He walked into the kitchen and I could hear him puttering about. He came back in a minute, holding a Ziploc bag filled with ice, and was wrapping a kitchen towel around it. He took my elbow and began leading me into his bedroom. I still had my shirt pulled up around my chin, trying to keep the girls under cover in front. I saw him sneak a glance down and then shake his head. He was smiling that sexy little half grin.
“You're in quite the compromising position.”
“Compromise this,” I shot back, as we walked into his bedroom. I could tell he had just straightened up right before I got there and I was touched.
It smelled like Febreze.
He guided me over to the bed. “Right then, you lay down and I'm gonna put this on your back. It should feel better. I promise I won't peek,” he stated, as I stood in front of him. I stretched up on my tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his neck and then kicked off my sneakers.
“Close your eyes,” I whispered. He grinned and his eyes slammed shut dramatically.
I lifted my shirt off over my head and tossed it on the floor in front of me. As it hit the tops of his feet, he smiled again.
“You promised, no peeking,” I scolded, moving over to his bed.
“I know. I'm trying. You're kind of killin' me here. Let me know when you're settled,” he said softly.
“All right, I'm good. You can open now,” I answered. I had settled myself on the middle of his bed, lying on my tummy, facing him. I had grabbed a pillow and placed it below me and it was keeping me covered. Mostly. I might have arranged my cleavage a little. He opened his eyes and took me in.
“Why the hell couldn't you have spilled some on your pants, too, Grace?” he joked, sitting next to me. “Hold still, here comes the ice.” He gently placed the towel wrapped ice bag on the place where it was the most red and I hissed involuntarily.
“Does that hurt much?” he asked, his other hand running up and down my arm soothingly.
“No, not too much. It's just the cold.”
We both smiled at each other again. I looked around his room and noticed a guitar in the corner. I would have to remember to ask him about that.
I sighed. “What's that about?” he asked, noticing the sigh.
“It's nothing. When I imagined me being topless in your bedroom, there wasn't an ice pack involved,” I joked.
“You are not the only one who has imagined you topless in here. Who knew you would sustain an injury, though?” he answered.
“Well, I'm here. And I am topless.”
“Yes, and still burned. I wouldn't want you to injure yourself further,” he stated firmly.
I looked at him. He was sitting cross legged on the bed next to me with the ice bag in one hand, holding it to my back. The other was still on my arm. He looked like a piece of heaven. I couldn't resist him; he was too delicious.
I sat up, with my hands still covering me. He slid the ice off my back. I reached out my hands to him, leaving me open to his gaze. His eyes widened and a slow grin spread across his face. I pushed him back onto the pillows and swung one leg over.
“It's OK, Hamilton. I'll just have to be on top.”
“Beautiful,” he breathed.
Nice move, Grace, now go get yours.
***
We did not do the deed. That would have been too easy, too soon. It would've been amazing, but amazing too soon. I thought about what had transpired between us as I drove home. My mind kept flashing on images that were particularly pleasant.
His eyes, staring up at me as I straddled him, running my hands through my hair, smirking down at him…
His hands, when he touched me for the first time. He'd run them slowly from my hips to my belly, and then proceeded, with agonizing slowness, to my breasts. He watched my face for approval as he circled me, caressing the sides of each before gently kneading my skin. I had moaned when his fingertips brushed against my nipples, which hardened instantly.
His soft smile, as he watched me begin to come undone…
His strength, as he sat up underneath me, nuzzling at my neck. He had been so careful not to touch my back, and he used my hips to guide me closer to him. I only cringed slightly when he grasped me there; I wasn't quite as self conscious as I had once been. I had lost my hands in his hair again. His breath had gotten heavier and more uneven as I pressed my hips downward onto him, eliciting a groan that made my blood boil and my tummy flip.
His lips, as he pressed them further down my neck towards my breasts. I had arched backwards to get better leverage and he kissed down between them. He had planted soft kisses all over, between, below, and around.
His tongue, when he finally took my right nipple into his mouth. He had sucked tortuously, running his tongue back and forth before releasing it with a nibble. He had grinned wickedly at me, as he watched my reaction.
It had been unreal. There were truly no words.
When we'd finally broken apart, panting heavily, we just stared at each other with unmistakable lust. My lips had been swollen from his more passionate kisses, and the subtle scratches from his stubble. I had still been sitting on his lap, my legs wrapped around him. He had laid his head on my chest, nudging my head back so he could snuggle into the nook between my shoulder and breast. His strong arms had encircled me, making sure there was no space between our skin. I'd trailed my hands through his hair again, more gently, using my fingernails to massage his scalp. This was something I'd quickly discovered that he loved.
He had sighed contentedly and asked, “How is it possible that I have only known you a few days?”
“I know. I know,” I soothed, pulling him even closer to me. The franticness of earlier had segued into a smooth and easy pace of touching and feeling and comforting and closeness. It was sweet.
“How's your back?” he asked, not pulling away. If anything, he had cuddled closer to me. I felt his warm breath on my chest.
