Grace turned her head to look at him. And even though she’d known he was right there, she shivered at his nearness. His eyes drilled into hers and his usual light humor was gone, a quiet contemplation in its place. And sex.
Grace might have been focusing on work for the past few years and her dates might have ranged from rare to nonexistent, but she knew the sex look when she saw it.
She felt that slow, slippery melting inside her. The heat that followed.
“Grace?”
Maybe it was because she was tired. Maybe because she’d been dateless, solely focused on work for so long now and Owen had awoken her to that fact. It didn’t matter. She was aware of it now. And her defenses were worn down, exhausted from pretending that she was fulfilled working twelve-hour days, that her vibrator was man enough for now.
Owen cupped the side of her face and Grace felt a long lick of pleasure. So soft, so light. So right. He leaned forward, his dark eyes never leaving hers, always giving her the chance to say no, to turn her face or shake her head. She didn’t and was rewarded with the press of his lips to hers, a light touch that left her sensitized and hungry for more.
She slipped her hand up the back of his neck, fingering the edges of his hair as she tugged him closer. But it felt so good, forgetting who she was supposed to be for a moment, enjoying the attentions of this shockingly handsome man, even if he wasn’t who she was looking for.
But she’d missed this. The warmth, the companionship, the sharp curl of pleasure of wanting and being wanted. And it was only a kiss. And only tonight. Not even worthy of a footnote in her five-year plan. She pulled his head toward her, showing him without words how much pressure she liked, enjoying the way their bodies and mouths fit together to achieve pleasure for both. And then, she gave herself over to the moment.
* * *
OWEN KNEW THE SECOND Grace stopped thinking, the very moment she let herself fall into what was happening between them. It was about time.
He reached an arm around her waist, hauled her toward him on the booth seat. Though they were already touching, Owen wanted to be closer, needed to feel more of her cool, luscious body pressed against his. Seriously, a man could go under with a body like this and smile the whole way down.
He was sure as hell smiling now.
She tasted like the wine she’d just sipped. Her lips soft, her mouth wet and warm. Welcoming. As if he should just settle in and stay for a while. He certainly wouldn’t complain.
Owen urged her closer, half onto his lap now. Their mouths pressed together, tongues tangling as they fought for more.
He wanted to taste more than just the wine. Her fingers twisted in his hair, tugging hard. It surprised him, her sudden amorousness. He’d expected her to warm up slowly, that she’d need coaxing and coddling before she embraced this sizzle between them.
Instead, she’d shocked him by going all in off the start line. As though she’d just been waiting for the signal. Hell, if he’d known that, he would have kissed her weeks ago. He put his hand on her knee, first to pull her fully onto his lap, second to run his hand beneath her pretty dress and up her silky thigh.
Grace moaned into his mouth and then tilted her head back, exposing her long, creamy throat. And what was a man supposed to do with a sight like that except taste?
Owen ran his tongue along her skin from her collarbone to her earlobe. He felt the rumbling sounds of her pleasure before he heard them. Rich, earthy sounds that only came from a woman who knew what she wanted in bed and wasn’t afraid to demand it.
Oh, how he loved a woman who was comfortable with herself in the bedroom.
His hand crept higher under her skirt. He was torn between taking his time to carefully explore her and letting her set the pace, which appeared to be hard, fast, now. Maybe they could do it her way now and his way later.
Yes, he liked the idea of doing it again later.
He ran his tongue back down Grace’s throat, biting when he reached the curve of her shoulder and pushing aside the thin strap of her dress. His hand spanned the width from her shoulder to the center of her chest. He looped his finger under the strap and dragged it down her arm, exposing her lacy cream bra.
Owen’s entire body reacted to the sight of her, just barely concealed by that tiny scrap of material. He bent his head, working his way down from her shoulder to the edge of the lace.
Her fingers dug into the back of his skull even as the rest of her softened, opening. For him. “Owen.” It wasn’t a command to stop or slow down. It was a demand to keep going, to give more.
