Grayson settled into the couch, arm stretched casually behind Olivia. The air between them was warm and charged with the kind of comfort that only came when things felt easy. Her revelation had caught him off guard—in the best way.
He turned his head, amusement tugging at his mouth. "Wait. You're telling me you met me first?"
Olivia bit back a smile, pulling her legs underneath her. "Technically. You just didn't know it."
That piqued his curiosity. "Okay, now I need details. If this ends with you following me through airports, I'm going to need a timeline."
She laughed. "Relax. It's not a Dateline episode. Just… strange coincidences."
Grayson angled his body toward her, giving her his full attention. "Strange coincidences are my favorite kind."
She lifted a brow. "Alright. Paris. Three years ago. I was at this tiny café with some friends—wine, existential conversations, the usual. I looked up at the sound of someone laughing across the street, and there you were. Standing outside some restaurant, talking with two other guys. Nothing crazy. You were just… there. Nodding along, totally in the moment. I remember thinking you looked familiar, even though I'd never seen you before."
His brows pulled together, a slow smile forming. "Paris?"
She nodded. "Yup. And then a year later, Istanbul."
He blinked. "Seriously?"
"I was with a colleague, wandering through the Grand Bazaar, arms full of scarves I wasn't going to buy. We ducked into a shop, and I saw you outside, sitting at a little table under an awning. You were staring at a tablet while an older guy talked next to you. Some serious business vibes."
Grayson shook his head slowly, as if trying to piece together a timeline that somehow made sense. "Istanbul, too? That's... actually insane."
"I know," she said with a small shrug. "I paused for, like, a second. Thought maybe you'd look up. But you didn't."
He leaned back, eyebrows still raised. "So you've just been accidentally haunting my international travel schedule?"
"Apparently," she grinned. "And the best part? I have a picture of you from Barcelona. You're in the corner of a skyline shot I took."
He blinked. "You're joking."
"Nope. Totally unintentional. You're blurry, but it's definitely you."
Grayson stared at her for a beat, brows lifted. "So let me get this straight… you crossed paths with me in Paris and Istanbul before we ever officially met."
She nodded, clearly enjoying the expression on his face. "And you were blissfully unaware both times."
He leaned back with a low whistle, eyes never leaving hers. "If I were a more dramatic man, I'd say the universe has been trying to shove me into your path for years."
She tilted her head, amused. "Maybe it just got tired of being subtle."
He grinned. "Yeah, well. Good thing I finally caught up."
Grayson couldn't take his eyes off her.
This woman who had unknowingly brushed past his life in two different countries was now curled into his couch, sipping red wine like she belonged there. Not just in his penthouse. In his life. She wasn't just a coincidence anymore. She was a pattern. A path. A presence that had lingered in the corners of his world for years, just out of reach. Until now.
He stared at her, his fingers curling loosely around his glass.
Three years ago.
The memory hit him like a ripple in still water. Istanbul. He had been at that café. It had been a brutal trip, a high-pressure deal, months of prep, and the first international pitch he'd done solo since the divorce. He'd barely eaten that day, let alone noticed anyone walking by. He remembered being numb back then. All business by day, and by night… well, night was just a distraction. He wasn't in any shape to see anyone really see them.
Would he have noticed her? Probably not. But now? Now, she was impossible to ignore. She looked over at him, her legs tucked under her, her skin glowing in the room's low light. He gave her a soft, curious smile. "I can't help but wonder what would've happened if you'd said something to me back then."
Grayson throat tightened and he leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on hers. "Oh, I wouldn't have said a word to you," she grins. "I'd just broken up with Asshat; my mind was a mess. That whole trip was a rescue mission, courtesy of my friends."
Grayson blinked, surprised. "Really? You were just out of a breakup, too?"
She nodded, swirling the wine in her glass. "Yep. Normally, it's just me and my bestie, but when the others heard what happened, they all tagged along. Like an emotional SWAT team. It was exactly what I needed."
He sat back slowly, a smile tugging at his lips. "So we were both kind of wrecks."
"Therapeutic travel," she said with a wink.
Grayson felt something shift in his chest, something quiet and real. "Well… I'm glad it worked out in our favor."
She raised her glass. "To healing."
He clinked it gently, watching her over the rim. "So… you weren't surprised to see me at the bar that night?"
She gave a soft, almost shy laugh. "Oh, I'm always surprised to see you. You're like a paradox."
Grayson tilted his head, studying her. "A paradox?"
