With Mikalo in my sights, I dreamt of this man, this hairy-chested stranger with the five o'clock shadow and rough palms and throbbing hardness, on top of me, inside me, stealing my breath with each thrust, each plunge, each desperate push and grind as he drove deeper, his teeth cruelly biting my breast, gnawing on my tender nipple, his spit running down my flesh, his arms crushing me tight as I gripped his sweaty curls.
Mikalo still watched, the glass to his lips, his hand still in his lap.
The music grew faster still, the climax approaching. All these writhing, bouncing, celebrating bodies around us picking up their own pace as they laughed and kissed and celebrated.
My breathing grew ragged, the familiar thump-thump-thump growing, my wetness spreading.
The stranger's eyes were almost closed, the pupils unfocused as he gasped and grinded against me, beads of sweat running down his neck and onto his chest.
And onto mine.
He held me closer, the large hand on the small of my back pulling me tight as we swayed, the beating of his heart pounding against my chest.
I was close, the thump-thump-thumping growing, my thighs quivering, my heart in my throat, my own eyes closing as the wave receded, receded, and receded still, the storm approaching, threatening to crash here and now in this crowded room of strangers, my Mikalo watching only feet away.
A cheer rose as the music reached its crescendo, a round of deafening applause breaking the spell as the couples broke their dance, the magic interrupted by hugs and laughter and yet more glasses of ouzo.
And we broke our dance, the stranger and I.
His lips paused, close to mine, our breath hot. He then smiled, his grip loosening as, bending forward, he gave me a quick, friendly kiss, and then gently pulled away.
And he was gone, stalking toward a pretty Greek girl with black hair and almond eyes, her long arms at once wrapping around him as he kissed her deep, pressing into her, the two of them quickly leaving, their hands pawing at each other.
Mikalo approached, his lids heavy, his hand discreetly tucked into his pocket to hide and grip his hardness.
Oh god, what was I going to say? Here I was flipping out over him talking to his gorgeous friend or my gorgeous friend and then I go and basically bang a hot stranger in front of all his friends.
Way to go, Ronan.
"Mikalo --" I began, searching for the words to quiet his anger.
"My Grace," he breathed as he pulled me to him.
He wasn't angry.
"Yes," I quickly said, his hardness pressing into me.
"It is best we go --"
I nodded.
"Now."
Chapter Thirty-Two
Grabbing his hand, I pulled him along.
Our need for each other had chased us from the cab and into the park, his raging desire and my thumping, pulsating, pumping wetness unable to make it the four blocks to the safety of my house and the comfort of my bed.
I needed him now.
And he needed me.
Veering away from the trail, we tread along the grass and into the trees, into the dark, the leaves crunching under our feet.
"I do not think --" he whispered, suddenly doubtful.
"Don't think," I interrupted, turning to him.
And deeper into the dark we went.
Approaching a large, wide tree, we stopped. I turned him, pushed him against the thick trunk and, my hands at his pants, unzipped and reached in to feel his hardness.
Yes.
I kneeled, bringing him forward, the warmth of him bathing my face as I caressed him, my nose inhaling his scent, my lips kissing the throbbing flesh, my tongue then tasting him as he sighed.
He was in my mouth.
I stroked him, my fist gripping him as I lapped and licked and sucked, working him as far down my throat as I could before moving back, teasing him, tasting his excitement as it collected drip by drip on the tip.
His breathing grew rapid. Grabbing my hair in his hands, he pumped his hips, forcing himself deeper, the pace quickening, his need growing.
I glanced up.
His head was back, his eyes closed, his other hand resting on his chest, the long fingers having absentmindedly slipped between the buttons of his shirt to rub the soft skin of his chest.
I wanted him inside me.
Standing, I slipped off my panties, tossing them to the side, and, grabbing him, turned, my back against the tree.
When he came I wanted to see his face. Hear his sigh, feel his breath on my skin as he gasped, hold him close as his body trembled.
Somewhere nearby the leaves crunched as someone walked.
Of course there were others in the park. We were hardly alone. And this was dangerous.
Very dangerous.
I grabbed his hardness in my fist, drawing it close, the warmth of my wetness wrapping his thickness as he inched near.
"Do it," I breathed in his ear as he moved close. "Do it quick."
In one movement he was inside, his width again pushing me close to panic.
