by Nadia Aidan
"I owe you an apology."
She smiled up at him. “For what?"
"For trying to talk Drake out of marrying you. I thought you both were making a mistake by moving so fast, but I now see that I was wrong. You make him happy. Happier than I've ever seen him. And I can tell you love him very much."
"I do,” she whispered, and tears shimmered in her beautiful brown eyes as love poured out from them. “Thank you for that. I know it must have been difficult to sit back and watch given your reservations. But I promise you I love Drake with all my heart and only want to make him as happy as he's made me."
He returned her smile, his arms tightening around her as he whirled her across the dance floor. Again, they returned to a companionable silence as they moved in time to the music until she spoke again.
"So, I see you and Monica are getting pretty close."
His steps faltered, and he almost tripped over her before quickly gathering himself to take over the lead of the dance once again. He narrowed his gaze, his eyes searching her face for the motive behind her words. Had Monica put her up to this?
As if reading his mind, she said with a slight grin, “Now before you go jumping to conclusions, I will tell you that Monica hasn't said a word to me. It's just that in my line of work, I see a lot of couples so I would like to think I'm good at picking up on these things. I didn't mean to pry. I just figured since we were being honest..."
Oh, she was clever. Drake no doubt had told her he was a straight shooter, valuing honesty and integrity over anything else. There was no way he could back down from the challenge she'd just issued, besides what did he have to lose? Monica wasn't talking to him anyway.
"Were. Past tense. Monica and I were getting closer, but I pissed her off."
She chuckled softly, her head shaking. “I can only imagine. What did you say to her?"
He shrugged. “It wasn't really one thing per se. She felt as if I judged her harshly because of her taste in clothing."
"And did you?"
He let out a long, ragged breath. He didn't want to rehash this again, certainly not with Monica's best friend, but he didn't have much choice. He just hoped he didn't piss her off, too.
"I'm not proud of myself for it, but to be honest, I did."
Her eyes were warm as she smiled up at him, her expression full of empathy. “Don't beat yourself up because you certainly aren't the first. Many people judge her harshly, at first. But if you get to know her, you come to realise how wonderful she is."
He glanced up, his gaze searching out the very woman at the centre of his thoughts, and their eyes met, for the briefest of moments before she quickly turned away, but not before he caught the flash of longing in her eyes.
"I know,” he said softly, thinking Soledad didn't have to tell him how wonderful Monica was because he already knew. He returned his gaze to Soledad, whose eyes twinkled with laughter.
"What?” he asked when she simply stared at him.
"Oh, nothing.” But he didn't believe her for one second, not with that smug grin on her face.
She sobered then, her expression taking on a serious edge as she held his gaze. “I've known Monica for thirty years. We met in kindergarten as two precocious five year olds, and we've been inseparable ever since,” she said with a wistful smile. “So it's unfortunate that so many people automatically stereotype her without even knowing her because I know how hard it's been for her to finally become comfortable in her skin."
He swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling like an even bigger ass. He wanted to end the dance and go after Monica at that very moment, to beg her forgiveness, but Soledad was far from done.
"For years boys, and then men, taunted her. She was smart as a whip and always extremely kind and giving, but no one cared about all of that because she was the typical geek, and they couldn't see beyond the exterior. All they could see was that she was tall and gangly, with bad acne and horrible braces which she wore until she went off to college. I'll never forget the day I held my best friend as she cried in my arms when she found out she needed glasses. We were sophomores in high school, and she was so upset because she felt they would make her look even worse. Monica was always awkward, she wasn't popular, and she never got asked out on dates or to school dances."
Grant stiffened as he glanced over at the woman who was the very definition of sensuality, trying hard to imagine the girl Soledad spoke of. Even though he couldn't see that girl now, his heart still ached for her.
"You can't tell now. The Monica you see now grew into her figure when we were juniors in college, but believe me, it wasn't a welcome change. Men who'd never looked at her before couldn't seem to stop, and for a girl used to slinking into the shadows, it was overwhelming. But eventually she got used to it and learned to sift through the superficial jerks who only saw one thing when they looked at her. I think it's kind of good that in her own way she now taunts men, given how they taunted her all her life."
He curled his lips into a tight frown. He didn't quite agree with her there, especially since he'd nearly given himself hypothermia with all the cold showers he'd been forced to take before he could even put on his tux that morning.
"Okay, I've tried to be patient, but this is your third song. I'm coming to take my wife back before you get any ideas."
A deep chuckle rumbled low in Grant's throat, and he stepped aside to allow his best friend to drag his bride into his arms.
"Didn't mean to monopolise her time. She's all yours.” He nodded at Soledad, his eyes conveying a silent message, he knew she understood. “Thank you."
"You're welcome, Grant. Oh, and good luck.” She grinned, her eyes dancing with laughter, and he shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but she didn't see it, as she was swept away, completely oblivious to all but Drake.
"Can I have this dance?"
Monica had known he was there long before he came up behind her, the hard unyielding strength of his body, pressing against her, so she couldn't help but notice the insistent nudge of his cock against the curve of her ass. The nerve of him. She spun around, her expression hard as she stared up at him, her anger rising with the grin he wore on his handsome face.
