Tell Me What You Crave

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Tell Me What You Crave Page 10

by Susan Sheehey


  All their playful banter, flirting, and dancing around each other culminated in this flawless moment. Much like her. Flawless.

  She reached down between their bodies, and gripped his dick in her fingers. He groaned at the pressure. With a smile that made his heart flip, she guided him to her entrance, and sank onto him.

  The tight heat made him hiss, and he almost came right then. Her groan vibrated against his neck, and his arms shook. He pressed her against the tile, and let the water cascade down her breasts and pool between their joined pelvises.

  Gripping onto his neck, Grace ground against him, her stomach arcing into him and her hips swirling.

  He nearly went cross-eyed from the stroke against his shaft, snug inside her. Dorian waited to move until he’d regained some control. Pulling out to the tip, he stroked himself inside her, slow and steady, in and out, and curling his ass into her hips to drive deeper.

  They found a comfortable rhythm, expanding the pressure at just the right speed, and letting it build.

  Their gazes locked for each thrust, never disconnecting, except when the ecstasy became too great from the friction. Never for too long, because Dorian didn’t want to miss a moment of rapture flicker across her face.

  His sac tightened, and his legs shook, straining to keep from releasing.

  Her rosy nipples hardened to tiny jewels, and jiggled with every plunge.

  Absolute perfection.

  His hips increased tempo without his control, the sweet torture coiling his insides to overload. He couldn’t let go. She had to come first.

  Her pants had turned to little yelps and groans, sweet and irresistible. She was close. If he could just hold on a little longer.

  “God, you feel so good,” Dorian panted. “I could make love to you for days.”

  Grace writhed under him, her glorious eyes darkening to a deep indigo in which he wanted to drown his soul. “Shut up, and take me.”

  He growled. “Yes, ma’am.” Though the words may have gotten stuck in his throat. Because right then she swirled her hips again, and her sex squeezed around him.

  Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she opened her mouth. The piercing scream erupted from her throat, and propelled him over that final edge.

  His balls squeezed up, and he burst, spilling himself in a glorious release. Dorian covered her mouth and tried to swallow her scream, savor every decimal of paradise.

  Grace shook and juddered around him, until her limbs went limp, and she buried her face in his neck.

  His knees trembled, and his mind turned to jelly. “Holy shit.”

  Earth shattering didn’t begin to cover it.

  She let her leg slip from his waist, and he set her down gently. After a quick clean up, he discarded the condom and turned off the spray.

  Then they collapsed on her bed in a tangle of towels.

  Dorian had no idea how much time passed before he felt the tug of sleep pull him under, with the goddess of 9C draped across his chest.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Dorian

  “Thank you.” Her soft words melded with the darkness in Grace’s bedroom.

  He took a deep breath, and rubbed her bare back, her body still draped over his chest. “You’re welcome.” Dorian kissed to the top of her hair.

  “Not for that.” Her finger traced around his nipple, her touch intoxicating. “At the fundraiser.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “That was a very hard night for me.” Her voice softened to barely above a whisper. “I don’t like speaking in public as it is, and my speech was very…personal. When I saw you out in the crowd, I was so fixated on your presence and angry at the whole situation…you kept me from focusing on my daughter’s memory. Which would have made me cry in front of all those people.”

  He rubbed his palm across her back.

  “You spared me that,” Grace finished. “So, thank you.”

  A twinge pulled on his heart. The ruffled sheets released more of her natural, soapy scent, and it wrapped around him like a blanket. A blanket of Grace.

  “That was the second sexiest moment I’ve ever seen you. In that dominatrix style dress. Black leather, delectable skin…a fantasy come to life.”

  She giggled. “Dominatrix?”

  “All you were missing was the whip.”

  “It was couture. And much tighter than I remembered from the store.”

  “I’m so grateful for that.” He chuckled.

  “Would it be too much to trouble you for another favor?”

  “If it requires me to get out of this bed right now, yes.”

