Grayson: An MM Friends To Lovers Romance

I imagined his fingertips brushing over my slit, gathering my wetness before sliding those pretty fingers into his perfect mouth, where I could watch him lick and suck my precum off his coated digits.

And then I imagined kissing him, letting my tongue roll over his, biting, sucking at his bottom lip like a goddamned lollipop until I could taste myself. I imagined his wet cock sliding against my own, hard and slick, erupting over the both of us.

I nearly slid against the tile as my orgasm pushed forth, the sound of ecstasy leaving my throat a strained, deep sound that was somewhere between a moan and a plea for mercy.

My cock pulsed, throbbing as I came and I tried to catch my breath.

It felt like forever until I’d gone soft, until I’d come back down from whatever dimension my astronomical orgasm had taken me to. Water ran down my face, down my arms and chest, washing away my fantasies like the sins they truly were.

CHAPTER 9

Grayson

When I’d dressed in clean clothes, I felt a fraction better, but there was still the matter of my stomach. While Henry’s impromptu breakfast had been good, it was nearing noon. I checked my pockets of my clothes from the previous night, expecting to find my wallet, but it was not there. Panic flooded me as I retraced my steps, trying to remember where I’d put it or if I’d left it in my car.

It seemed to be missing from my house entirely. It wasn’t in the kitchen, or the bathroom or… I rushed outside and pulled open the car door, a quick check of my glovebox revealed that was certainly not the case. I trudged back inside, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose as I tried to force the memories to reveal where I’d left the damn thing.

My eyelashes fluttered as reality rushed over me, because I knew it would cost me—in ways that had nothing to do with my wallet.

Because the truth was, the likeliest of places my wallet probably was, was at Henry’s house.

But I couldn’t just show up at his house hours after leaving like some crazy motherfucker. That would be far too stalker-ish.

So instead, I pulled up my text, and sent my sister a text.

Do you happen to have Henry’s number?

True to her nature, my sister let me stew a moment before answering, which only meant this truly was going to be a bargain.

I do… But why do you need it?

I cursed as I tapped out my response, knowing full well I was at her mercy.

Because I think I may have accidentally left my wallet at his house.

Giselle texted me a string of judgmental emojis, complete with a kissy face.

I think someone is smitten.

I sighed in repose.

It’s not like that. It’s just an honest mistake, and I’d like to get it back.

A string of emojis burst on my screen, followed by her response.

I mean, that’s like the oldest play in the book, Gray.

She wasn’t wrong, it was rather cliché, but it wasn’t like I’d planned to do such things. I could scheme just as good as anyone else, but I’d never stoop to such basic ploys to land a man. I had other charms for that.

Sure enough though, my words did not dissuade her from wheeling and dealing.

I’ll give it to you if you promise to come to dinner tonight.

I grit my teeth, but I knew I would say yes. Especially if I wanted my wallet back.

Fine.

And when she sent over his number in a flash, I knew my fate was sealed.