If that kiss hadn’t been so exquisite, so perfect, then maybe he’d be able to think of something else, but—
His phone rang, and he shot up. Because maybe it was Kristy, though she hadn’t even spoken to him afterward.
But it was Kristy. In the lobby of his building. She said she was sorry and asked him to buzz her up.
He abandoned his drink and waited for her outside the door to his suite. Kristy. Here. His imagination went into overdrive—he couldn’t help it.
He could set her on the kitchen counter—there would be no bar patrons staring at them around this counter—and kiss her again and again while he got to work on her clothing. He’d touch her bare shoulders, wiggle off her jeans, kiss her breasts.
He ran to his bedroom, where he stuffed a condom in his back pocket. He’d bought a box of condoms a couple weeks ago. Just in case.
But perhaps he was getting ahead of himself with his counter fantasies—all she’d said was “sorry.” He paced the hall in front of his unit, and tried to calm himself. One Mississippi…Two Mississippi…
There she was. Practically flying toward him.
And now she was here, inches from him, throwing her hands around his neck, and he knew he hadn’t been getting carried away. She wanted to be with him.
“I thought you’d lied to Maya,” she said. “Then she told me—”
He cut her off with a kiss, and they continued kissing as he lifted her up. He kept one hand under her, opened the door with the other, and carried her inside. “I’m taking you to bed.”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
He started toward the kitchen counter. “Bed can wait. I need you here first.” As soon as he put her down, he reached for the bottom of her pretty brown shirt and pulled it over her head. “As lovely as it looks on you, it has to go.” He unhooked her bra and dropped it on the ground beside her shirt.
“I was expecting you to fold my clothes and place them in a neat pile on a chair.” She cupped her breasts in her hands and arched her back as she pinched her nipples. “It was all for you. I wanted to look nice for you tonight. What do you think?”
He was unable to speak. He pulled one of her hands away from her breast and replaced it with his mouth. She shook as he circled her nipple with his tongue. He needed the rest of her. Needed to see and feel and taste all of her. Needed to feel her shudder when he was buried deep inside her body.
*
Kristy was naked and lying along the length of the counter, her legs dangling over the end. Grant had wasted no time in getting her in this position. He was still fully clothed, and she started to sit up to fix that problem, but he said, “No.” He parted her legs and slid a finger inside her; she collapsed back. “Feel how much you want me.” His voice was low. “You were thinking about this last weekend in the car. I know you were.” He rotated his finger as he moved it in and out of her. “I nearly drove off the road.”
A moment later, she couldn’t see him anymore from her position—perhaps he’d dropped to his knees. His tongue joined his finger, and in response, she grabbed the sides of the counter. If he kept doing this, it wouldn’t take very long. Then he put another finger inside her and circled his tongue around her clit…and that was it. She started shaking, her head thudding against the counter as she came.
“I’m going to do that to you again and again.” He stood up and walked around the counter. “Feel what you do to me.” The sound of a zipper. Then he placed a hand on hers and slid their hands together into his jeans. She curled her hand around his cock. Thick. Hard. For her. She pushed it through the slit in his boxers, then shifted her head to the edge of the counter and took him in her mouth.
“Later.” He pulled away from her suddenly. “You know that control you think I have? I don’t have it at all right now.”
She groaned. “Let’s go to the bed—”
“Here.” He produced a condom from his back pocket, and she was relieved she didn’t have to wait until they got to the bedroom.
The crinkle of a wrapper. A moment later, the head of his cock was at her entrance. She started to prop herself up on her elbows so she could see him penetrate her. But then he was inside her, all the way inside her, and she fell back and shut her eyes. The feeling of Grant filling her was overwhelming, almost too intense. And she loved it.
He thrust slowly, deliberately, nearly coming out with each stroke, but not quite. Her eyes were closed, but she swore she saw lights; her hands were clutching the edges of the counter, but still they were tingling. His pace was slow, but she kept gasping and so did he.
Grant was deep inside her body when he slid his hands behind her upper back. He lifted her up, pulled her chest to his, and started walking. She could kiss him now. She had to kiss him now. Pressed her mouth against his, tried to get as much of him as she could. He was fucking her, and still she wanted to be closer.
He carried her to the bedroom and set her down on the bed without coming out. His body pressing down on hers and his tongue flicking over her lips and his cock filling her and his hips thrusting and his hand caressing her hair…
She came. And with several deep grunts, he did too, and it filled her with pure elation. She wished she could hold onto this moment.
“I wanted this so badly, Kristy,” he whispered. “And it was even better than I thought it would be. You’re amazing.”
The rush she felt after an orgasm got even more intense. Good God.
He pulled out, rolled onto his side, and draped his arm over her. Her breathing—and his—slowly returned to normal.
“We should do that again,” she said a few minutes later.
“So it met your approval?” He winked.
“Except for one thing.” She started unbuttoning his shirt. “You didn’t remove any clothing, but you got me naked right away. Not fair.” She’d done half of the buttons when he trapped her wrists in his hand.
