by Jewel E. Ann
“It’s how many days it’s been since I’ve touched you.”
Her lips part, those breaths now audible. “You’ve been counting …” she whispers.
I grin. “The days … the hours … the heartbeats … yeah, I’ve been counting.”
The bouquet falls to the floor, and her hand reaches for my face, pausing just shy of touching it. “Three hundred and thirty-three.” A tiny smile bends her lips.
My eyes close for a few seconds when she finally touches me. Her palm on my cheek. Her thumb tracing my bottom lip like it’s done so many times before.
When my eyes open, they find hers unblinking and searching. She’s scared.
So am I.
“You. Are. Stunning.”
Her smile swells as her thumb continues to trace my mouth. “It’s the dress.”
My head inches side to side. “It’s the woman.”
Her other hand finds my face, framing it, pulling me the last inch until our lips are nearly touching. “You have to make this right.”
Us.
I have to make us right.
“Chase the girl …” she whispers.
I grin. “Chase the girl.”
Our lips meet and it feels like the air she ripped from my lungs, that day in the rain, is back. I push the door the rest of the way open, backing her into the room as we continue to kiss.
Gracelyn pulls back, leaving me breathless. She’s really good at it. “I like this,” she whispers, her fingers stroking my beard along my jaw.
“It’s summer. I’m going to shave it.”
“Not yet. Not until I know.”
My fingers find the zipper to her dress and ease it down her back. “Know what?”
Her cheeks flush as her strapless dress pools at her feet, leaving her in nothing but pink panties and high heels. “How it feels.”
My lips press to her shoulder, working their way to her ear as the tips of my fingers feather along her inner thigh. “How it feels here?”
Drawing in a shaky breath, she nods. “Yes.”
How did I ever walk away?
She unbuttons my white shirt and slides it off my shoulders, kissing along my chest. With it half off, she takes her time unbuttoning my jeans. The need is almost painful, but the desire for this to last as long as possible wins over. Nothing gets rushed.
Not her lips pressing kisses along my abs.
Not my fingers threading through her long hair.
Not the ease of her panties down her legs.
Not the brush of my beard along her inner thighs.
“Nate …” Her fingers curl into my hair as her heavy eyelids drift shut.
She gives me the best fucking smile as I continue to kiss my way up her body, relearning every subtle peak and valley. The three elephants and stemmed cherry. I grin against her skin as she wiggles beneath me, her pelvis reaching, her need growing.
“God … Nate …” Her back bows as I suck and tease her hard nipple, tugging until her lips part, a deep gasp filling her chest. I’m not sure what brings me the most pleasure—tasting her or watching her.
The slow descent of her fingernails down my back draws a long moan from me as I devour the skin along her neck. She slowly pulls her knees up while curling her fingers into my glutes, guiding me … tempting me.
I pull back and we exchange a look. It’s in her eyes, and I know it’s in mine. It’s a silent nod to cross a line that can’t be uncrossed.
Her forehead tenses as I push into her, the heel of her foot sliding up the back of my leg to my backside, digging into me as she pushes hard to rock her pelvis against mine. My mouth crashes to hers, our tongues reaching for something deeper. We move together with purpose. It’s us. For the first time in too long, it’s not about Morgan and Gabe. It’s about us.
It’s about the lovers we’ve lost, the grief we’ve endured, and every lonely night that felt like a slow loss of the deepest part that makes us … human.
The guilt.
For years, I’ve felt guilty for wanting this, for having everything but this. In the recesses of my conscience, I buried the desire, but it never died.
Now … I can’t stop it.
Gracelyn wraps herself around me like a vine around a tree, searching for new heights—for the light.
We roll as one body. She cages me in with her body over mine, her hair brushing my face, her fingers clawing at the pillow, every breath a whisper of longing.
“You’re so fucking beautiful …” I whisper.
She stops.
