Stars (Penmore #1) Page 10

  “Babe, if I injure my throwing arm, the university would pitch a fit.”

  “Oh. Well, in that case, I start at 8pm on Saturday.” I can’t imagine that if he was willing to leave his mom living alone for his education, he would ever risk his scholarship.

  “Good. I’ll head home after the game, shower and get into my costume. Granted, babe, you should know I don’t give a fuck what the university will do if I need to send a message to someone not to touch my girl.”

  Well, I guess I was wrong. It’s probably really bad of me to be turned on by that, right?

  Instead of thinking about what a horrible person I am, I decide to remind Grayson that, “We have only gone on one date.”

  Then I get hit with Grayson logic.

  “Stars, you look for me when I’m not around?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You get excited when I text?”

  “Okay, yes.”

  “You like when I kiss you?”

  “Well, obviously.”

  “Babe, you’re mine.”

  GRAYSON

  Lucky’s was swarming with sexual tension and skimpily clad bodies. From all the guys on the team talking about their costumes, most people I knew were planning on attending the Halloween bash. However, the crowd of superheroes, flapper girls and naughty cops was even larger than I anticipated. Everyone was drunk off their asses. There is no fucking way I would be here if it weren’t for Stars.

  Marissa probably would have begged and nagged me into making an appearance, knowing that if I told anyone I was coming hundreds would follow, but she eventually would have conceded. She knows how much I hate drunks, or worse, the attention I manage to attract once I’m amongst Herons supporters. But knowing my girl had to work tonight on top of Marissa’s love of dressing her workers in skimpy Halloween costumes, there was no way I wasn’t standing guard.

  After nodding to Bo, I made my way to the center bar. I knew most of the girls would need to touch base with the main bartender tonight, and Maris always put the best at the center of her establishment.

  The guy was exactly where I thought I would find him, right behind the center bar, filling shots for a group of Playboy bunnies, in a Batman costume. It was actually a pretty impressive get-up. I could only just make out his sharp jaw line and see his lips and chin.

  For all I knew, Maris had hired George Clooney to work for her. No wonder the bunnies were providing him with all their attention.

  I give him a quick nod before I start scanning the room for Stars.

  It doesn’t take me long to work out what Marissa has made all of her waitresses dress up as tonight.

  Every girl carrying a drink tray is dressed in a latex Catwoman costume with a zipper that runs down the middle of her body from neck to crotch. Nearly all of the girls have the zipper open to the point of indecency, exposing a hell of a lot of cleavage.

  I’m going fucking stir-crazy each time I see a waitress bend over and take someone’s order, because every time their tits nearly fall into the guy’s face. If it weren’t for the blonde hair I kept seeing underneath their cat ears, I might be throwing punches. Just the idea that a lot of guys might have seen my girl’s amazing chest unclothed, before I even have a chance to see it, pisses me off. I’m just about to approach one of the waitresses and ask if she’s seen Parker when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

  I turn to find Batman, the bartender, pointing to a rowdy group of freshmen sitting in a corner both with a waitress trying to place their beers on the small accompanying side table. I see that they have the most covered Catwoman serving them, her zipper done up all the way to her collarbone, and the sight of her brown curling hair makes me exhale with relief. Until I notice the offensive gestures each of the guys is making at her, revealing that they apparently have an issue with not getting the same show some of the other patrons have been experiencing.

  Just as I’m about to reach her, one of the fattest idiots starts reaching for her zipper and I hear him mutter the words, “Fucking prude.”

  I believe it was really perfect timing that their pitcher of beer was brand-spanking new and my girl had just placed it on a moveable table, like watching Leyton run past the fifty-yard line.

  I knew exactly what I needed to do.

  In less than a second, I was able to lift the black metallic stand, watch their beer fly into the air and pour all over their cheap gangsta costumes.

  I did promise Parker I wouldn’t hit anyone tonight, after all.

