Up to Me (Shore Secrets)

by Christi Barth

  “Is this okay?” he whispered. The uncertainty in his voice touched her heart. Almost as much as the fact that he’d gone to the trouble to study how to massage her.

  “It’s wonderful, Gray. Thank you.” Ella flipped her head to the other side to catch a glimpse of him in the mirror on the back of the door. The bunched line of muscles on his back as he worked on her was one of the sexiest things she’d ever seen. Minutes passed as she grew hypnotized from the combination of staring at him and feeling his hands mold their way down her back. Her eyes fluttered shut in delight as the strong kneading of her ass softened into a caress. And then it became impossible to hold still.

  With a firm nudge on her hip and arm, Ella got the clue to turn back over. As she flipped, she watched Gray shed his shorts. And gasped. Running on pure instinct and need, she reached out a hand, bursting with impatience to touch the long, hard length jutting out from a thick nest of dark hair. Again, he pushed her away. Didn’t he realize that she craved the feel of his body as much as he did hers?

  “To further clarify my answer to your earlier question, I’m not aiming to give you a successful orgasm. I want to give you a spectacular one.” Gray lifted the squeeze bottle of her massage oil high, then loosed a steady drizzle onto her nipple.

  Ella’s eyes must’ve rolled back in her head. Or she’d closed them. She just knew that instead of Gray’s face, she was suddenly seeing stars. The stream of oil moved over to her other breast. Needing to touch him even more, she flailed out an arm. Grabbed onto his thigh and clung, digging her fingers into the solid core of muscle.

  He knelt on the table. Straddled her, which brought his dick tantalizingly close. The tip brushed against her, but not enough to give any relief. Using both hands, Gray spread the oil in slowly widening circles across her torso. Ella quivered. His slick touch set her aflame. Again, she wrapped both her hands around his thighs, trying to tug him closer.

  Instead, he sat back. Picked up the bottle again and drizzled a line down her stomach, past her bellybutton, until the warm oil fell directly on the burning center of all her desire. Ella thrashed. There was no other word for it. She needed him inside her like she’d never needed anything else in her life. Her hips bucked. And then he covered her mound with one big, warm palm and spread the oil there, too.

  “Gray, please, please, please,” she chanted. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

  Another quicksilver flash of a grin. “As long as you’re sure.” He rolled on the condom, then lowered himself until his wonderful heaviness covered her from chest to toe. Slowly, he nudged her legs apart. Ella let her knees fall open. In one long, deliberate thrust, he entered her. Then held perfectly still. “Christ, Ella, you’re so tight and hot. You’re—” Gray shuddered out a breath. Dropped his head to the curve of her neck. “You’re hotter than the sun.”

  “Let’s burn up together.” She moved her hips, writhing sinuously beneath him. Gray matched her rhythm. Stroke after stroke. Sigh after gasp after moan. In sync, they sped up. He seemed as much in a hurry all of a sudden as she was. Driving into her harder and harder, Gray covered her mouth in a deep kiss. Ella arched up, screaming into him as he set off a chain reaction throughout her body that culminated in a firestorm of passion exploding. One final thrust, and a guttural moan tore out of his throat as he spasmed inside her.

  They lay together, able to do no more than gasp in unison for a few moments. Ella didn’t know what to say. Those first words after sex set a tone for everything that happened after. And in her experience, no matter what either person said, it always sounded inane. Like nothing could possibly compare to the actual experience.

  This time, with Gray, that was particularly true. He’d exploded her senses. Made Ella see fireworks and feel earthquakes and gasp at the shooting stars of sensation pulsing through her body. No way to put that into words without basically calling him a sexual superhero. So she waited. Let Gray bumble his way through it first.

  “Ella...you...I...wow.”

  Whew. Totally lame. Anything she said would sound Shakespearean compared to that. Ella lazily stroked the line of his toned, tight ass. Guess all that running he did paid off. She’d cut him more slack for skipping yoga with these kinds of results from pounding on the pavement. “That’s all you’ve got to say? Thought you were a smooth talker,” she teased.