"Yeah," she said, curling her fingers around her glass. "You're calm and intense. It's charming but private. You disappear into a room and somehow command it simultaneously."
He hadn't expected that. Not the way her words landed. Not the way they disarmed him.
He set his glass down on the table, his gaze never leaving hers. "You make it really hard not to kiss you right now."
Her smile widened just slightly. "Then don't try so hard."
Grayson didn't. He closed the space between them with the kind of certainty that only came after years of missed chances and one undeniable pull. His hand found her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek as he leaned in. And when their lips met, it was slow. Intentional. Not rushed, but full of everything they hadn't said out loud.
He kissed her like someone who had been waiting for this moment without even knowing it.
She melted into him, responding like it was the most natural thing in the world because it was. Every brush of her lips against his, every quiet inhale between kisses, felt like pieces falling into place. Grayson deepened the kiss, slow but deliberate, his hand sliding from her jaw to the back of her neck, drawing her closer.
Olivia's fingers curled into his shirt, gripping the fabric like she needed something to hold on to. He tasted the wine in her mouth, but beneath it was something distinctly her warm and addictive. The kind of taste a man doesn't forget.
He pulled her into his lap, the move effortless, like she belonged there. Her knees bracketed his hips, and his hands found the small of her back. God, she felt good solid and soft in all the right places, heat radiating off her in waves. He looked up at her, his breath slightly uneven now.
"This feels like fate to you yet?" he asked, voice low and rough.
She nodded, threading her fingers through his hair. "I think fate's been screaming at us."
"Yeah?" His lips brushed her collarbone, trailing heat along her skin. "Then I'm done pretending not to listen."
She tilted her head back, a soft breath escaping as he kissed down the column of her neck. He took his time, letting his mouth explore tasting, teasing. Her skin was warm beneath his lips, and the quiet little sound she made when he sucked gently just below her jaw went straight to his core.
Olivia's hands moved under his shirt, fingers dragging slowly across his stomach, and he hissed through his teeth, gripping her hips more tightly.
"You're killing me," he murmured against her skin.
She grinned, lips brushing his ear. "I haven't even started."
That did something to him.
Grayson moved toward her slowly, settling between her knees. His hands came to rest on her thighs, thumbs stroking the smooth fabric.
"You know," he said, voice husky, "this dress is kind of a problem."
She arched an eyebrow, lips curving. "Why's that?"
"Because it's in the way of everything I want."
He slid his hands up to the zipper, eyes flicking to hers. When she didn't stop him only leaned back slightly, giving him room he pulled it down slowly. The sound of the zipper filled the quiet space between them. Inch by inch, the dress parted, revealing soft skin, the delicate slope of her breasts, the flat of her stomach.
Grayson pushed the cotton dress open, letting it fall off her shoulders. She wore nothing underneath—no bra, no panties.
He inhaled sharply, jaw clenching. "Jesus, Olivia."
She gave him a slow, wicked smile. "Still want to know what would've happened if you noticed me back then?"
"No," he murmured. "I only care about now."
He leaned in and kissed her again, deep, lingering, his tongue sliding against hers. His hands moved to her thighs, parting them, dragging them over his lap until she was spread open for him, her bare skin against the cool air.
He kissed down her neck, over her collarbone, and down the center of her chest. He licked across the soft curve of one breast, then took her nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue until she let out a breathless moan.
"Grayson…"
"Shh." He grinned against her skin. "Let me have you. Just like this." Then placed her back off him back on the couch.
He slid off the couch and dropped to his knees in front of her, pulling her hips forward until her ass was on the edge of the cushion, legs draped over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of her thigh, slow and deliberate, then the other. She was already glistening for him.
Grayson didn't hesitate. He licked her slowly, the flat of his tongue dragging up through her folds, savoring the taste. She gasped, hips twitching, one hand flying to the back of his head. He groaned against her, then did it again licking, circling her clit, then teasing it with gentle suction.
"God," she whispered.
His fingers slid inside her, slow and deliberate, curling just right. He moved them in tandem with his mouth pushing in, pulling out, his tongue never stopping. Her thighs tightened around his head as she bucked against his face.
She moaned sharp and high, and he knew she was close.
"You taste like fucking heaven," he rasped, voice muffled between her legs. "Come for me, Little Fox."
Her head dropped back, her body tightening, then shuddering hard around his fingers. She cried out, hips jerking against him as she came, her orgasm rolling through her in waves. He didn't stop until she was fully undone until her hand weakly tugged at his hair in surrender.
When he finally looked up, her chest was heaving, eyes half-lidded and dazed.
