“We’ll talk about it when the time comes.” I try to shrug off the topic because I can’t handle anything else heavy today.
“I want you to do something for me.” He stands and holds his palm facing up.
I stare at his hand—the strength there. “What?” I rise, allowing our fingers to thread together.
“I want you to scream.”
“Come again?” I rub my chest with my free hand as if I haven’t heard him right.
“I want you to let it out. The anger, the pain. Let it all out.”
“What?” I step back, trying to pull my hand from his, but he only tightens his grip—he won’t let me go.
Don’t ever let me go.
“Scream, Grace. It’ll help.” He nods. “Just scream.”
Is he kidding? I can’t—I just can’t.
I shut my eyes, and now that he’s holding both of my hands, I go back to Athens in my head. I wade through my nightmares. This time I don’t get hurt by the man—this time I fight back.
I hit the son of a bitch.
His head jerks back.
I kick him.
Again.
And again.
And then I scream.
A blood-curdling scream. Louder. And louder until my voice is raw and there’s barely anything left.
Noah’s arms are locked around my body, holding me against his chest as I try to catch my breath. I’m not crying, though.
I feel…strong. Powerful.
I feel better.
After a few minutes, I pull out of his arms and look at him. “How’d you know that would help?”
He presses the pad of his thumb to my cheek and runs it down to my jawline. “When we’d lose someone—a team member—it helped to yell.” His eyes flash shut, and there’s a tightness to his face. “Sometimes I still scream. After each of my tattoos—I fucking let go. Otherwise, the pain will rip me apart. I can’t let the assholes win.” Noah opens his eyes, and they’re a little red.
I can’t imagine what this man has gone through.
“You’re stronger than you realize,” he says.
“With you I am,” I whisper.
He shakes his head and points at my heart. “It’s all you.” He cups my face. “All you…”
I lean into his palm and close my eyes, giving in to the warmth of his touch, the safety of being near him.
“It’s going to storm tonight.”
“I know.” I tilt my chin up and open my eyes. He’s looking at me with parted lips. Lips I want on my mouth. I don’t want this day to end with thoughts of Greece. I want it to end with Noah inside me.
“Do you want to stay?” His hand brushes over my bicep.
“Would that be okay?”
His chest moves up as he inhales a lungful of air, his eyes darkening—desire evident. He exhales and nods. I press up on my toes as he bows his head so our lips touch.
“More than okay,” he says against my mouth.
18
Noah
“You’re no longer on the approved visitors’ list. I’m sorry, Mr. Dalton.”
It’s Sunday. My day. She said to wait until we meet with the lawyers, but I’m sick of her rules.
I call Cindy.
No answer.
I text her and call again.
Nothing.
“Check one more time.” I fold my arms, eyeing the security guard who looks as though he’s still in high school. Slicked back blond hair, dark blue eyes, and a tall, lanky body. How is this guy going to stop an intruder from coming into the building? How safe is my daughter here?
The kid goes back to the computer behind the desk and taps at the keys. “Sorry.”
I’m tempted to just walk around him, but the last thing I need is the cops coming and Cindy using that as ammunition against me. I shake my head and leave the lobby. I start to text Cindy again, but a message from her pops up on my phone.
I’ll see you at the law office on Tuesday.
Sarah still doesn’t think Cindy has a case, but she did recommend I sell the boat and try to get an apartment as soon as possible.
I may not need to sell right away, though, now that Bella and I have the investment from Luke and Jessica. Plus, we’ll be able to take on more jobs since we’ve finally hired some people to work with us. I just need to find a place to live. I’ve been checking ads almost every hour, trying to find something affordable and move-in ready.
I tap out an angry response.
You can’t keep me from my daughter. You’re making a mistake.
But I delete the message and lean against the apartment building. She might interpret my text as a threat. I need to play it smart.
I stow my phone and resist the temptation to text back at all. It’s what she wants.
Since I won’t be seeing Lily today, I should spend it looking for apartments. Maybe Grace wouldn’t mind tagging along? She didn’t go to work the rest of last week, and since she didn’t want to interfere with the remodel, she’s staying at a hotel.
My job is done, and now it’s up to Bella to style it up—or do whatever she does. The design part isn’t my area of expertise. Bella’s shooting for Wednesday as the big reveal day, which means Grace has another three nights in the hotel.
I’ve been staying with Grace, though. She said she was okay being in the hotel room alone, but I could tell it made her nervous. When I offered to stay with her, she agreed—as long as I promised copious amounts of orgasms.
I wasn’t about to say no to that.
We’ve spent the last several nights together. She’s been keeping up with work from the hotel during the day while I wrapped up construction at her place.
It’ll feel a little strange taking money from Grace when this is all done. I’ll let Bella handle the finances.
My phone rings as I leave the apartment building, but it’s not Cindy.
“What’s up?” I answer.
“Are you ready for Tuesday?” Bella asks.