Tired eyes open as sweat beads on her brow. Her tongue slides along her lower lip, red and swollen from the bruising demand of my mouth, her cheeks flushed with heat, black mascara smeared below her eyes. We’ve let it build and fade so many times, trying to make this indescribable feeling last; we’re nothing but flesh, sweat, and heat.
My hand snakes around her waist, and I sit up. Her arms encircle my neck, her legs gripping my waist.
“No regrets,” she breathes just before her head dips to the side. The warmth of her tongue on my skin, the graze of her teeth … I’ve never felt so wanted … so needed in this way.
“No regrets,” I say, gripping her ass and moving her over me, faster … harder … until I can’t breathe.
Until my heart escapes my chest.
Until my body moves involuntarily.
Until her nails break the skin on my back and her cries crack through the air.
After the final waves subside and all that’s left is the pounding rhythms between our chests pressed flush, like every other inch of our bodies, I lie back with her. She slides to my side, tucked under my arm, her leg draped over me.
The euphoria settles into the most numbing exhaustion, and we sleep.
*
My eyes peel open around six the next morning as a sliver of light cuts through the tiny gap in the curtains. It illuminates Gracelyn’s back to me—the soft curve of her hip partially covered by the mess of sheets. The tattoo on her neck is visible with her hair fanned out on the pillow above her. I lean forward and press my lips to her inked hockey sticks. She stirs, but just slightly, before releasing a tiny sigh and falling still again.
Easing my legs over the side of the bed, I sit and run my fingers through my hair. I jump at her touch. Gracelyn’s fingers feathering along my back.
“I did this …” she says, softly outlining the cuts on my back.
“Is it bad?”
“Not if you don’t look at it.”
I chuckle.
She kneels behind me, pressing her naked body to my back as her fingers thread through my hair and her teeth tease my ear. “No regrets.”
“None?” I reach behind with one hand and grab her ass, giving it a squeeze. I know she means the cuts on my back. I don’t. There’s something much bigger than that. A bigger elephant in the room.
She kisses the back of my neck. “None.”
I twist my torso to see her face. She sits back on her heels and pulls the sheet up to cover her chest.
“I have to shower and get ready for my conference.”
She frowns. “You should skip.”
“I can’t. I accepted the job at the university. They expect me to return with new knowledge.”
“You took the job?” Her brow wrinkles as she chews on her bottom lip.
“Playtime was over. It’s time to work again.”
On a slow nod, she lifts her gaze to me. “That feels permanent.”
“I’m going to talk to Gabe. Man to man. I think he’d love Madison.”
“So … we’re moving. Uprooting. My job doesn’t matter. His friends. His soccer team. You left San Diego with no job and no home when you could have stayed. Morgan could have gone to school with Gabe and made friends. You could have applied to one of the colleges in San Diego.”
I sigh. “I promised Morgan I’d take her home.”
“I promised Gabe I wouldn’t take him away from his.”
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I shake my head.
“We’ll figure it out. I have to get going.”
She gives me a slight nod and a sad smile. I lean in and kiss her frown before heading to the bathroom.
I turn, inspecting my back. “Damn … Gracelyn …” I whisper, cringing at the smeared blood that must be on the sheets as well. It gives me a weird sense of pride.
By the time I get out of the shower, she’s gone. Sitting on the bed, I rub my towel over my head. This won’t be easy, but I won’t give up. I won’t ever give up.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Gracelyn
I shower. Stare out the window for an hour. And convince myself to take a walk. By the time I return to the hotel, I’m hungry. The restaurants are busy, which makes me regret not grabbing something while I was exploring.
“Hey, stranger.”
My head turns behind me to the sports bar. Steve waves at me from a high-top table.
I grin and squeeze through the crowd waiting to be seated. “That looks amazing.” I eye his sandwich and fries.
He pops a fry into his mouth. “It is. I tried to find you at the reception after the hoopla of toasts and cake cutting.”
