GRAYSON

"What are you doing here?"

Nessa took slow steps toward me. She had on this dark red, flirty sundress with buttons up the front, and I wanted to undo every one of them. It had been a crazy first week of the semester, and I'd barely seen her. I'd barely touched her. I missed her.

"You're here," she replied simply.

"Is something wrong?"

The hint of a smile on her face told me nothing was wrong. But still, every inch of me was in alert mode. I thought she had class this afternoon. What was she doing here?

She shook her head. "Keep playing."

"Nessa..."

Something was up. And I wanted to know what it was. Her grin curled wider, though, and it reassured me. So I kept playing. It was a Bach prelude, repetitive but with just enough movement and drama to make me want to lean in when the chords shifted.

Nessa's presence materialized behind me. Weight rested on my shoulders. Releasing the keys, I reached up to grab her wrists, bringing her hands over my eyes.

"I've been trying to practice with my eyes closed. Find some trust in my muscles again."

Lips brushed the column of my neck, making a shiver run through me. "Yeah?"

I sank back into the song, playing it a few beats per measure faster than I was sure Bach intended. But I would bet a lot of money that he didn't have a hot girl looking over his shoulder when he wrote it, making his heart pound faster.

"Yeah," I said. "I've been working on trying to feel the keys. Blocking out anything but my fingers and the notes. But I get halfway through the song and end up cheating. Every time. I have no restraint."

A heavy pause. "I know that's not true."

"It is," I argued, momentarily slowing my fingers as I second-guessed the next note. "I keep peeking."

Nessa made a humming noise in the back of her throat. "Good thing I'm here then."

I smiled. "Kinda what I was thinking."

Nessa's hands stayed firmly over my eyes, but her lips wandered, leaning into the song and into me, proving she was just as in tune with the melody as I was.

And then she was gone. Her hands, her lips, her warmth behind my back.

Curious, I opened my eyes to find that Nessa had climbed on top of the piano. She twisted to face me, letting her legs dangle over the keys. It felt reminiscent of the gala, but Nessa slid across the top until she was in the middle. Directly in front of me. Each foot brushed one of my hands. She kicked her sandals to the floor.

Leaning back on her palms, Nessa looked down at me beneath her lashes, and I nearly lost it.

"No peeking," she said when she found me watching.

But then she spread her legs, and I had no idea why she thought I'd be able to look away. The space between her thighs was dark, hidden beneath the canopy of her flimsy dress. Shadowed valleys of smooth skin. I wanted to bury my face there.

I groaned. "Now you're doing the opposite of being helpful, Nessa."

"You missed a note," she said, ignoring me.

"How would you know?"

"You play this one a lot. Now focus, will you?"

Nessa had listened to me practice over the summer countless times. She liked to curl up in my parents' living room and read while I played. I didn't realize she'd paid that close attention, though.

"Sorry if you're sick of it," I said, refusing to tear my gaze away from her.

"Could never be sick of something Grayson Everett plays." She cocked her head to the side and let her voice drop an octave. "Have I ever told you how hot it gets me when I watch you play?"

"Yes." I nearly choked on the word. My eyes flicked between her legs, wondering what I'd find if I touched her. When I touched her. "You hot, baby?"

She spread her legs wider, and I caught a glimpse of lacy underwear. "When it comes to you? Always."

Before I could say another word, Nessa began to slide over the edge of the piano. Both legs snaked between my arms so she could slip onto my lap without making me miss a note. I wasn't entirely convinced I had missed a note before, and I wasn't about to miss one now. I had this odd determination to impress her, even though I knew I didn't need to.

"Look at me," she said. She was close enough now that I felt her breath brush against the stubble on my jaw. "No peeking at your hands."

Her weight felt heavenly in my lap, and I leaned into her body, blinking upwards. "Wouldn't dream of looking away from you."

Nessa smiled and fell back. She arched over the keys and leaned against the music stand, raising her arms lazily above her head. A display just for me. Yeah, no way in hell I could look away. My hands danced on the keys around her, slowing down but still playing. Still not missing a note.

Raking my eyes over her, I breathed in. And then out. Steady. I needed to keep playing steadily. 131 beats per minute. My own heart rate sped up, and I knew I was about to do 131 heartbeats in one minute with Nessa Elez, too.

Lowering her arms again, Nessa caught my eyes while slowly undoing the top button on her dress. And then another. And another, until the gentle swell of her cleavage teased me.

132. 132 beats per minute.

She must have known that I was about to say fuck it because then she whispered, "Focus."

"Adler..." I was focused. I was very focused on finishing this song so I could finish her. Thank God for muscle memory. It was working overtime right now.

133.

Lifting her hips, she answered my breathy plea by grinding against me. Her top was open down to her belly button now, and she wasn't wearing a bra, and I was hoping and praying for any sort of sudden breeze that could help me out. Her gumdrop nipples peaked beneath the red dress with its tiny white polka dots, innocent in a way that Nessa wasn't. Not right now anyway.

Normally I would worship the designer who created something that fit Nessa so perfectly, so beautifully. But today? This dress and whoever designed it and I...we were enemies. It needed to disappear. It clung too well to all the places I wanted to see.

