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With her lip between her teeth, she points to my shirt. “Off,” she whispers.
I lift my shirt over my head and hear her hiss as she spots my abs. I slip off my jeans as well but leave my boxers on. I intend on keeping my promise to her. I am just going to sleep next to her tonight. “Do you want a T-shirt to sleep in?”
She shakes her head as she pulls the string on her wrap dress. It falls open and I’m silent, watching as the fabric slips slowly off her skin, down her shoulders, and onto the floor. She’s left in only a matching black bra and panties. I’m not surprised at all. She’s wound so tight that I would expect nothing less than a perfect manicure, matching lingerie, and a woman who is always freshly waxed.
She probably normally sleeps in a silk nightie and has matching robes for each one. As if reading my mind, she smiles devilishly. “I sleep in underwear.” She snaps the back of her bra, freeing herself, before staring at me with a pout that springs me to life.
“Fuck, Gracie, you are making it very difficult to keep my promise.”
She laughs and pats the spot next to her in bed. I try to pull my eyes away from her perfect pink nipples which point toward me as if they are begging for my lips. Her breasts are heavy, and I want to lay my head against them. I want to fondle, kiss, and bite them. I give myself one more second to stare and then I lie next to her but keep my hands to myself. If she wants me to touch her, she needs to ask for it. I’m keeping my word.
Grace eyes me as I lie with my hand behind my head. It only takes her a moment, and she curls up onto my chest, pressing her breasts into my side and wrapping her legs around my own. “What are you running from, Cash?”
I slip my hand through her hair, stroking as I talk. “I’m taking over as the CEO of my family’s business next week. This is my last big hurrah.” I laugh softly. Before, I thought this would be a weekend of drinking too much and maybe finding someone to lose myself in, but now I’m ready to drag this girl back to the city with me and convince her to stay by my side. She grounds me and makes me feel like I’m not so alone. It feels like she gets me.
What is happening to me?
“Do you not want to be CEO?” she asks softly as her fingers slide delicately across my chest in circles. I close my eyes at her touch, memorizing how she feels in my arms.
“I do.”
“But?” she asks knowingly.
I smile to myself. “But I thought we’d have more time. The reason I’m stepping in is because of my grandfather. He’s fading. I liked working in our distribution centers, traveling, dealing with people on the ground floor of our business. But the CEO belongs in the office. It’s just…” I falter for an explanation.
“The person you looked up to is disappearing and you have to grow up,” she says softly, understanding precisely how I feel without me having to voice it.
I kiss the top of her head and pull her up closer to me so that I can see her face. When we’re nose to nose I rub mine against hers, and her eyes crease in happiness.
“Yes. And now I’ve met this beautiful girl who I somehow need to convince to spend more time with me. She’s making it very difficult.”
Her lips curl up. “I thought you liked a challenge.”
I bite her bottom lip, holding it hostage, and my thumb moves across her nipple. Her eyes grow wide and then close as she hisses out a breath. “I’d love it whether you were easy or difficult. It’s you that I like.”
Grace melts against me, her tongue pushes open my mouth, and her hands roam my chest. I keep my hands high, keeping my word, and kiss her until we are both left panting. “Cash…I don’t…” She tries to explain.
I nod into her lips. “I know, Gracie, you don’t do this. I’m just going to hold you.”
She whimpers against my lips. “But I want to.”
I shake my head and kiss down her neck. “The first time there will be no question whether you think it’s right. We’re waiting.”
“Who are you and where were you eight years ago?”
I chuckle. “Well, I was a twenty-two-year-old dumbass so I don’t think you would have been interested.”
She bumps her head against my chest. “Ugh, you’re such a baby.”
I pull her chin up to look at me. “I’m thirty. How old are you?”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re not supposed to ask a woman that.”
I grin. “I knew you were going to say that. Tell me anyway.”
“I’m thirty-six. An old spinster.”
I laugh loudly and pull her close. “My old spinster.”
