Make-Believe Mistress
Page 9
Standing there in just his jockey shorts he let her explore him. Her fingers traced the line of a scar he’d always had, which wrapped from the front of his hip around to his back.
“How’d you get this?”
Adam shrugged. His mother had told him it had happened when he was only six months old. She’d never said anything more and he’d never asked about it. But when he’d learned that she was really his adoptive mother he’d wondered again how he’d gotten the scar.
“I’ve always had it,” he said. She traced it again with her fingers then hooked her other arm around his waist and drew him back to the edge of the bed. He felt her lips along his flank. Kissing and nibbling, tasting him. He tightened painfully and he knew that the slow and easy round of lovemaking he’d wanted for their first time wasn’t going to happen.
He wanted her. He needed her soft touches. He needed her combination of shy looks and bold caresses. He needed…her. He sank down on the bed, moving over her. She smiled up at him, her hands still exploring him everywhere. Touching his chest, tangling in the hair there and tugging on it.
He pushed her jeans down her legs, removing her shoes and socks, too. He sank back on his haunches and just stared at her. She was bare except for the brief fabric of her bright blue bikini panties. They were made of silk and lace and he remembered the feel of her warmth against his fingers, the fabric under his hand as he’d touched her on the couch.
He wanted more than memory. He wanted to feel her again. To feel her now. “Are you on the pill?”
“No. I don’t have any condoms, either.”
“I brought my own.”
“Always prepared?” she asked. There was something in her tone that made him realize the answer to this next question was very important.
“I’m prepared for you. I don’t carry condoms around as a rule but you are pure temptation, Gracie, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist.”
“Come to me,” she said, leaning back against the pile of pillows. She pushed her panties down her hips and kicked them to the floor. She opened her arms and bent her knees.
He shed his underwear in record time and grabbed the condom from his pocket. He’d put it there earlier in the hopes that the evening would end this way.
He took her feet in each of his hands and drew her down until she lay flat on the bed. He pushed her legs wide open and held himself over her, braced on his forearms leaving only an inch of space between their bodies.
He lowered his hips and felt her moist center. His control slipped. She shifted, reaching down to encircle him with her hand.
“Where’s your condom?”
“Right here.” He dropped it next to her. He kissed her, starting at her neck and moving down her body, unable to resist the temptation to taste her. He leaned down to lick each nipple until it tightened. Then he blew gently on the tips. She raked her nails down his back.
He held her still with a hand on her stomach as he suckled on each of her breasts until her nipples were hard and red. He glanced up at her and saw her swallow. Her hands shifted on the bed next to her hips.
He traced a path down her center until he got to her belly button. He loved the small mound of her belly. He kissed her flesh there then moved lower, dipping his fingers into the warm moisture in her center.
“Adam, please.”
She took his hard length in her hand and followed with her tongue, teasing him with quick licks and light touches.
He arched on the bed, thrusting up before he realized what he was doing. He pulled her away from his body, wanting to be inside her.
He pulled her up to his body until she straddled his hips. He fumbled for the condom, finding it a few feet from them, then ripping the packet open with one hand. He sheathed himself and then, using his grip on her hips, he pulled her down and slipped into her body. With one quick movement, he rolled them over to take command.
She arched her back, reaching up to entwine her arms around his shoulders. He thrust harder, slid deeper still into her, and felt every nerve in his body tense. Reaching between their bodies he touched her between her legs until he felt her body start to tighten around him.
He let himself go in a rush, continuing to thrust into her until his body was drained. He then collapsed on top of her, laying his head between her breasts.
A feeling of contentment started to wash over him. But Grace’s soft sigh and the emotions coursing through him made him tense. There was a wealth of caring in that sigh and in the arms that wrapped trustingly around him. How would she feel when she realized the man she’d honored with her body and let past her guard, the man who claimed to hold the truth in highest regard, had been lying to her?
Nine
“I need you, Grace.”
She took his jaw in her hands and pulled his face up to hers. His pupils were dilated, and between her legs she felt him, hot and hard.
“I need you, too.”
Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace
Grace rolled over, glancing at the clock. Three a.m. Too early for the alarm, but something had woken her. She shifted in the bed and encountered Adam. He was warm and solid. Real.
Her thighs ached and her breasts were tender from making love with him, but she didn’t mind. She liked the feeling being possessed by him left in her. She realized she’d forgotten about the scents and smells of sex when she’d written her story about Adam.
Adam moved in his sleep, rolling from his side to his back. She shifted up on her elbow and tried to see him in the darkened room. Tried to make out the features of this man who’d made her realize that she’d been half asleep until he’d come into her life a few weeks ago.
But she couldn’t. He didn’t snore and other than that movement he was a pretty solid sleeper. She rested one hand on his chest, lightly, just over his heart. She felt it beating under her palm. She wanted to lay her head on his chest, but didn’t want to wake him.