"Still good?" he asked, voice thick with lust.
She exhaled a breathless laugh. "You're insane."
He stood and grabbed her, lifting her into his arms effortlessly. She wrapped herself around him again, legs hooking around his waist. He kissed her hard as he carried her through the hallway, her hands pulling at the waistband of his pants, sliding inside to touch his skin.
"Bedroom," she murmured against his mouth. "Now."
"Say less."
They bumped into a wall halfway there, giggling, but neither stopped kissing. Olivia helped him shove his pants down over his hips, fingers brushing over his hardness, and he groaned deep in his throat.
They reached the bed, and he laid her down with reverence like he knew how close he'd come to never having this.
He stood over her for a moment, taking in the view her naked, flushed, satisfied, but still wanting him.
Grayson let the last of his clothes fall away. Then he climbed over her, pressing every inch of his body against hers.
"I want you again," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"You've got me," he said and slid into her in one smooth thrust.
Grayson's body sank into hers, the heat of their connection enveloping them both. He wasn't gentle this time couldn't be. She was everything he'd been waiting for, everything he'd unconsciously been craving all these years. And now that she was in his bed, under him, he couldn't hold back.
He thrust deeper, his body meeting hers with a soft slap, their skin slick with sweat and desire. Olivia gasped, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist, her nails raking down his back, pulling him closer. Her lips were still swollen from their kiss, but now she was breathing hard, her chest heaving with every movement.
"You're fucking incredible," Grayson murmured, voice rough, his breath hot against her neck. He kissed her again, more demanding now—tongue sliding against hers, tasting her as if he couldn't get enough of her mouth, her skin, her everything.
Olivia's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him back just slightly. "Don't stop," she whispered breathlessly. "Please don't stop."
He smirked against her lips. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Little Fox."
He shifted his angle, pushing deeper inside her, and her body responded with a sharp gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders. Her eyes fluttered shut, her mouth opening in a quiet moan. He could feel her pulse quicken, her hips rolling against his in time with each of his thrusts.
The room was thick with the sounds of their bodies moving together the soft slap of skin, their breaths quickening, and Olivia's moans filling the air. He was losing himself in her, in the sensation of being so connected, so raw and real. Every inch of him was driven by the need to make her come undone again.
His hand slid between them, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight, quick circles as he picked up the pace. She cried out, her back arching off the bed, hips thrusting up to meet him. He held her down gently, making sure she couldn't escape, making sure he could give her all of him.
"Grayson… please," Olivia whimpered, her voice breathy and desperate. "I'm close…"
"Come for me," he ordered, his voice low, gravelly. "I want to feel you break apart."
She let out a strangled cry, her body tightening around him, her muscles pulsing in waves. Grayson kept thrusting, slow and steady, giving her time to ride out the orgasm, feeling her body quiver beneath him as she came again, her grip on him tightening.
He didn't stop. He couldn't.
The feeling of her was too much, too good, too perfect. He pushed harder, deeper, his hips snapping against hers as he chased his release. The heat between them built again, growing unbearable, and when he felt the telltale tightening in his stomach, he knew he wasn't far behind.
"Olivia," he groaned, his head falling to her shoulder as he lost control. His body tensed, his back arching as he thrust one final time, burying himself deep as he came inside her with a low, guttural moan. He felt her pulse around him, felt the way she held him through the release, her body still quivering beneath his.
They stayed like that momentarily, breathing hard, their bodies tangled together, and the world outside was nonexistent. Grayson rested his forehead against hers, his chest rising and falling with every breath.
"You're everything," he whispered, his hand brushing her hair back from her face.
Olivia smiled softly, her hands tracing his jawline, her thumb brushing over his lips. "So are you."
He kissed her again, this time softer and slower, as if trying to savor the moment savor her.
The room was quiet now, save for the sound of their breaths, both of them lost in the aftermath of the most intimate thing they'd ever shared. And Grayson, for the first time in a long time, felt whole. Not just because of what had just happened but because he was no longer chasing some elusive connection. He'd found it. she was right here in his arms.
They lay tangled in the sheets, Olivia's leg draped over his, her arm resting loosely across his chest. The city lights spilled softly through the tall windows, casting a glow across the room, but it was the warmth of her body that kept him grounded.
Grayson didn't want to move. Didn't want to ruin the peace humming between them.So he didn't.
Instead, he turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. Then another. Then one just below her neck.
Olivia hummed, eyes still closed, her lips curving. "If you keep doing that, we're not going to make it to sleep."
