Grace crooked her finger at him, letting her playful smile take a wicked turn.
Dorian slowly approached, assessing whether he was the predator or the prey. His gaze dropped to the junction between her thighs, and his pupils darkened. He licked his lips. Hungry and determined.
Definitely the predator.
When he was close enough, she grabbed the sheath from his fingers, and hooked her leg around his thigh. Pulling him in with her calf, she fused her lips to his.
He claimed her mouth, and pulled her hips forward, sliding against the table’s smooth surface. Tingles raced along her limbs, taking as much from his tongue as he took from hers.
More lightning flared in her peripheral vision, but Grace couldn’t hear the thunder anymore. Just her own heartbeat between her ears.
With sure and needy fingers, she slid the condom on, relishing in his little gasp from taking her time over his silky skin.
Dorian fisted the hair at her nape, and pulled tight, tilting up her head. Another flash of lightning lit up his face, and ripped the breath from her lungs. The desire on his face, raw and primal, kicked her heart rate into a gallop.
Energy sparked between them that had nothing to do with the storm outside.
“I want to watch you first.” He slipped his fingers between her legs, and caressed her slit. Gentle and slow, relentlessly smoothing over her clit. He slid two digits inside her, up to the first knuckle, then to the second knuckle.
Meanwhile, his thumb circled the little nub, coiling her desire tighter. Her body twitched under his attention, and she gripped onto his shoulder to keep her balance.
“You’re especially good at that,” she panted.
“I take care of what I value. And whom I value.” He pulled her dress down from her shoulder, revealing her Cabernet colored bra. Ducking his head, he buried his face in her cleavage, licking along her skin.
Grace’s heart skipped. His mouth was so hot and searing, the room spun over her head. She gripped a chunk full of his hair, and pulled up his head. “Sometimes hard and fast is just as good.” She wrapped her legs around his ass. Then, with a firm hold on his dick, she positioned him at her entrance, and pulled him in.
Dorian swore under his breath as her body adjusted to his length. Stretching, and throbbing around him.
She lifted her hips to squeeze him in deeper, and he grabbed her ass to slam home. Grace gasped.
He pulled out again, to the very tip, scraping her wetness across her nub, then in again at full force. Her hands searched across the table for something to hold onto, but her fingers found only the edges.
Her lover increased the tempo, using her ass to keep her steady, and the leverage he needed to pump in and out.
The sweet tension in her core kept building with every thrust. Just like the muscles in his abs tightened and flexed with every move. The tattoo along his arm seemed to move in time with his pounding.
Dorian was the hottest thing she’d ever seen.
And he wanted her. Had his lustful eyes glued to her like she was the only thing in existence. His sweet and kind nature out of the bedroom made his dark, animalistic side behind closed doors that much more erotic.
She rocked into him, her breasts moving up and down with his fast strokes. They throbbed with need, and she grabbed them to hold them in place.
He growled, and wrapped his hand over hers. Fingers interlaced, he pulled down the fabric, revealing one straining, pink nipple.
“Jesus, Grace. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he rasped, his voice so husky her heart skipped. “Don’t ever cover these.” He grabbed the other, and pulled it down, letting both of her breasts bounce with free reign on every thrust.
Her entire body had free reign. Lying across the dining room table like his personal feast. She had no idea how things were going to end up between them, but tomorrow didn’t matter.
Just this connection, this submersion in pleasure she’d never experienced.
Dorian grazed a hand down her chest, along her smooth belly, and lower on her abdomen, until her reached her sex. His thumb circled her clit in time with his drive, and her inner tension quadrupled.
Climbing higher, until her gasps turned to moans rising up the octave with each heartbeat. Heat flushed her face, and she held onto the edge of the table.
Through the most thrilling, stimulating ride of her life.
“Yes…for the love of God, don’t stop,” Grace screamed.
“Not a chance, baby,” he breathed.
On his next lunge, she collapsed around him. Her whole body trembled, and she squeezed her legs around his waist. Wave after wave of her climax crashed over her, leaving her limbs tingling.
“Nothing hotter than that look right there,” Dorian managed, as his pumps grew jerky. Sweat covered his brow and he sucked her taut pink nipple into his mouth.
Her body twitched, and he chuckled. Watching his hips grind into her was almost as big a turn-on as his devilish smile.
Until he climaxed. Exploding over her in repeated spasms that left her just as breathless. The ultimate turn-on.
“I’m never getting rid of this table, ever.”
Grace fought to catch her breath. “Just don’t ask me to eat off this thing until it’s sanitized.”
He kissed her as he laughed, rumbling through her body.
The man was as delicious as he was talented.
After all this time, she never realized she was this starved.
Dorian was an all-she-could-eat buffet.
Dorian
That night, Grace lay tucked in his arms under the covers in his room. Her heart beat steady and slow against his chest, like a metronome on his soul.
Tomorrow, tabloids would probably have more crap in their headlines about this weird trio, between her, Dorian, and Ruben, but he didn’t care about any of that. None of them had the whole truth. The whole truth was…
I love her.