  Gray raised himself on his elbows to what was an impressive plank position. Not that she’d break the moment to tell him so. A hank of dark hair that she’d personally disheveled fell over his forehead, lending him a youthful rakishness. Then he cradled her face, broad thumbs tracing the line of her cheekbones.

  “You’re the one who’s smooth. Ella, you smooth over all the cracks in my heart. Filling in spaces I didn’t even know I still cared about. Thank you.”

  She took it all back. There were perfect words for after making love for the first time, after all. Gray had just spoken them to her. And she’d remember them forever. But first she had to figure out how to respond. Because the only words that came to mind—there were three of them, and they’d been known for centuries to send men running the opposite direction the world over—were the three words Ella could not, under any circumstance, risk telling Gray.

  He shifted his forearms, laying them flat on the table. “Is this thing heated?”

  “Of course.”

  “Nice. For round two, you definitely have to be on top so I get a warm backside while you warm my front side.”

  “There’s going to be a round two? Here?”

  “We’ve still got what—nineteen condoms left? I’d planned to relocate to your room to shower off the oil...” His voice trailed off. “That’s a Swiss shower over there.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Sixteen shower heads. Big enough for two.”

  Gray turned his head, checking out the rest of the room. “And is that a full-length mirror on the door?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t know how I missed that before. Gives me all sorts of ideas. Sweetheart, we could be camped out in here all night. Don’t plan on seeing your bed before breakfast.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gray could be patient, when necessary. He didn’t mind sitting through previews before a movie. Understood that the long wait through baseball season made the first football kickoff that much more exciting. But he’d been awake for a seven whole minutes now, and couldn’t wait another second for Ella. Staring at her while she slept far from sucked, as he’d discovered over the past two nights, but it also made him antsy to watch those beautiful green eyes lock onto his. Their time together was limited enough.

  So he eased the sheets lower. Took a moment to appreciate the leaf-shaped shadows dancing across Ella’s bare back, thanks to the bright sun battling against the sheers at her window. Then Gray rested his palm on the warm, sweet roundness of her ass. Caressed it while he dropped a kiss at the hollow of her back. Lingered there with a couple more, because it felt so good. Kissed his way up her spine—but only made it halfway before she rolled over.

  “You could make millions if you hired yourself out to wake people up like that.” Ella languidly crossed her hands behind his neck. “You know, instead of an alarm clock.”

  He didn’t need millions. Gray would happily wake one person up like that every morning. For free. And that particular person was currently stretched out naked beneath him. “Logistics would put a crimp in your scheme. Unless I could time travel. Or teleport. Probably’d need to do both. But I’ll take the compliment.”

  “That’d be a fun what-if discussion.”

  “What?” he asked, nuzzling at the creamy softness between her breasts.

  “Where would you go if you could time travel? Or teleport?”

  “Nowhere.”

  Ella laughed, shifted her hips to seat him more fully against her. “I think you’re missing the point of the game. You give m
e a time and place, and then I give you one, and we argue fiercely about who made the cooler choice.”

  “There’s no argument. If I could choose to be any day, any year, any century, any place on the globe? It’d be right here with you. Nothing could top this.”

  As the words slipped out, Gray realized he sounded like a greeting card. And worried that he’d said the wrong thing. Or said it too soon. Sure, they’d spent the last forty hours together nonstop, and most of that in bed. They’d talked about a million things. But they hadn’t, thank God, had the serious talk. The one where real life and the future came up.

  He didn’t regret saying it, aside from the epic cheesiness, because Gray meant every word. While he didn’t so much want to hide his feelings from Ella, he hadn’t necessarily planned to share them until he’d figured out what to do about them. What to do about his life. How to hold on to Ella once he came clean about his real reason for being here. And he’d been far too distracted by her for the last forty hours to come up with a plan.