"No,” she said shortly, hoping he would simply go away if she didn't encourage him, but no such luck.
"Then can we talk?"
She snorted. “Absolutely not."
"Then can you listen?"
"Nope."
"Well, then, can I buy you a drink?"
He momentarily stumped her, before she quickly recovered. “It's an open bar. The drinks are free."
His grin spread across his face. “Well, at least, you didn't say no."
She frowned, her eyes flashing with annoyance. She wasn't angry with him per se, more herself, because it was hard to be around him and still keep the promise she'd made to herself not to touch him. Her hands itched to stroke the hard lines of his stubbled jaw, before dipping lower to run through the rough hairs of his muscled chest, until they settled on the hard, thick bulge of his cock.
She stifled a sharp moan. Damn, she still wanted him, it was impossible not to. Her entire body ached, taunting her with the need for one last taste of him. She could give in and succumb to a night of bliss in his arms, but she would only feel worse in the morning, because she realised now that she wanted more from Grant, expected more. But she wasn't getting more, and she refused to settle for anything less.
"What do you want, Grant?'
"To apologise. I've been nothing but a jerk to you, and I'm sorry. You were right yesterday. Who you are as a person has nothing to do with what you wear or what you do for a living. I judged you before I ever knew you, and that was wrong."
She read the sincerity of his declaration right there in his open and honest gaze, and it touched her. She knew it had taken a lot of courage for him to admit that he'd been wrong, and in many ways she was proud of him.
"Thank you, Grant. I really appreciate that."
He stood there, studying her face, and she wondered if he wanted to say more.
"Was that all?"
"Actually, no.” He blew out a long breath, his hands shaking slightly, which made her nervous. His entire body was coiled with tension, and she dreaded what he would say next given that it already had him so on edge.
"I know we got off to a rocky start, but I would like to see you a—"
"Is there a doctor in here?"
The panicked voice of a young woman sliced through the room like a knife, plunging it into silence.
"Monica's a doctor! Monica!"
She rushed towards Soledad, whose eyes were frantic.
"What is it? What happened?"
She scanned the room quickly, her gaze landing on an elderly woman slumped over in her chair at the same time Soledad said, “It's Drake's grandmother. I think she's ill."
Monica raced towards the woman, oblivious to everything around her as the entire room erupted into chaos.
* * * *
The cab ride from the hospital was tense with silence as Grant sat at the other end of the seat staring out the window.
When the car rolled to a stop outside their hotel, she allowed the valet to help her out while Grant paid the driver.
She waited on the kerb until he stood beside her, then she turned to walk inside, feeling completely drained as she started forward. She nearly stumbled when Grant took her hand in his. The intimate gesture was so unexpected, but she welcomed it, grateful for his soothing touch as he poured his strength into her weary body.
She glanced up at him, but he continued to stare straight ahead as they made their way to the elevator. Like the ride to the hotel, the trip up to her room was made in silence. Gently prying her key from her hands that shook from exhaustion, he swiped it through the lock, pushing open the door so that she could enter first.
She thought he would say good night then, so she was surprised when he closed the door behind him and shrugged out of his jacket and tie, tossing them aside. He made his way to her wet bar and fixed himself a drink.
"You were amazing tonight. Mrs. Winthrope was lucky that you were there,” he said, after taking a sip.
She watched him with wary eyes, trying to discern if he was angry or not. He hadn't spoken to her since Mrs. Winthrope had fallen ill, but she knew he had much to say.
"I didn't do much. With the extreme heat, she was simply suffering from dehydration and fainted. At first, I feared she'd gone into cardiac arrest. I'm just glad she's all right."
"Thanks to you. But your colleagues swear you're the best geriatric cardiologist in the west, so we were all told she was in good hands. Didn't even know that was a medical field,” he said with a wry chuckle, swirling the drink in his hand, the ice clinking against the side of the glass. That and the steady hum of the air conditioning were the only sounds that could be heard in room.
She let out a long breath and crossed the room to stand before him, the silence between them unbearable. “Are you angry?"
He set his drink aside and shot out his hand to stroke his cool palm against the flushed skin of her cheek. Her entire body shivered with tiny tingles as goose bumps dotted her skin.
"I was at first, but then I realised I had nothing to be upset about. You never lied to me, and I never asked. Like I said at the reception, I judged you before I even tried to get to know you, so whose fault was it that I ended up looking like a fool?"
"That wasn't my intention, and I didn't mean to deceive you. I just thought..."
His hand stilled against her cheek. “What?"
She dragged her tongue across her lips in a nervous gesture as she forced herself to be completely honest with him.
"I thought it would be best if I told you as little about me as possible because I knew this was only about sex. To delve into personal details would have made this into something that it wasn't."
His thumb stroked across her bottom lip, his emerald eyes burning a hole into her as he held her gaze. “And is that how you feel now? Do you want us to both walk away and leave it at that, just a weekend of great sex?"