  Grace’s laughter was a light caress that tickled his soul.

  He felt her smile across his pectoral.

  “This may be pushing the boundaries of our agreement, so feel free to decline,” she whispered.

  “I have no boundaries with you.”

  She raised her head, and propped herself up on an elbow. Her face was just as soft and adorable in the dark, and the gleam in her eyes glinted off the small light from the bedroom clock on the nightstand. “Ruben and Julie want to meet you.”

  “I figured they would. See if I’m good enough to pass muster?”

  “With probably his own unique interrogation to go with it. But you need to realize it’s not just about you and me.”

  Dorian brushed a stray hair away from her cheek, and tucked it behind her ear. “I know, his career, too. His marriage. The whole ridiculous notion of what our relationship signifies.”

  “No.”

  He paused.

  “It’s about Pax and Daisy, too.”

  His smile faded, and he studied her face. Waiting for her to continue.

  “They are extremely important to me.”

  “I know that.”

  “So, if you’re not up for interactions with the kids, too, they’ll see through that. This won’t work.”

  If Grace could see his smile, she didn’t show it.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “All I want to do is help you have fun. Enjoy life. If playing with those kids and splurging on your whims accomplishes that, my job is easy.”

  “Really? The whole kids thing doesn’t throw you?”

  Dorian chuckled again. “Throw me? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

  She lowered her lips to his. Her hair fell around his face in a silky curtain, and she slipped her tongue inside his mouth. Sweet and savory. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to find out.” Grace kissed him again, lazy and without any demand. “Why?” she whispered.

  “Why what?”

  “Why has it become your life’s mission to make sure I enjoy mine?”

  “You look like you needed it.”

  Grace shook her head. “Not enough. If you’re just looking for a good time, there are plenty of women out there with considerably less baggage than me.”

  “Let me tell you about your baggage.” Dorian stretched back, and turned on the lamp beside her bed. The dim glow bathed over her pink skin in an ethereal shine. Like a strawberry ice cream cone. “No, I’ve never been in your shoes. Never lost a child. A spouse. But I know what it’s like to carry around that black bag of death on your shoulder. Question each step you take—literally—and never know when one moment is your last. The one thing that finally gave me any peace was acknowledging that life’s just too damn short. There are so many serious things, do you really want to walk through every second worried about things you can’t control?”

  Grace studied his face, and the pink vanished from her cheeks. Her hair still tumbled around her shoulders in that just-screwed fashion that made him ache for her once again, but the lines in her forehead and had returned. The creases by her eyes more accentuated. “You said it yourself, you’ve never been in my shoes. The future you’d planned for yourself ripped away. To see your own flesh and blood suffer that way, and wonder why God didn’t take you? Instead of her? Instead of them? To look around you every day and see things she should be witnes
sing, but she never will.” She let out a shaky sigh, and pushed away.

  He sat up and propped against the cushioned headboard. “That’s not baggage, Grace. That’s grief. It’s only baggage if you let it stop you from living your life. Until one day, you wake up and just decide.”

  “Decide?”

  “To live. Make all the days after, count.”

  The creases in her forehead deepened. She looked away, and hugged her knees to her chest.

  “God didn’t take them from you. Sometimes, things go wrong. God didn’t put that trucker there that night. God didn’t put that IED in the middle of the road in that hellish desert. It was nothing more than dumbass chance I was in the Humvee behind them, instead of theirs.”

  She glanced his way, but didn’t look him in the eye.

  “Mourning them every day is just that, mourning. So, I decide to live my life every day, for them. Live, have fun, and enjoy life, for them.”

  On a sigh, Grace finally looked at him. Her eyes turned glassy. “And it’s just that easy? To decide to have fun?”

  Dorian trailed his hand down her arm, circling at the soft skin in her elbow. “You tell me. Did you have fun tonight?”

  She licked her lip, and the sheen vanished. “Yes. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

  He blinked. Question?

