Be Careful What You Wish For. 3

Be Careful What You Wish For.

Still Grace's P.O.V.
He gasped and his eyes opened and he looked me, "How could I forget..." he whispered.

I smiled, knowing he was reminiscing that time in Manhattan where he had let me brush my fingers over his bulge...but on top of his jeans.

This time he wasn't going to have as much protection.

He sighed as I craftily and slowly slid down the zipper on his jeans, relieving the tension of the material that was being stretched beyond its limits.

He was nervous. I could tell as he was gripping my waist ever more tighter, his finger nails were even digging into my flesh.

I thought about my next move. I wanted his jeans gone but didn't want to scare him by yanking them off his person, I should really let him do it himself if he was comfortable to do so but I could be waiting here all night and I wasn't willing to wait much longer.

I slid my daring finger across the tiny part of the elasticated waistband of his boxers that was showing, causing goosebumps to appear on his skin and a shiver to surge through his body.

"Are these coming off?" I whispered, purposefully breathing on his neck whilst I gave the now unfastened waist line of his jeans a tug.

His eyes were glazed over with a sheen of nervousness and sexual frustration.

His words were caught in his throat, he looked at me wanting to say something but nothing came out.

I teasingly drew patterns on his chest, going lower and lower towards his bulge, driving him mad and making him argue with himself in his head.

His eyes were telling me yes but his worried expression told me no.

My eyes were on my finger that was playing about the small, black line of stomach hair that formed under his belly button and went into his pants.

I felt his head moving and was shocked to see him nodding. I had permission to remove his jeans.

Michael's P.O.V.
I was hot. My palms were sweaty. My heart was palpitating. My breathing quick. But I felt alive.

I'd shocked myself for even getting this far. I understood now that I'd been a little eager in the beginning and she wanted to slow me down. To chill me out. Relax me a little. And it was working. I was being blinded by her beauty. I felt extremely privileged that she trusted me enough to show me her body when I knew she wasn't entirely comfortable with it. But she had no reason to be, she was utterly perfect in my eyes and I could not take my stare away from her beautiful physique. To feel her bare skin against mine was an honour in itself and something I wanted to carry on having the opportunity to feel. Her kiss was magnificent and it captivated me, her flirtatious little one liners provoked me even more,

Of course I remembered what she did to me in Manhattan. I've been thinking about it ever since. Her soft touches were extremely seductive and I was heavily turned on and she knew it. Hell. She could probably feel it with how close her fingers were right now. I was nervous and I was scared but I trusted her and she eased me with her laid back approach. All of this made me nod my head at the request of removing my jeans. Of course, she'd seen me in just swimming shorts before which is basically just boxers but she had never witnessed me with a raging hard on before. And that's what was scaring me the most, I was embarrassed because she'd be able to see it...but it was all part of it, I guess.

The fly on my jeans was open and admittedly, it was a welcoming feeling for some of the tension to be freed. But now her hands were grabbing the waistband and she was slowly tugging them from around my waist peeling them off my body but she looked into my eyes the whole time she did so.

There was something so intimate about this silent eye contact. When she got them to my knees they fell the rest of the way themselves and hit the floor. I saw her attempt to glance down but I caught her chin before she saw and made her look at me, biting my lip I leaned in brushing my lips across her neck. She gave me this confidence I never knew I had.