Didn’t want to have to endure him holding her until he thought she was asleep before he slipped away. Just the way Dean had the few nights they’d spent together. She’d only slept with him a few times, unable to bear having been so close physically to someone who didn’t want her to touch him unless they were having sex.
“Gracie?”
“Hmm?”
“What are you doing way over there?” he asked.
“Trying not to disturb you.”
He moved his arm, wrapping it around her waist and drew her next to him on the bed. Her breasts pressed to the side of his chest and her head came to rest on his shoulder. He tangled his hand in her hair, something she realized he did a lot. Wrapping his fingers in her curls, he tipped her head back.
“I like having you next to me.”
Sleepily he found her mouth with his and then gently guided her head down to his chest. His hand on her back swept up and down her spine as he anchored her to him.
Sex, she thought. It was okay, really it was.
“You smell and feel so good, Gracie. I’m almost afraid to wake up and find I dreamed you.” He tucked her even closer to his side.
No man had ever held her as closely as Adam held her now. She tried to tell herself not to read too much into the embrace but when he held her like this he felt solid, real. Like the very thing she’d been searching for.
When she’d written the story “Adam’s Mistress,” she’d focused on the physical details of what making love with him would be like. How it would feel to have his masculine attention turned on her.
She hadn’t let herself hope that some kind of caring or affection would be there on his side. She just wasn’t the kind of woman who inspired that in men. Her father had been the first one to teach her that lesson and Dean had followed it up. But Adam made her feel like she wasn’t the kind of woman that men left.
This spot on his chest, right over his heart, seemed to be made for her head. It was the perfect place for her to rest. His hand in her hair, caressing her, made her feel wanted in a way that nothing el
se had in a long time. No, she thought, she’d never felt wanted like this before.
She was afraid to believe that this thing with Adam could be more than just a short-term relationship. The complications she’d made for herself by lying here in his arms were too many to count.
But she didn’t care anymore. She’d gladly take on the challenge for more nights like this one.
She should sleep but couldn’t. Nighttime was always when she was plagued with doubts and fears of the future. Nighttime was when she remembered vividly the words her father had said to her in his quiet, preaching voice as she’d packed her bags and left his house at age sixteen.
Nighttime was the one time when she was truly alone with all the ghosts of her mistakes. And she’d never liked it.
Nighttime had also always been her time for dreaming—and for the past three years, those dreams had been of Adam Bowen.
Now he was here and she should be sleeping blissfully. But she couldn’t. What was it about her that could never just be happy? Never just be content with what she had? Why did she always want more?
And she did want more from Adam. As nice as this was, she wanted him to wake up and tell her…oh, man, this was pathetic. She’d only really known the man for a few weeks but she wanted him to be in love with her.
She wanted him to somehow realize what they could have together and be the embodiment of her fantasy Adam. The one she’d never been able to make commit to her on the pages she wrote. And the one she’d wanted to.
She turned away from Adam. Unable to lie there in the dark with her mind so full of those thoughts and her heart so full of longing that it felt like it might really break. And not because of anything that Adam did, but because of what she’d always wanted.
Adam followed her, his arms staying around her. She felt his mouth against her neck as he pulled her back against his body.
“What is it?” he asked.
She couldn’t think for a minute of what to say or do. She could only feel a bittersweet mixture of hope and realism as he held her. He was naturally affectionate and it was going to be so hard to keep herself from falling in love with him.
No sooner had the words formed in her mind than she realized it was already too late. That she did love Adam. She’d been half in love with him from the moment they’d met and getting to know the man behind the fantasy had left her vulnerable to herself.
“Gracie?”
She smiled at the way he said her name. She’d always been too serious to be a Gracie but somehow Adam saw her differently.
“Nothing’s wrong. Just a bad dream.”
Adam woke a little after six, surprised he’d slept so soundly. But then Grace seemed to calm the chaotic, restless part of his soul. That knowledge took him aback and made him want to analyze it. But he wasn’t good at looking for answers to emotional questions. That was why he’d spent so much time avoiding Plano and the school his family had started.
He remembered her waking in the middle of the night and knew that she probably wasn’t used to a man sleeping with her. He wasn’t really used to sleeping with a woman in his bed. But he always stayed the night even though he usually found it difficult to get a good night’s sleep. He was sensitive enough to know that no woman wanted a man she’d just had sex with to sneak out while she was sleeping, however much he wanted to go.
He didn’t want to with his Grace.
The morning sunlight spilled through the small cracks in the plantation blinds. The ones on the top of the window had been left open and the light was moving across the floor toward the bed.
He glanced down at Grace, aware that he wanted to make promises. Promises that the past had proven he couldn’t keep. Vowing to always be there to hold her in the darkest part of the night and keep her bad dreams at bay. Pledging that she’d never want for anything again. Assuring her and himself that the lonely restlessness that had always plagued him and, he suspected, her would never haunt either of them again.
But those were words he couldn’t form. No matter that it felt right to have Grace in his arms. To sleep in her embrace through the long night. He was afraid to let go of the past long enough to believe that this woman in his arms could be the future.