  Hands fisted in his hair, Ella drew him down for a long, drugging kiss. Talk about the perfect way to start the day. “You always know exactly the right thing to say.”

  God, she was so wrong it was laughable. Gray didn’t know what to say or how to say it even if he did magically pull a solution out of his ass. On the plus side, Ella was naked. So was he. And they were well on their way to not talking about anything for the next half hour or so.

  Ella’s cell phone rang...well, it didn’t ring. It made some gong-like noise that made Gray think of scarlet-robed monks and Tibetan prayer flags whipping in the Himalayan wind. Clearly he’d watched too many classic kung-fu movies. Ella tried to wriggle out from beneath him. Silly girl.

  Gray clamped his hands around her wrists, spreading her arms wide to the opposite sides of the bed. And didn’t that visual give him some ideas! “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “That’s my phone.”

  “It’s got the worst ringtone ever. All soft and peaceful. What good is that?”

  “That way it doesn’t disturb the mood of the spa when I’m in the office. Ringtones are personal, Gray. Don’t judge.”

  Hard to imagine. The freedom of such a small thing like personalizing a ringtone, instead of making it conform to a business norm. That freedom called to him. It might as well have been a tequila shot at a twenty-first birthday celebration. Irresistible. And ridiculous. That he’d wrap up everything he hated about his job and pin it all on a fucking ringtone.

  So Gray probably let a little too much gruffness slip out when he ordered, “Don’t answer it.”

  Ella rolled her eyes. “I have to. It might be Brooke, with questions about today’s schedule.”

  “So call in sick. Again,” he smirked. Then threw in a leer topped off with an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle for good measure. And in case she still hadn’t boarded his train of thought, Gray tilted his hips more solidly into the welcoming warmth between her legs.

  “Hey, I never said I was sick. I wouldn’t lie like that. It’d skew the karmic balance. When I told Brooke I wouldn’t be in yesterday, I said I didn’t feel good.” She finished off with a nod that landed some of her hair on his arm. That silky feeling that drove him crazy gave him a flashback to when she’d trailed it down across his stomach.

  Yeah, Ella sounded all self-righteous. But her hips circled right back while she railed at him. “What’s the difference?”

  “It was the truth. I didn’t feel good.” Her solemn expression relaxed into a gleeful grin. Ella tossed her head back and forth against the pink satin pillowcase. “I felt sensational.”

  It surprised a snicker out of him. Diverted his focus enough that she slid from beneath him straight out of bed. “You think karma’s going to give you a pass over semantics?” Gray asked, enjoying the view as she crawled through the tangle of clothes on the floor, patting for her phone.

  The clothes weren’t the only mess. Towels heaped in the bathroom from their bubble bath. Room service trays and empty wine bottles piled by the door. The wreck they’d made of her rooms reminded him a lot of similar damage done to a penthouse suite in Atlantic City during a bachelor party that started with strippers and ended with tattoos. The only reason Gray had escaped without something inked or pierced was that he’d passed out an hour too early...or just in time, depending on who you asked.

  She bit her lower lip. “I think it’s worth a shot.” Then brandished her phone in triumph. Gray was just glad the stupid, tinny bonging finally stopped. While she talked, Gray lay back. Maybe when Ella went to the bathroom he’d reprogram the ring tone with something better. Something that would make her think of him. When he wasn’t here any more. Crap. Now that he’d started thinking about the future, he couldn’t stop.

  Gray crossed his arms beneath his head. Stared at a framed print of a purple sunset over the ocean. Leaving R&M was selfish. Since his mom had put her happiness on hold to provide for him over the years, why couldn’t Gray do the same for her? How could he, in all good conscience, put career satisfaction over his mom’s happiness? Let alone bringing a potential girlfriend into the mix. A girlfriend who might just hate his guts when she learned the secret he’d been keeping.

  With a bounce, Ella landed on the bed. To his great disappointment, she’d put on a pink-and-white-striped robe. “Guess what?”

  “That was Brooke. All your clients canceled so you can spend the day in bed with me. Again.” He tugged at the sash of her robe.

