Take Me with You (Take Me #2)(53)
Author: K.A. Linde

We were a match set.

I brought Grant in through the front door even though I typically entered through the garage door. The house opened up into an impressive two-story foyer and a large winding staircase. My father’s office was off to the left, so I immediately walked Grant in the opposite direction.

“Aribel,” my mother said. She greeted us in the formal living room, looking like a Stepford wife in an A-line dress, perfect pumps, and pearls. Her blonde hair was coifed and stunning.

I’d always been told that I looked like my mother, but I was as stubborn as my father, so I frequently felt like that resemblance was lacking.

“Mom.” I smiled softly. There were no warm hugs in my family. “This is my boyfriend, Grant.”

She reached her slender hand out and shook his once, almost as if she were afraid his germs would rub off on her. “Pleased to meet you.”

“You, too,” Grant said.

Then, we all stood there in awkward silence. My mother, the ultimate hostess, made us uncomfortably stand there as if it were the most natural thing for her to do.

“Mother!” I snapped. “Dinner? Dad? Aaron? Don’t we have plans?”

She blinked. “Yes, of course. I’ll go speak with your father. Why don’t you show your friend around?”

My friend.

Great, Mom.

“Come on, Grant.” I tugged him away from my mother and into the kitchen. I sighed when we entered the bustling room. “Sorry about that.”

“Went better than I’d expected.”

I warily looked at him. “Really?”

“Sure. She just kind of ignored me. She didn’t, you know…outright hate me.”

“Oh, Grant.” My arms wrapped around his neck, and I tightly held him to me.

This wasn’t the way it should be. My parents really should be more open-minded. I knew it had taken me a while to get to know Grant and accept the type of person he was. But shouldn’t my parents respect my good judgment?

It wasn’t as if I was a bad kid. I had even seen Aaron with a different girl than his girlfriend when we had gone out together. I would never have done that, and I never would be with someone like Grant if he were still sleeping around while being with me. And I didn’t think I was too stupid to know the difference.

“It’s all right, Princess. I’m glad to be here with you. I was the one who pushed you to tell them who I was in the first place. You said it would be difficult, and I haven’t fucking forgotten.” He softly kissed me on the lips. “If I get you out of the deal, then I can get through one evening with your parents.”

“Why, that might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said,” I joked.

He wove our fingers together and gave me a look that made my insides squirm. “I can be romantic later.”

I feigned indifference, but Grant ignited a fire with a single smile.

“Let’s look at the rest of the house before you start ripping my clothes off.”

“Is that an option?”

“No!”

He chuckled and then proceeded to follow me around the house. His eyes were as big as saucers through most of the downstairs.

I opened a sliding double door, and he peeked inside.

“A library? Really? No wonder you’re obsessed with the one at school.”

I laughed. “This was my favorite room growing up.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said with a smirk. “I didn’t even realize people actually owned libraries. Just thought it was Disney’s way of making women have even higher expectations of men.”

“Did you just make a Beauty and the Beast reference?”

He shrugged. “You’d never guess now, based on her slutty cowgirl getup, but Sydney used to be a princess with dresses and fake plastic heels included.”

“You’re right. I can’t imagine that.”

I eased the door closed, and then we walked up the stairs to the second floor.

Grant wrapped an arm around my waist and leaned in close. His breath breezed against my neck, and I shivered.

“So,” he said, “where’s your room?”

I cleared my throat and then pointed at the door at the end of the hall. He took my hand and did all the directing. Opening the door, we entered into the midst of my childhood.

The walls were still pale pink with white sheer curtains hanging in front of the windows. I had all white furniture and a plush white-covered queen-sized bed with pastel pink throw pillows. My mother had offered to redecorate for me while I was in high school, but at the time, I hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with it. This had perfectly fit my personality.

Now…I was actually embarrassed to show my boyfriend.

Grant closed the door behind me. He slowly walked forward to me, backing me up toward my bed. My heart thumped in my chest, and heat radiated out of my body. I couldn’t believe the way he was looking at me…as if he were going to eat me alive. And I was going to let him.

His hand trailed from my neck to my shoulder and then lightly to my waist. “What would your father say if he knew I was thinking of fucking you in your bedroom?”

“He, uh…” I mumbled incoherently.

His hand slid to my ass and then hoisted a leg up around his hip. My body pressed back into the bed as he leaned forward into me. I could feel my heartbeat in my core, begging him to follow through on his promises.

“Hmm…Princess?” he murmured against my neck.

His lips were sending goose bumps down my whole body. His tongue flicked out and caught the sensitive skin. Without thinking, I dug my fingers into his back, urging him onward.

I knew this was dangerous. I knew we could be caught at any minute. But it was a huge house. We weren’t needed at dinner right this second. Maybe…maybe I could break the rules just this once.

“I don’t care what he’d think. D-do it.” My voice wavered, but I hoped that my eyes held confidence.

Grant pulled back to stare in my eyes, which gave me away. I was nervous, unbelievably nervous. But at the same time…I so desperately wanted to sleep with Grant right now, to defy my parents in this way. I wanted to take control of my own life and not have to feel the constant weight of their expectations.

“Do it,” I repeated stronger.

I reached for his shirt collar to drag his lips back down to mine, but he stepped away from me. He visibly adjusted himself in front of me. I could see the outline of his erection in his jeans. I reached out to run my hand down it, but he pulled back.