13
Eric
I could admit that it was a lot when Grace unloaded everything on me all at once. But, whether it was because I’d had a great day otherwise, or because I was so into her that it didn’t matter, I simply listened to the parts that I wanted to hear, and disregarded the rest; most of it didn’t matter anyway. Besides, I had lied to her too, hadn’t I? I studied Grace as she spoke, waiting for my opportunity to tell her that none of it really mattered, but the truth was, I was really enjoying watching her squirm.
She had been caught in a lie—which was a situation that people found themselves in every day, but rather than tell more lies to climb her way out of it, I was confident that everything she dumped in my lap was the truth. So all that was left, then, was for me to decide how to respond to it. And I decided quickly that I would respond to her truth with my own. The fact was, I had wanted to kiss Grace Silver since the day that I met her, and there was no point now in pretending like that wasn’t the case.
“I just needed a way to see you again,” I told her. In my line of work, I don’t get to be earnest that often—people in business see it as a sign of weakness—so I relished the opportunity to say exactly what was on my mind and simply wait for a reaction.
I was prepared for almost any reaction she could have had to my words. What I was not prepared for was the possibility that she would have no reaction at all. I watched her face for what seemed like an eternity, and hoped for the best, but nothing happened. The clock on the wall, over the door where I had entered, ticked down the minutes, and still, I was left wanting. I considered leaving. I considered apologizing (even though I wasn’t sure what I needed to apologize for). I even considered searching her apartment for something smelly that I could stick in her face to bring her back to reality. But, ultimately, I resigned myself to sitting there beside her until she said something. I didn’t even care how long that would take. I just felt like moving from that spot would have been the wrong choice, and so I didn’t. I couldn’t tell how much time had passed before I was rewarded for my efforts; it could have just as easily been three minutes as three hours. I was just relieved to see that she was still alive.
“Say it again,” she ordered, and I obeyed. I could see the wheels turning in her beautiful head, though I had no idea how she would have so much trouble with the idea that I liked her. I had to imagine that men confessed their love for her often; she must have been used to the attention.
When she responded again, it wasn’t with her words. She leaned in close, putting her hands on either side of my face, and pressing her lips against mine in a long embrace. When she tried to pull away again, I didn’t let her, instead tangling my fingers through her auburn curls to hold her into place, so I could kiss her more forcefully, allowing my tongue to find its way to hers in a teasing rhythmic dance.
Everything that I had held back from her all those years ago bubbled to the surface now, threatening to overtake me. I didn’t want to put pressure on Grace, or make this into something that it wasn’t, but for me, it felt as if everything that was about to happen between us had been building up for a very long time. The inevitability of it made it easy and completely natural to stop overthinking, and let feeling take over. Her hair was so soft. Her lips yielded so perfectly, and just as I’d hoped, her hands had begun to explore. My self-control dissolved into practically nothing.
She was still wearing the sexy suit she had worn to my condo. I grabbed at the lapels of her jacket, and quickly, urgently peeled it back from her shoulders to reveal her red, lace blouse. She looked up at me and didn’t pull away when I leaned down to kiss her neck. Instead, she shivered against me, threading her hands through my hair and pulling me closer like she wanted me back. That was all the invitation I needed.
I pulled her closer and slanted my mouth over hers to kiss her more deeply than before, letting my hands explore every inch of skin I could access. Grace did the same, making quick work of my jacket and tie before starting on my shirt buttons. When I finally pulled her pencil skirt up at the hem to stroke her soft thighs and find the wet heat between her legs, I prayed she wouldn’t pull away and ask me to stop; in all honesty, I wasn’t sure I could.
Somehow, we stumbled our way awkwardly to Grace’s bedroom. She led the way, undressing me without breaking our embrace. A trail of clothes littered the floor from the office desk to the bedroom, and by the time we arrived at her queen-sized bed, we were wearing only underwear.
