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Chapter 4
Since rousing the rest of the Clegg family from their collective unconsciousness was the very last thing Tielle wanted to do, she stifled her desire to laugh, chuckle or even giggle as Grae returned her to her room. He carried her to the bed and followed her down, as she’d kept the collar of his navy flannel shirt in her grasp.
“How’d you know where I was sleeping?” Tielle asked, her cognac stare probing his bronze one.
“I make it my business to know these things.”
“But you said I wasn’t your business anymore.”
Grae brought his full weight down upon her. “When will you stop taking everything I say so literally?”
Tielle relished the brunt of his body against hers. That time, she didn’t command her eyes not to close. She savored the sensations he stirred and moved against him in a slow, needy grind.
Grae bowed his head. “Don’t do that,” he commanded in a whisper.
“Do what?” Tielle bit down on her lip and moaned close to his ear.
He grunted what sounded like a curse. Loosely cupping her neck, he used his thumb to tilt back her chin. Tielle followed through on giving him her tongue, and she didn’t know which one of them whimpered first when their tongues tangled, engaging in a sultry duel.
Tielle had lost her cap during the unorthodox trip through the house, and her coarse locks were freed. Grae gathered a fistful of the dark mass, using his hold to keep her mouth crushed beneath his. She kept her hands filled with the material of his shirt, eager to take him out of it and paying little heed to what she was doing. She only wanted this—him—what she’d missed for well over a year.
Worry about the rest later, Ti, a voice silently reasoned.
* * *
Later sounded just as incredible to Grae. His palms were greedy to be full of her, and he set out with intentions of making that happen. He cupped and squeezed her breasts, which, while neatly encased beneath the hooded sweatshirt, were just as beckoning. They appeared to offer themselves to Grae with every breath Tielle took. The brief grinding moves she plied against him had him thrusting next to her and wishing their clothes were anywhere but covering them.
Grae grumbled something incomprehensible while scooping her bottom into his palms and lifting her more snuggly into his mock thrusts. Tielle shuddered. Her participation in the kiss had grown ragged, needier.
“Grae…” Her nails scraped the whiskers shading his jaw while their tongues danced.
He was helpless to stop, but eventually he managed to do just that. Ending the kiss, he pressed his face into the crook of her neck. “Keep forgetting you’re not mine for the taking anymore.”
“Why’d you come here, Grae?” she moaned. “You could’ve sent anyone here to spy on Faro.” Her eyes took on an accusing sheen. “Why’d you need to come here and upset things?”
“Upset things?” He laughed. “Don’t you think things are already upset between us?”
Her lips thinned. “I’m dealing with it.”
Grae smirked. “I’m not.” He dropped a kiss to the corner of her mouth and left the room.
* * *
The next morning, Tielle studied her favorite bottle of creamer while preparing her first cup of coffee for the day. She wondered if she could get away with adding something a bit more flavorful to the hot beverage. She decided against that very appealing idea. Having gotten no sleep the night before, the last thing she needed was anything to induce relaxation.
“Hey! There you are! I’ve been looking for you since I got here,” Laura called when she whirled into the smaller user-friendly staff kitchen. “I wanted to get your final approval for tonight’s opening dinner.”
Opening dinner. Tielle repeated the phrase in her head, not quite able—or willing—to believe they were still in the beginning stages of the family bonding event.
“Ti?” Laura looked concerned. She set her work portfolio aside and joined Tielle on the other side of the kitchen. “So how’d it go last night? I take it you decided against leaving.”
With a withering look, Tielle took her coffee and went for a seat at one of the tables surrounding the kitchen island. Laura followed.