A primal surge of ownership rocked through him. His. And no one else better dare touch. For that matter, they’d keep their eyes to themselves, too, if they knew what was good for them. He growled and dipped his tongue into her cleavage, letting go of the strap and cupping her breast.
Her nipple beaded against his palm, rising to attention, and he squeezed. She squirmed against him, sending shocks of pleasure through him.
Did he have a condom? He sure as hell hoped so because stopping due to lack of foresight might be the death of him.
He began turning her so she faced him. All she’d have to do was swing that long leg over his hip and they’d be in business. Nothing between them but a bit of clothing and Owen was an expert at dispensing of that.
He squeezed her breast again. They were larger than he’d realized. She did an impressive job concealing them as he considered himself a connoisseur when it came to that area of a woman’s body.
He liked legs and asses. Appreciated the feel of hair brushing across his skin and nails gripping tight. But in his personal opinion, there was nothing quite like a spectacular pair of breasts. And Grace’s were gold standard.
Owen had just begun to lower the edge of one lacy cup, eager to see what it was covering, when he heard the scrape of a heel on the floor. His head shot up and saw Grace’s cute blonde receptionist trying to sneak past the table, her head down, very obviously determined not to look at them.
He felt Grace shift restlessly, knew the second she opened her eyes to see what had taken his attention and absorbed the jolt of her body when she jerked back. “Hayley.”
Owen let go of her breast and smoothed the dress strap up her arm in one complete motion. There. Now she looked perfectly presentable. Except for the fact that his hand was still wedged between her thighs, but Hayley couldn’t see that from where she was.
He saw Hayley close her eyes and swallow as she kept walking. “I apologize, Grace.” Hayley kept her head averted, her blond hair hanging between her and them like a curtain. As though they could just pretend this was a perfectly normal situation. “I think my keys must have fallen out of my bag. I was hoping I could check the office, see if they might be there.”
“Of course.”
Of course. But Owen didn’t move, not his body or his hand. Not until Grace put her hand on top of his and moved it herself. And even then, Owen was sure to take full advantage of the trip back down her thigh. Just as delightful as the trip up.
Hayley had already walked to the office door, her back turned to them, the stiff line of her back indicating that whatever was happening behind her, she was just going to pretend she didn’t know about it.
“Hey.” Owen caught Grace around the waist before she slid off his lap and out of the booth. “Hurry back.”
But when she looked at him, her expression was different. Gone was that soft, sensual stare that told him she’d be a warm and inventive lover. Instead, it was all business. “Owen, I’m...” Her throat bobbed. “I think I should go, too.”
He’d have liked to pretend to be surprised, but he’d known. The second he’d seen Hayley—the second Grace had seen her—he’d known this was how the night would end. Not with a bang but a whimper. Literally. “I’ll walk you out.” Let it never be said that Owen Ford wasn’t
a gentleman.
As he shifted to help her off his lap, he stroked a hand down her hip. He was a gentleman, not a saint.
She shot him a look. “I can find my own way.”
Hayley remained a few feet away, head tilted so that her hair formed a curtain again, as though they could all just pretend this was perfectly normal. Owen leaned closer to whisper in Grace’s ear. “Then when can I see you again?”
Dinner, drinks, a movie, a walk in the park. All of the above if she’d let him.
She shook her head. “Owen. This can’t happen again.”
He blinked. Not what he expected. “And why is that?” He kept his tone light. He was good at light.
“Because it never should have happened in the first place. I was tired.”
He kissed her, both because he wanted to and to stop her from continuing that thought. He didn’t care if Hayley saw or not. He felt the slow tilt of Grace’s body toward him and kissed her deeper. When she pulled back, she was breathing hard. But Owen spoke first.
“You might be tired, but that isn’t why you kissed me. If you don’t want to see me, Grace, you can tell me. I’m a big boy. I can take it. But don’t insult me by lying.”