“I’ll tell you what’s not fair,” he said. “I was at the bookstore a few weeks ago—”
“I think I know this story.”
“Not from my point of view, you don’t.” He touched the index finger of his other hand to her mouth. “So I was in the bookstore, and there was a very pretty woman in the romance section. I kept stealing glances at her, and she was looking at me, too. But I was too chicken to approach her. So I walked away. And you know what? She followed me.”
Kristy tried to move her hands, but his grasp was too strong.
“I was finally about to say something when she spoke to me first. Very exciting, right? I was feeling confident, sure that she’d say yes if I asked her out. Then she said she wanted to set me up with her friend.” He closed his eyes and shook his head solemnly.
“How unfortunate.”
He kissed her mouth and let go of her wrists, and she continued with the buttons. “And later,” he whispered, “she told me that she was sure I was good in bed. But she wouldn’t give me a chance to prove it for another week.”
Kristy laughed. “You talk too much. Anyone ever tell you that?” She had his shirt unbuttoned now, and he sat up so she could pull it off. Then the T-shirt underneath.
“Ha,” he said. “No.”
She placed a hand in the middle of his bare chest, her mouth in the curve of his neck. He was so hot. “And you truly wanted to ask me out from the very beginning?”
“Yes. When I saw you, it was…I guess Brady would say it was an experience. And when I got to know you better, I wanted you even more.”
* * * *
When she fell asleep in his arms an hour later, Grant still wasn’t tired. He was too excited, like a kid trying to sleep on Christmas Eve.
Kristy.
It had actually happened.
He couldn’t wait to spend tomorrow with her. He’d make her breakfast and bring it to her in bed. In fact, they could spend all day in bed.
He wanted to run a hand through her hair now, but he wouldn’t because it might disturb her. She was tucked again
st him, sleeping in one of his T-shirts. And that was perfect.
He finally did sleep, but woke up at four in the morning. Kristy had rolled away from him. He padded to the kitchen, where he gathered her clothes. He placed two chocolates on a chair, then folded her clothes and put them on top of the chocolates.
She was still asleep when he set the chair down beside the bed. He crawled back under the covers, and she turned toward him but didn’t wake up.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
* * * *
He awoke to laughter. Kristy’s laughter. He smiled.
“My clothes. You didn’t.”
He moved closer to her warmth. “Don’t get dressed yet.” Underneath that large shirt of his, she was wearing nothing, and he’d make use of that soon.
Sun was spilling through the blinds, Kristy was with him, and all was good.
“I could have left the bedroom naked to fetch them,” she said. “You didn’t want me to do that?”
“If you like, I’ll throw them back on the kitchen floor.”
“Silly.” She turned toward him for a kiss before she picked up her clothing, one item at a time, apparently evaluating his folding skills. When she lifted up her jeans, she said, “Chocolate? It’s seven in the morning.”
He circled his arms around her waist and pulled her beneath him. “By the time I let you get dressed, it’ll be much later than that. But there’s nothing wrong with the occasional chocolate early in the morning.” He unwrapped one and fed it to her. Watching her sensual mouth as she chewed it—oh, she knew exactly what she was doing—almost killed him.
She fed him the other chocolate, then ran her thumb over his mustache.
“I grew it for Movember a few years ago and decided I liked it. But I can get rid of it, if you prefer.”
“I think your face would look naked without it,” she said.
“I like naked.” He sneaked a hand up the long shirt she was wearing and kissed her mouth.
“Grant…”
“What I meant,” he said, enjoying her reaction, “was that maybe you don’t like kissing me with a mustache.”
“I think you should keep it. It’s different. In a very good way.”
“Whatever you say.” He touched her a little higher.
“Just like that is perfect. Oh.”
“It sounds like you’re getting a massage.”
She giggled. “I guess it does.”
She dragged her hand down his body, circled his shaft, and stroked up and down. He caught his breath; she moved a little faster. “That’s so good, baby,” he murmured. Then he kissed her, and as his tongue tangled with hers, he decided he needed to be in her. Now.
She sat up, pushed him onto his back, and grabbed a condom from the bedside table—she needed the same thing. She rolled the condom on and lowered herself onto his cock. He groaned.
And then she started moving. Good God. He reached up and fondled her breasts—so lovely—and she brought her body down to his, closed her lips over his. He dug his fingers into her back.
He loved morning sex. All kinds of sex would be good with her. All kinds of everything would be good with her.
*
After they had sex, Grant rolled over and started snoring, but Kristy, who’d had a damn good sleep last night, wasn’t tired. She’d have to ask him about his mattress—she’d never slept on such a comfortable bed.
It was a Sunday. A free Sunday. She could spend it all with him.
It was a Sunday, exactly five weeks after she’d been dumped by a McDonald’s-hating—
Five weeks.
Nowhere near two months.
Every time she’d slept with a guy shortly after a breakup, it had turned out to be a mistake. This was something she’d done a lot of back in school. An attempt to make herself feel desirable, an attempt to forget. But Allison had pointed out it wasn’t having the intended effect if she always regretted it the next day. So she hadn’t done it in years.