I finally told her about Cindy’s insane attempts at full custody. I’ll need her to testify on my behalf as a character witness. My parents might even need to fly up. I hate putting them in the middle of this, but once I tell them what Cindy’s trying to do, I might have to hold my mom back from attacking Cindy.
“Yeah. I guess I am.”
“Do you need anything from me?”
I shake my head as if she can see me. I’m in no mood to talk about Cindy. “No, not right now. Um, how are things going at Grace’s?”
Bella spent the weekend decorating Grace’s place to try to get things done quicker. “Good. I opened her storage closet outside the living room—seeing if she had anything I could use, you know, personal touches. And—”
“Shit, did you ask first?” Talk about a violation of privacy.
“No, but she has all of these instruments! I had no idea she loved music—and now I think I might want to change my design plan and make her place a little more artsy. You know, musical. What do you think?”
“I think you should have stayed out of her closet.” I huff. “But now that you’ve already gone in there, I’d like to take a look.”
“Why?”
“Just let me worry about it.” I take a left and cross the street, heading to Grace’s loft instead of the hotel.
I have an idea I can’t get out of my head now, and it’s got me lit on fire.
“Keep your eyes closed.”
We’re standing outside the hotel room, and I can tell Grace is peeking.
“You’re bad at following instructions, but I came prepared just in case.” I have two ties. One I’ll use at the lawyer’s office tomorrow, and this navy one I have rolled and hidden in my fist. “Put this on.”
She opens one eye then the other. “A tie?” She chuckles. “Getting kinky on me, huh? When you kicked me out of the hotel room two hours ago, I didn’t expect I’d come back to this.”
I tip my chin up as I raise the tie between us, urging her to take it.
“Good.” I swipe the key in front of the electronic pad by the door, and it clicks and unlocks. “Can you see anything?” I ask while guiding her inside.
“No.”
I’ve never done something like this before. But being with Grace is exciting and different—and I keep wanting more and more.
More of her.
The hotel is a suite. It has a living area, kitchen, and one large bedroom and bathroom. I take her into the bedroom and pause in the doorframe. I scan the room, making sure everything is how I want it. “You ready?”
“Are you?” She smiles, and I kind of want to keep her blindfolded as I explore every inch of her body.
Maybe later…
My fingers go to the knot, and I hesitate, suddenly on edge. Am I crossing the line?
But fuck, it’s too late.
“Open your eyes,” I say once the tie drops to the floor.
She slowly peels her eyes open as if she’s afraid of what she might see.
A few candles are lit on each side of the bed and on the dresser. I didn’t want to overdo it and set off the alarms. And although I’m not the rose-petals-on-the-bed kind of guy, I did place one long-stem red rose—without thorns—on her pillow.
But that’s not where her eyes go.
She’s looking at the chair by the window, a cello displayed next to it, the bow on the seat.
Her gaze darts to my face as her mouth opens—but no sound comes out.
“It’s yours…obviously.”
“I know.” Her brows pinch together. “What’s it doing here?”
She leaves my side and goes to it. Her fingers feather the polished wood, which I shined up, then she reaches for the bow.
“I want you to play for me. Put on a show for me only.” I smile—she still isn’t. And I’m worried I made a mistake. “Next time you can perform for a larger crowd.”
She sets the bow back on the chair and angles her head, studying me. “Why would you do this? Why would you think I’d want to?”
“It was your dream to play, right? I’d have you sing for me, but you’ve warned me about your voice, so…” I tuck my hands in my jeans pockets.
“That’s an old dream.” She glances at the cello.
“I didn’t know dreams expired.” I want to go to her, but she seems guarded. I need her to come to me when she’s ready.
“What if I don’t remember how?” Her eyes are back on me, and there’s a slight change in the way she stands now. She’s less tense, more relaxed. She’s warming up to the idea.
“It’s just me. You only have to impress me.” I untuck my hands and step in front of her. “And just so you know, you already impressed me a long time ago.”
She rolls her tongue over her teeth and wets her lips. “This is crazy.”
“Everything about us is crazy.” There’s a hell of a lot of meaning embedded in that sentence, but I can’t dissect it right now. I just need this. This moment with her. I need this moment for us—in case we eventually run out of tomorrows.
It’s how I lived as a SEAL. Today is what matters. Fight and make it through the “todays” because living that way means there will always be a tomorrow. But I don’t know if Grace will always be in my life. I can’t compare our relationship to being in the Navy.
Shit, I gotta stop thinking about all of this right now.
“Play for me,” I say, cutting off my annoying thoughts. Fuck my brain. I just want her to play for me.
“Okay.” She smiles and drops her purse on the floor then reaches for the bow.
“Okay,” I murmur as triumph moves through me. I take a seat on the bed and watch as she examines the cello. “I want you to play naked.”
She laughs. “You’re joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
She assesses me, her eyes roving over my body. Can she tell my dick is already saluting her?
“Naked,” she repeats and scrunches her brow.
She moves slowly toward me, and her eyes never leave mine as she reaches for her hip and unzips the skirt she wore to work today—her first time back at the office in a week. She lets it fall. She’s wearing black thigh-highs with black heels and a matching lace thong.