As the word mingled in his mind, her lilac perfume drifted over him. Grace shifted under the sheets. A calm, pleased sigh escaped her lips, and he couldn’t help but smile.
Good dreams.
He’d ached for those.
Finally, he had one. In his arms.
Which meant he’d have to work on a new career.
Something with less attention, and proof that there was, and always would be, only one woman in his life he wanted to please.
To show her her true value.
Grace is it.
Tomorrow, he’d give his notice to Duane, and end his career as a Knight. Find a new job. Begin a whole new life with the angel from 9C.
The angel now welcoming him into a new heaven.
Tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Grace
Grace cradled her head in her hands, bent over her dining room table at the documents in front of her.
Saturday morning, break of dawn, her phone had buzzed so loudly it’d nearly fallen off Dorian’s night stand. She’d grabbed it in a rush, hoping not to wake him, but he was already gone.
After finding the note he’d left by her pillow, that he was getting coffee and pastries, Grace had returned to her own apartment for a quick shower and fresh clothes. Intending on returning for a relaxing morning with the man who had breathed a new start into her life.
If only she hadn’t answered that call.
From her lawyer.
He’d hand-delivered the documents this morning, now laid out on the table for her own personal torture. She didn’t need caffeine anymore. Not with the anxiety squeezing her heart rate.
“It wasn’t a hacking, Grace.” Daniel Harlot lectured beside her, his words not giving her any comfort. “Ruben’s agent, Nigel Logan, sold the video. To boost publicity for his client, and his own agency.”
Her heart twisted. Her stomach churned and threatened to throw up the bottle of wine she’s shared with Dorian. “Did Ruben know this?”
“His publicist assured me he didn’t. Cole Do
wney was the one who discovered this, through his extensive tabloid connections. One of them turned on Ruben’s agent, and gave him up.”
She cringed. Nigel had always seemed so nice the few times she’d met him. What plagued her the most was knowing how much Ruben had trusted him. The man had arranged his first big break. Even babysat Daisy as an infant while Ruben and Julie took Pax to medical tests. “What was Nigel thinking?”
“He apparently had some debts.” The weight of Daniel’s sigh fell on her shoulders. “He broke medical privacy laws, Grace. Sign this, and I’ll go after everything he has.”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Flipping through the pages he’d drafted made her queasy. “You’ve named not only Nigel, and the tabloid site, but you’ve listed Ruben in here, as well.”
“His business relationship was the catalyst for all of this. Your privacy was shattered, and you were relentlessly targeted by tabloids this past week, because of his agent.”
“His son’s heart transplant wasn’t a secret to the media when he became the famous Ruben Wilde. He wasn’t even a celebrity when this video was made. None of this is his fault.”
Daniel sighed. “Fine. I’ll remove him from the demand letters, but let me go after the other two. Punitive damages alone will prevent them from ever taking another photo of you. Or those children.”
Grace pushed the papers away and stood. Pacing the hallway became the only thing that kept her from screaming. On her second pass, she stopped at the doorway to the empty room. The box with her family’s photos lay open, the picture of her and her husband on their wedding day resting on top.
She picked it up, and studied Grant’s face. So happy, vibrant, and excited about life. That whole event had been a whirlwind. Hastily arranging their nuptials before Meggie arrived, while suffering through morning sickness....
Suddenly, it hit her. When she stared into her dead husband’s face, she no longer felt loss. A deep, soul-gouging grief didn’t shred her insides, as it had all the previous times she’d thought of him, or had dared to pull out these photos.
“Grace?” Daniel called behind her.
She reached into the box and pulled out her daughter’s soccer picture. That familiar tug pulled on her heart, but not as consuming as before. “Live for them,” she whispered. “Enjoy life, for them.” Grace turned, holding Meggie to her heart. “Daniel, thank you for coming. You’ve done outstanding work, as usual. But I’m not pursuing this.”
His eyes widened, and he looked like he was about to vomit. “You have the strongest case here I’ve ever seen. Don’t let this go.”
“I won’t let this consume my life. I want to enjoy it, now.”
Her lawyer blustered and flipped through the pages, still staring.
“Make sure you give all the information to Ruben, so he can pursue it if he wants. But I’m finished.”
“What’re you going to do?”
She smiled and looked at Meggie’s smiling face in the photo. Grace set it on the mantel, next to the white marble cherub. A child with wings opened his arms to the sky. “I’m going to get ready for a birthday party.”
Her phone danced across the table. She glanced at the caller ID.
Ruben.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” he barked through the phone. “As if I don’t have enough on my plate.”
“I know, I can’t believe Nigel did this. You have every right to go after him, if you want to.”
“I’m not talking about that prick! That Dorian jackass!”
Grace smarted. “What did he do?”
“Are you honestly going to pretend you don’t know? I invited the man to my daughter’s birthday party, Grace. He was pictured next to me in all those charity interviews. How could you set me up like this?” His barking grew hoarse with every accusation.
“Calm down. What are you talking about?”
“A damn gigolo!”
The world fuzzed over, and her head pounded. “Wh-what? How did—”
“It’s all over the tabloids! Entertainment consultant, my ass.”