Until now.
This wasn’t the same, though. She looked at the chocolate wrappers on the chair and smiled. He was so sweet, Grant. He wasn’t a random guy she’d met at a bar and slept with mere hours after learning his name.
But not all of those guys had been random. A few had been friends. One she’d known for years, and sleeping with him had screwed up their friendship.
She didn’t regret it this time. Not yet, anyway. But maybe she would—she needed some time to be sure. She didn’t trust herself so soon after a breakup, wasn’t sure that what she felt for Grant was genuine. It might just be related to her tendency to latch onto the first guy who found her attractive when she was feeling low after a relationship ended. Shit.
She started getting dressed.
Chapter 8
Grant was roused by a single kiss on the lips.
Kristy sat on the edge of the bed, her purse in her lap. “I’ve got to go.”
He sat up, blinked. This wasn’t part of the plan. “Are you upset about last night?”
“I think it might have been a mistake.” She looked down at the quilt.
“Because of your two-month rule?”
“It exists for a good reason. I used to—”
“You really think I’m a mistake?” He tried to put his arm around her waist, but she shifted away.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Brady would have been a mistake.”
“And you’re different?”
“Yes.” Of course he was different. “This isn’t a one-night thing to me. I want—”
“But I don’t know what I want.” She glanced up at him, her lips a thin line.
“I think you do.” He just knew, even if that wasn’t neat and logical, and he’d thought she did, too. He caught her around the waist, pulled her toward him, and kissed her. “How can you say that’s a mistake?”
“I can’t trust what I feel right now. Give me another month and we’ll see.”
“I need you to stay.”
“You don’t need me to stay.”
“Maybe not need, but everything’s ten times better if it’s with you. No one else can do that.” He’d waited so long to find someone like Kristy. And now she wanted to leave.
“I know what you mean,” she whispered. “I watched you make a fucking shelf and still had a good time.”
“Isn’t that enough? And didn’t you say that you had a good feeling about me?”
“But that was for someone else.” She stood up. “Good-bye, Grant.”
Once she was gone, he rolled to her side of the bed.
* * * *
Kristy didn’t feel like going home. Instead, she went to the Poisoned Apple and ordered a Poison Special, which turned out to be a hazelnut latte with a double shot of espresso. Brady was right; it was a cool place. An old building with stone walls, even a stained-glass window, and an almost medieval feel.
She dragged her feet up the stairs to the second floor, where she studied the framed drawings on the walls. They looked like illustrations from a book of fairy tales: The Princess and the Pea, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty.
She took a seat by the window. It was a gorgeous day. They could have gone for a walk; they could have sat on a patio and had margaritas. They would’ve had lots of fun together. She tried not to think about that.
When she turned away from the window, a middle-aged man at a nearby table raised his eyebrows over his drink.
Right. Her makeup was probably smeared, and she was wearing an outfit she’d never worn in daylight hours. Usually she felt more embarrassed when she was in this position—not that it had happened in a very long time. But today she just felt numb.
She called Maya.
“I’m at the Poisoned Apple, drinking a Poison Special,” Kristy said, knowing exactly what her friend’s reaction would be.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” As expected.
Kristy smiled for the first time since she’d left Grant’s. But she wouldn’t continue to mis
lead Maya.
“Please tell me nothing happened with Brady,” Maya said. “Please.”
“Nothing happened with Brady.”
“Thank God. I was afraid I’d have to send in the top-secret dwarf army. But why aren’t you with Grant?”
“I…ummm…well…I’m not quite sure, but I have reasons.”
Maya said she’d call Allison and come to “that poison place” as soon as she could.
After putting her phone away, Kristy closed her eyes and let the sunlight and caffeine—the drink was actually quite tasty—seep in.
This would have been better with Grant.
* * * *
Maya and Allison sat across from Kristy, each holding a cup.
“We ordered regular coffee,” Maya said. “It’s the only thing on the menu that doesn’t have ‘poison’ in its name.”
“You didn’t go home last night,” Allison observed.
“Thanks, genius.”
“Was he terrible in bed?” Maya asked. “Is that the problem?”
“No.” That wasn’t the problem at all.
“She feels guilty because she broke her rule,” Allison said. “That’s got to be it. By the way, Kristy, you’re blushing.”
“Thanks,” Kristy muttered. “And the rule was your idea.”
“So he was amazing in bed. But you feel bad because of your rule, even though you’ve been crazy about Grant from the moment you met him.”
“Not true. I wanted him to date Maya.” Kristy gulped some more of her delicious drink. Her second, in fact—she’d downed the first while waiting for her friends.
“I didn’t buy that for a minute,” Allison said. “You couldn’t stop raving about him. How hot he was. How nice he was. How neat his place was. You even raved about his family after you talked to his brother on the phone and met his parents. And how could I forget”—she stifled a laugh—“how good he was at changing lightbulbs.”
Not For Me Page 7