Her breath hitches as she touches the hem of that little strap of material between her thighs—aka underwear—and slowly slides it down and kicks it off.
Then she unbuttons her blouse, opens it, and tosses it to the floor.
Her strapless bra comes off next.
The woman is a goddess standing before me in only her thigh-highs and heels, and my hands turn to fists as I work at controlling my desire to pull her onto my lap.
“On or off?” she asks as her fingers glide down over her smooth V to the top of her black hose.
“On.” I swallow, my heart racing, my body tensing, ready to go.
She eyes me playfully and cups her breasts before squeezing them. She’s deliberately torturing me, and payback is going to be a bitch later.
I think about the tie.
She turns away, her tight golden ass on display.
Once seated, she stands the large instrument between her legs—and damned if I’m not jealous of the cello right now. She places the bow against the strings, her eyes closed, then begins to play. It takes her a minute to get into the groove, but when she does—it’s beautiful.
And then she opens her eyes, capturing mine.
She’s playing for me. To me.
Each time her bow swipes back and forth and her fingers almost dance against the strings, it gets to me.
Even though she’s basically naked, all I find myself looking at is her eyes. The depth of those eyes—like crystals—sucks me in, taking hold of me, and eventually, I rise to my feet and go to her.
I stop a foot away, and she drops the bow, allowing it to fall to the floor. She takes in a deep breath, stands, and sets the cello back in its place. Before she’s even turned around, I reach for her hips and pull her back against my chest. She looks at me over her shoulder, and I kiss her as my fingertips almost dig into her flesh. My need is unbearable.
The want for her is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
She breaks the kiss and holds my outer thighs as she grinds her ass against me. Her head rests on my shoulder, offering her neck to me—and I inhale her soft jasmine scent before moving my mouth to her ear.
My hands slide over her hip bones and to her center before drifting up to her stomach, and I pull her even tighter against me. “That was amazing, Grace.”
“Mm. ‘Amazing Grace.’ I know how to play that song,” she murmurs.
“After,” I say, my impatience, my need for her, too strong.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t want to wait any longer.” She shifts out of my grasp and faces me, her hands darting to my chest.
“I don’t think I can wait another minute.” I pull her lip between my teeth and suck on it.
Her hand goes to my jeans, and she works at the button, taking a step away from me to do so. “Then don’t wait.”
I watch her shove down my jeans and boxers. She frees my cock, holding it tight in her hand. She starts to sink to her knees, but I place my hands beneath her arms and guide her back to her feet.
“No. Tonight is about you.”
“But you always make it about me.” She pouts. “When will you let me spoil you?”
“Tomorrow,” I say, but the word almost feels final, as though it will be our last time. I shove the thought from my mind. “Get comfortable on the bed.” I look down at her heels. “Keep them on.”
She moves for the rose and lies down, setting it in the center of her chest between her breasts. My gaze roves over every inch of her as I take off my shirt and finish undressing. She rubs the tip of her heel against her inner calf while resting a hand above her head. She looks so casual. So stunning.
And right now, she’s all mine.
The b
ed sinks a little as I join her, and I brace myself on top of her, one hand on each side of her body.
Her chest rises as she takes a deep breath, holding my gaze. Her brows slant and her lips part. “This is something more, isn’t it?”
I absorb her words. I allow them to sink deep inside me as I process what she’s said.
Last week I would have said it can’t be—because I didn’t know if I could ever be with anyone again after what Cindy did to me. But saying that now would be a lie.
I brush a strand of hair off her face and nod. “Yes, it is.”
The rose smashes between our bodies as I lower myself, feeling my cock pressed against her. I take her mouth, my tongue slipping between her lips as she shifts her hips up with need—the need for me to be inside her.
And I want it too. God, do I ever.
I keep kissing her, careful not to allow too much of my weight to crush her…but I can’t tear my mouth from hers. Her fingertips grip my shoulders then slide down to my biceps, where she squeezes the muscle. But the rotation of her pussy against my cock is making me lose my goddamn mind.
I pull up. “Grace?”
“Yeah?” She tilts her head up.
“I want to take my time with you, but if you keep moving like that, I’m not going to be able to wait.”
“That’s the idea. I don’t want you to wait. I need you now. Right now.” She slides her hands between our flesh and takes me into her hands, wrapping tight around my shaft.
She guides my tip to her center, and all I can do is look her in the eyes. I want to see the expression on her face when I fill her. She eases me in, and I slowly thrust until her pelvic bone meets mine. Her head goes back to the pillow, her eyes closing.
The feel of her…with nothing between us…I won’t last long.
She hooks her legs around me as I shift up a little, and her silk thigh-highs rub against me, offering even more sensations. I run a hand over her breast and pinch her nipple, and she takes quick breaths. Her sex is clenching me—she’s tightening, her body preparing…
“Fuck!” She grabs the sheets, her body jerking hard and fast.
Her loss of control has me close.
Someone Like You Page 18