The room was dimly lit, and quiet, save for the sounds of traffic rising up from the street below. Next to her bed, Grace sank to the ground in front of me. I don’t think any woman had ever looked as sexy as she did right then, staring up at me from her knees and licking her full, pouty lips. I didn’t want to rush her, and tried my best to keep my hands off the back of her head as she pulled down my boxers and sucked me eagerly, but ultimately, I needed to slide more deeply into her throat, and my passion won out an I pressed myself as far into her mouth as I could go.
From her mischievous expression, I could tell that Grace was satisfied with my reaction to her skilled performance. Openmouthed and panting, I had to steady myself on her bedpost, lest my legs buckle under the power of the pleasure I was receiving. Her mouth was so exquisitely hot and soft, I knew I’d be completely overcome if I let her continue, and there was no way I was going to finish before I made her feel as incredible I did in that moment.
I pulled her away with the last bit of restraint I could muster, before lifting her to her feet, and throwing her on the bed face first. She let out a little squeal when she landed, pulling herself to her knees, and obligingly removing her lace panties so that I could stroke between her thighs with my eager fingers, testing her readiness and reactions. In response, she eagerly worked her legs apart wider and went down to her forearms to bare herself to me fully.
I hesitated, reaching for my pants to locate the condom that I usually kept in my wallet, and Grace turned to see what I was doing.
“It’s ok,” she said breathily, “I’m on the pill.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. I was always prepared, of course, but I had never particularly enjoyed wearing condoms, and I definitely didn’t want anything to prevent me from feeling every inch of her hot, wet core.
Grace moaned softly when I pressed into her, rocking her hips back toward me to force me more deeply into her. I realized that she needed this as much as I did. As conscious thought retreated and something much more primitive took its place in my brain, I committed myself to giving it to her.
I thrust into her aggressively, burying my right hand in her hair and pulling back tightly, while grasping her waist with my left to force her back onto me rhythmically. Grace made small musical sounds as I moved inside her, grinding back into me with an identical intensity.
Together, we forgave all of the deceit and torment and longing that had come before that moment, and inhabited the pure, primal feeling that we had created. Our bodies worked together like they were made for nothing but each other’s pleasure. I could feel the heat and release of my climax only seconds away, but I knew that Grace needed more from me, and I was determined to give her everything.
I slowed my movements behind her, pulling her by the shoulders to a more upright position and sending my hands to explore her warm, perfectly soft ivory skin. I pinched her nipples hard, until they formed stiff, tight little peaks, and then rubbed that magical space between her thighs, all while continuing to penetrate her from behind. Her head rolled back against my shoulder in pleasure, her mouth agape with need.
“Harder,” she begged breathily, and I complied, pressing more forcefully with my thumb.
I kept my hand stroking between her legs and pushed her into the mattress to drive into her as hard as I possibly could. She took it all eagerly, dissolving into her climax just a few thrusts later, and I followed almost immediately with a gasp.
When she collapsed a moment later onto the bed, I crawled in behind her and she eased her b
ackside up against me in a spooning position. We breathed together for an indeterminate amount of time, wordlessly basking in the afterglow.
“I think you were made for me,” I mumbled into her soft, sweet-smelling hair after a long moment.
And that is how I ruined everything.
14
Grace
What do you do when your fantasy is everything you ever imagined, and then some? I was prepared for sex with Eric to be mediocre, or even pretty good, but I was completely unprepared for it to be incredible. And though I was still able to pretend that it was just a fantasy for a few moments after it was over, his words brought me back to reality, reminding me that this was Eric Sorenson in my bed—a player if there ever was one—and even though he was so full of smooth lines like “you were made for me,” and oh so good with his very strong hands, I needed to remember that this was a one-time thing. After all, Eric Sorenson was never seen with the same woman twice.
I climbed out of bed, and immediately set to work putting clothes back on my body, and locating Eric’s so that he could do the same. There was no way I was going to be the girl that expected cuddles from Eric Sorenson so that he could go back and laugh about it with his friends. Even though I had thoroughly enjoyed every moment of what had just transpired between the two of us, there was no way that I could ever let him know that. It was a one-time thing, and hardly worth mentioning in the context of sexual conquests. Tomorrow, we’d both blame it on the alcohol, and he’d probably forget my name.