“It's better. Thanks for the distraction,” I had replied, kissing his forehead, his temples, his nose, his eyelids, his eyebrows. He had sighed again, making a light humming sound in the back of his throat that I'd filed it away as “Jack's Happy Sound”.
A horn honking brought me back down to earth, snapping me out of my memory. I brushed my fingertips over my still swollen lips and grinned. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the rear view mirror and my heart flipped as I remembered what I was wearing. My shirt had still been wet with coffee, so when I left I was wearing one of his shirts, a long sleeved white thermal. It would have fit him snugly, but I was swimming in it. He took the time to roll up my sleeves for me, while I stood in front of him at his front door. I noticed, and not for the first time, how much taller than me he was. He was easily over six feet, and he gazed down at me adoringly. He handed me my ruined shirt in a baggie and smiled at me. I wondered if things would change now. We had made out all morning, hardly joking at all.
Would we be friends now? Would we be mushy now? Would we be anything now?
He leaned to kiss me goodbye and whispered in my ear, “In case I didn't tell you, you have gorgeous tits.”
I grinned inwardly, then placed my mouth right next to his ear. “I know, wait until you see the rest of me.”
We both cracked huge smiles and I trotted away towards my car. When I got there, I looked back and saw him still standing there, watching me.
“See ya, Hamilton!”
“Later, Sheridan.”
Yeah, things will be just fine.
***
Jack and I had agreed that for the rest of the day, I was working. He was in between jobs right now, although he was doing more and more press for the film. Holly also had him taking meetings all over town, making sure that the doors were open when this movie premiered. All the industry trackers were predicting a commercial success, possibly even forty million plus opening weekend. If all went well, Jack would have significant bargaining power when choosing his next few jobs. Holly was determined that they would use his new power position to secure his c
areer, rather than capitalize on just the next eighteen months while he was the new “it boy”.
Because he wasn't technically working right now, he was enjoying his last few months of relaxation in relative anonymity, although even that was no longer guaranteed. I thought about the pictures from yesterday and I thought how a picture of me leaving his apartment in what was obviously his shirt could affect him.
It would have looked like we were indulging in a little afternoon delight, to which I was no longer opposed.
I was behind on my work with my scene partner, not to mention almost overdue on a project that I was working on for a client. I told Jack, emphatically, that he was not allowed to call me, email me, or send me texts until I reached out to him. He was so charming that he would pull my focus from whatever task I was trying to complete—not that I was complaining. The time we spent together this morning was crazy-town good. I needed to keep both feet planted firmly on the ground, however. It would be so easy to get carried away with all things Hamilton. Besides, I had another motive for spending the afternoon alone.
I wanted to Google him.
Ever since he'd mentioned it at the beach, I'd been considering it. I mean, really, it wasn't too stalkerish, was it? If I was dating any other guy and I knew there were oodles of information available, just waiting for me, wouldn't I take advantage of it? Was this creepy?
Hells bells, Loretta, just Google him for fuck's sake.
I made myself work for a few hours when I got home, after I took a peek at my back. It was still red, but not too bad. I might milk it a little next time I saw him, score some sympathy points. Maybe even a back rub. Yeah, a back rub. His hands would trail lightly down my back, further still to my panties, and then…
Focus up, Grace.
I did work for a few hours, and then I switched over to the open mike night I had planned for the following week. I strummed my guitar, practicing the songs I had chosen. I had recently begun to write some of my own songs, but I wasn't quite confident enough about them yet to sing them in public.
I was still singing when I noticed it was almost dinnertime and Holly would be home soon. I would have to Google later. I raced through the shower and was just getting dressed when she called to let me know she was about five minutes away. She was bringing Thai home for dinner.
I was slipping into a white linen shift when she poked her head into my room.
“Hey, ass. Dinner's downstairs and you've got a package waiting for you on the front porch.”
“I do?”
“Yeah, it's right outside. Go get your package.” She smiled as I walked past her, raising an eyebrow. She just shrugged and pointed me towards the front door.
I walked out and saw a white envelope on the front step. I opened it, and found a Starbucks gift card. The note attached said:
You didn't say anything about a handwritten delivery
when you cut off all forms of communication.
Turn around.
“Oh man, Hamilton, are you here?” I called out as I turned around. He caught me up into a close hug, pulling back to kiss my forehead.
“I brought you this, since you didn't really get your money's worth this morning.”
“You're silly, and I told you no communication. Obviously this would include face to face,” I pouted, relaxing a little into his grasp.
“Why are you so serious about this no communication thing?” he inquired, lowering his face to mine and beginning to sweep gentle kisses from my ear down to my neck.
“This is why. Because I can't focus when you do that,” I sighed, leaning in to him against my better judgment.
“Can't focus, huh? So, I shouldn't do this?” he asked innocently, brushing his fingertips down my bare arms. He slid his hand along my shoulder, inside the linen dress and began to move towards my breast.
“No, you shouldn't,” I protested, weakly. I was already beginning to get worked up and could feel my breasts tighten as he moved closer.
“I like this dress, Grace. I've never seen you in a dress.”
“No kidding. We just met! So far, you have seen me in workout clothes, a racing suit and a slutty pair of jeans. And a Saltine shower.”