  “Why me?”

  He caressed her neck, and stared into the deep slate pools of her eyes. “Because anyone else other than you isn’t enough.”

  Dorian’s phone vibrated in his pocket as he stood off to the side of the hospital lobby. Photographers and journalists snapped photos of Grace holding a giant check with Ruben Wilde, his wife, and the Director of Pediatrics.

  Three times more paparazzi arrived than the original news media outlets were invited, but were allowed inside anyway, to help promote the charity.

  Her navy blouse covered more of her cleavage than other outfits Dorian had seen her wear, chosen on purpose for the event. He resisted licking his lips, thinking about those long legs under the black pants she wore.

  Today was about the charity, the children. He had to keep his libido in check. Despite how glorious the new glow looked on her face, fresh from their previous night’s nocturnal activities.

  His phone vibrated again, and he glanced at the caller ID. Duane. Dorian ignored it, and tried to listen to the barrage of questions thrown at the guests of honor.

  Eventually, all the fanfare ended, and the photographers were escorted outside by the additional security hired for the event.

  Ruben shook hands with the hospital director and a few others clambering around him like power mongers. All sucking up to the national celebrity, and trying to push their agendas.

  Grace spoke with a few journalists, and cast discreet glances in Dorian’s direction every few minutes. All he wanted to do was to plaster a claiming kiss on her delectable lips.

  With the determined smile on Julie’s face as she strolled over to him, that would have to wait. She extended her hand, and he grinned.

  “You must be Julie Wilde. Grace has told me a lot about you.” Dorian normally would’ve charmed a woman with a kiss on her hand, but that would’ve been inappropriate, given the recent rumors around the tabloids.

  Julie blushed. “Thank you.”

  “You handled the crowd quite well. I’m impressed.”

  Her smile faltered. “I did it for them.” She nodded in Ruben and Grace’s direction. “Given all the recent…everything. This is normally not my thing.”

  “I don’t think it’s anyone’s thing. Grace really cares about you.”

  She tilted her head. “And you?” Her voice lowered.

  “And me what?”

  “Do you care about Grace? Or is this just some chance at fame? Maybe a quick romp with a beautiful woman, while you’re at it.”

  Dorian stuck his hands in his pockets. He doubted she knew of his profession, but she had that accusatory stare and tone as if she did. At least doubting his motives. “If my motivation was fame, choosing Grace Evans wouldn’t be the ideal choice, would you agree?”

  Julie blinked. “Exactly. You won’t get that from her.”

  “So, by that rationale, I’m here for something else.”

  “Which is?”

  “Direct, aren’t you?” He chuckled. “You have nothing to worry about from me. I’m not one for the limelight. I’m here for Grace, and to make her happy. Being here to help her through this is my pleasure.”

  His phone buzzed again, shorter this time. Indicating a text.

  I said no pictures. This crosses the line. D.

  Dorian scowled. And texted back.

  I told you I could handle this.

  “Problem?”

  He looked up.

  Ruben stood beside his wife with his arm around her waist. His smile was pleasant, but an edge framed his gaze.

  “Of course not.” Dorian extended his hand. “Dorian West. Pleasure to meet you.”

  The celebrity shook it. “Likewise. What do you do, Dorian? Other than make the tabloids swoon?”

  His smile slipped. “Beg your pardon?”

  Ruben waved off the comment. “Nothing. Poor joke. That’s why I have script writers for the show. What do you do?”

  “I’m in entertainment, too.”

  “Really? An actor?”

  “No, more of a…consultant.”

  “Is there enough work here in Texas to pay the bills?”

  “Plenty.” A bitter taste reached his throat. He looked over Ruben’s shoulder for Grace, but she wasn’t there.

  “Have you thought about trying your hand out in Los Angeles?” Ruben asked. “You’ve got that dark, muscular look that producers are killing for right now. I’m sure my agent, Nigel, could throw your headshot around town, catch a few fish with it.”