I tried to ignore the fact that he was watching me get dressed. The expression on his face as he watched me move about the room was unnerving, and made me feel like a snack that he had just enjoyed and wanted all over again. I didn’t know how to handle that, and I certainly didn’t know how to interpret it. All I knew was that he wasn’t making any motion to leave.
“Are you ok?” he said finally, using the kind of voice that one usually reserves for children and scared animals.
“I’m fine,” I answered abruptly, annoyed at his tone. “I just have a lot to do today still.”
He nodded and sat up, though I’m not sure if it was because he believed my performance, or merely because I was making him uncomfortable. I’d take what I could get, obviously; I just needed to be alone.
Needless to say, I wasn’t fine. I was overwhelmed with intense feelings that I didn’t know how to handle, and an overwhelming sense of dread. I’d had casual sex before, but for some reason—maybe because I’d been wanting him for so long—it felt different with Eric.
“You’re not fine,” he said, buttoning his shirt over those chiseled abs that had just been pressed against me not that long ago. “You’re freaking out.” He reached out and grabbed my wrist then, forcing me to stop trying to clean up the room. I had been unconsciously trying to make it look like he’d never been there, but it was all in vain—the smell of his cologne permeated the sheets; I could still feel him inside me, exploring my depths. He pulled me onto his lap in one swift motion, and I almost stumbled onto him, losing my balance completely, but he steadied me with his other hand on my waist, and I resigned myself to the idea that he was in control of the situation.
Once I was safely seated on his thigh, Eric began kissing me again. Only this time, his kisses weren’t urgent and full of need, but gentle and caring. He planted a row of light kisses, one after the other, along my jawline and to my collarbone. Each fresh kiss sent tingles to my spine and made my cheeks flush with anticipation for the next. I wanted him all over again, and that feeling alone was enough to stoke my need to run, but he held me firmly in place; there was nowhere to go, and there was nothing to do but enjoy the attention that he was lavishing onto some of the most sensitive parts of my skin.
“I like you,” he whispered in my ear. His lips were so close that the heat of his words warmed my earlobes, and melted the last parts of me that had not yet capitulated to his control. “I have liked you for a very, very long time.”
“You don’t even know me,” I said dismissively. But there was no conviction behind my words, and we both knew that they were only a test.
“I know enough to know that I want to know more,” he countered, punctuating his words with another gentle kiss on my lips.
Resistance was futile; we both knew that he had won over even the most adamantly independent parts of me, and for me to pretend otherwise was foolish at this point. So I accepted his kisses eagerly, leaning into him to take it more deeply and wordlessly let him know that I was his for the taking.
Eric’s hands tangled into my hair as I shifted my body to straddle him on the bed. Even though we were both back in our underwear, I could feel his need pressing into me, begging for entrance all over again. I couldn’t help but be impressed that he was so eager and ready to go again so quickly after his previous performance. I grinded myself against him, enjoying the friction on my clit, and getting myself worked up for round two, when there was a pounding at the door.
Abruptly, I was pulled out of the moment, and swung my leg around to climb off of Eric’s lap. I had never moved so quickly, throwing clothes on over my underwear without caring what they looked like, just wanting to cover my skin as efficiently as I could. It might be a client, I considered.
“Stay here,” I said to Eric urgently. “Do not come out.” I shot him a serious look, and he nodded, sitting up to quickly kiss me once more before I left the confines of the bedroom. I closed the door behind me before heading to the office to answer the front door.
The pounding continued, rattling the glass and managing to irritate me even more than the interruption already had. It struck me that the door wasn’t even locked. Whoever was on the other side of that door could have easily walked in and caught me in a very compromising position—just as Eric had walked in and surprised me when I’d been sitting there with Lana. I was grateful that they hadn’t, but not grateful enough to not be extremely perturbed when I swung the door open and found Charles Fields standing there, red-faced and covered in sweat.
