Taming the Street Racer ✔️

26 | in my head

TW - anxiety

♔ ♕ ♔

Light floods through the open windows and onto our faces. Gray pulls me closer into his warm chest, groaning into my hair. I open my eyes and feel the warmth pull me from my grogginess. I run my eyes hard.

"Go back to sleep," he mumbles, clearly not as invigorated by the morning light. I laugh and pull the covers closer to my chin, trying to preserve this drowsy moment for as long as possible.

I feel Gray's breaths slow, and I know he's already fallen back asleep. As hard as I try, there's no way I can do the same.

I finally give up and flip the covers off me. I fight against the urge to curl back up, and slide out of bed. Then I rip the fluffy comforter off Grayson. He immediately recoils at the sensation of cold air on his bare skin. Somewhere in the night, his pajama pants disappeared of his body, and I'm stunned at the sight of him in only his boxer-briefs.

His very thin boxer-briefs, showcasing his morning friend. Oh, god.

I turn around quickly, shielding my eyes. My cheeks are already turning red. "Um...I think you have a little problem down south," I sputter.

I hear Gray sit up and lean back against the headboard. "I'd like to think of it as more of a big problem. But that's just me."

I turn around and snatch a pillow off the bed, chucking it at his head. Gray leans out of the way a second too late, and the pillow smacks him right in the face. His messy hair gets mused even more, but a lazy smile still graces his face as he picks up the pillow slowly.

I look back down at his lap. It does look like more of a really big problem, but I'd never tell him that. "Eh, I guess it's more of a microscopic problem."

Gray clutches the pillow as his smile turns more devious. His tanned skin glows under the natural light. "You're really asking for it, babe."

I don't have time to respond to his suggestive response before he reels his arm back and chucks the pillow at me, full force. It hits me right in the chest and knocks the wind out of me. Dramatically, I yelp out in fake pain and crumple to the ground, clutching my arms to my wounded chest.

"Holy shit, Riv," he says. Immediately, I hear Gray rush out of bed and bolt to my side. One hand is placed gently on my waist, the other on my cheek. He coaxes me to look at him. "Did I hurt you? Fuck, I didn't think I threw it that hard. Tell me where it hurts, baby."

I take the opportunity to tackle him, leaping onto him and knocking him off balance. With all my strength, I knock him on his back and find myself hovering over him.

To keep him down, I place my legs on either side of him and straddle his hips. Although I know he could escape this hold easily, I grab both his wrists and pin them at his sides. I smile victoriously and slightly seductively down at him. "You underestimate me, Gray."

He smirks back up at me, not even struggling against my pathetic binds. He quicky masks his look of surprise with a look of fake surrender. "I guess I did, Riv. You got me."

I wait for him to go on, suspicious.

He does. "Now do you believe that it's more of a big problem?"

Then he shifts his hips the slightest bit, teasing me and throwing me off my concentration. I widen my mouth is mock-disgust and shock, unintentionally loosening my grip the slightest bit. Big mistake.

He breaks free of my grips, flipping us so that our positions are reversed, except that my arms are pinned above my head. And his grip is much more strong than mine. I test this, moving my hands against his hands, and find that I can't move them an inch.