And he was here…with me.

“So, that’s my story,” he said. His eyes looked off in the distance as if he was still lost in that tragic night.

“You made it through a lot and without any help. I mean, you didn’t even go to therapy or anything, right?”

Grant scoffed. “Therapy was the bottom of a bottle and a warm pussy.”

“That sounds like you. How did you survive when you were a kid though?”

“My guitar. It saw me through all the hard times,” he told me. “My guitar and the tags.”

I sighed as he mentioned the dog tags that were still hanging around my neck.

I slowly pulled them over my head. “Grant, I don’t know if I can keep wearing these.”

“What?” He looked astonished that I would even think of taking them off after he’d given them to me.

“I don’t think you or I should have a constant reminder of what happened. I think you should just…let it go.”

I knew it was easy for me to say. I hadn’t been there thirteen years ago. I hadn’t experienced what he had gone through. I had no idea what it would be like to see my mother die right before me, to see my father sent to jail, to feel the guilt that had clearly sunk into Grant at an early age.

“I can’t let it go,” he said the words like an insult. “I…you don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t,” I said, not letting him rile me up for once. “I could never understand. I’m sure few people could understand what you’ve gone through, Grant. But I want to.” I ran my hand up his arm.

“The tags…I know that they should hold the opposite feeling, that I should hate them…hate everything about them. But I don’t. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s a complete contradiction. One part of me knows that they’re not enough to keep me from ending up like him. The other part knows they’re the only link I still have to the only life I’ve ever been happy in. I lost both my parents in the same day. All I can remember is the bad—the memories, the inexplicable fucking horror of what occurred—but sometimes, when I look at them and when I look at you wearing them…I remember those earlier days. I remember when I didn’t feel the pain.”

Grant took the tags I still held in my hands and eased them back over my head. “Every time I see you, Princess, I feel better. Every single day, you push away the pain and the memories. You’re my life raft in an endless ocean. You saved me from drowning. You saved me from myself.”

I stopped breathing and just stared up into the depths of his chocolate orbs. Gold flecks at the center reflected back at me. In that moment, I saw every ounce of sorrow consuming him, but I also felt the warmth directed at me. Grant McDermott was baring his soul.

And the scariest part of it all was that I felt the exact same way. I hadn’t gone through what he had gone through, but Grant had still saved me. I’d thought I was happy becoming the person my parents had always wanted, but I’d never felt passion until Grant. And I’d never forget it.

My lips found his softly. He held me against him and took comfort in what I was giving him. I knew then, trapped in his arms and lost in his kisses, that I wanted this to move forward. I’d held back, wanting to give myself to someone I truly cared about, waiting for the right moment, waiting to feel ready. I could never be more ready than at this moment.

I took Grant’s hand and gingerly led him back toward the bed. My heart was hammering in my chest in anticipation, and words were stuck in my throat. He read the questions in my eyes and returned them with a kiss. He effortlessly lifted me onto the bed, and I slid backward while I unbuttoned my cardigan. He smiled as I tossed it to the ground.

Everywhere he touched me was igniting a fire on my skin. I couldn’t get enough of him, yet I was terrified of exposing myself like this. His fingers ran along my stomach, pushing the shirt aside, as he lay kisses across my milky skin. I sucked in at his touches, at his utter adoration of every inch of my imperfect body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. His tongue teased the edge of my belly button.

“You make me feel beautiful.”

He smiled knowingly up at me and unsnapped the button on my jeans. “You should always feel that way, inside and out.”

I flushed at his compliments. He wasn’t teasing me. He truly thought I was as beautiful as he’d said. Under that gaze, I couldn’t disagree with him.

My jeans followed my cardigan, and Grant’s shirt came off next. I admired his body in a way that I’d never really appreciated. I’d seen it before. I’d run my hands over it, but here in the light…God, he was gorgeous. He was tall and tanned with strong arms and six-pack abs. His tattoos were bold and prominent against his skin. He had those V lines that made girls go crazy, and I suddenly understood why.

