Love In Colour

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: DELICIOUS TINGLES & INTOXICATING ORGASMS

The next hour passes in a blur of burgers, laughter, and the easy warmth of friendship. I almost forget about the gummy entirely—until I don't.

It starts as a tingling in my fingers—a lightness in my chest. The edges of the world seem to soften, the colours growing brighter, sounds growing richer. Grayson's laugh, when it comes, sounds like music. The fire crackles like a symphony. The sky is a masterpiece painted in shades I've never noticed before.

"Whoa," I breathe.

Gray turns to me immediately, his hand finding mine. "You alright?"

"I'm...I'm great, actually." I blink, looking around. "Is everything always this beautiful?"

Jake snorts. "She's feeling it."

"I'm feeling everything," I utter, and it's true. The warmth of the fire on my skin. The weight of Gray's hand in mine. The sound of Siya telling a story I can't quite follow but find utterly fascinating.

Rhys watches me with a knowing smile. I feel my lips mirror his smile. "Is it always like this?"

"Sometimes it's better. Sometimes it's worse." He leans back into Ben, looking perfectly at ease. "Depends on who you're with."

I look around at the people surrounding me. "I think I'm with the right people."

***

The fire has dwindled to a warm glow, embers pulsing like a slow heartbeat. The conversation has mellowed into the kind of easy, meandering talk that comes after hours of good food and good company. Violet is telling a story about her coworker's disastrous blind date, and Siya and Jake are in stitches laughing at the crazy events.

I hear none of it.

All I can feel is him. Grayson's thigh pressed against mine. The warmth of his body seeps through the thin blanket draped over us. The steady rise and fall of his chest. His hand rests casually on my knee, fingers occasionally tracing absent patterns on my jeans.

Every touch is electric. Every breath is too much while simultaneously not enough.

I shift beside him, trying to find a position that eases the ache building low in my belly. It doesn't help. If anything, the movement presses me closer to him, and I feel his thigh tense against mine.

Fuck.

My mind is a haze of images I can't control. Gray's hands on my skin. His mouth on my neck. The sounds he makes when I touch him. The way he says my name when he's close, breathless and beautiful.

The edible has turned everything soft at the edges, but desire is sharp. It cuts through the haze, insistent and demanding.

I shift again.

Gray's hand stills on my knee. He turns his head slightly, his lips brushing my ear. "Are you okay?"

I nod, because I can't trust my voice. Okay isn't the word. I'm not okay. I'm burning. I'm unraveling. I need him in a way that feels urgent and all-consuming.

Before I can think better of it, I swing my leg over and settle on his lap, straddling him. The blanket falls around us, cocooning us in a small, private world. His hands go to my hips automatically, steadying me, and I feel his sharp inhale against my lips.

"Thandi," he murmurs, low and warning.

I lean in, my lips brushing his ear. "I'm so fucking horny," I whisper. "Take me to the bedroom, now."

His hands tighten on my hips. I feel him tense beneath me, I feel the battle raging behind his eyes—the need to protect my privacy, to not make a scene, warring with the hunger I know he's feeling too.