Panic rushed her chest, and it was hard to breathe.
“For Christ’s sake, please tell me you didn’t use charity funds to pay for an escort.”
“Of course not. I need to go.”
“Grace, don’t—”
She hung up and rushed to her laptop. Over a hundred emails flooded her inbox. It didn’t take long for her to find the top story on various entertainment sites.
Just a Gigolo
Did a Charity Pay for Exec’s Dalliances with a Male Escort?
A frigid vice clamped down on her lungs, and the blood drained from her face. Pictured above an article full of lies was Dorian’s handsome physique in a suit and tie, beside her and Ruben at the check unveiling. Then another one of her and Ruben out to dinner last night. The words ripped her apart.
Possible misuse of non-profit funds…
Over-ambitious escort finagles his way up the corporate-sex ladder…
America’s beloved reality show host caught in the mix…
“What’s going on?” Daniel asked behind her.
She didn’t have to reply.
He looked over her shoulder, and gasped. “Oh, shit…”
Oh, shit indeed.
Dorian
Dorian grinned at himself while in line at the coffee shop. He’d made up his mind about what he was going to do next, since he was giving up being a Knight. Funny, how that thought had been nearly devastating to him not a month before, but now the idea thrilled him.
Being with Grace, permanently…
The previous night confirmed everything. He’d never been more sure of anything.
Dorian stepped forward in line, now only one person in front of him. The lady put her phone on the counter to dig around in her purse. Her gaze caught his face, and she blinked.
“You’re him…”
“Excuse me?”
She scowled. “You have no shame. Helping her rip off little kids like that.”
He frowned. “What’re you talking about?”
She grabbed her phone, and showed him the screen.
He froze.
On her smartphone was his picture, next to a slanderous headline outing him as a gigolo. Even worse, it claimed Grace had misused charity funds to date him. His fingers went numb, and the earlier joy vanished in the flicker of a screen.
Dorian turned. How many other people are reading the same damn article right now? Most everyone had their heads down, looking at some electronic device.
Each of them was a window into his world, one he didn’t want displayed. One he’d worked hard to keep private.
“How could you drag Ruben Wilde into that? Both her and you are just disgusting.” The lady’s scowl deepened, and even the faux-hawked barista cast a disapproving glare at him.
I have to get out of here.
Dorian barreled out the door, nearly knocking over an advertisement banner in the middle of the aisle. He yanked his phone from his pocket, and dialed Grace.
Straight to voicemail.
The device vibrated in his hand with an incoming text.
I’m in a shit storm because of you. You’re out. D
“Shit.” That bastard doesn’t have the decency to fire me face-to-face.
None of that mattered.
He had to get back to Grace. Dorian prayed she hadn’t seen that article yet. Maybe, she’d still be asleep in his bed. If only…
I can handle it.
He’d said that phrase more than a dozen times in the last week. Because there wasn’t much he couldn’t handle. He thought he had most of the chaos under control over the last few days.
Managing rumors and spin-doctoring gossip to mitigate potential fall-out was a small part of the role as a Knight. If done right, very little of it was needed.
This time, somehow he slipped.
“How the hell did they find out?” he murmured to himself as he raced to the condo. He’d only th
rown on a black t-shirt with his workout shorts, and his worn leather sandals made dodging the scattered puddles more difficult.
Misuse of funds? Where do they come up with this shit?
Even though the connection between them had never involved money, now her charity would be under scrutiny. There was no faster way to drive off donations than having a non-profit under investigation for fraud. That monumental Inquisition was sure to happen now.
All because of Dorian and his stupid role as a Knight.
He charged through the lobby, and couldn’t believe how slow the elevator was going. Finally, when he made it to his apartment, he found it empty.
No Grace.
The note he’d left her lay on the dining room table. The same table where he’d made love to her several nights in a row.
He dialed her phone again.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
His cell vibrated with another text. This time, from Vaughn.
Saw the article. Total bullshit. Let me know what you need.
At least some of his friends were supportive. Dorian didn’t have time to think about that. He’d call the guy later. He had to find Grace.
He forced a deep breath, and went outside his apartment. Jammed his thumb on the elevator call button, and swore when it took too long, yet again. He darted for the staircase, going up one more floor.
The second he burst through the stairwell door, Daniel Harlot left Grace’s apartment. His distinct glare was easy to identify, even before he registered Dorian’s entrance.
“Mr. West. Ms. Evans has had enough turmoil for one morning. You should leave her alone right now.”
Damn.
That meant she had seen the article.
“However,” Her attorney reached into his pocket, and handed him his card. “Given recent developments, if you’re considering legal action, feel free to give my office a call. You have some options.”
“Thanks,” he replied automatically. Dorian wasn’t even looking at the lawyer. His gaze was at Grace’s closed door. His thoughts were on her emotions.
What she could possibly be thinking? She’d clearly read the atrocious things in the tabloid, if she had her attorney at her doorstep first thing on a Saturday morning. How much did that lawyer charge for being on beck and call? Enough as a Knight?
Tell Me What You Crave Page 13
