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The Escape

Page 39

by Alice Ward


  He lifted a brow. “Better?”

  I cupped his face, moving closer to him. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to look bad.”

  His hands came around me in a gesture so natural I imagined that we’d done this very thing in an alternate life. “You fit me perfectly, Journey.”

  I sighed. “I was thinking the same thing.” He frowned, and I pulled back a little. “What?”

  His eyes explored my face. “I miss your freckles.”

  Something inside me relaxed. Maybe he did like me for me. Most of me, anyway. My self-doubt would hopefully begin to quieten now. “You’ll need a chisel to find them again, I’m afraid.”

  “So… you don’t like this look?”

  I tilted my head and brought my hands up, freezing in place. “The plastic mannequin look?”

  He laughed, and I felt him relaxing too. “I do find myself afraid to kiss you.”

  I mimicked his polite tone. “You do, do you?” I puckered my lips that still tingled from whatever Jay had applied to them.

  He stared at them. “Will they shrink back down?”

  I pressed them together and they stuck. It took a bit of effort to pry them back open. “I’m not sure, honestly. I don’t recall any needles being used, so I’m thinking it’s temporary.”

  He pushed my hair behind my ear, then let his fingers move through the soft strands. “Well, what would you and your big lips like to do today? I’ve rented the car so that I can take you to visit some of the highlights in the city. The Rocky Steps. Independence Hall. There are some very nice museums, and if you’re hungry, we can—”

  I stepped closer to him. “I’m hungry.”

  His pupils flared. His nostrils flared. His arms tightened around me. “For what, Journey?”

  Be brave.

  “Let’s go back to your plane, Grant, and let’s feed each other. The anticipation is killing me.”

  He growled, low and deep in his throat. “I have a better idea.”

  In one swift motion, he lifted me up, and I was deposited into the creamy leather seat of the convertible. I laughed. “And here I thought these types of cars were just for show. Topless is practical too.”

  But he wasn’t smiling as he pressed a phone to his ear. The call took less than a minute, and I couldn’t help but be curious as to what he was planning.

  When he slid behind the wheel and started the engine of what I now recognized as a Corvette Stingray, I appreciated the roar of the car coming to life. He grinned over at me and gave the car a few additional hits of gas. “This baby would do better on an open road, but it’s fun anyway.”

  With his chipped tooth and wide grin, he looked like a teenager behind the wheel. I couldn’t stop from thinking about Nash and his Porsche. Did all men like the sound of a roaring engine? I focused back on Grant. Even the highly polished and polite ones?

  I squealed as he pulled onto the road, then laughed when he had to brake hard twenty yards away for an intersection. “Yeah, I can see where this would be more fun on an open road for sure.”

  His phone rang, and he popped a small device into his ear and tapped a button. “Yes.” He listened for a second and then said, “Thank you. Send directions to my phone.”

  The phone pinged again, and at the next stop light, he tapped a screen and the GPS popped up.

  “I don’t normally drive myself, so I don’t know the cities as I should.”

  Picking up his oversized phone, I studied the map, noticing all the historical places I’d love to visit one day. But not today. I had three weeks to live it up before I needed to close up shop on my nether regions and become a responsible human being again. I didn’t want to be responsible today.

  As I studied the screen, a message appeared at the top. Before I could ignore it or look away, I’d already read it.

  Tom: Yesterday’s closing -- $3.147 mil. Trending for same today.

  I stared at the message as it disappeared from the screen and gulped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I blinked over at him. “I’m sorry, but a message appeared and I couldn’t help read it before I thought to look away.”

  He didn’t seem concerned. “Who was it from?”

  “A man named Tom.”

  He nodded. “That’s my chief financial officer. He briefs me daily on the previous day’s earnings.”

  I gulped again. “Your previous day’s earnings was over three million dollars. I don’t remember the exact amount.”

  He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. “That’s a good day.”