Because he knew that security was the ultimate illusion. His parents’ death had been the first time he realized that there was no such thing as a safety net. Learning the truth of his birth had confirmed it. And every relationship he’d had since then had simply reinforced those beliefs.
He hated that about himself. Knew that it stemmed from the darkest part of his own fears—fears that he usually only examined when he was out getting drunk with Stevie Taylor of Viper. The two of them questioned why money couldn’t buy happiness.
He looked down at Grace’s fragile features, her face soft and relaxed in slumber. All the money in his bank accounts didn’t mean a thing to her. He’d read her secret fantasies, he knew that as far as she was concerned it was the man who made the difference. Not his finances.
A part of him was soothed by that. The twenty-five-year-old guy who’d learned that the legacy he thought he’d been entitled to was a sham liked the fact that this woman wanted him, not the Bowen name.
Damn, he was getting maudlin. He closed his eyes, burying his face against the back of her neck, in those soft curls of hers that he couldn’t get enough of touching. She shifted in his arms, her backside brushing his morning erection, and he groaned deep inside. Wanting her again. After last night he should be well sated for at least 24 hours, but he knew with Grace nothing was the way it usually was.
He’d never get enough of caressing her soft curves. Of making love to her. He canted his hips forward, nestling himself in the curves of her buttocks. She shifted in his arms, rubbing her back against his chest, moving until they were pressed together from shoulder to thighs.
One of his hands was nestled between her breasts and he shifted it to cup her right one. He held her in his palm, forefinger caressing the soft weight of her. He liked the textures of her body.
He pushed the covers off them so he could see her. Her skin was smooth and creamy, her breasts topped with pretty dark pink nipples. His hand looked big and dark against her pale skin. He used his thumb and finger to caress her nipple until it hardened under his touch.
Her legs moved restlessly against him. He wedged his thigh between hers and felt her heat on his leg. He used his other hand to hold her to him low at her stomach, one finger snaking lower to caress the small bud at the center of her body.
“Adam…”
Her voice was sleepy and husky and he knew what she wanted. Knew that he’d brought her from sleep into a world of aching need. That suited him, because he ached for her. He needed her in ways that he hoped she’d never realize.
“Hmm…”
She rocked her hips against him until his erection was poised at the damp opening of her body. He wanted to thrust into her just like this. Forget about the future or the consequences of taking her totally naked.
But he knew better. He didn’t want Grace to have to confront an unwanted pregnancy. He shifted around on the bed, leaving her for a minute to get another condom out of the pocket of his pants.
He sheathed himself and came back to her. Pulled her back against him. She shifted around until she was where she’d been before, her right leg draped over his hip, her breast nestled in his hand.
“Look at me,” he said.
She tipped her head back against his shoulder, her eyes slumberous. He leaned down and took her mouth, thrust his tongue deep inside her. He guided himself to her opening, then plunged into her with one steady thrust. She gently nipped his tongue and thrust her own back into his mouth. He held her tightly to him as he slid hilt deep into her body before pulling all the way out. He dropped kisses down the side of her neck, biting lightly at the pulse that beat steadily at its base as he thrust back into her.
She rocked against him, tightening herself as he pulled out one more time. She drew his hand fro
m her hip down to the center of her body. He pushed his finger into the curls at her mound, finding the sensitive bundle of her nerves between her legs.
He rubbed her as he plunged back into her body again and again. He sucked hard on her neck, she moaned deeply and he felt her tighten. Knew what that sound signaled. He shifted her over onto her back, lifted her hips and thrust harder into her until the world coalesced around the woman in his arms and they climaxed together.
And he knew that the vows and promises he wanted to make had already been made as he held her like this, because he couldn’t imagine leaving her.
Grace had never made breakfast for any man other than her father. She’d pretty much avoided the meal since she didn’t like to eat it. But Adam was a big guy and he obviously needed to eat, so here she was in the kitchen staring into her refrigerator. Trying to pretend this morning was like any other when she was still trying to calm down from the last time they’d made love.
Her body still tingled. She couldn’t believe the way he’d held her. She forgot about trying not to fall for him. Forgot about not making this night—this relationship—into more than it was. Forgot that heartbreak was inevitable.
“What are you looking for?” Adam asked, coming up behind her. He wore only his slacks from last night. His hair was unruly.
“Something to make you for breakfast,” she said over her shoulder.
“Why?” he asked, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her back against him.
“Because…” She tipped her head back to look up at him. He leaned down and kissed her. Sipped at her mouth like she was all he’d need to find sustenance. She opened her mouth for him, knowing that she couldn’t possibly make love to him again but that her body was readying for him.
He arched one eyebrow at her. “You were saying?”
She had no idea what they’d been talking about…oh, yeah, breakfast. “You seem like the kind of man who’d want a hearty breakfast.”
He smiled down at her. “I have worked up an appetite this morning and I do like breakfast.”