Page 115 of Lessons In Grey

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Page 115 of Lessons In Grey

He smiled, his eyes finding my lips. “Such a good little snowflake.”

I shuddered at the words, melted at them.

He pulled out of me to the very tip before slamming back into me, ripping a cry from my lips.

He did it again.

Over and over again.

Until he set an unbearable pace of pure pleasure, each thrust hitting my clit, each slam echoing across my skin, his hand tightening into my hair as he bit and soothed my neck.

Over and over again.

Until our moans filled the halls.

Until we both exploded into untethered bliss.

~~~

I didn’t know what to call it.

A sick twist of fate. A joke. Whatever it was, the universe had shitty timing.

Here I was, ready to see Grey, to tell him that even though my bladder had been on the verge of rupturing, I had done it and I hadreallyenjoyed it. It had been our little secret. Something shared just between the two of us.

But now my bladder was empty and every bit of him was gone, and I was staring at my phone with my hand on the doorknob, my mind reeling from the text I had just gotten frommy dad.

Dad:Jordan killed himself and it’s your fault.

I hope you’re happy.

I was going to walk into that room smiling, proud of myself, but as I opened the door and looked up, I only felt confused.

Grey looked up, a smile filling his face only to drop for confusion. “Emily?”

I cleared my throat, walking numbly into the room. “Um, Jordan’s dead,” I told him, my head spinning, my phone outstretched towards him.

Grey stood, his brows pulling together. “Jordan’s dead?” he clarified, jumping off the stage and walking over. He took the phone from me, reading over the text, his confusion only growing. “It’s not your—”

“I know,” I said, brushing by him on my way to the stage. Dead? Suicide? I sat down, my brain slowing to a snail’s pace as I tried to process what was happening. “Grey, I don’t…I don’t think he killed himself.”

He walked over, settling down beside me. “I don’t think so either but tell me why you believe that.”

I gestured to my phone. “His last text. I was going to tell you,” I went on as he found the thread.

“’I may not know where you live, but I know where you go to school. See you in the parking lot, sweetheart’.” Grey tensed beside me. “That was sent twenty minutes ago.”

“And I was going to tell you,” I defended.

He shook his head, sliding his hand over my knee. “I believe you. I need to make a phone call. Think about what you need from me, whatever it is.”

My brows furrowed as he set my phone down, stood, and jumped back onto the stage. “What I need from you?”

He nodded, heading for his desk. “If it’s for me to just be here,I can do that. If it’s a coffee, a bath, a calm dinner and a movie, I can do that too. Even if this is what I think it is and even though Jordan did horrible things, it’s still going to be something to process. Something that makes you feel things you didn’t want to feel. I want you to tell me what you need. What I don’t want,” he went on, grabbing his phone from his desk and finding my eyes again, “is for you to get in your own head. Okay?”

I watched him carefully before turning back to my own hands. I didn’t want to get in my own head either. Jordan was dead.

He had made my life a living Hell for the last three years, but he had still been a person, battling demons of his own. Those demons led him to do terrible things, but he was still just a lost soul, now gone from this world.




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