"That a warning or a request?" he murmured against her skin.
She let out a soft laugh. "A little of both."
Grayson smiled into the next kiss he pressed to her shoulder, letting his hand rest lightly on her hip beneath the covers. Her skin was still warm, her breathing slow and steady now. He tilted his head and looked at her, loving the way she looked in his bed—hair tousled, cheeks flushed, completely relaxed.
"What'd you do today?" he murmured against her skin. "Before you found me in the elevator."
She gave a small, amused exhale. "Before I hunted you down, you mean?"
"Exactly." He kissed the slope of her neck. "I want the full Olivia agenda."
She shifted just enough to glance at him over her shoulder, her voice still husky from the earlier heat. "Well, after we landed… I had two major things on my list. First, I visited my two distribution centers in the city. Had to check in with operations, smooth over some nonsense, and reinforce a few things on the East Coast side."
Grayson lifted a brow. "All before lunch?"
"Please," she smirked, "I was fueled by airplane coffee and spite. I was on fire."
He chuckled, nuzzling her shoulder. "Spite's your superpower."
"Exactly. And then," she continued, her grin widening, "I spent the rest of my afternoon… texting you. Around the city. From random spots. While watching you lose your damn mind."
Grayson groaned, dragging his hand over his face. "You were toying with me."
"Oh, absolutely. I could practically feel your frustration through the screen. It was glorious."
He rolled over slightly, propping himself on one elbow so he could look down at her. "Do you know how many times I stopped mid-step to check a message I couldn't respond to without blowing my cover?"
"Yeah," she said sweetly, "I had a pretty good idea."
Grayson gave her a mock-glare, then leaned down and kissed her again slow, deep, and full of the affection bubbling just under the surface. When he pulled back, his voice had softened.
"I don't know what the hell kind of spell you've been casting on me all day… but I'm not sure I want it to end."
She looked up at him, brushing her fingers across his jaw. "Maybe it's not a spell."
He held her gaze, heart thudding. "No?"
She shook her head, just a little. "Maybe it's just timing finally getting it right."
He stared at her for a beat, letting that sink in. Then he leaned down and kissed her again this one slower, a promise more than anything.
Grayson kissed her again slow this time, unrushed. The kind of kiss that says we're not done yet.
His hand slid down her back, fingers gliding over the curve of her waist, then lower, tracing the shape of her. Olivia shifted toward him instinctively, her body responding before either of them spoke a word.
He kissed her jaw, then her neck, then found her lips again deeper now. Hungrier.
His hand came up to her breast, cupping it fully. Her nipple was already hard beneath his palm, and when he brushed his thumb across it, Olivia's breath caught. Her back arched into his touch, mouth parting against his, and he took that small sound the moan in her throat as encouragement to keep going.
"You're so responsive," he murmured, lips dragging along the shell of her ear.
"It's your fault," she breathed, her voice already trembling.
He kissed her again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding over hers, coaxing her further under. The electric pull between them reignited with terrifying ease, but this time, there was no rush. Just the slow, coiling build of tension heat rising between them like a wave about to break.
Grayson rolled her gently onto her back, settling between her thighs. His body pressed fully against hers, the friction delicious. He dragged his palm across her other breast, fingers teasing her nipple until she moaned again, this time louder, less restrained.
She reached for him blindly, hands in his hair, her legs shifting beneath the sheets, thighs brushing against his hips as she pulled him closer.
"Grayson…"
God, he loved the way she said his name. Like it wasn't just sound it was permission. Invitation. Possession.
He kissed her again, and again, every pass of his lips matching the rhythm of his hand as it explored her chest, her waist, the soft inside of her thigh. She was already shifting beneath him, restless and wanting, her hips moving against his abs in small, pleading rolls.
Their kiss deepened messier now, wetter, full of shared breath and barely-suppressed urgency.
He groaned into her mouth, pressing harder against her body, letting her feel just how much she was driving him insane.
"You want more?" he whispered, his voice low and thick.
She nodded, eyes glassy, lips swollen. "Yes. God, yes."
He smiled against her skin, already slipping lower, ready to worship her all over again.
Before Grayson could deepen the kiss or guide her further, Olivia surprised him.
She shifted on top of him, rolling them smoothly so she straddled his hips, palms pressing into his chest. Her hair tumbled forward, brushing his face as she looked down at him, her eyes dark and hungry. And then she kissed him slow, hot, and consuming. Her mouth opened over his, her tongue stroking his with deep, deliberate passion. It wasn't rushed. It was claiming.
