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Grace
Gripping Cash’s large hand in mine as he steers us to the curb and into a waiting town car, I don’t give myself even a moment to reconsider what I’m doing.
“Having second thoughts?” Cash murmurs into my hair as he rains kisses down my neck. I smile to myself and lean into his touch as a low moan leaves my throat.
“Nope, but I do need to text my friends, so they aren’t worried about me,” I murmur.
“You going to tell them who you went home with?”
I look at him over the glow of my phone and see the smirk he’s sporting. What he doesn’t realize is that me hooking up with the hottest bachelor in Boston isn’t bad, and certainly not something for me to hide, but him hooking up with a woman who is still married is a problem. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
Cash’s hands move around my waist, and he pulls me onto his lap. His fingers rake through my hair as he stares at me. “We are going to be doing a hell of a lot more than kissing tonight, Gracie.”
The ease of the way the nickname flies off his tongue sends a warmth to my heart. I want this to be all about sex, but it isn’t. I’ve not so slowly fallen for Cash. I didn’t believe it was possible that I would fall for the first man who kissed me after my separation, that this connection we had could translate into anything more than a fling, but God was I wrong.
After spending the last few weeks with women who have had years of fun and don’t seem at all interested in settling down, I know that I could enjoy their version of Boston and that I may even fit in more with their lifestyle than I ever did with my own. And yet looking at him now, I know I’m a goner. I want Cash and all the mess that entails.
Our tongues tangle together the entire ride, as his hands trace down my arms to my hips and over my ass as if he’s memorizing every inch of me. When we finally pull up in front of our destination and come up for a moment’s breath, I have no idea where we are.
“A hotel?” I ask, a bit thrown. Does he not want to bring me back to his apartment?
Cash takes my hand and waves the car off. “It’s only temporary. Remember I wasn’t living here until a few weeks ago and it was all very sudden. I thought I’d be in Nashville long-term. That’s where my house is.”
My nerves settle. That makes sense.
Cash leads me through the lobby and straight to the elevator. As soon as we are alone again he’s on me, pushing me against the metal exterior, lifting the skirt of my dress so he can grip my ass, and then kissing the hell out of me.
When the elevator dings, he walks me backward as we make our way down the hall, not removing my lips from his own, and I giggle as I take a ride on his shoes. “You’re very clingy, Mr. James,” I tease.
With a smile on his lips, he replies, “Damn right. I’ve been dying to get you all to myself for weeks. Now that you’re mine, I’m not letting you go.”
“Where’s the keycard, Mr. James?” My hands roam into his pockets, and I pull out his wallet as he eyes me with a smirk. When I reach in and a condom falls out, I feign shock. “Mr. James, were you on the prowl tonight?”
“Every time you say that my cocks grows another inch,” he says, as he pushes himself against me so I can feel precisely what he’s talking about.
“Well, then I better stop because we both know that thing is at max capacity.”
He smiles a devilish grin, lets out a low laugh, and leans into my neck before growling, “It’ll fit.”
I yelp as he slaps my ass and I bite my lip, impatient for everything he’s promised.
“We just gonna stand here, Mr. James, or are you gonna finally show it to me?”
Cash pulls out the keycard and presses it against the door, then without warning, he lifts me into his arms, throwing me over his shoulder and slapping my ass again. “Wiseass.”
I laugh as he carries me through a living room area—this is one hell of a hotel room—past an incredible view of the Boston skyline which is lit up as if just for our viewing pleasure, and straight into the bedroom where he throws me onto the white duvet which covers the king-size bed.
Positioning myself on my elbows, I finally take a moment to stare at him. The air crackles between us as the tension of the night snaps. We are finally alone. After a month of toeing the line, of forbidden stares, of denying our feelings, of lashing out, finally it’s just him and me.
“What do you want, Cash?” I ask in an almost pant.
As he watches me, he slowly undoes the buttons at his wrists. He stalks closer to the bed and then one by one unbuttons his shirt. Those simple acts alone have me clenching my thighs, itching to touch him. His hair is mussed from my hands roaming through it in the car, and his whiskey-brown eyes gaze hungrily at me. “I want you in the shower. I want to do all the things I’ve been thinking about doing since I first saw you on the plane. I want to feel how wet you are for me, and I want to taste every inch of your body. I want all of you, Grace.”
Cash licks his lips in promise, and a tortured sigh escapes my lips as my hips move involuntarily and I squeeze my legs together, begging for the pressure he’s promising.
“Is that what you want, Grace?”
I clench just from the sound of his voice.