“Mr. Fields?” I demanded as he pushed his way past me into the room. He was wild-eyed and pacing like someone who had completely lost his grip on reality.
“She’s fucking him,” he announced, loudly enough for my neighbors to hear. I shut the door quickly to try to confine the noise to my office, then made a beeline for the back of my desk, hoping that it would provide a substantial barrier between Mr. Fields and myself.
I was not a marriage counselor, but I had a sneaking suspicion that the Fields were destined for divorce court.
“Mr. Fields,” I began, sinking into my seat uncomfortably, “I have followed your wife around for three days. I have seen no evidence that she is sleeping with anyone.”
“Why aren’t you there now?” he demanded. “Sorenson might be giving it to her right this moment, and you’re just sitting here.”
It was all I could do not to laugh. Given that the man in question was literally sitting on my bed half-naked at that very moment, I was reasonably certain that he was not “giving it” to a forty-something CFO downtown.
“Francine is at work, Charles,” I explained calmly. He seemed completely unhinged, and I was afraid of saying anything that was going to set him off. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him that Eric was in my bed right then. And I definitely didn’t want to tell him that the man had an incredible body that could probably make any woman explode like a teakettle. But I thought about it. And the thought made that familiar need form in the pit of my stomach, and brought a smile to my face that was difficult to hide from my client.
“How do you know that?” he asked. I had to think quickly to come up with an answer.
“I followed her there,” I lied. When he didn’t respond, I added, “Your wife is a busy woman; she doesn’t have time for an affair.”
Every word out of my mouth seemed to make him angrier; I was getting nowhere. “You know what?” he said finally. “You’re right.” I should have been relieved at his words, but t
he tone of his voice, which was growing louder by the second, offered me no comfort. “You’re fired!” he yelled, in some half-baked attempt at seizing the power in the room. I might have been frustrated by this turn; after all, getting fired sucked. But it was probably for the best. Charles Fields had clearly lost control of his emotions, and I didn’t want to be around for the fallout. He turned and stomped out of the room just in time to miss Eric emerging from my bedroom. But before he slammed the door, he added, “I’ll handle this myself,” in a tone that sent a chill up my spine. We looked at each other with hopeless expressions. The moment of our passion, however powerful it had seemed before the intrusion, was definitely gone.
15
Eric
I am not usually a coward.
But the look that I received from Grace, before she answered the rattling door to her office, instilled enough fear in me to glue me to my place on the bed. In one look, she let me know that while she might have let me take control between the sheets, she was in control the moment we stepped out of that room. It was hot.
I tried not to eavesdrop on her conversation—for all I knew about her, it may have been an ex-boyfriend trying to worm his way back into her life, and there was no way that I wanted to be that guy who would stand in her way. But her apartment had excessively thin walls, and the man who had interrupted our moment hadn’t exactly been quiet, so there I was, forced to listen to a conversation about…of all things, my affair with Francine Fields.
The idea that I would sleep with a woman like Francine was presumptive, to say the least. We had known each other a long time, and she was a nice woman, but she was more than twenty years older than me, and if that weren’t bad enough, she was friends with my mother. I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of the two of us together—we were an unlikely pair, to be sure.
That is not to say I hadn’t fantasized about the prospect before. When I was a teenager, and Francine would come over to our house with a bunch of my mother’s friends, she had definitely been the hottest of them—with curves that would have made any hormonal teenage boy do a double-take. I didn’t know how long she’d been married to that sweaty mess that had just been yelling at Grace, but if Francine had offered herself to me about ten years ago, I would have jumped at the chance to oblige her. These days, though, she was one of a small handful of women that I really respected. And until about an hour ago, I’d been convinced that fucking a woman and respecting her were two mutually exclusive propositions. So, needless to say, it wouldn’t have happened.
Keeping Her Safe: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance Page 7