I breathed deep, steadying myself, holding him close as I inhaled and then exhaled.
And then I moved my hips toward him, wrapping my hands around his waist to grab his ass and force him deeper.
He started to move, withdrawing only to pause before plunging deep.
I guided him, insistent and needy, making him move quicker, my ache for him catching in my throat as I swallowed my gasps, willing myself quiet as he picked up the pace, his hips slapping against me as he dipped his head low, his breath lost in my cleavage, the scent of his sweaty hair in my nose.
More leaves crunching nearby.
He moved faster, deeper, harder.
I gasped.
His hand was over my mouth, shushing me quiet.
He moved faster still. Greedy, needy, frantic.
My legs started to shake, my breasts rising and falling with each hurried breath, the thump-thump-thumping now a constant roar as the wave crested and crashed, my hands on him and then the tree behind me and then him again, my groan lost in the palm of his large hand as he drove deep once, twice, and then three time before suddenly stopping.
I felt him throbbing, his hips moving slowly as he emptied into me, his hand over my mouth, his lips close as he sighed, his eyes on mine, his face shining with sweat in the moonlight.
Suddenly he was out. He pulled my skirt down, pulled his pants up and, quickly, moved close as if we had only shared a kiss.
From around the corner he came, a lone man walking his dog.
Mikalo turned and waved.
The man paused and, leash in hand, waved back, our sweaty skin and heaving sighs and deep breathing lost in the shadow of the tree and the dark of night.
"Nice night, isn't it?" he called out as he walked past.
"It is perfect," Mikalo answered calmly, turning to me with a smile.
"It is a perfect night."
Chapter Thirty-Three
My house was just ahead, Mikalo and I walking hand in hand, grinning at our boldness, our bravery, and our success at not being caught.
"I can't believe --" I began.
"I wanted you, my Grace," he interrupted. "I could not wait."
"But I've never done anything like that before."
And then I laughed.
"Oh my oh my oh my," I then said. "I think it's the ouzo."
"And last night, it was the champagne, yes?"
I glanced at him.
"No, Mikalo," I said gently. "It's you. Always and only you."
My hand held his tighter.
"I'm learning to trust," I then said.
"Yes?" he asked.
"I think so," I said. "I mean, I don't mind if you talk to other girls or whatever. I'm beginning to get that, you know, you're going to come back and be mine.
"So it's okay if a pretty girl gets your attention for a little while. I don't mind."
"This is a good thing?" he asked, his brow briefly furrowing with worry.
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"Oh, yes, absolutely! I'm not going crazy anymore, you know? So, it's good. It's very good."
He looked toward the park across the street.
"My Grace, she goes crazy at the thought of me talking with a pretty girl."
Shrugging, he lightly laughed.
"Why should this worry my Grace?"
This wasn't going the way I wanted it to. I needed to fix it, and quick.
"Mikalo, my Mikalo," I said. "We've talked about this. You want me to trust you. And what I'm telling you is that I'm there. Or at least closer. This is a good thing and I'm proud of it. Very proud.
"Heck, you can even spend the whole party talking to Deni and I wouldn't mind."
"Yes, I spoke with your friend. And this bothered you?"
"Well, a little," I said carefully. "But not now. Like I said, you could spend all night talking with her and I'd be fine. Really, I would."
"But this friend, this Deni, she is someone you trust, yes?"
"Of course!"
"So why would I not be able to share my stories with her? Share my laughter? What would be wrong with that?"
"Nothing, Mikalo. That's what I'm telling you. I'm feeling a lot stronger now. About you, about me, about us.
"This is a good thing," I repeated, squeezing his hand.
"This should not even be a talk, my Grace," he said. "This should not even be a thought in your head. A friend, a friend you love, would not be someone to fear. That friend would not hurt your heart. And I would not.
"You know this, yes?" he asked.
"I do," I said. "I do now. And that's what I'm trying to say. I'm getting it. I'm finally learning to trust."
He grew quiet.
We walked.
I should have kept my mouth shut, I realized.
Way to go, Ronan. Nice way to destroy an awesome night of dirty lovemaking in the park. Nice way to ruin the mood and get him pissed off at you, all in one fell swoop.
Like I said, I should have kept my mouth shut.
