Defending Hearts

by Shannon Stacey

  Gretchen was pretty sure her mouth had frozen into the shape of a polite smile at least an hour ago.

  Luckily, everybody at the reception seemed to love the sound of their own voices, so nobody appeared to mind that she did a lot more smiling and nodding than she did talking. But she had to admit she was having a better time than she’d anticipated.

  She didn’t know what anybody was talking about half the time, but she could tell they not only knew who Alex was but also had a lot of respect for his work. While she’d seen him sit for what seemed like hours, analyzing photos he’d taken around Stewart Mills, the men and women around them tonight actually understood and appreciated the art of what he did.

  They ate, filling their plates from an assortment of the restaurant’s finest dishes, served buffet-style. Then they mingled some more, and Gretchen was thankful she hadn’t tried to manage shoes with heels since the only time they sat down was during dinner. Now she sipped a glass of ice water and listened to the conversation Alex was having with a man named Ed, who seemed to have something to do with a famous regional magazine she’d never heard of.

  “So, Murphy, when are you going to stop wasting time here in New Hampshire and get back out into the thick of things?”

  The words cut Gretchen to the bone, though she struggled to make sure her reaction didn’t show on her face.

  That was the question, wasn’t it? When would Alex get tired of wasting his time in the middle of nowhere with her and go back to traveling around the world, taking photographs that brought in money and awards, and the adoration of people like these? It was a thought that circled through her mind more and more often as the days passed, but hearing it said out loud—and in such a blunt way—shook her more than she cared to admit.

  Alex only squeezed her hand, as if he knew the question would bother her, and smiled at the man. “I’m getting some great photographs in Stewart Mills, actually. Having an emotional connection to the subject brings a depth to the work—layers, if you will—that you can’t fake.”

  That seemed to satisfy the man, who turned the conversation to some kind of grant he was applying for. Gretchen feigned interest, making sure the bland smile stayed plastered on her face, but her attention was mostly on the way her fingers were interlaced with Alex’s.

  His thumb brushed up and down the length of her index finger in what was probably a subconscious gesture. It was comfortable and easy, and it gave her something to focus on besides the people milling around them. Every once in a while, he’d give her hand a squeeze and she’d glance at him. He’d give her a questioning look and she’d smile to show she was fine.

  About a half hour after the wasting his time question, he leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He didn’t need to ask her twice. It took probably ten or fifteen minutes to get through the room and say their good-byes, and then she was outside, breathing in the fresh air. It was starting to cool off as the sun started going down, but she welcomed the light chill after the stuffiness of the restaurant.

  “How bad was it?” Alex asked once they were out of the parking lot and driving through the city.

  “I had a good time.”

  He snorted and glanced over at her. “You can be honest.”

  “I am being honest. It’s not something I’d want to do all the time, but some of the people were very nice. The food was good.”

  “Really?”

  “Okay, it wasn’t as good as what Gram makes, but I didn’t have to wash the dishes.” He laughed and reached over to grasp her hand. Lacing his fingers through hers, he rested his forearm on the center console. “It was neat, seeing you in your element. It was obvious everybody there really respects you.”

  “Yeah, some of them do. The others . . . well, within the week I’ll be getting emails asking me for something. An introduction to my agent or teaching a free workshop or a good word with some committee or another.”

  “Does that happen a lot?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes, especially after an event like this. But in my field, your career pretty much lives or dies in the shot, and most people recognize that. There’s only so much I can do to help a person out.”

  Gretchen wanted to ask him what he’d thought of the guy who said he was wasting his time in Stewart Mills, but he flipped his blinker on and turned into the hotel parking lot. Of course he opened her door for her, but she drew the line at him carrying both bags.

  She felt conspicuous, standing next to him in the lobby with the handle of her overnight bag clutched in her hands. It was a nice enough bag—a black quilted material that was fairly timeless despite belonging to Gram—but she wondered what the desk clerk would think of their small, separate bags. If they were really a couple, they probably would have packed together in one small suitcase.

  But she supposed it didn’t really matter what the desk clerk thought. And they weren’t really a couple . . . she didn’t think. At this point, she wasn’t sure what they were, and she didn’t want to ruin the evening by dwelling too much on it, so by the time Alex led her to the elevator bank, she’d returned her focus entirely to the here and now.

  And the here and now was Alex unlocking the door to their room and pushing it open to reveal a whole lot of expensive-looking room and a giant bed. “Oh, my.”

  He flipped the light switch on before letting the heavy door swing closed behind him. She noticed he caught it at the last second so it closed with a click instead of a bang, and remembered he spent a lot of time in hotels. Then he flipped the safety bar and took her bag from her.

  She explored the room, with its well-cushioned armchairs and fancy lamps. There was even a desk, and a television that was definitely newer than the one at the farm. The bathroom was huge, with an assortment of fancy miniature bottles on a silver tray next to the sink.

  “If you don’t use those, you can bring them home to Ida. I bet she’d get a kick out of them,” Alex said from the doorway.