She kissed him like she couldn't get enough and he was starting to believe maybe she never would.
He tried to move with her, his hips instinctively rising, but her hands pressed him back against the bed, firm.
"Don't move," she whispered, her voice a low command that curled through him like smoke.
He obeyed.
Her lips left his mouth and found his neck, her breath warm against his skin. She kissed down slowly languid, exploratory like she was learning every inch of him with her mouth. Grayson's hands gripped the sheets beneath him as she moved lower, every kiss sending a jolt through his chest.
And then her mouth was on his pecs, lips brushing the same way he'd done to her not long ago. She took her time with each one, letting her tongue flick across his skin before laying another kiss.
Grayson watched her, completely transfixed.
But then she paused.
Her fingers lightly traced his chain silver, simple, and heavy against his chest. She lifted the ring that hung from it. The one he never took off. She stared at it for a moment, then pressed her lips gently to the ring, holding it there, before placing it carefully back on his chest.
Grayson sucked in a breath so sharp it nearly made him lightheaded.
No one had ever touched it like that. Let alone kissed it. No one had ever thought to treat it with that kind of quiet respect.
"My father's chain," he murmured, his voice low, shaken. "No one's ever..."He couldn't even finish the thought.
What was she doing to him?
Emotion and arousal collided inside him, and his body responded instantly cock twitching hard against his stomach, aching for her.
"Little Fox," he rasped, eyes blazing. "You're playing a dangerous game right now."
Olivia didn't stop. She kissed lower, across his ribs, down his stomach. Her hands were everywhere trailing, exploring, rubbing gently over his thighs, his abs, his hips. Every brush of her fingertips felt like fire licking his skin.
Grayson groaned as she moved between his legs, her lips brushing along his inner thigh then, she took him in her hand.
His cock pulsed at the contact, already so hard it was painful. She stroked him once, slow and deliberate, then leaned forward and gave the head of his cock a single, teasing lick.
Grayson arched up off the bed like she'd shocked him.
His breath punched out of him in one ragged moan. "Little Fox…"
She looked up at him with that wicked grin mischief and seduction wrapped in the same mouth that had just kissed his father's ring. And then she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, taking him into her mouth slowly, inch by inch.
"F-fuck," he hissed, his hands flying to the sheets beside him. His head dropped back, muscles flexing as she started a slow rhythm her lips tight, her tongue flicking as she slid up and down his shaft.
He could feel her adjusting to his size, taking her time, learning his body like it was hers to master. He didn't dare move. He let her lead.
"You feel so fucking good," he moaned, voice cracking.
"Mmm," she hummed around him, and the vibration made his thighs tense.
She started to pick up speed her mouth moving faster, her hand stroking where her lips couldn't reach, the wet glide of her movements driving him insane. Her other hand rested on his hip, keeping him grounded while she sucked him deeper, her throat beginning to open up to take more of him.
Grayson's control was slipping. Fast.
"Little Fox…" he groaned again, one hand slipping into her hair, fingers tightening gently. "I'm close. Tell me I can… please"
She gave a slight nod, her eyes flicking up to meet his. The smallest, sultry hum of approval was all it took.
Grayson let go.
His hips bucked as he guided her movements, gliding her up and down his cock faster, deeper. The sight of her mouth around him, her lips red and wet, her throat stretching to take him it was too much.
With one final thrust, he came hard, his whole body going rigid, mouth falling open in a raw, guttural moan as he spilled into her.
She didn't flinch. She took it all, steady and sure, her hands holding him through every wave of release.
And when he finally collapsed back into the bed, chest heaving, heart racing, she looked up at him like she knew exactly what she'd just done.
She did.
Grayson was utterly wrecked. Completely undone. And absolutely hers.
Grayson lay flat on his back, chest rising and falling in hard, uneven breaths.
He couldn't speak. Could barely think. His body was heavy, his blood still thrumming from release, and every nerve ending felt scorched—in the best fucking way.
Olivia moved slowly, crawling up his body with that same quiet, devastating confidence. She kissed his chest once, just above the chain she'd honored moments ago, and then settled beside him, her cheek resting against his shoulder.
He turned his head, eyes finding the curve of her jaw, the shine of her slightly swollen lips, the way her skin still glowed from the aftershock of what she'd just done to him.
To his body. To his mind.
"Jesus Christ," he whispered, voice wrecked. "What are you?"
Olivia gave a sleepy little smirk. "What do you mean?"