Her eyes widened before she looked down, her lashes sweeping against her cheeks. He wanted to brush his thumb across them. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” But she didn’t say what she was sorry for. She stepped back, her heels clacking across the floor as she headed toward the office before he could ask.
She reappeared less than a minute later, her coat on, bag over her shoulder and Hayley in tow. Owen didn’t ask if they’d found the keys. She stopped in front of him while Hayley continued to the door.
He noted that Grace couldn’t hold his gaze. She kept glancing away, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Here’s the office key. If we’ve left anything behind or there are any problems with cleanup, please don’t hesitate to call.”
Please don’t hesitate? She was talking as if he was an acquaintance, a person she’d met in passing whose name she’d know only because she’d put it in her file and reminded herself before the meeting. Not like the man who’d made her burn, who’d had her legs spread and her only inches away from achieving orgasm. Maybe only an inch away. His hand had been pretty high.
But Owen simply nodded. There would be plenty of other opportunities to remind Grace of how she’d melted for him. She didn’t seem like the kind to melt for just anyone. “It was a great night. Thank you.”
He purposefully didn’t indicate just what he was thanking her for. She could think about that. Judging from the sudden blush on her cheeks, she got it. “Of course, Mr. Ford.” So he was back to being a Mr. was he? “All part of the service.”
She tightened her grip on her purse, gave him a brief smile and went to meet up with Hayley. He watched them walk out, Hayley turning only to give him an apologetic smile and polite goodbye, Grace not turning at all. But his eyes followed the swing of her hips anyway. Now that he knew how they felt under his palm, he couldn’t stop thinking about them. And her legs. And her breasts.
The door clicked shut behind them. Owen leaned his head against the leather back of the booth seat, exhaled and wished he’d had the foresight to lock that door earlier.
CHAPTER SIX
GRACE SCOLDED HERSELF as she stepped out of the wine bar with Hayley. Foolish. Insanity. Wasn’t this exactly the kind of thing she lectured her staff about all the time? All those instructions, all the rules that promised that anyone who found them too difficult to follow would be terminated. And in all her years in the business—not just working for herself, but even when she’d worked for others—Grace had always been careful to maintain a sterling reputation, to display cool professionalism no matter the situation and her own feelings or emotions.
And with only the most token resistance, she’d allowed Owen to sneak past those careful defenses and slide his tongue into her mouth and his hand up her thigh. Worse, she’d enjoyed it.
“Hayley, I’d like to explain.”
Hayley darted a quick look before turning her attention back to the sidewalk in front of them. “You don’t have to explain anything, Grace. I didn’t see anything.”
The sound of their high heels clicked along the cement. There were still a fair number of people on the street although it was late on a Sunday night. But Vancouver’s downtown core had a population density twice that of London, meaning there were always people out walking their dogs or running to the store for a forgotten and necessary item.
“We both know that’s not true.”
Hayley didn’t look up from the sidewalk. “It could be.”
Grace stopped walking. A woman wearing leggings and a sneer sniffed as she led her dog around them. Grace ignored her and her fashion atrocity. Leggings were not pants. No matter how many people wore them as such. “Hayley. You don’t have to pretend. You walked in on me and...” Her throat grew tight. Grace swallowed and forced the embarrassing words out. “You walked in on me and Mr. Ford in a compromising position. It was an error in judgment that I’d like to apologize for.”
Really, she should probably fire herself.
“O-o-kay.” Hayley dragged the word out as she stopped and looked back at Grace. “Apology accepted?”
“Thank you.” Grace nodded and started walking again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this at the office.”
For the first time since walking in on her, Hayley met her eyes. “I wouldn’t, Grace. I would never do that.” She meant it, too, which eased some of the pressure in Grace’s lungs.