“I—”
“Do you need a menu?” the waiter interrupts.
“Oh. I haven’t put my name in. I’m just—”
“She’s with me. Yes, a menu would be great.” Steve nods to the other stool at the small table.
The waiter sets a menu on it.
I wrinkle my nose, not sure about this.
“I hear it’s an hour wait. But maybe you’re not hungry.”
I hop onto the stool and rest my purse on my lap. “Starving actually.”
“I didn’t see you out on the dance floor. A lot of people were dancing into the wee hours, burning off all the food and cake.”
I grin. I burned plenty of calories last night. “I ran into a friend. We … hung out.”
“Would this be the friend you chased when we were in the elevator?”
The waiter sets a water on the table for me. “Have you decided?”
“Um …” I nod to Steve’s plate. “Same thing he’s having.”
“Extra blue cheese too?”
“Oh,” I wrinkle my nose. “No cheese.”
The waiter nods and takes my menu.
I fold my hands on the table. “Yes. Same friend. We met last summer. I haven’t seen him in months.”
“Seemed like an…” he takes a swig of his soda “…odd exchange.”
I shrug. “Just a misunderstanding. Your daughter did a great job yesterday. She’s adorable.”
“Thanks. She was upset that you caught the bouquet. Then you just … vanished. I was going to ask you for a dance. It felt like it was the least I could do after getting you drunk Friday.”
“Dancing is your form of an apology? Wow … you must be quite the dancer.”
He smirks. “You’ll never know now.”
“Where’s your daughter today?”
“She flew home with her mom this morning.”
“When are you going home?”
“Not sure. I ran into this woman Friday night. We went to high school together. She said she’s here for a week. I thought maybe I’d see if she wants to check out the city with me.”
My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Oh … me?”
He grins. “Yes. You. Brilliant guess.”
Mr. Popular Guy from high school skipped his flight—I think—to hang out with me.
“I could use the company, a little carefree time in Chicago to drink too much and hang out with a beautiful woman. What do you think?”
“Uh …”
“She’ll have to pass.” Nate’s voice startles me along with his hands sliding around my waist. His face nuzzles into my neck. I rest my hands over his, releasing a nervous laugh.
Steve’s eyebrows lift into peaks. “I didn’t realize you were …”
“Uh …” I can’t seem to find a better word than uh. “Steve this is Nathaniel Hunt. Nate this is …” My brain trips.
“Steve Marks,” Steve fills in for my slow brain.
“Yeah …” I whisper with an awkward smile.
“You didn’t mention you had a lunch date,” Nate says.
“I just was looking for someplace to eat, and there was a line and Steve was here so …”
“I have a ninety-minute break. We can grab something together.”
“She just ordered.” Steve takes a bite of his sandwich.
Nate releases me and situates himself so he’s leaning his arm on the top of the table with his back to Steve. We have a little stare off.
I lose. He has ninety minutes, and he wants to spend them with me. It’s a disaster in the making, but who doesn’t like a good disaster once in a while?
“I haven’t eaten today,” I give him a toothy grin.
“I’ll have the waiter send your lunch to the room,” Nate counters.
“I haven’t paid for it yet.”
Nate slides his hand into his front pocket, pulls out several folded bills, and tosses a fifty onto the table. “I’ll go tell the waiter.” Nate turns to Steve. “Nice meeting you.”
Steve nods as I slide off the stool. “Seems like he’s more than a friend.”
I slide my purse strap onto my shoulder. “I hope so. It was nice catching up with you. Thanks for the drinks Friday, even if it was a couple glasses too many. Have a safe trip home.”
Nate comes back over to the table and holds out his hand. I stare at it for a couple of seconds before placing mine in it.
“Did you just mark your territory back there?” I ask as he leads me to the elevators.
“If you’re implying I pissed on something, then no. I’m too old for that.”
He pushes the button and the doors open. Several people follow us onto the elevator. We stay silent on the way to the ninth floor. He leads me to the hallway, staying a few steps ahead of me, squeezing my hand.