  “No. Not really. Grace tells me you guys went on vacation. Those tans look nice. Where did you go?”

  The man’s polite smile widened ever so slightly, and he stood very still.

  “Curacao,” Julie replied for him. “Great place to get away. I’d go back in a heartbeat.”

  “Hopefully, not too soon. Grace has really missed Pax. She was worried.”

  Julie touched her heart. “How sweet! Aren’t you thoughtful.”

  “Mrs. Wilde?” A young woman from the barrage of administrators called. “Do you mind a quick picture?”

  “Excuse me.” Ruben’s wife gave a small peck on her husband’s cheek, and escaped to the grouping behind them.

  A few people stepped to the side, and Dorian caught Grace’s smile. She looked flustered, but she threw him a wink.

  He smiled back.

  “Well done.”

  He glanced at Ruben.

  “You didn’t fall for the bait.”

  “Bait?”

  The celebrity moved beside him, and crossed his arms, pretending to survey the scene before them and relish in the attention his wife received. “You’re not out for fame. Otherwise, you would’ve lit up like a Vegas hooker at the mention of L.A. producers and my agent.”

  Dorian scoffed, and cleared his throat. The backhanded arrogant implication didn’t impress him. “I think you’ve been surrounded by Hollywood sycophants too much.”

  Ruben snorted. “Tell me about it. Can’t escape it, no matter how much I try.”

  “Good thing you had that vacation.”

  “That was for the kids. And Julie.”

  “Smart move. Next time, don’t keep Grace in the dark. I don’t like seeing her that upset.”

  The guy frowned, but replaced it quickly with a neutral expression that he used often on his television show. “Don’t lecture me. You have no idea how quickly everything exploded. I appreciate you keeping her distracted from all this chaos. You’ve drawn the media’s magnifying glass off this ridiculous affair crap at the right time. Which is the only reason you’re here.”

  Dorian ground his teeth, but careful not to lose his calm expression. “I’m her
e, because Grace asked me to come. Not for your sake.” He gave him a fake smile. “Nice meeting the famous Ruben Wilde. Excuse me.” He approached the group, and caught Grace’s gaze.

  She made a few goodbyes, and he glanced at his phone again.

  Television suits you. I’m around the corner. Meet me. D.

  With a sigh, he shoved it in his pocket. What does he mean, television? Dorian wasn’t in any of the shots during the check unveiling. What the hell is he smoking?

  Grace reached his side a few minutes later.

  He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You ready?”

  “How did everything go?” she asked, and glanced at Ruben. Julie had returned to her husband, and gave him a wave. “Did he play nice?”

  Not exactly.

  “In all the fan-girling, I forgot to ask him where the kids are.” Dorian didn’t have the heart to tell her the whole exchange. Maybe it was just an off day.

  “A babysitter took them to the park. I’m about to go meet up with them. Do you mind?”

  He clicked his teeth together, assessing the timeframe. “You go ahead. I need to run an errand for my boss.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “Of course not.” He pressed his lips to hers. “I would love to meet Pax and Daisy. Raincheck?”

  Her gaze quavered over his, but she returned his kiss. “Are we still on for dinner?”

  “I wouldn’t miss that steak for anything. Except you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Grace

  “Gracie!” Pax threw his arms around her neck.

  She lifted him up and spun him around, letting his feet dangle out in the air.

  He snuggled his nose against her shoulder, and giggled. Just the way Meggie used to.

  Grace blinked away tears, and smiled. “You’ve grown a whole foot since I’ve seen you.” She set him down and straightened his shirt. “I want to hear all about the beach.”

  Daisy ran over from the swings and gave her a hug. “Did you miss me?” Her new lisp was from a lost front tooth. “Look what the tooth fairy brought me?” The little girl held up a bright pink magic wand full of candy in the handle, and a spinning fan attached to the star. When she pressed the button, it spun and lit up like a sparkler.

 

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