by LuAnn McLane
“You chilling out?” Jesse asked. “Uh . . . yeah.”
“No, us being perfect,” Oliver replied.
Jesse shook his head. “Why do you always have a stick up your ass?”
“I don’t have a stick up my ass.”
“Yeah, you do, and you look like you’re constipated when you dance,” Jesse said, drawing a glare from Oliver.
“Guys!” Arabella yelled this time, and fisted her hands on her hips. “Knock it off,” she added, but then turned to Grady. “What’s wrong? These moves are simplified.” She raised her palms upward. “I don’t get it.”
“You are the weakest link,” Jesse said in a low tone just loud enough for Grady to hear. While Grady realized that Jesse was joking, the comment sent him over the edge.
“Really, Jesse?” Grady shouted. “I don’t think so.” Okay, he knew the comeback was lame, but that was all he had. He pointed to Arabella. “Maybe it’s the teacher’s fault for going too fast,” he said, deciding to throw some shade at the real reason he kept messing up.
“Seriously?” Arabella shook her head. “You’re blaming your mistakes on me?” She tapped a finger on her chest in anger, but her gesture brought his attention to her breasts, which were clearly outlined by the tight material hugging them.
“What if I am?” Grady asked, knowing he sounded like a five-year-old but unable to help himself.
“We’re supposed to be perfectly professional, remember? Your rules. And yet you’ve had it in for me all week long.” Arabella took a step closer, and, to his surprise, jabbed a finger into his sweaty chest. “Back off, buddy.”
“ ‘Buddy’?” Jesse laughed, making Grady even more angry at Arabella. “That’s awesome.”
“Poking me isn’t exactly professional,” Grady said, and his mind went where it shouldn’t.
“Oh, really?” Obviously at the end of her rope, Arabella gave Grady a little added poke and it pissed him off even more. “Oliver’s right. Get your head in the game.”
“I said out of his ass,” Oliver corrected.
Jimmy gave Oliver a little shove. “Dude, stop it,” he pleaded, but his calm request went unheeded.
Things were about to get real.
“Yeah, shut the hell up, Oliver.” Grady was even annoyed at Jimmy for being so damned calm and turned to him. “Why don’t you just lose your shit for once? Always being in control is annoying.”
“Are you serious?” Jimmy shrugged. “What good would that do? Come on, Grady. Get it together.”
Grady stalked over and picked up a bottle of water, squeezing it so hard that the plastic crackled. “You know, I have a helluva lot more on my plate than these stupid dance moves.”
“ ‘Stupid’?” Arabella sputtered, but he ignored her. “These stupid dance moves helped make you famous.” She looked ready to poke him again.
Grady drained the bottle and tossed it in the general direction of the nearby trash bin, missing his target by a mile. He didn’t care. “I’ve had to give the okay for more merchandise, requiring me to look at hats, shirts, posters, pins, and coffee mugs until I’m cross-eyed. I’ve had to do countless interviews and okay several ads, posters, leaflets. The list goes on and on. So if I miss a damned dance spin or forget to pat my chest, it’s nothing compared to what I’ve had to do all week.” Of course, most of what he had said was bullshit, because he had staff doing some of the work, but he couldn’t confess that it was looking at Arabella’s perky ass that had made him turn the wrong way more times than he could count.
Oliver snorted. “If you weren’t such a control freak, you’d let us do some of that stuff.”
“Until we have the funds to hire someone, I run the foundation,” Grady reminded them. “I’m in charge of publicity. I make the final decisions.”
Jimmy finally stepped forward. “Look, being at one another’s throats won’t solve anything. Grady, slow your roll. You’re coming unhinged.”
Grady knew Jimmy was right, but he was suddenly at his boiling point. And Arabella was the main cause, so he turned on her. “You are going too fast,” he accused again. “I think you’re doing it just to get under my skin,” he said, and then immediately wished he had phrased it differently. He wanted her under his skin, over his skin, and anywhere his skin could touch her skin.