He let out a soft, breathless laugh, one hand moving up to rest in her hair. "You kiss my father's ring, then you blow my soul out of my body like it's nothing. That was…" He stopped, shaking his head slowly. "That was something else."
She lifted her head, chin propped on his chest now, looking up at him. "You okay?" she teased, eyes sparkling.
"I might never be okay again," he muttered, dragging a hand over his face.
And it wasn't just the sex not even close. It was everything that had happened in the last ten minutes. Her being on top. Her in control. The tenderness. The respect. The quiet power she carried as she touched him like she knew exactlyhow much it meant. She hadn't just made him come she'd completely disarmed him.
Grayson tilted his head and looked at her, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.
"No one's ever… done that," he said quietly.
She blinked. "What? Sucked your soul out through your ..?"
"No." He chuckled softly, catching her grin. "Not that. I mean… the ring. My dad's chain."
Her smile softened. "You still wear it every day. That matters."
He looked at her for a beat too long. "Yeah. It really does."
She dropped her head back onto his shoulder, and he kissed her hair, letting his hand glide gently down her spine.
"I should be terrified of how much I want you right now," he murmured. "And not just your body. All of you."
Olivia said nothing at first. Just exhaled against his chest, her fingers drawing slow circles over his ribs.
"I'm not going anywhere," she finally said.
Grayson closed his eyes, holding her a little tighter. "That's the part that scares me."
And yet… he didn't let go.
They stayed like that for a while—limbs tangled, hearts slowly settling back into rhythm. Grayson felt the weight of her against him, the warmth of her skin, the rise and fall of her breath. Every few seconds, he kissed the top of her head just because he could.
He'd never been more relaxed in his own bed.
Which was... alarming.
His fingers lazily traced the curve of her spine. "You know, this was not how I thought my evening would go."
Olivia gave a sleepy little laugh against his chest. "What, you didn't plan on having your life ruined in the best possible way?"
"Not before dinner."
She shifted just enough to look up at him. "So what was the plan, exactly?"
He pretended to think. "Room service. Maybe catching up on emails. Definitely not being emotionally disarmed and physically wrecked by a woman who sent me flirty texts from all over Manhattan like a heat-seeking missile."
Olivia grinned. "You liked it."
"I was on edge for hours," he said with mock indignation. "You nearly made me walk into traffic."
"Worth it."
Grayson smirked, his thumb brushing across her shoulder. "Yeah. It really was."
She snuggled closer, one leg slipping between his. "I can't believe how calm you are right now."
"What do you mean?"
"I just blew your mind, made you feel things you weren't ready for, and kissed your father's ring—and you're stillcoherent."
He grinned. "I'm hanging on by a thread."
She laughed softly, the sound low and close to his heart. He let his fingers drift through her hair again, soaking in the quiet.
After a beat, she murmured, "This feels… good."
"Yeah," he said quietly, staring at the ceiling. "It does."
There were so many things he could've said. Jokes. Deflections. Half-truths wrapped in charm. But he didn't want any of that. Not with her.
They stayed like that for a while limbs tangled, hearts slowly settling back into rhythm. Grayson felt the weight of her against him, the warmth of her skin, the rise and fall of her breath. Every few seconds, he kissed the top of her head just because he could.
He'd never been more relaxed in his own bed. Which was… alarming.
His fingers traced lazy circles on her back, his mind quiet but not completely still. After a long pause, he tilted his head, pressing a kiss to her temple.
"Will you be here in the morning, Little Fox?" he asked, softer than he intended more vulnerable than he liked to be.
She didn't answer right away.
But then she shifted closer, her arm sliding around him, cheek nestled against his chest. "I have no place I need to be at the moment."
The tension in his chest eased just enough for him to breathe again. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, grounding himself in the warmth of her body.
He swallowed. "Will you still be in the bed when I wake up?"
This time, she exhaled, her voice lower. "Grayson… I can't promise you that one."
She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. "That's another conversation. For another day."
He nodded slightly, though his heart skipped. But then she added, gently, "I can promise you I'll be here."
That promise simple, unspecific, but intentional wrapped around something deep inside him.
Grayson held her tighter, kissed her hair again. She didn't say anything more, but her breathing slowed, evened out. He could feel her slipping into sleep.
Grayson mind was spinning long as she was here, he knew he felt there'd be a next time. Grayson let his eyes drift shut, her body curled against his, the quiet city humming far in the distance.
Tomorrow, he mused, as he embraced her a bit more tightly. Tomorrow, I'll begin to understand the intricacies of my queen. With this thought, he allowed himself to drift into sleep.