Hayley was so young, Grace realized. Still finding her way through life. And Grace prided herself on being the kind of person a young woman could look up to. She hadn’t been born with wealth or prestige. She’d had to pay her own way through school and for everything she currently held dear. But she’d done it. Shown that with hard work and determination, there were opportunities to be had.
Granted, she hadn’t exactly been hard done by, either. But still, she’d made a nice little place in life for herself. She wasn’t willing to throw it all away over hormones. Not even raging ones.
“This just proves that I still have life lessons to learn, too,” she said to Hayley as they waited for the walk signal. Hayley nodded amiably. Grace would like to think she’d learned plenty in her time, but clearly some things hadn’t sunk all the way in. She didn’t say more, like how it would be easier if Owen didn’t make her head feel all muddled, her emotions confused and her body on fire. Like how she had a plan and Owen was messing with the timing of it. Like how even if the timing had been right, Owen wasn’t.
Grace believed in keeping a separation between herself and her staff. A thin wall of authority that just made business easier. She didn’t want them to be her friends. She wanted them to be her team. It was a fine line, but an important one. And she’d already nearly destroyed it once tonight. She didn’t need to go any further down that path by unloading her myriad confusions on poor Hayley’s shoulders.
She pulled out her cell and checked the time. “I’ll call you a cab, Hayley.”
“Oh. No.” Hayley stopped, a look of discomfort crossing her pretty face. Grace knew Hayley lived with two other roommates in a less expensive part of town and that she didn’t have a lot of money for luxuries. “I’ll just catch the SkyTrain.”
“It’s late.” And while Vancouver was an incredibly safe city given its size, bad things still happened. Grace wasn’t about to let Hayley head for home on her own on the transit system that didn’t even have a driver to offer protection. “The company will pay for it.” Thinking about it now, Grace wondered if she should always offer cab fare on these late nights. A small perk that would encourage loyalty and safety.
She flagged a passing taxi before Hayley could offer any further refusals and handed her some cash.
She’d have to set up a system for the staff to turn in credit card receipts for reimbursement. “See you tomorrow, Hayley.”
“’Bye, Grace. Have a good night.”
The cab pulled away from the curb, leaving Grace with a single block left to cover on her own before she reached her building. She passed three more dog walkers and a pair of tourists who asked where they might go for a nightcap.
She should be grateful that Hayley had interrupted them before things went further. Grace’s face grew warm as she thought about how easily she’d allowed herself to respond to Owen. But however embarrassing it might have been getting caught with a man’s hand up her skirt, it would have been far worse to have to face the next few months knowing that she’d slept with a client’s brother. What had she been thinking? Obviously she hadn’t been.
Grace pushed open the door to her apartment, glad she hadn’t run into anyone on her way up. She wasn’t close with any of her neighbors, but she knew them by name and would stop for a chat if she ran into them while she was out. Once there had even been a quick drink. But that hadn’t gone anywhere, either. She wasn’t about to date someone in her building. Because what if it didn’t work out and then they still had to see each other every day in the lobby? Awkward.
She slipped off her shoes, flexing her toes, and carried the footwear into the bedroom, where she put them away in her closet. She took out her jeans and shirt from earlier and tossed them into her laundry hamper. Her sneakers went on the shelf below her high heels. And her dress went into a garment bag destined for the dry cleaners. It probably didn’t need it, but Grace always sent her clothes to the cleaners after a function. She created parties, food-and-drink extravaganzas where spills and stains were part of the pleasure. Not to mention the smoke and other scents that clung to material.
Wearing only her bra and panties, Grace padded into the master bathroom. She’d heard that bathrooms and kitchens were the rooms that sold houses and she could admit it had been true for her. Growing up, she’d had to share a bathroom with the entire family. It hadn’t been terrible, except for the fact that they only had a tub and she’d had long, thick hair that was hard to wash. She’d had to get up at six in the morning just to make sure she had enough time to rinse it out properly before Sky started pounding on the door demanding to use the toilet.
One More Night Page 8