  He was so casual about it. “It seems that way to me.” I tried to do the math in my mind. I made just at fifty-two thousand dollars a year before taxes. It would take me over fifty-seven years to make what he made in a single day. My vision blurred as the math figures continued to shift in my head. He made a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars an hour.

  And he wanted me in his bed?

  The self-doubt that had been whirling around me earlier returned like a sucker punch.

  His hand covered mine. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

  I looked at him. “Why do you want to be with me?”

  His hand tightened on mine so hard I winced as my knuckles squeezed together. He didn’t answer, just turned a corner, apparently being led by the GPS in his ear. He pulled to the curb, and a valet leaped out to open my door. He still said nothing, just got out too, grabbed my hand and pulled me through the front door of some opulent looking hotel.

  He was greeted by name as we approached the front desk, and all he needed to do was sign a piece of paper. That was it before he was handed a keycard.

  He still said nothing as he escorted me to an elevator. His nostrils flared when two other couples and a man in a business suit stepped on too.

  My heart was pounding like crazy as he opened the door and guided me into a room that was surely twelve times bigger than mine and Jaz’s apartment. I’d barely glimpsed the ornate woodworking when I was yanked into his arms, and he was walking me backward to what turned out to be a bathroom.

  He turned me until I was facing the mirror. It was still a surprise to see someone who didn’t look like me staring back.

  “You want to know why I want to be with you?”

  He took a washcloth from the rack and wet it under the faucet. Then he began to wipe. Starting at my mouth, then my face and eyes. Several washcloths later, he’d completely removed what had taken Jay half an hour to create.

  “That’s just a small part of the reason why, Journey.”

  “Grant…”

  I stopped speaking when he closed his eyes. “You have a mole a quarter inch from the right corner of your mouth. “You have forty-two freckles on your nose and cheeks.”

  I stared at myself, then looked at his reflection as he stood behind me. I had no idea if he was right or wrong. I’d never counted them before. “Grant…”

  He opened his eyes. “That’s the you I want to see when I’m inside you.”

  I turned to face him, lifting my trembling fingers until they were on either side of his face. I hated to break this moment, but I didn’t want him to have regrets or later worries, so I asked, “What about the contract?”

  He cursed. “It’s on the damn plane.” He pressed his forehead to mine and cursed softly again. “Shit.”

  A thought occurred to me, and I slipped out of his arms to walk into the living area of the penthouse. I spotted what I knew I’d find. A pad of paper and ink pen. Sitting on a chair, I began to write…I, Journey Walker, do consent and look forward to having sex with Grant Sommerfield as many times as possible. And I also solemnly swear not to talk about all the nasty things he does to me to anybody later.I scrawled my name across the bottom, then dated it and tore it off. I watched his lips quirk as he read it. “Good enough?”

  He stuffed the paper in his pocket. “Good enough. And if I’m not mistaken, you have a contract for me.”

  I bit my lip and began to write…I, Grant S
ommerfield, accept Journey Walker for who she is, freckles and all.I tore it off and watched him smile, then handed him the pen when he requested it. A second later, the paper was given back. I stood and held out a hand. He placed his palm against mine and I smiled. “Can the sex begin now?”

  He laughed and yanked me to him. “Yes. It can begin.”

  And it did, and from the second his lips touched mine, I knew it would be an experience I’d never forget.

  I’d enjoyed his kisses before. I’d come to crave them, if truth be told. But this kiss… the first and last kiss that we’d share before our relationship evolved to a new level of intimacy had every cell in my body tightening with need.

  Closing his hand around my hair, he held my head in place as he practically plundered my mouth, his teeth raking over my bottom lip.

  Our kiss continued as he pushed my blouse farther down my shoulders, past my elbows, forearms, and hands. The strapless bra fell to the floor, and the soft cotton of his shirt was the only thing between my nipples and his chest.

  His tongue swept into my mouth, twirling with mine as I unbuttoned his shirt, feeling the hard expanse of skin under my hands as I pushed it from his shoulders. Felt the scars.

