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I smile at her. “I’m a grown woman, and I’m not going to let those fuckers ruin the best relationship I’ve ever had.”
“Atta girl!” Isla says. “Now give me a tour of this gorgeous house!”
Chapter 23
Kyle
I’m miserable as Ethan drives us through the gates of my house, leaving a pack of hungry paparazzi outside. Thank God for tinted and soundproof windows.
When I left this morning, I couldn’t wait for the hours to go by so that I could return home. Now, a cloud of despondency has settled over me, and I feel as if I’m on a countdown for the beginning of the rest of my miserable life.
Chris sent me the links to the stories that appeared everywhere of Grace and me at the pool yesterday. It’s against the law, but the fuckers must have used a drone to access my property and take pictures of us. I’m so angry I want to punch something.
I wish they had directed their mean comments to me. I wouldn’t care. But to my Grace ... Worse, I know what it means to our still-new relationship. Even though she’s never actually said it, I know that news of her identity would be the last straw for her. So I am not looking forward to going home, knowing that Grace is probably practicing her break-up speech. I don’t blame her either.
The lack of privacy is tough, but the bullying can be unbearably painful. It’s bad enough for veterans, people who’ve been in the limelight all their lives. I imagine how it is for someone like Grace, who has lived her life as a regular person, even sacrificing a career in art for her privacy.
Yeah, I’m sure right now she’s probably pacing up and down, waiting for me to get home. Chris only let me know about it in the evening. If he’d told me in the morning, I’d have come right home. Added to the distress of knowing that the one good relationship I’ve ever had is about to end is the fact that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me.
I get out of the car and stroll to the front door. I’m expecting silence as it’s late and Maria has probably left for the evening. Instead, I’m met with chattering voices, and I follow them to the kitchen. Grace is seated on a barstool at the island having dinner, and Maria is sitting opposite her and engaged in what seems to be a very lively conversation. Maria stands when she sees me, and Grace swivels around in her stool and beams at me.
To say that I’m surprised is an understatement.
“Would you like me to warm your dinner before I go?” Maria says.
“No, I’ll be fine, thanks,” I tell her without taking my eyes off Grace. I move closer and kiss her on the mouth.
“Hello you,” she says. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.”
I laugh, hardly daring to believe that this relaxed beautiful woman is Grace. A disturbing thought crosses my mind. What if she doesn’t know that she was the subject of gossip today?
“In that case, I’ll see you two tomorrow,” Maria says, and her footsteps fade away.
“Don’t look so worried,” Grace says and strokes my cheek. “I saw the gossip, and I survived it.”
I grin like an idiot. “Yeah?”
She makes a face. “I have to be honest. I wasn’t this calm in the morning when my mom called me to scold me about how I’m embarrassing them. I called Isla, and she came over.”
I’m relieved that she was not alone, even though I wish I’d been the one to be there for her.
“I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t going to let them get to me, and so here I am.” She squares her shoulders and lengthens her neck.
I laugh. “I’m so proud of you,” I say and then grow solemn. “I thought I’d lost you for sure.”
She stands and moves between my legs. I rest my hands on her hips and slowly run my hands up and down. Arousal hits me, a combination of pent-up emotions. My cock strains against my jeans as it swells and grows hard,
“That had been the plan, but I hadn’t factored in my feelings. I’m addicted to you, Kyle Bryce,” she says, holding my gaze. No words have sounded sweeter.
“Don’t ever stop being addicted to me.”
“I won’t. Not when you keep doing the kind of things you’re doing with your hands,” she says breathlessly.
My hands are softly stroking the edge of her panties under the light material of her dress. I inhale the scent of her arousal just as she hugs me to her. My head is cradled against her breasts, and I move it up and down her cleavage.
I bring my hands up to cup her breasts and raise my face to kiss her. Her lips are so soft and malleable; they mold against mine perfectly. I could stay this way forever, with our lips unmoving but touching. She groans and opens her mouth, and I do the same. Our movements are synchronized as our tongues find each other and tangle together. Her nipples are hard points under her dress, and I flick them with my thumbs. Her sweet moans fill the room as I pleasure her with my hands.