  They’re still cursing when I decide to get my girl the fuck away from their bullshit and take her to the one place I knew in this shithole that would offer us privacy and a chance for me to cool off before I broke any of my promises.

  PARKER

  Grayson pulls me into the storeroom before I have the opportunity to growl at him for pouring beers on those obnoxious customers.

  Did they deserve it? Fuck yes.

  Should the guy I’m dating come into the place I work and throw things at the people spending money? I’m guessing Marissa would probably state that was a definite no.

  I lock the door as Gray flicks the light on and begins pacing back and forth in the small room.

  While he walks out his frustration, I take in the metal and wooden shelves filled with boxes of alcohol, spare glasses and cleaning supplies. I’m actually surprised. Marissa must have spent some quality time cleaning the room recently; there are several shelves empty and the space doesn’t seem as cramped as it usually does.

  Before I’m able to continue contemplating Marissa’s new and improved organizational skills, Gray reaches out, grasps my wrist and tugs me toward his body. I look up into his piercing eyes as he slowly walks me backward until my lower back bumps into one of the shelves. “Don’t like your job, babe,” Gray growls, his eyes boring into mine.

  “I know tonight isn’t ideal. I’ll definitely try and make it up to you tomorrow. I just need you to promise not to upset any more customers.” My pulse speeds up as he leans in to me, his hands moving from my arms to rest on the shelf above my head, boxing my body in underneath his. “Not sure if I can make that promise. I’m a smart guy, but I lose all ability to think when dickheads are treating you like shit. Still struggling not to break my promise about hitting anyone tonight. I can’t believe those fuckers nearly touched you.” His body pressing so closely against mine, I can’t help but get turned on. Really, anytime Grayson uses the word ‘touching’ in a sentence, I’m done. My breathing quickens, and I struggle to say, “Try really hard,” before my eyesight travels to his lips. Shit, of course I had to use the word ‘hard.’ Now I feel like I’m on the verge of whimpering.

  “Deal. It’s worth repeating that I don’t like your job. But I should let you know I do like your outfit,” he murmurs as his eyes track the long line of my costume’s zipper. “Also worth mentioning that I’m glad you didn’t have your zipper open showing your cleavage like some of the other girls.” He slowly moves his hand from leaning against the shelf to the top of my zipper.

  He rubs his thumb over the small silver tag that rests against my collarbone, as if admiring the accessory, his fingers slightly brushing against the top of my chest.

  Until he stops and whispers into my ear, “Feel like maybe I should quickly show you just how much…”

  Gray proceeds to lick my earlobe and gently drag the zipper down.

  At first, he merely exposes my smooth, milky skin and the valley between my breasts to the cool air and his hungry gaze.

  Watching his fierce appreciation, I can feel myself begin to drip with anticipation.

  After softly running his fingers along my skin, he continues to drag down the zipper until my breasts are completely free from the tight constraints of latex fabric, stopping at my belly button. He slowly traces his fingertips along the edge where the fabric meets my skin.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he growls before lowering his body and scraping his teeth gently against my exposed skin, touching the edges of my
hard, pink nipples. He bites down on each point, licking away the momentary pain. I’m struggling to keep my panting breath quiet, because with each new inhale he moves faster. He starts to make open-mouthed kisses down my body until he reaches the edge of the zipper resting above my crotch.

  I once thought I would never be confident enough to be with Gray in a crowded place, but his tongue skimming across my soft skin causes my body to pulsate with need. I completely forget where we are and anything else I should be doing.

  The desperate urge to fall from the cliff I feel myself hanging from builds within me.

  As Gray drops further, he uses his strong arms to lift me so some of my ass is now resting on the shelf behind me and my legs are over his shoulders.

  He takes only a moment to look deeply into my eyes and find my approval before slowly undoing the final section of my zipper. Revealing my bare lips to his eager tongue. I was really fucking grateful that this costume didn’t allow for panties. Although, unlike the attention he paid to my chest, he starts gently. Driving me crazy with slow, circular licks over my clit, followed by long strokes over and between my folds.

