“Grace.” He could say her name with a hundred different intonations. This one played across her skin like a breeze while his hand slid over her shirt to cup her breast. His tone was both request for permission and promise.
“Please.” She arched as his fingers found her nipple through the fabric and tugged. She wanted more, wanted him to twist and roll those needy nerves with nothing between them, but at least she could touch his chest and arms without obstruction. She could stroke the tattoo, feel it strain toward her. He was art in human form. When his skin moved and shifted with life, the tension in the planes of his muscles tightened her own needs, stretched her wants to the breaking point.
“Touch me.” Her plea ended with a moan as her hips searched to fill the aching need at their center.
She didn’t expect an answer, not a verbal one, but his breath caught, stopped for an instant, then he put more than words into his reply. He bunched her shirt across her breastbone and released the pressure of her bra. Her breasts, bared, felt doubled in size and sensitivity. Cool air didn’t slow the flush of sensation in her nipples because he immediately covered her breasts with his hands. His fingertips were rough, but he was gentle. Her need, his touch, their skin to skin, all combined into hunger.
They’d shifted until her knees cradled his hips. It felt so natural to squeeze the tight rise of his butt and urge his body deeper into the vee of hers. He wore smooth, loose shorts, and his hard cock was right there pushing at her as they humped with want and speed and force.
The urge to touch that steel took her hand to his fly. Near her ear, his panting grew louder. His fingers burned on her breasts and his lips scorched her neck until she thought she would explode from the inside out with the heat of his body and the sensations building in her core.
Then his mouth reached her breasts, and the only way she could respond was to rub harder and faster at the bulge under the fabric while he bucked. His weight pushed into her pelvis but didn’t crush the breath from her, even as his lips pulled harder and her need magnified. She shaped her hand around the stiff length and found the dampness coming through his shorts. Faster, harder, as he suckled her breast and pushed her so close to the fall that she must have squeezed too firmly, because he froze and groaned above her.
She opened her eyes. His head reared back, lips pulled from his teeth, and the skin stretched tight across his red-stained cheekbones.
Then he rolled away, leaving her empty and chilled.
His spine curved like a turtle shell, but she knew better than to askso, did you just…or reach under the sheets to check. Even though his musk surrounded her and her skin tingled with the burn of his morning beard, this real-life moment left her clueless.
“Epic fail.” Bitterness rode his words.
Obviously he referred to his performance, but he’d labeled the hottest kiss she’d ever had a failure. “Thanks for the compliment.”
“Not you.” He flung his arm over his forehead like he was hiding.
“Not you either, so snap out of it.” Although she ached with incompletion, she adjusted her bra and shirt and stood. “We have to drive across Tennessee. I’ll check out while you…” sheconfirmed that his cane and legs were propped beside the bed, “…get moving.”
He finally looked at her. His hair was mussed, whether by her hands or by sleeping didn’t matter, because it added to his bad boy appeal. “Sorry.”
“I have no idea what you’re apologizing for.” This was the type of moment where flirty women tossed their hair or stuck their nose in the air, so she gave both a try. He looked like he needed a good laugh, and she had to restore her own equilibrium. “If it was kissing me, then don’t. Apologize, that is.”
“Pretty mad.”
“Yes, I suppose I am pretty mad.” She crossed her arms and stared at him. “I’m tired of you beating yourself up.”
An almost loopy look crossed his face as his eyes fell to her chest. “Prettywhenmad.”
“And you’re quite articulate when you want to tease me, aren’t you.” She grabbed her purse as much to hide the glow his compliment gave her as to find her wallet. The room was feeling too small and close for her to continue the discussion. “I’ll return with coffee.”
Chapter 15
Tennessee
East of Knoxville, Gracenoticed that the gas needle had dropped to the quarter mark at the same time her phone dinged with an incoming text.
Before she could even glance away from the highway, Rey said, “From me.”
“Thought you were working on a novel over there, and it was just a text to me?” She moved into the exit lane because now she really wanted to read his message.
He snorted. So things were a little easier than they had been after this morning.
She parked at some generic gas station, and he went in for coffee while she filled the tank. The wait gave her time to read his text.
Rey
About this morning. Almost glad I can’t talk, but I should explain. Some vital bits have been AWOL, but I can’t take geezer meds b/c pulmonary embolism risk. They said the problem’s common, not permanent, and PT had therapy for it (let’s seriously not discuss that) but nothing helped. Pretty happy this morning when all signs pointed go but hate to admit I missed the target. I screwed up, but you made it OK. There are probably better words, but this is a sufficiently awkward cluster already.
He must have worried she didn’t understand, because there was a brief second message.