Reaching out, Nessa dragged a hand down my chest, and my body reacted with a visceral surge of desire. I ached for her. My cock pressed against the zipper of my pants in a way that was painful.

"It's too much," I rasped.

"No, it isn't." She shook her head, and wisps of hair fell out of the messy bun on top of her head. "Focus on your hands."

I closed my eyes, trying to feel the music. It wrapped around me, like Nessa's legs. It dipped like her curves. It crescendoed like her raspy breaths, like her aroused whimpers. I felt the music, and I felt her.

134. 134 beats.

My muscles didn't only remember this song. They also remembered what it was like to play Nessa.

A groan. "I want to touch you."

"Finish the song, Grayson."

She wasn't waiting until the end of the song, though. Her hand cupped me through my pants, and I came down harder on the keys, taking out what I wanted to do to her on them.

"Adler," I repeated, harsher this time. I couldn't do this.

My girlfriend ignored me. A tugging around my waist told me that Nessa was undoing my belt, and when her fingers began to dip into my pants, I thought I was going to drown in an ocean of desire. I gritted my teeth together, grinding until pain mixed with pleasure.

"Restraint, baby," she breathed.

"I don't have any," I bit out.

Not when it came to her.

"Yes, you do. I know you do."

Even though I couldn't see her face, I heard the smirk in her voice. The throaty need. The encouragement.

I shook my head. "No."

Lips brushed across mine briefly. She smelled so good, so Nessa-y. At least 140 beats per minute. We were at 140 beats per minute now. At least. "Yes, Grayson," she cooed.

"Wrap that pretty little hand around my dick," I murmured against her mouth. "Please."

Somewhere in the back of my mind, behind the music and the tension and the fire in my veins, I knew I was begging. But I just didn't care.

Nessa didn't care, either. She obeyed within seconds. And there was a part of me that deeply, deeply regretted it. She felt amazing, all wrapped around me. And I wanted so fucking badly to wrap my hands around her, too.

Unable to resist any longer, I opened my eyes. But I didn't dare look at my hands. I didn't want to slip up. Not now, not when I was so close. But there was no denying how much I wanted to see her. Nessa was watching me with those big, brown eyes. And she kept watching me as she lifted her free hand to play with her tits.

"Fuck."

Sucking in, I had to close my eyes for a moment. I had to focus on the feeling of the keys and the next part of the song that I'd played a million times before. When I had it under control, when I could visualize the chord progressions, I rewarded myself by opening my eyes again. And I groaned. Such a hot, needy girl.

"I like it when you watch me," she said after a long beat.

"That's good. Because I like watching you." I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "Now show me more, darling."

Begging again. I was begging again. But I was at the part of the song where it built up and spilled over, and I was about to spill over, too. The beats were out of control. Unmeasurable.

Nessa undid more of the buttons on her dress until it was gaping wide, slipping over her breasts and barring them. Her nipples puckered as the air hit them, and my mouth watered.

We were silent. Well, not totally silent. We were both shamelessly panting, loud enough that I could hear it above the piano's vibrating strings and the pedal's soft clunking. It was a moment filled with realization.

"This is my fantasy," I finally said.

"I know."

Oh, she knew alright. Everything about how she was smiling at me right now told me that she knew. And God, did I love her for it.

"Let me finish it, Nessa."

Please. Dear lord, I just needed to mesh Nessa and this song together until I couldn't tell where the melody ended, and her beautiful sighs took over. Until I couldn't tell where I ended, and she began. I needed this. Ever since that night when she first sat on the piano and I told her to spread her legs for me, I'd needed this.

But Nessa muttered, "Not yet."

She pushed off the piano, sitting straight as she wrapped one arm around my neck and stroked me with her free hand. I groaned into her shoulder before lifting my head.

"Then you do it," I begged. "Fuck me, Adler." I nipped at her earlobe. "If you're wet enough to take it."

Nessa returned the favor, sucking a sensitive spot beneath my ear. "Of course I am," she whispered.

My hands faltered on the keys, but I was astounded that they'd been keeping their pace at all. When I started up again, I closed my eyes and increased my speed. Nessa's hand gripped the back of my neck, and she lifted off my lap while bringing my rock-hard erection between her legs. Lace grated against my sensitive tip, and then it was pushed to the side. And everything was wet and glorious.

When Nessa sank down onto me, I froze. Paralyzing pleasure—that was what she gave me. She never disappointed. And yet, it still felt like a surprise every time. Like an entire shock to my system. Nessa was my dream for so long, and being inside her was a wake-up call. She was real. And she was mine.

Mine. All fucking mine.

"One of the first times I've been glad you're not wearing tights," I said, unable to keep my hands from drifting off the keyboard and to her ass, squeezing.

"Grayson," she whimpered.

Goddamn it. Whenever she said my name like that, it drove me to madness. But if I was going to go mad, this was the way I wanted to do it. My eyes flew open to find my vision blocked by a mass of long, dark brown hair. She must have let it down. It smelled like traces of vanilla and something else I couldn't name, and I breathed it in, thinking I could die by suffocating in Nessa's hair and be a happy man.