  I hear myself panting and softly moaning Grayson’s name.

  I use one hand to reach above my head and grasp the shelf above me, the other to run my fingers through Gray’s thick hair. I feel as if I’m caught in a fierce twister that is about to blow me apart. And I’m left trying to grip on to anything. To everything.

  His tongue starts to move rapidly; the tension builds in my body and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. His slow, circular licks and long strokes over my clit become harder, shorter, crazed movements, causing me to jerk and hold on for dear life.

  I think I start whispering, “I’m so wet for you,” but all I can focus on is the whirling emotion that’s trapped within my body and Gray moving between my legs.

  Just when the natural disaster wreaking havoc within my body has become tormenting, Gray pushes two fingers inside of me over and over again. Oh, yes, right there.

  Then everything crashes.

  Metaphorically and literally.

  Not only do I fall onto Grayson, my body collapsing after its devastating release, but I accidently knock a box of empty glasses that was resting by my hand off the shelf.

  Bang.

  “Is everything okay in there?” Marissa asks from outside, while trying to open the locked door.

  Holy shit, that’s super embarrassing. Thank God I locked the door. At least I learned something from all of my years watching Grayson: always lock the door.

  “Yeah, Maris, everything’s good. Parker and I will be out in a second, I’m just calming down.” Replace anything I break,” he tells her, helping me to my feet before he pulls me in closely to rest his head on top of mine.

  “Good, don’t come out until you can stop yourself from abusing any more of my clientele,” she replies before we hear the click click of her heels as she walks away.

  “You’re calming down?” I ask before I burst out laughing. With our bodies pressed tightly against one another, I could feel how excited Grayson was. That is until the reality of our actions sinks in.

  Oh, my God. I just let Grayson go down on me in the storeroom at work. Oh, God, I just talked dirty to Grayson Waters! Oh, no. That’s humiliating. Shit. I’ve really got to start skipping the sex scenes in the books I read. Especially if it means I start talking to Grayson like that. Oh, fuck. I can’t leave this room. I can’t look at him.

  Good thing Marissa cleared some things away. My coffin will definitely fit in here now.

  “Babe, stop freaking out,” he says as he moves back to look me in the eyes. “Love that you aren’t a prude, because that was the hottest thing I have ever seen.” He kisses my bare shoulder and re-zips my catsuit.

  I can’t help but just stand there and stare at him, finally taking in his Halloween costume.

  Grayson Waters is wearing an adult Spiderman suit, just without a mask. The spider webs that wrap around his body help highlight his six-pack and the skin-tight fabric reveals not only his exceptional pectoral muscles, but also how hot he had found my dirty talk.

  The fact that he’s wearing an adult version of the costume I saw him in when I was five causes me to burst into hysterical laughter and hug him until we’re both swaying in place.

  “You going to let me in on the joke?” He adjusts himself and gets ready to walk us out.

  “Nope,” I hold his hand and unlock the door. “Do you think we should clean up the mess we made?” I ask, taking one last look at the box on the floor, which I am sure is filled with broken glasses.

  “Nope,” says Grayson as he grins at me then throws his arm over my shoulder.

  The realization that I have to go back to work as we step through the door completely annoys me.

  How does one memorize drink orders when they have the ability to recall the feel of Gray’s fingers and mouth exploring their body?

  PARKER

  I place my drink tray on the counter with the last of my remaining energy and ask Nate to start cashing me out. I’m done for the night. I’m completely exhausted and ready to plead with Grayson to stay at my place for the first time so I can cuddle and fall sleep in his arms. A small smile tugs at my lips knowing it won’t take much time convincing him.

  “Surprise!” Millie yells enthusiastically before she jumps up and hugs me from behind.