“If you’re implying I let a man who was hitting on you know that you weren’t going to be sightseeing with him this week, then yes … I was marking my territory. You good with that?” He unlocks the door to the room and glances over his shoulder at me.
“Caveman.” I try to hide my grin.
He doesn’t. He just laughs. “I don’t even know what that means. I’m old-school, not Homo neanderthalensis.” Releasing my hand, he pushes open the door and holds it for me. “I settle property disputes with my fists, not urine.”
I roll my eyes and walk into the room.
“Honestly, Neanderthals were not only intelligent but quite accomplished with much larger brains than men today. So I highly doubt they claimed women by pissing on things,” he says.
“Wow … here I thought you were just a pretty face. You’re actually kind of smart.”
Nate starts to unbutton his shirt. “Eleven years of college. I just wanted to prove myself.”
“Are you done proving yourself?”
“Not even close.” His grin insinuates all kinds of naughty things.
I hug my stomach as it growls. “This morning, before you got in the shower …”
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out.”
“Gabe won’t want to move.”
He shrugs off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. “Have you asked him? Or did you make the guilty assumption and then felt too afraid to ask, the way I was too afraid to ask Morgan. Are we guarding them too much? Military families don’t pussyfoot around reality. When it’s time to move, it’s time to move. That’s life.” He sits on the bed and grabs my waist, pulling me to stand between his legs.
“Where was this tough love talk a year ago?” I rest my hands on his shoulders.
“I don’t know if Morgan would have been receptive then. She was dealing with some pretty big life changes.”
“It’s not just about Morgan. It’s about Gabe too. Jenna died over eleven years ago. Gabe’s parents … both parents have only been gone a year. He stil
l sees a psychologist. He still wants to spend every moment he can either playing with friends or playing soccer.”
He lifts my shirt just enough to kiss along my belly, dipping his tongue into my navel. “Madison has soccer. He plays with his friends online … playing games most of the time. We have internet at our house. I know some very good psychiatrists. And the schools are good. He’ll make plenty of new friends.”
My stomach growls again, and he jumps back.
“Told you, I’m hungry.” I step away and grab a granola bar from the food basket above the mini bar.
“That’s extra. They’ll charge my room for that.”
I roll my eyes. “You paid fifty dollars for a ten-dollar sandwich and fries, but I’ll pay you back.”
He reaches forward, hooks his finger through the belt loop of my ripped denim shorts and pulls me between his legs again. “Want to go somewhere with me?” He lifts his gaze to mine.
“After my sandwich?” I mumble over my bite of granola bar. “Don’t you have to be back in…” I glance at my watch “…less than ninety minutes?”
“It’s my last day. We’ll leave at five.”
“Where are we going? I haven’t really seen much of Chicago yet.”
He unbuttons my shorts and pulls down the zipper. “It’s a surprise.” His hands slide up my bare legs until his thumb finds the crotch of my panties and slips underneath it.
My chewing slows to accommodate the surge in my pulse and the heavy breathing that comes with it. He teases me, all the while kissing along my hip bone and running his tongue to just below my navel.
Two knocks at the door ruin the moment. But … food!
Nate stands, looming over me for a few seconds as I start to zip and button my shorts.
“Leave it.” He instructs with a stern look and challenging lift of his eyebrow before answering the door. “Thanks.” He slips the guy a tip and delivers my food. “Steve … do we need to talk about him? Or did we cover everything? There was the elevator scene with his hands on your hips, not sure where you two were headed, but I have to wonder if it was to the same room, given your state that night. Then I find you cozied up to him in the sports bar today with him making a suggestive proposition for the week.”
I take a bite of the sandwich, searching his face for signs of true jealousy. There are none. He sits back down on the bed with such a nonchalant expression and posture, like he doesn’t really give a shit but it’s just something to check off a list.