  Before I could pull away to examine them closer, he picked me up. I yelped in surprise, but the sound was muffled against his mouth as he carried me to the bed.

  There, he slipped off my shoes, kissing each ankle as he did. My shorts were next, and his nostrils flared as I was left in nothing but my white panties. I loved how my skin glowed from the oils used on me earlier. Everywhere he looked at me, I felt like I was being seared. I longed to cover my small breasts, knowing they were nothing like what he was probably used to.

  But I didn’t allow self-doubt to win. Not when he clearly appreciated what he was seeing. The tent in his pants was evidence of that.

  And he had flaws too.

  Now that he was standing shirtless above me, I could see the extent of the damage to his shoulder and arm. He had been cut badly, multiple times, and I couldn’t make sense of the pattern.

  “Boating accident,” he said, his finger lifting to his lip. “The propeller on one of the boats flew off and hit me.”

  I moved until I was in front of him, kneeling on the bed. I reached up and traced the scars. Some were deep, with sections of muscle gone beneath them. Some had been grafted. I couldn’t even imagine the pain it had caused him.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, raising until I could kiss the indention on his right pec.

  He stiffened. “It was a long time ago.”

  Just as I opened my mouth to ask another question, he kissed me, clearly uncomfortable with the subject, and I let it go, also preferring the taste and feel of him right now. He pushed me until I was on my back again, and I watched him finish lowering his zipper, the soft hiss of it sensual in the quiet room.

  Before he dropped the pants to the floor, he stuck a hand in the pocket and pulled out a condom.

  I raised a brow. “Pretty confident, were you?”

  He grinned and pulled out a second. “Hopeful.” He pulled out a third. “Very hopeful.”

  I laughed as he tossed them onto the bed.

  Then I grew quiet as his pants fell away. Scars and all, he was a magnificent specimen of a man. Broad chest tapered into a rippled abdomen, and oh, that sexy v-cut that led to the boxers that barely concealed the bulge beneath them.

  I came very close to saying, “Hey, where are the sequins?” but remembered that that particular conversation had been with Nash. I needed to be careful. I pushed the light eyes from my mind and focused on the dark ones looking so intently at me now.

  Only curiosity could have torn my gaze from his when he lowered his briefs and his cock sprang free, bobbing up and coming close to his navel.

  Damn.

  Maybe the romance novels were right.

  I licked my lips. “My, what a big penis you have.”

  If it was at all possible, his dark eyes grew to nearly black. “I’ll let you discover tactilely everything I want to do to you with it.”

  I smiled. “Tactile me then.”

  My breathing grew heavier as he moved like a predator onto the bed, lowering his head to kiss my knee, the inside of my thigh, one hipbone, then the next. He nuzzled his nose in the white cotton of my panties, and I listened to him inhale.

  “Your scent is addicting,” he said, and I felt the vibration of the words against my clit, and I arched until I was pressed against him harder. “I’ve been imagining how you’ll taste, imagining how tight you are, how wet.”

  His words were a seduction, each word vibrating into and through me, pulling me deeper into the waters of pleasure.

  I reached for him and found his hair, sinking my fingers into the strands. “Grant…”

  “Yes, Journey… tell me what you want.”

  I raised my head and our eyes met down the length of my body. “Your tongue. I want your tongue.”

  He licked me through the thin material, pushing the cotton up into me. My head fell back as his teeth scraped over my clit. Pulling hard, he yanked the panties down my thighs and tossed them to the floor.

  Just as I was about to beg for his tongue again, he blew a steady stream of cool air up my slit and goose bumps raised on my skin. Then he began to ravage.

  I tried to push him away. I tried to pull him to me harder. I tried to survive the onslaught of his teeth and tongue but wasn’t sure if I could as he sucked and licked, coaxing me to the edge of orgasm, my cries seeming to only increase his need to devour.

