“Anyway,” Grant explained, “real married people sleep in the same bedroom, and their kids sleep in their own bedroom. We have to make it look good. The mean lady has a view of our bedroom window, I’m afraid.”
Jeffrey reluctantly let them go. As they walked off, Celeste heard him saying to Mandy, “When they leave me tonight, I guess you’ll be my new mom. But when you leave me, who will be my mom then?”
Celeste thought she’d choke. “I am not leaving you!” she called out to him. “And neither is Grant!”
“Nobody is leaving you,” Mandy said. “If you want, I’ll sleep in your room. There’s a couch in there.”
Celeste let out a long, shuddering breath as they walked to their room. “This is all so messed up,” she said. “Everything that he’s been through. Us lying to him. Should I go back and sleep in his room tonight?”
He sighed. “That lady really is spying on us. At the very least we need to stand in front of the bedroom window and let her see us. Then we can pull the shades, and you can sneak downstairs if you want. At some point he has to get used to sleeping on his own.”
“I know.”
They turned on a lamp in their bedroom and stood in front of the window, facing each other.
“What should we do now?” she asked.
“Well, I could kiss you.”
Celeste tipped her head back up to look into his gorgeous face. “Eww, gross. Boy cooties.”
“I know.” Grant rolled his eyes with an exaggerated comic look. “Kissing a girl. Nasty. We’ll just do it long enough to convince her that we’re legit. We’ll do it for Jeffrey.”
Well, if it was for Jeffrey…
Her heart stuttered in her chest as Grant leaned in and she closed her eyes and just let herselffeel. He pressed his lips against hers, firmly and sweetly, and she melted into his embrace. Of their own accord, her hands came up and she wound her fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.
When his hand wandered down her spine to cup her derriere, she gasped and pressed closer against him, and he took advantage of her parted lips to slide his tongue against hers with sinful skill.
His hands slid under her clothes.
“For our son,” he murmured into her ear, and she was too distracted to argue with him. Or maybe she didn’t want to.Jeffrey, Grant, people who cared about her, a family to wake up to every morning… Maybe there was a part of her that wished this fairytale were her real life.
Chapter Eight
She moaned when he pulled back, then gasped when he swung her into his arms. Anyone watching would be in doubt about what he intended to do to her as he strode towards the bed and deposited her on the covers, then started to unbutton his shirt. Delicious anticipation pulsed between her thighs, and her nipples were tight, aching beads against the fabric of her bra.
Grant dropped onto the bed and crawled towards her, shirtless, the denim of his jeans moulded intimately against his muscular thighs and the taut curve of his ass. He was breathtaking. She couldn’t resist reaching out to touch him, smoothing her palms over his shoulders and down his chest, enjoying the rough feel of his scattering of chest hair against her fingertips.
He growled low in his throat, a feral sound that made the hair prickle on the back of her neck, not from fear but from arousal. Then he dove in for a kiss that had her toes curling as he pressed her back on the bed. His skin was hot and satin-smooth over hard muscle. His lips were firm and sweet against hers, and he slid his tongue against hers in a seductive rhythm that made her think about what it would feel like to have his cock inside her. Made her ache for it.
Unconsciously, she parted her thighs, and he settled between them, rolling his hips to press his erection against her molten core. Her pussy clenched hungrily and she moaned into his mouth as he worked his tongue against hers, mimicking the motion of fucking, giving her a taste of what was to come.
“You are so damn beautiful,” he growled into her ear, and he flicked his tongue over the end of the scar that touched the side of her mouth, and she knew shewasbeautiful to him, the scar that she had always been so self-conscious about a mark of bravery, of resilience.
He moved down her body, unbuttoning her blouse as he went, trailing kisses down her throat, over her collarbone and down her sternum. He drew her nipple into his mouth through the fabric of her bra, sucking on it until the satin was soaked and every sensual stroke of his tongue sent a bolt of lust directly to her core. She moaned and wriggled against him, then caught her breath as he yanked her into a sitting position so he could peel off her blouse and bra. Then he popped open the button on her fly and drew her pants and panties down her legs. She wriggled to help him, then kicked them off as he drew them over her feet.
She shrieked a surprised laugh when he feathered a kiss over her instep, but it changed to a moan of pleasure as he traced patterns on her calf with his tongue then moved further up, pressing kisses to the inside of her thigh as he guided her legs apart.
He parted her folds gently, exposing her clit, then went to work on it with his clever tongue, flicking and stroking and massaging. She groaned and dug her fingers into the comforter, bracing her feet on the mattress as he lapped greedily at her pussy. Orgasm coiled tighter and tighter right where he was kissing her, tantalizingly out of reach until he pushed two fingers inside her, thrusting into her wetness and sending her tumbling into a blissful climax. She gasped and writhed, thighs trembling as he lashed her with his tongue until he’d wrung every last spasm from her.
He worked his way back up her body, and she eagerly helped him to strip off his jeans, making a hungry sound of pleasure as his cock sprang free and she wrapped her fingers around its solid length.
He groaned. “Don’t touch me. It feels too good. I want to be inside you when I come.”
She eagerly assented, helping him to guide himself to her entrance, then hooked her leg over his hip so he could push all the way inside her, deep and hard.
They both gasped for breath at the sharpness of the pleasure, and Grant shuddered for a moment, eyes closed, eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he grappled for self-control.
