believe that. Not after he so firmly told me that there were no other girls. I needed to trust that he was busy. He did have a ton of commitments, and it was nearing midterms. That was all. It had to be.