  He was relentless, creating a quick, fluttering rhythm that pushed me like a train toward the edge of existence. Then I was gone. Every cell in my body exploded as the orgasm hit me so hard and so fast it stole my breath, leaving me mute even as my mouth opened to scream.

  The onslaught continued, with fingers this time, spearing and scissoring me, filling me up. It wasn’t the fifteen seconds of romance novels, but it had to have been pretty damn close because I was flying again, nearly weeping from the intensity of it.

  There was the hiss of a condom wrapper, and I managed to open my eyes quickly enough to watch him roll it on, his long fingers making quick work of the task.

  “You’re so perfect,” he said as he crawled up my body, his tongue tracing a path to my breast. I cried out as he sank his teeth into one nipple, sucking and pulling before moving his attention to the other.

  “Please,” I begged, pulling him higher, my legs wrapping around his thighs.

  He kissed my shoulder. My ear. My neck. My jaw. The very tip of my nose. When his lips finally found mine, his cock nudged my entrance.

  “Are you sure you want this?” His breath was a hot blast against my face, and I could see the effort it took for him to wait. The head of his cock slipped through my wet folds until it stroked over my clit, sending another course of delicious sensations through me.

  I cupped his face with my hands, lifted my head to press my lips to his. “So very sure. Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

  The hard length of him slid across that bundle of nerves again, and I closed my eyes.

  “Look at me.”

  He reappeared, so very close that I could see my reflection in his dilated pupils.

  In one strong thrust, he was inside of me, and his mouth crashed down onto mine as our bodies slammed together, the echo of skin on skin loud in the room. I keened, but he swallowed the sound… and every sound after it.

  With our height difference, our bodies shouldn’t have fit together so perfectly. We shouldn’t have been able to move as if we were one soul. He was so big, so powerful. He could crush me if he wished.

  But he didn’t.

  Even as he began to move in earnest inside me, stretching and filling me to the knife’s edge of pain, I could feel his restraint, the power he held back. I didn’t feel threatened by this man. I felt safe.

  “Journey…” My name was a whisper on his lips that he repeated over and ove
r. I wrapped myself around him tighter, watching his face. Our eyes connected as we lost ourselves to each other. Found each other too.

  Each stroke took me higher, to the top of a mountaintop that was my destination, but I wasn’t ready for our journey to end.

  “Grant…”

  He hooked an arm under my knee, pulling my leg up, changing the angle as he drove harder and faster into me, causing my eyes to lose focus. This was everything. Sweat, hot breath, the sounds of skin on skin. Tongues, lips, teeth.

  The sound of my name. It was a curse. It was a prayer. But I’d never forget the look on his face as it flowed across his lips as we both came. Me first, then him. His body spasmed even through the white-hot pleasure of my orgasm, and he buried himself deep inside me one last time.

  It took a long time for us both to recover our breathing. It took a long time before his body slid out of mine. But it didn’t take long before we put the second condom into use. Then the third as Grant initiated me into the mile-high club on his plane.

  When we landed back in New York, Wayne was there to greet us.

  “Good evening, Miss Journey. I hope you had a pleasant trip.”

  I was sure that my cheeks were rosy as I said, “Thank you. It was wonderful.”

  When I was settled in the car, Wayne pulled Grant aside, and I watched the men talk. Grant frowned and glanced in my direction. A moment later, I learned why.

  “I’m sorry, Journey, but I have to leave for London tomorrow morning.”

  I tried to not look as disappointed as I felt. “Is something wrong?”

  His frown deepened, and he took my hand. “Yes. I’m afraid one of my managers there was caught embezzling and has been arrested. I’ll probably be gone most of the week.” He lifted my hand to his lips. “But I should be home by Friday.”

  It was my turn to frown.

  After the intense experience I just had with Grant, did I really want to go away with Nash?

  Should I cancel and see where things went with the man beside me?

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Grant said, squeezing my fingers. “I forgot that you already have plans.”

  He said it so matter-of-factly, and with so little emotion, that the words actually hurt a little.

 

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