  She swatted his hand away. “Not even close. Besides, the idea of all that lost revenue scares me. Don’t even joke about it.” Ella reached over to knock on the wood of her nightstand. “It was Eugene.”

  Gray rolled his head to look at the clock. “At nine on a Sunday morning? You need to have a talk with him about boundaries.” Living at your jobsite could be convenient. But it could also lead to a messy convergence of work upon personal time. Like people who took their smartphones into the bathroom. There had to be a line.

  “Not when he’s calling with such good news. We did it.” She bounced again, this time throwing her arms in the air with an interesting shimmy that gaped her robe in all the right places. “We’re sold out for Memorial Day weekend.”

  Gray scooted up to a seated position. “Terrific.” He couldn’t be happier for her. And sitting here in her bed, he couldn’t begin to worry about what it meant for his report.

  “All the credit goes to you. I was stubborn. Stuck in the past, choked by the weight of tradition. I’m really glad you forced me to reassess the potential upside to moving the party. Plus, you helped with that kid the other day. Jumped in when we had that skirmish between the bellboys. You’ve really got your finger on the pulse of how to make a hotel run smoothly.”

  There it was. His opening. His chance to come clean and tell her why he knew how to handle those situations. Gray wanted to do it. While he’d been careful so far not to flat out lie—aside from saying he was on vacation, everything else out of his mouth to her had been true—he hated the weight of this secret. In a little over a week, Ella had become so vital in his life.

  God, he’d already taken huge risks by helping the Manor so much. Basically chosen sides. Shucked his R&M jersey and allied himself with Ella’s team. Luckily, Gray was the only one who knew that at this point. Was it so wrong to want to wring out a few extra days of bliss with Ella? To store up the memories against the day she potentially slapped his face and stormed away?

  Before he could jump through the open door she’d provided, Ella threw his robe in his face. “Get up.”

  “Get back in,” he countered, tugging her towards him.

  “No. I mean, not yet. We need fuel before we embark upon round...whatever it is. I’m going to order room service. How does stuffed French toast and bacon sound?”

  “Like I should’ve started sleeping with hotel owne
rs a long time ago.”

  Ella dove on him, fingers unerringly finding his most ticklish places. “If that’s true, then clearly I should’ve started sleeping with all my handsome guests a long time ago.”

  Gasping with laughter, Gray grabbed her wrists. “Please. There’s been no one as good-looking as me,” he teased with a shit-eating grin.

  “No.” Everything about her softened. From her splayed thighs straddling him to fluttering eyelashes and solemn smile. “There’s never been anyone quite like you.”

  Shaken to the core, Gray let go. And she slid off the bed, out of his reach.

  While Ella ordered breakfast, Gray went out to the balcony, flagstones cool beneath his feet. Took a deep breath of the freaking amazing clean air. Let it out slowly, the way she’d taught him in yoga. Repeated it a couple of times as he tied his robe. Leaned a hip and shoulder against the stone wall and gazed out, past the trees at the lake, about ten shades more intense than the sky above it. And wondered what it would be like to be rooted here. To wake up every morning to this peace. To wake up every morning to the peace of Ella next to him.

  Why not stay? Say all the stars aligned. He figured out what career to try next, and they didn’t offer him slave wages. Say he could do this mystery job and still provide for his mom. Why couldn’t he do it here? With Ella? Here at Seneca Lake, where he’d already made deeper friendships in nine days, was already more accepted than in all the years he’d been a no-name, drop in the bucket in Manhattan.

  A pair of birds landed on the branch near him, drooping it so close he could’ve reached out and touched them. Their chatter blended in with the rustle of tree leaves and the comfortable clink of the patio diners two floors below. Noises that made him feel not alone.

  It all came down to Ella. Would she have him? Would she understand the horrible position he’d been in once he started falling ass-over-size-twelves in love with her? Did she care about him enough to overlook the name stamped on the top of his paycheck and just see Graydon Locke?