“Wow.” Arabella narrowed her eyes at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“No, that’s me. I can’t be serious,” Jesse said, but his joke failed to ease the tension crackling in the room.
“Why would I try to make you slip up? What would I have to gain?”
“Getting back at me,” Grady stated flatly. For something he didn’t do.
“Right, that makes perfect sense. You’re out of your mind.” She looked up at the ceiling and then at him but he wouldn’t back down.
“So, do you deny it?”
“Wow. I won’t dignify that with an answer.”
“Cop-out,” Grady said quietly, but still just loud enough for her to hear.
“You know, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. No, I take that back. This was never a good idea.”
“Really? Running away again?” Grady demanded, knowing he was adding fuel to the fire but unable to stop himself. “Try something new. The running shit is getting old.” Years of being pissed at her for not trusting him, for not giving him a chance to explain his innocence, rushed into his head and came out of his mouth. And he knew the reason. Despite what she’d done, he couldn’t get her out of his head long enough to think straight, and it wasn’t only when he was dancing. Yesterday, he’d nearly run a red light. Twice. This morning he’d burned scrambled eggs while staring right at them in the skillet, setting off the ear-piercing smoke alarm. Orange juice had ended up in his coffee instead of creamer. The list went on and on, and that was just in the last couple of days. “Don’t forget, you’re under a ‘binding contract,’ ” he added with an edge of sarcasm. He did air quotes and then felt silly.
“Uh, not according to you,” Arabella responded tartly. When she leaned forward, he could see a hint of cleavage that he tried unsuccessfully to ignore, inflaming his anger even more and making him forget the retort he had on the edge of his tongue, mostly because he could think of much better uses for his tongue. “Thank you for pointing that out.”
Grady knew he was being unreasonable but couldn’t help himself. He turned around, hoping for some sort of backup from his brothers, or at least hoping one of them could duct-tape his stupid mouth shut. But they were gone. “What the hell?” Grady glanced around, but they’d somehow vanished. “Where did they go?”
“I just watched them walk out the door, and I don’t blame them!” Arabella raised her palms skyward, making her tank top hug her breasts. “I guess they’ve had enough of your whining.” Fisting her hands, she made a crying gesture over her eyes.
“I don’t whine,” Grady said in a voice that sounded a lot like a whine. The whole thing was becoming close to humorous, but he didn’t want Arabella to see the crack in his armor, and so he kept the frown firmly in place. “Jesse is the whiner.”
“So what do we do now that you’ve chased them away?” she asked with an accusatory tilt of her head. “Huh? The day is being wasted.”
“I’d like to get wasted.”
“Right, mature thoughts. But actually, though: What should we do?”
“I guess we go find them,” Grady replied, then stomped over to the door.
“The whole stomping thing is super silly. Don’t ever do that again.”
Grady flicked an irritated glance her way and then tried to push the door open. It wouldn’t budge. “No way!”
“What?”
“You’re not going to believe it. They’ve locked us in.”
“How can they do that from the outside?”
“A rake or something is wedged against
the door. I don’t know what they did, but it won’t open.”
“Seriously?” Arabella asked in a tone an octave lower than her normal voice. Grady somehow found that sexy. “Wow.”
“It won’t budge an inch.” Grady pushed the door to demonstrate.
“What are they trying to accomplish?” she asked, walking closer to him.
“Well . . .” Grady looked at her. “I guess they want us to work things out.”
“Impossible. This situation is tolerable at best.”
“It isn’t tolerable, and we both know it,” Grady said.
“Why? Come on, we’re both adults.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, one of us is.”
Grady blew out a sigh. “That’s not it,” he said, and stomped away.
“Would you quit with the stomping already?” she shouted.
Grady gave her a look and then lowered one shoulder toward the door.
“Grady!” Arabella’s eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”
“Take a running leap at the damned door and break it down.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Yes!”
“You could hurt yourself!” she sputtered. “No, I won’t let you do something so incredibly stupid!”