He laughed, remembering the Saltines. “Well, they were all memorable. But the dress? My favorite so far.” He continued his assault on my senses, running his hands further down my sides, and starting to gather handfuls of linen, lifting my dress up high on my thighs.
“For fuck's sake, we can't do this here! This is so inappropriate. This is wrong. This is…Oh, God…” I stopped, unable to speak.
He'd allowed his fingertips to slide all the way up my legs, stopping only when he reached my lacy panties. He traced the edge of the lace, starting at my hip and moving down, then covering me with his hand. I couldn't help the moan that escaped me.
“Are you focusing right now, Grace?” He breathed into my ear.
“Um, yes? But you don't affect me as much as you think you do.” I tried feebly to keep control of the conversation, since I was losing control of the lower half of my body.
“I don't think that's true.” He frowned at me, pulling the lace aside, his fingers hovering just above me. Like before, even though he wasn't actually touching me, I could feel him. I could feel where he was and I knew he knew exactly what this was doing to me. “In fact, I would say, you are very affected by this,” he whispered hotly, holding my gaze with his own, his piercing eyes not allowing me to look away.
Then, his fingers touched me.
I have never in my life felt so aroused. It was magic. His fingers fluttered along, grazing me lightly. I almost came right then. I shuddered.
“Mmm, Grace. You sure this isn't affecting you?” he continued, pressing down on me. I almost lost my balance. He pushed me back up against the door, slamming me against the doorbell. I heard it ring out.
“Coming!” I heard Holly say as she clicked across the floor to the front door.
“Not quite, but she's close.” He chuckled, removing his hand and leaving me breathless and rosy cheeked.
“I'll just let you get back to focusing. Call me when you're ready to finish this,” he said, laughing lightly at my frustrated and confused look.
“Guh,” I mumbled. He slipped into the darkness, but I could hear him. I amused him.
Holly opened the door and took one look at me. I was still against the door with my dress bunched up around my hips. I was shaking my head in wonderment, looking frazzled and thrilled all at the same time.
“Oh, God, the British have landed, haven't they?” she asked.
I looked up at her, incapable of speech.
I distinctly heard Jack's laughter slice through the night as his car sped away.
“You better not have fucked her up against my front door, Jack!” she called after him.
As his car disappeared around the corner, I heard him yell, “Not yet, Holly!”
Holly shook her finger at me in a tsk-tsk fashion and went back inside. Seconds later she turned the porch light out on me.
You just lost the power of speech.
The_Unidentified_Redhead
Chapter Ten
Though we had only known each other for a few days, that night had marked a turning point in our “relationship”. It was on. I knew that we were stupid attracted to each other. I knew that it made no sense at all that we were even engaging in what was now beyond a mild flirtation. I knew that the nine-year age difference was huge and that whether I wanted to or not, it would eventually be something that I would have to deal with. I knew that he was already Mr. Hot Shit, UK version, and about to blow up into a huge star. I knew that there was little to no chance that we would both make it out of this OK.
I knew that he was going to fuck me like it was his job.
And I knew that I was going to let him.
Even though all of that other stuff was there and would eventually have to be dealt with, I was now beyond the point of being able to resist. I was going to let my
body take over and my brain worry about something else. All the mental junk got pushed to the side and placed in a box titled “Grace Will Deal With You Later, She Is Now Being Run By Her Oonie”.
The rest of that week, we talked on the phone, we emailed, we texted and even made Holly act as a go between, much to her consternation. She was forced to relay messages like: “Tell Sheridan I saw a seagull this morning that needed a soft place to land,” and “Tell Hamilton there is a sale on ChapStick if he needs to stock up; that bottom lip is looking a little ragged” and “Tell Sheridan that she should use Bengay if her joints are acting up; that's what my dad uses,” and “Tell Hamilton that the meter reader guy put some on me last night, and it felt gooood.” Eventually Holly refused to continue this telephone game, shouting over the phone in front of famous client who was there to take a meeting, “Would you two just fuck and get it over with!”
We didn't see each other until the following week. I really was behind on work. I was getting ready for the showcase and that night I was finally testing out my two songs at open mike night. Holly and Nick were meeting me at a club off Fairfax. I was a little nervous, but more excited than anything else. I needed to practice and I was just becoming comfortable performing in front of an audience again.
I was also still working my way through the Time series, and this Joshua was one Super Sexy Scientist Guy…who happened to engage in a ravishingly steamy love affair with a different lady in each time period. I was hooked. Was I reading erotica? Time traveling erotica? Perhaps…
I had talked to Jack in the late afternoon. He'd been onset doing re-shoots at a studio in the valley all day and was going to try to make it to the club in time.
“I'm not sure what time I'll be done. They tell me I should be out of here by eight-ish, but that's usually rubbish,” he sighed into the phone.
“Well, if you get here, you get here. If not, no big deal. I might be doing another open mike next week, too,” I answered, picking at a nonexistent piece of lint on my jeans. I really was getting more nervous about tonight than I thought. This was good, though, good energy to have.
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