  “Isn’t that stealing?”

  “If you use a little bit of each, they’d have to throw the rest away, anyway.”

  When he grinned, she scowled at him. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Only on the inside.”

  “I’ve never stayed in a hotel before.” She picked up one of the little bottles and unscrewed the cap so she could smell it. Then she put the cap back on. A little flowery for her taste, but Gram would like it. “I think I lived in a few motels when I was a kid. With my parents, you know? But they were . . . not like this.”

  She braced herself for sympathy or some kind of disapproving sound, but he just arched an eyebrow at her. “If this is your first time in a hotel, you’re not going to believe the pillows.”

  Gretchen set the bottle back on the tray and made a beeline for the bed. “How different can a pillow be? They’re pillows.”

  “Trust me.”

  She pulled back the white comforter to get the pillows, but the fabric in her hand distracted her. “These sheets are amazing. What do you think they’re made out of?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Sheet material of some sort.”

  “Feel how soft they are.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. “Feel them.”

  He ran his hand over the luxurious fabric, and then smiled. “You’re right. They’re very soft.”

  “They’re almost worth stabbing myself in the eye with a mascara wand for.” When he looked alarmed, she smiled. “I didn’t, but it was a very real risk. Trust me.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t stab yourself in the eye. And you looked stunning tonight.” He leaned over to kiss her softly on the mouth.

  “Thank you. I had a good time.”

  “Did you really?”

  That was a loaded question. As a whole, it wasn’t her kind of party. But she’d enjoyed watching Alex do his work thing for a
little while. “I already told you I did.”

  “Yes, I know. You didn’t have to wash the dishes. But is it the kind of thing you’d want to do again?”

  She wasn’t sure exactly what he was asking, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made her feel inexplicably anxious, so she tried to avoid answering. “Only if they’re serving that chocolate truffle.”

  He smiled and stood up straight again. “You haven’t tried the pillows yet.”

  “I was just thinking about how good that nightgown’s going to feel with these sheets.”

  That seriousness in his gaze gave way to heat in an instant, and he pulled her to her feet. “Let me get your bag for you.”

  15

  Gretchen wasn’t surprised to find Alex was already naked and in bed when she came out of the bathroom. As she walked across the hotel room, enjoying the feel of the plush carpet under her bare feet, he watched her, seemingly without blinking.

  When she was almost to the bed, he folded back the covers and stood up. He definitely liked the nightgown, she thought, and had to bite back a giggle she didn’t think he’d appreciate very much.

  “Damn, Gretchen.” He put his hands at her waist and then slid them up her satin-covered sides. She wasn’t sure if it was satin, actually. But the white material was soft and shimmery, and it hugged her body. It was a simple design with a slit up one thigh and a deep V-neck, with thin straps over her shoulders.

  “Do you like it?” She looked down at it, loving the contrast between the delicate fabric and his big, tanned hands. “I bought it once on a whim. A splurge, I guess. But I’ve never worn it.”

  “Then I’m not only hard as a rock, but honored, too.”

  “That’s hard to miss, actually.” He wasn’t lying.

  He bent his head and kissed the spot where the V-neck ended between her breasts. Then he closed his mouth over her breast and sucked one taut nipple through the thin nightgown.

  “So I hear hotel sex is supposed to be different from regular sex,” she said.

  He straightened, arching an eyebrow at her. “Who did you hear about hotel sex from?”

  “Girls talk.” She laughed at his expression. “But not always in great detail, so I ended up looking forward to hotel sex without knowing what’s supposed to be so special about it.”

  “I had no idea hotel sex is supposed to be special.” He grinned. “No pressure or anything.”

  “It’s probably just the sheets.”

  “Maybe.” Alex slid his hand through the slit so his hand was on her thigh. Then he slid it upward until his thumb brushed her clit and she sucked in a breath. “And you have two choices in a hotel. You can be loud and scream my name, and everybody around us will know what we’re doing. Or you can try to make love very quietly.”

  Gretchen felt a flush of heat across her cheeks that had nothing to do with his hand between her legs. “I don’t want everybody to know.”

  “Then I guess you’ll have to be quiet.” He slid one finger into her as he grabbed her ass with his other hand and pulled her hard against his body. She gasped and grabbed his upper arms to steady herself. “If you get carried away and moan too loud or yell my name, everybody near our room will know I’m fucking you.”

  Heat rushed through her body and she parted her legs a little more. His finger slid deep inside her as his thumb pressed against her clit with delicious pressure. She’d been thinking about this moment since he first asked her to go away for the night with him, so it wasn’t going to take much to send her over the edge.

  “You know what’s nice about this particular hotel room?” he asked, pulling his hand from between her legs. “Besides the sheets.”

  “I really like the sheets.”

  “We’ll get there. But I like the mirrors.” He took her hand and led her to the small dressing area between the bedroom and the bathroom. Both of the closet doors were mirrored, and a huge mirror hung over the vanity across from them.