His lips traveled to the hem of the lace thong I’d worn especially for this evening. I didn’t have any lingerie—I’d never had use for it before—so this was as good as it would get. Grant didn’t seem to mind. I yelped softly as he nipped at the tender skin before dragging the thong down my hip with his teeth.

My legs trembled softly in anticipation as he eased my legs apart and fluttered his fingers lightly along my inner thighs. I gasped at his warm breath before he experimentally flicked his tongue on my clit. I was so lost in all the emotions swirling between us that I already felt like I was feverish with need for him.

There was no hesitation. There was no holding back. There was only Grant and me. This was what it was supposed to be like.

I’d spent so much time thinking about what it would all be like and whether I’d be comfortable moving forward that I’d never let myself just be in the moment. But none of that anxiety plagued me tonight.

His tongue continued its work, making me squirm, and then I felt him ease two fingers inside me.

“Mmm,” he groaned. “You’re so wet.”

My cheeks heated at the admission. Everything about us being together right now was turning me on. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it made me tense anyway.

“It’s a good thing.”

He started moving his fingers in a come-hither motion inside me. That released all the tension I’d been holding.

“You know another good thing, Princess?”

Whatever his tongue is doing?

He swept his tongue across my lips again, and I whimpered.

“The way you taste.”

“Mmm?”

He repeated the motion. “You taste so fucking good.”

I felt the beginning buildup register in my core and radiate out through my body. No one else but Grant had ever made me feel this good. Or maybe I’d never dropped my defenses long enough to open myself up to this. Well, my body was open now, and it was all I could do to hold on to the covers before an orgasm arched my back right off the bed. I moaned as I rode out the wave of euphoria that followed.

“Nothing sexier than your face when you come.”

I smiled hesitantly and inched closer. “I think you should take these off,” I said, snapping the waistband of his boxer briefs. I fought for the confidence I always had outside the bedroom.

Grant was out of the rest of his clothes and pushing me back onto the bed again within a minute. Our bodies pressed tight, our lips melded together, my fingers digging into his hair, his grasping my hips desperately. I could feel the need rolling off of him in waves. And it was rolling off of me, too.

I could feel him ready between my legs, and Lord knows Grant had completely warmed me up.

“Ari,” he breathed into my neck before planting a soft kiss on the skin. “I want you tonight, love.”

My heart beat wildly at the pet name. He used a million-and-a-half different names as if they were commonplace but never that one.

“You always want me.”

He kissed me again. “That’s right. I do.”

I wanted to tell him to continue, but I didn’t know how.

As if sensing my unease, he spoke up, “Can I take you tonight?”

I swallowed hard, and after only a moment’s hesitation, I nodded. I wanted Grant McDermott like I’d wanted nothing else in my life. I definitely wanted him more than I wanted to keep my virginity.

Grant slipped on a condom he’d retrieved from the nightstand and then moved to cover my body again. He managed to look completely confident and hesitant at the same time. I wished I knew what he was thinking, but all I could concentrate on was what was about to happen. Fear pricked at the back of my mind, and I bit down on my bottom lip to try to dispel it.

This was Grant. This was what I wanted.

Our lips met softly, and then I felt his dick press up against me. My apprehension was palpable at this point. I swallowed, and he smiled softly.

“Ari, I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

I met his gaze. “Then, don’t.”

He kissed me again. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if I am.”

I nodded because I was too worried about what would come out of my mouth. Grant leaned over and tenderly kissed me once more. He eased forward slowly…so slowly in fact that I felt a slight tremble in his arms as he held himself back. He pressed farther into me, and it took everything I had not to clench up at the pressure.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growled.

A tremor tore through my body as he pulled back an inch and then pushed forward all the way into me. I fit around him like a glove. Despite the pressure and stretching, I felt complete, whole. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but not entirely comfortable either. In that moment, I realized my entire body was shaking.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brown eyes full of concern.