“Try to stop me.” Grady took his first step forward, and she came flying at him, so he couldn’t do anything else but catch her. Holy shit, she was little, but she packed quite a punch, making him stagger backward and end up against the wall. He immediately felt the sensual impact of having her arms around his neck, her breasts crushed against his chest, and her cute ass cupped in his hands.
And suddenly Grady had Arabella York just where he wanted her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
QUIT PLAYING GAMES
(WITH MY HEART)
Arabella blew out a breath when Grady’s hard body knocked the wind out of her. She clung to him, a bit dazed for a moment. But then she felt the heat of his skin beneath the soft cotton shirt, the strength of his hands cupping her ass, and the delicious sensation of having her breasts pressed against his solid chest. She knew she should push away, try to regain her footing, but she couldn’t resist remaining tangled in Grady Heart’s arms for just a moment longer.
The warmth of his breath next to her cheek sent a hot tingle to sweet places only he could ignite. Her nipples tightened and she longed to press her lower body closer to see if he’d responded in the same way. To her delight, Grady’s firm grip on her ass pulled her core closer to right where she wanted it . . . and oh yeah, his body had definitely reacted.
And he wanted her to know it.
Now was the time to protest, to pull back and push at his chest, but she couldn’t. Instead, she allowed herself to enjoy the sexy abrasion of the dark stubble on his cheek next to her softness. She inhaled the spice of his aftershave and nearly groaned at the steely hardness of his erection.
“Arabella . . .” Grady said in a low tone, conveying what he wanted in a single word. Her name.
God, she shouldn’t surrender.
And yet she did.
With a breathless sigh, she pulled her head back and looked at him, wanting to see the emotion playing across his face. His light blue eyes were filled with need, with longing, and when he dipped his head and captured her mouth, Arabella kissed him back with all the passion she’d been harboring for so long. Ah, his lips were firm but soft, demanding but yielding, and when his tongue tangled with hers, she moaned in the back of her throat.
Grady pressed closer with slow, pulsing movements that had her wanting to have him buried inside her. As they continued to kiss hotly, deeply, she felt him carry her somewhere, and then realized they were no longer in the rehearsal area. She became dimly aware that they were in a storage room. Fingers of sunshine reached through a small window up near the ceiling, casting a soft glow.
Grady lowered her onto something big and bouncy, and she realized with a bit of humor that it was a big inflated pool float. When he paused to peel her clothes off, Arabella couldn’t find her voice. She wanted to protest, but her resistance paled in the face of red-hot passion. Grady’s big hands, his long fingers, explored her body while he kissed her until she all but melted into the springy plastic.
When he started a moist trail of kisses along her neck Arabella gasped and tugged at his shirt. He paused to shed his clothes, and she was rewarded with a mouthwatering view of his naked body. She drank in the sight of his wide shoulders, muscular chest, powerful thighs . . . and the jutting erection that made her want to reach over and slide her hands over his skin.
Neither of them spoke, perhaps knowing words might break the spell and allow reality to seep back into the moment. All that could be heard was the sound of breathing and Arabella’s sweet sigh when Grady joined her on the float. The touch of his warm body against hers caused a thrilling jolt of pleasure wherever skin slid against skin. He kissed her again while exploring her body with his hands, lightly caressing until she arched her back, wanting more, offering more. When his mouth left her lips, he nuzzled her neck and then headed lower. When his tongue licked a taut nipple, Arabella couldn’t suppress a low moan of pleasure.
Grady licked, laved, and then nibbled on Arabella’s nipples, feasting on one breast and then the other. She threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him on while her body craved more and more. Wild with need, she parted her thighs, letting him know just how much she wanted him thrusting deep inside her. Regret didn’t enter her mind—all she could think of was how much she wanted Grady Heart.
When Grady’s fingers dipped into her wet heat, Arabella arched her hips. He groaned and then kissed her with intense hunger, letting her know that he was as out of control as she felt. His hands, his mouth drove her crazy. . . .
