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Grace mentally thanked Riley for the constant arsenal of sex tricks in every Stiletto article, because she had Jake on his back in seconds, grinning victoriously as she straddled him, fingers already on the drawstring of his pants, sliding them down.
He grabbed her hand as she was about to reach for him. “Still think I’m overcompensating for something when I order pepperoni on my pizza?”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously? That again?”
He continued to stare up at her, waiting expectantly.
“Fine,” she relented, easing her hand out of his grasp and sliding her fingers around the long hard length of him. “Nobody has cause to be disappointed by this, no matter what type of pizza you order.”
Her hand moved over him, slower this time, and his eyes closed.
Grace smiled in victory. “Now what were you saying, Mr. Malone? Something about wanting me to thrill you?”
Her hand dipped lower as she flicked kisses over his chest.
Jake’s fingers found her hair as he groaned. “Never mind. You’ve got this.”
Grace smiled. Yes, she certainly did.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You’re sure about this?” Jake asked, staring skeptically down at the card the Oxford receptionist held out to him.
Melissa Sorenson gave him one of those oh please looks that women must have developed in the womb along with their ovaries.
“Trust me. Everyone knows that Grace likes chocolate. You’ll be a god.”
“Yeah, but a chocolate fountain? And what do you mean, everyone knows that Grace likes chocolate?”
“You mentioned it on the site several weeks ago. On your third or fourth date at Starbucks when she ordered a mocha and you offended her by saying white chocolate and chocolate were the same thing.”
He stared at her in horror. “Good Lord, how do you remember that?”
Melissa scowled at him. “You don’t? These are crucial details, Jake. I know I work for Oxford and everything, but ultimately I’m a female first, and your forgetfulness is soooo going on the blog.”
Jake was saved when she had to take an incoming phone call, although he did pocket the card for the chocolate fountain restaurant Melissa was insisting he try. It wasn’t really his thing, but it couldn’t hurt as a way of smoothing things over with Grace, who he was pretty sure was plotting her revenge from when he let her think that he’d documented her sex-noises on the Internet.
Right. Even if he didn’t have some journalistic morals, there’s no way he was letting the rest of the world in on those little moans she made. They were his. She was his.
That much he was sure of.
He just had a few things to figure out. Like what the hell they were going to do after that big baseball game finale that was right around the corner.
Neither one of them had breathed a word about what happened after that. Sure, they’d made progress last week after she’d told him about her ex-boyfriend’s proposal.
But had they agreed on anything other than exclusivity? For all he knew, she was still planning on starting her dumb plan for six months without men after their joint work assignment was done.
And then there was the not-so-minor detail that he could be in Cairo or Juneau or Madagascar at any point in the next year. She’d probably want to know that.
Maybe he could tell her after she’d gorged herself on the chocolate fountain.
But Jake was pretty sure no amount of chocolate, fountain or otherwise, would have Grace Brighton getting excited about the prospect of traveling with him. She had a life here, and he knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t exactly the jet-setting type.
She’d all but told him outright last night while looking at his travel photos.
Jake tried to push the thought aside as he headed back to his office. One day at a time. That’s all they’d committed to. Exclusivity, and one day at a time. There were no wedding bells. No babies. No exchanging of apartment keys.
He patiently waited for the wave of relief that usually came along with the reminder that his official status was still not committed.