An invisible knot tightened in her belly as a tremor raced through her. He was offering her the chance to tell him what she really wanted, but did she dare take that risk? It was a huge gamble to tell him she wanted more, when she didn't know if he felt the same way. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She had so much to lose if she told him the truth, but she would lose so much more if she denied what she felt inside her heart.
"No. I want more,” she said softly, her words barely above a whisper, but he had no trouble hearing them. A smile spread across his face.
"I do believe this is the first time we've agreed on something."
Grant's heart skipped a beat at her words. He wanted to talk to her, tell her exactly what he was feeling, but last night, she'd denied him the gift of her sweet body, and he couldn't silence the demands of his own long enough to make it through the conversation they needed to have. So for the moment, he set those thoughts aside to be revisited later after they both were completely satiated.
Tilting her chin back further, he lowered his head to meet her waiting mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut at the first brush of his lips against hers.
He moaned against her mouth. Her fingers slowly inched down his chest to unbutton his shirt, teasing his heated flesh. With steady hands, she peeled the garment from his body, flinging it aside.
Her brown eyes burned with molten fire as her fingertips lightly skimmed over his chest, gently raking her nails across his nipples. He stiffened as chills raced down his spine, a low hiss slipping past his lips as his cock twitched inside his trousers.
Her lips curled into a wicked grin as she dipped her head to place soothing kisses where her nails had marked his flesh. His body shuddered, and his breath came out as choppy pants as the wet warmth of her tongue stroked his sensitive nipples. She flicked her tongue inside his navel before travelling back up to slide over the ridges of his stomach, leaving his skin tingling as she carved a wet trail across his torso.
She held his gaze as she dropped to her knees, not once breaking eye contact as she unfastened the button of his trousers and slowly lowered his zipper. With the utmost gentleness she reached inside, releasing his now painfully hard cock then pushed his pants over his hips and down his legs..
She smiled. “How lovely, and it's all for me,” she whispered as one hand stroked the length of his cock, while the other cradled the heavy weight of his balls, massaging him gently, within the palm of her soft hand.
He sucked in a jagged breath as his hands gripped the back of her head, to steady his shaking body.
Squeezing gently, she pumped her hand up and down his cock, and he instinctively thrust his hips forward, propelling his hard length inside her tightly clenched fist. She pumped faster until a bead of pre-cum seeped out through the head of his dick and she lunged forward, her tongue lapping at the slit as more fluid of his arousal trickled from him, sending bolts of electricity skating from the head of his dick to sizzle across his entire body.
She stroked her tongue back and forth until he pressed his fingers deeper into her scalp, nudging her forward.
In a single motion, she descended on his cock, taking him so deeply within her that the tip of cock grazed against the back of her throat.
He quivered as he tightened his hands around her head. “That's it, Monica. Suck it. Suck my cock,” he whispered hoarsely.
His body jerked as her lips tightened around him, sucking him harder, her head bobbing up and down with each stroke.
"Mmm,” she moaned against his flesh, and he shivered as the vibrations slid over his cock.
His balls drew up tighter to his body, his hips pistoning as he tangled his hands in her hair, holding her firmly against his cock.
"I'm coming,” he rasped out seconds before his dick erupted in her mouth shooting stream after stream of hot semen down her throat as his body shuddered violently.
Heat spr
ead across his body, and his lids grew heavy as he stared transfixed by the beautiful sight of her, her throat working furiously until she swallowed every last drop.
Monica continued to suck his cock until he grew soft in her mouth, finally leaning back on her heels to stare up at him.
"Stand up,” he demanded and reached out his hand to help her. “Now undress for me, slowly."
With shaky hands, she tugged down the zipper on the side of her dress until it fell apart, and she let it float to the ground. He sucked in a deep breath, reaching out to caress her breasts with both hands through the lacy fabric of her black, strapless bra.
"Now your bra and panties."
She reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, letting it shimmy down her body before kicking it aside. She then hooked her fingers in the thin band at her waist, slowly dragging the matching thong down her long legs, before stepping out of it.
He moved forward, cupping her breasts within his hands, kneading the soft pillows of flesh as he rolled her nipples between his fingertips.
She stiffened against him, her head falling back when he fastened his mouth around one hardened nipple while his hand continued to massage her other plump breast.
He nipped gently at the beaded flesh, flicking the hardened peaks with his tongue. When she began to wobble against him on shaky legs, he swept her up in his arms, to gently settle her on the bed.
He crawled onto the bed after her, spreading her thighs wide to dip his head between her legs and devour her honeyed pussy. With sure strokes he slid his tongue through the slit at the mouth of her womb, stabbing at her opening before pushing his way deep inside the walls of her sheath.
She gasped, her body twisting against the bed, her fingers digging into his scalp.
He feasted on her cunt as he moved to suck on her clit, letting one, then two, and finally three fingers plunge into the sticky, wet warmth of her pussy, as he thrust his fingers deep, sucking hard on her tiny bud.
She moaned loudly, her hips jerking up on frenzied thrusts as she wrapped her thighs around his head, holding him firmly against her pussy.