"Say my name again," I demanded, my voice hoarse.

Nessa kissed my neck, whispering against my skin. "Grayson."

Shit. She slid up and down, coating my cock with everything that was Nessa. And it was too good. I wasn't going to survive getting fucked like this. A growl ripped from my throat.

"Fuck this." Grabbing her by the waist, I lifted Nessa onto the keys, letting ugly chords drown out her cries as I stood to take control, thrusting into her deep and hard.

"Grayson," she gasped, "you didn't finish."

Shaking my head, I silenced her with an admittedly sloppy kiss. I didn't give a damn about the song. All I cared about was how our bodies collided and our tongues twisted. All I cared about was that deep moan in Nessa's throat. It did things to me, all throughout my body. Maybe even more than how her pussy kept sucking me in, time and time again.

Eventually, I wrenched my lips off of her mouth and focused on the drive of my hips into hers.

"Nessa, the only thing I care about finishing is you."

Her lips curled in an amused smile that quickly vanished as I hit that perfect spot of hers. Her eyes rolled back, and I tried not to smirk.

I failed.

"Feels good, huh?"

"You know it does, you cocky ass," she panted, her fingers digging into the back of my neck.

Chuckling, I grabbed her legs, spreading her out and hoisting her up higher to take some of my weight off of her. I didn't want her to take the brunt of my eagerness. But good God, I was eager.

Sinking in and out of her again, I said, "But I want to hear you."

"It feels good." Her words came out as gasps, and her nails dug into my skin. "It feels so good."

"I know," I groaned.

It was still hard for me to believe that she allowed me to feel something so good. That she allowed me to fuck her like this all the time. That she wanted it like I wanted it.

"Please tell me you locked the door," I said lowly before thrusting deeper. Not that I would stop if she said she hadn't.

Her lips tilted up. "I locked the door."

This wild girl, goddamn.

Reluctantly, I settled back onto the piano bench, bringing Nessa down hard on top of me. She moaned, clenching around my erection in a way that made me grip her sides hard before laying her back over the keys again. And then, after pushing her dress up around her hips, I watched. I watched myself slide into her. And then I watched as Nessa rolled her body in a wave, riding me slowly.

"Look, Nessa."

Her eyes lowered, and she watched, too. She watched as I dipped my fingers between her thighs, playing with her clit while we rocked together.

"I think you were made for me," I whispered. "Do you see how perfectly we fit together?"

"I see it," she gasped.

A hot, burning sensation was building inside me, and it nearly robbed my breath from my lungs.

So I stayed quiet, taking it all in appreciatively before finding Nessa's brown gaze. She was on the verge of something; I could tell. But it was more than just an orgasm. More than just a release. Her cheeks were flushed, and her mouth was parted in a way that made me ache to kiss her. But mostly, it was her eyes. They were wide, telling me an entire story.

And then, out of her lips spilled the truth. "I'm so in love with you."

She said it in a pained way, but I understood.

I was so in love with her, too, and sometimes, it hurt. The emotion, how I felt about her, it was too big. It was too much to fit in one body. And that was why we needed two. It was why we needed both of us, pulling and pushing and sharing. Sometimes my love required more room than I had. That was why I needed to be inside her. I needed her to take some of it.

And shit, she was taking it. She was taking it deep.

"You're doing so good, baby," I groaned, pressing down on her lower stomach, wanting her to feel all of me inside her. "Just a little more."

Nessa threw her head back, crying her release with hot noises I'd never forget. She tightened around me, and I let go, too. Shaking. Pulsing. Living.

Nessa. Nessa. Nessa.

Bowing my head down against hers, I breathed in. "I'm beyond in love with you, Wednesday."

Trying to find her breath, she laughed, all broken and faltering.

For a few long moments, we rested there. I pulled Nessa tight against my chest, wanting to hold her and let her relax in my arms. She was shaking, and I knew her muscles were probably screaming from trying to stay on my lap that whole time.

Brushing her hair out of her face, I asked, "Tell me the truth. Did you plan all that? Is that why you came to find me?"

She smiled shyly. "Not quite. I have class here."

"Class?"

"MUS 312."

"That's..." I double-checked in my brain that I wasn't misremembering. But no. "That's my class."

Her smile grew. "I know."

Warmth wrapped its arms around me. Warmth was being with Nessa.

"We have the same class?"

She nodded excitedly, and I sucked in a breath when I realized that she was finally chasing tiny bits of her own dreams. My heart expanded in my chest.

Pulling back, Nessa began redoing the buttons on her dress. I knocked her hand to the side, wanting to do it myself. Looking down at her and those flushed cheeks, I shook my head.

"Sitting next to you will be detrimental to my concentration today."

Nessa raised a brow. "Just today?"

"Every day," I corrected. "But right now, you look thoroughly fucked."

She laughed, and it was a glorious sound. Better than any goddamn song I'd ever played.

"Wonder why that is."

💗
oop. well, i couldn't not recreate that one texting conversation, and I wanted it to be grayson POV.

thoughts?

thanks for reading! much love to you all!
xoxo amelie