  After all the excitement of the evening, I was ready to collapse in a heap. But when I finally manage to shake Millie off my back and turn around I see she, however, is ready to party. She is dressed like Poison Ivy, her naturally vibrant, curly red hair pulled away from her pixie face by a green headband with large plastic leaves sticking up like a tiara. Her dancer’s figure is encased in a tight green corset with green leggings, also covered in plastic leaves. I can’t help but grin when my gaze lands on her hot pink Converse sneakers. She always wears her sneakers. While I’m checking out her outfit, Millie is checking out Nate behind the bar in his Batman costume.

  “Damn, he’s good-looking. Must be something in the waters,” Millie draws out, taking another long look at Nate wiping down the counter before bringing her amused eyes back to me.

  “You’ve been wanting to say that for a while, haven’t you,” I say, forgetting my fatigue to chuckle at Millie’s bad pun.

  “Pretty much since the moment you called me and told me he had an almost identical brother who worked behind the bar,” she replies, returning her gaze briefly to Nate and smiling wide.

  “What time did your plane land?” I ask, knowing she must have caught the red-eye seeing as she sold her little Subaru to afford local college courses back home.

  “Later than I expected. I really thought I would have a chance to party with you and even got my costume to match,” she tells me, slightly pouting as she takes in the empty club.

  “Sorry, babe, but you missed all of the drama.”

  “Well, not all the drama, I can’t wait to tell Grayson that it’s about time he noticed you,” she says, looking over my shoulder. I turn and see Grayson walk out of the storeroom to put a trash bag filled with broken glass in a bin. Marissa made him go in and clean it up earlier. When she told him he needed to ‘clean up his own mess,’ he had just given me a smirk and informed her that it would be his pleasure. I’m just about to wave Grayson over when I realize what Millie said. Oh, no. I didn’t tell her I was still, maybe, just a little bit hiding my identity from Grayson.

  I kept meaning to tell him, I really did. But then I would remember how it felt not to hear from Grayson for five days. How it felt to watch from the outside. And then each and every time I planned to tell him, I chickened out.

  And, shit, I also suddenly realize that Grayson will know who Millie is.

  Now, I might have gone to incredible—some might say ludicrous—lengths to remain invisible all through school from Grayson. Camille Monroe, on the other hand, does not possess a single unassuming, quiet or subtle bone in her body.


  Her flaming-red hair, constant love triangles with members of the baseball team and attraction to dramatic circumstances ensured that everyone at our high school knew of Millie.

  Hell, even the seniors did, when she was only a freshman.

  Partly because most of the baseball players she dated were seniors.

  If Grayson sees her acting like my best friend, he might put two and two together. Especially seeing as, on more than one occasion, he’s asked if he had seen me before at a football game or frat party because I seemed familiar.

  I suddenly start pushing her toward the bar. “Nate, I need you to hide her,” I say, knowing he’ll help me without question.

  “Parker, what the hell? Stop. What are you doing? Why can’t I say hi to Grayson?” she questions as I finally manage to shove her into Nate, who immediately turns his body and causes her tiny figure to go out of sight.

  Thank God he has broad shoulders.

  “Hey, babe, you ready for me to take you home?” Gray asks as he reaches me, unaware of the angry redhead currently being blocked by his disguised brother.

  “Yep, just finishing up everything here and helping with closing the till. Meet me outside?” I bat my eyelashes and cross my fingers, hoping he won’t ask why I’m suddenly breaking out in a sweat.

  “Sure,” he replies, kissing my forehead and walking toward the exit.

  *****

  “You promise you’re okay with this?” I ask quickly, afraid that Grayson is going to walk back through the doors any moment now and demand to know what’s taking so long.

  “You want me to hide at Nate’s apartment because you, Miss ‘never cheat on a test’ and ‘never jaywalk if there is a crossing,’ are lying to your boyfriend about who you are and are afraid I’ll give away the big secret?”