  He slipped one strap down over her shoulder and pulled the neckline to one side, baring her breast to his gaze and to his mouth. He licked the nipple, teasing until it was almost painful, before closing his mouth around it. Then he did the same for the other, but through the silky white cloth.

  “Turn around,” he said. “Brace your hands on the vanity.”

  She did what he said, which put her right in front of the big mirror. Her skin was flushed and because his mouth had dampened the fabric, her nipple was clearly outlined. Her other breast was still bared for the mirror and she reached up to fix the strap.

  Alex caught her hand before she could slide it back over her shoulder. “Don’t. You look like a Grecian statue right now.”

  She might have laughed, except Alex let go of her hand to pick up a condom she hadn’t noticed on the edge of the vanity. A few seconds later, she felt the whisper of her nightgown on her thighs as he pulled it up over her hips.

  He put his hand on her back, and reached between their bodies with the other to guide himself into her. She sighed with pleasure as she pushed back against his thrust. The angle wasn’t like anything she’d felt before, and she closed her eyes to savor the sensation.

  Alex’s hand skimmed over her breast and then up her neck. “Don’t close your eyes. I want you to watch in the mirror.”

  She opened them, looking at their bodies move in the reflective glass. He used his thumb to tilt her chin away from him, giving him access to the side of her neck. His tongue blazed a hot trail up her skin before he bit gently at her earlobe.

  All the while, he moved his hips in an easy rhythm, driving fully into her with every thrust. She watched in the mirror as her lips parted and her breath quickened. Alex touched his fingertip to her lower lip and she sucked it deep into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the knuckle.

  His jaw tightened and he thrust into her hard, startling a groan from her.

  “Shhh.” His mouth was against her ear, and the reminder they could be heard made her shudder. “Watch the mirror.”

  When her gaze locked with his reflection’s, he reached down and stroked her clit with his fingertips. It was too much and Gretchen’s grip on the slick marble tightened as she jerked her hips backward against Alex.

  When the orgasm passed, she opened her eyes again to see a flushed version of herself, eyelids heavy and mouth parted as she tried to catch her breath.

  “So fucking beautiful,” Alex said, his voice low and rough. He withdrew from her and then ran his hand up the back of her neck. “Do you like the mirror?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if it was the mirror or the effect the mirror seemed to have on him that she liked.

  “Good. Let’s go try out those sheets now.” He took her hand and led her to the bed, and he shook his head when she mentioned taking the nightgown off. “I really like that fabric.”

  With Alex using her arm to steer her, she ended up crossways on the huge bed and she slid her hands across the soft sheets. “I’m sideways, you know.”

  “I know.” He grabbed her ankles and pulled her forward until her ass was lined up with the edge of the mattress, her nightgown gliding across the sheets.

  Her hands curled into fists as he pushed into her, withdrew slightly, then pressed a little deeper. It was excruciating and she finally put her hands on his hips, trying to pull him closer. He resisted.

  “You’re not rushing me tonight.”

  Alex stood between her thighs and then lifted her hips so he could enter her again. She rested her heels against his shoulders and gasped when he thrust hard. Open to him as she was, she had no control and his strokes were deep.

  “You’re being quiet, remember?” he asked, and she could hear the amusement in his voice.

  He thrust even harder, maybe hoping to get her to yell, but she grabbed one of the many pillows and held the corner of it against h
er mouth. She didn’t care if it was cheating.

  He made her come again, stifling her cries with the pillow, and it was at least a minute before she caught her breath enough to realize Alex wasn’t done with her yet. After lowering her legs to the floor, he tucked his hands under her arms and lifted her. After shifting her so she was totally on the bed again, he stretched out over her.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, grinning down at her.

  She ran her fingertip over his Adam’s apple. “I’m doing pretty good. How are you doing?”

  “I’m about to be doing exceptionally well.”

  He pushed up her nightgown again and settled himself between her thighs. This time there were no hard thrusts, though. With small, teasing strokes, he slowly filled her completely, and then he stopped. He looked down at her with that hot intensity he got when he was inside her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss. As he began to move, she moaned against his lips.

  With stroke after stroke, the tension in her body built, and she bit down on her knuckle, trying to be quiet as she came again. Then his thrusts quickened and he fisted his hand in her hair. Alex groaned against her neck, thrusting again and again through the orgasm.

  They lay there for a few moments, breathing heavily. Then Alex went into the bathroom for a moment. On his way back, he shut off the bedside lamp and then stood by the side of the bed. “Are you going to put your head on the pillows?”

  Gretchen made a negative sound rather than summon the energy to talk or to move. She was pretty content being crosswise on the bed, but it did seem like a shame to waste all those fabulous pillows.

  With a reluctant sigh, she sat up and repositioned herself the right way. Once her head was on the cloud of pillows and Alex had flipped the covers over her, it seemed worth the effort.

  “I like hotel sex,” she muttered, snuggling against his side.

  He lifted his arm so she could rest her head on his chest and then kissed her hair. “If you think the mirrors and the sheets are nice, wait until we take a shower in the morning.”