And now there was no turning back.
Grady slipped his hands beneath her ass and tilted her up, and although her eyes were closed, she could feel the heat of his gaze upon her naked body. And then, oh God, he licked her there once, twice, sending her need, her yearning, climbing higher.
And then he pulled back.
Arabella’s heart thudded and her body continued to pulse, but she didn’t dare open her eyes. Didn’t speak. He parted her folds with his fingers, widely exposing her, stretching the most sensitive part of her body. He blew a cool breath over the heat, nearly sending her over the edge with the sensual sensation against her wet, willing body. Her clitoris felt stiff, swollen, reaching for Grady’s tongue, but he held back. She felt the warmth of his breath and knew he hovered so close. She twitched, arched her hips, and then suddenly his tongue thrust inside her. With a little cry, she held his head, and when he licked and then sucked her hard, she exploded with an orgasm that rocked her whole body. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, followed by exquisite little clenches as the sensation receded. Her body felt heavy and she couldn’t begin to speak or move . . . but it wasn’t enough. She craved his arms wrapped around her and needed him to make wild, sweet love to her.
Before she could recover from the orgasm, she felt him enter her with one slow, easy thrust. God, having him inside her felt so delicious. With a soft moan, she wrapped her legs around him and ran her hands over the bunching muscles of his back. He started a gentle rhythm, and Arabella knew he wanted to bring her to the brink of orgasm again, and so he somehow was holding back. Even in his youth he’d been a giver, loving her pleasure as much as his own. When the heat started to build, she gripped his shoulders and urged him deeper, harder, and when she felt another orgasm take her, she cried out, amazed. He cupped her ass and thrust fast, deep, and she felt the heat, the pulse of his release.
Grady held her there, remaining buried inside her body, as if reluctant to break the intimate connection, and Arabella understood.
Finally, he pulled out and rolled to the side. For a few hard-breathing moments, they remained on the round float that had somehow ma
naged to stay inflated. Arabella stared at the ceiling, watching dust motes dance in the sunshine like little fairies. She swallowed hard, trying to absorb what had just happened, but her brain wouldn’t allow it. For just a little while, she only wanted to feel, not think. When was the last time she’d allowed herself to get caught up in the moment?
But then, oh God . . . her heart thudded when it suddenly occurred to her that she’d done the one thing she’d warned herself not to do . . . and she’d done it without a thought of using protection.
Mentally counting back, she realized that it was unlikely she was pregnant, but she didn’t know how to voice that awkward reassurance to Grady. And the thought of a baby, his baby, brought a lump of emotion to her throat and she suddenly had a difficult time holding back tears. Don’t cry!
Grady must have heard the hitch in her breathing, because he took her by surprise and reached for her hand. And oh, his simple gesture was almost her undoing.
“We need to declare a truce,” he said softly.
Arabella nodded. “Well, if this was your white flag . . .” she said.
“And it would be perfectly fine with me if we continued to do . . . this. What do you think?”
Grady’s question shocked Arabella. She’d been fully prepared for him to tell her that this was a mistake that couldn’t happen again. After all, he was the one who had set the ground rules. Her instincts told her—no, screamed at her—to resist. Having her heart shattered by him once was enough. But then again, resistance was pointless. She loved him. She craved his touch. And so why shouldn’t she surrender her body to him for the next few weeks?
“We don’t have to tackle the past or make promises—” He stopped and cleared his throat. “For a future. But I think we just proved that no matter what, the passion between us is still as hot as ever. Trying to keep from doing this was driving me nuts. So, for the sake of the reunion show . . .”
Arabella felt the tension leave her body. She couldn’t talk about the past with him without revealing too much. And she couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done, but Grady was right. This was the only truce that would work. “Okay,” she said, somewhere between giddy and sad. Feeling a bit exposed, she spotted a beach towel draped over a chair and tugged it over her body.