"Your friend, she is very unhappy," he said. "You know this?"
I nodded, keeping my mouth shut.
"No, you do not," he said, glancing at me. "You do not, my Grace. It is not a sadness she shares with words, but it is there. In her eyes, her smile, the way she moves.
"It is a deep sadness which cannot be quieted by money or things. It is a sadness which cannot grow calm with the giving of one's body.
"It is a sadness of the heart and of the spirit. Maybe of the soul.
"This is a sadness you do not know, my Grace. And with my smile, my laughter, my heart, I did the small thing I could to help your friend enjoy her party.
"Tonight, you dance. It is beautiful. It is sexy. I love to watch you and I want to make love to you. I do not care that you dance with a man. I do not care that he hungers for you. Or that he holds your body close.
"I know you would not want him --"
"No, I wouldn't," I interrupted. "I don't."
"And I would not want another woman. Even one as beautiful as the friend I spoke with, this friend of yours. It was a simple talk with laughter and smiles, my Grace.
"That you would find this something to not trust, it makes me sad."
I had to speak.
"What I'm trying to say, Mikalo, is that I do trust that. I do trust you. And if you were to spend another party with Deni or anyone else who is sad, I would still trust you."
We rounded the corner to my house, the wide expanse of Central Park West and the ominous shadow of Central Park now behind us, the slender tree-lined street in front of us.
He stopped and turned.
Holding me near, he looked down at me and deep into my eyes.
"This trust, it is still an issue. And without this, it is difficult to give you my heart."
I started to speak, but he shushed me.
"I will teach you trust, my Grace. If I do not, then there can be no way forward. And this, we must find."
And then he turned and walked away.
Chapter Thirty-Four
"No matter what I say, it's the wrong thing."
Bill watched me, his fingers resting at his chin as he listened.
Today was Thursday. D-day.
The day when Mikalo was scheduled to meet with Blazen and Jeffords.
This was it.
Or, rather, it had been it, the meeting having finished half an hour ago.
And now Bill sat across from me as I talked and talked and talked. Anything to keep him from telling me whether they had decided yes or no on Mikalo.
I just don't think I could handle either one right now.
Best I live for a moment longer in the delicious delusion of not knowing, pretending my Mikalo and his Grace could continue on as they were forever and ever.
"I tell him I'm starting to trust --"
"Really?" he asked. "That's huge for you, Ronan."
"Yeah, I know, right? But that sends him into a, oh, I don't know, a something about how I still don't trust him."
"You don't --"
"And how his heart needs to trust --"
"It does" he interrupted again.
"And how he can't give his heart to someone who doesn't trust him."
"Well, of course he can't. Would you?"
"Would I what?" I asked.
"Give your heart to a man you couldn't trust."
I paused, the answer a simple one.
But to admit that, no, I wouldn't, would be admitting defeat.
Defeat from what?
"I wouldn't," I quickly said. "You're right."
He paused, his fingers still at his chin, and then spoke.
"If you'd given me a chance to finish what I was going to say at Deni's party --"
I groaned.
"I am so, so sorry for losing it, Bill."
He held up a hand, a small laugh in his throat.
"No, no, no. It's high time someone shot down Miss Abigail White. The hypocrite's had it coming for years.
"By the way, I take it you're staying?" he asked.
Right. Abigail's suggestion I chuck myself under the bus for Mikalo.
Yeah, that wasn't happening.
"Don't be silly, Bill. Of course I'm staying.
And that bitch better watch out 'cause next time I'm coming armed with a bucket of water, flying monkeys or not."
He laughed.
"God, I love you," he said between giggles.
"No," he continued, quieting his laughter. "What I was going to say the other night, Ronan, was this Mikalo seems to be the real deal for you. He's kind, he's loving, he's honest and decent. He's not going to want you for your money and, dare I say it, I wouldn't be a damn bit surprised if he loved you."
I laughed.
"Bill, you've spent, what, four hours with the guy? And that's including interviews? That's a pretty bold thing to say for someone who doesn't know him. Or us.
"I mean, my god, I've only known him less than a week. Less than a week! And here I am giving my heart to him and talking a mile a minute so you won't be able to jump in and tell me you've chosen someone else."
"We haven't chosen someone else, Ronan. And what does knowing him for less than a week have to do with anything?"
"Bill --"
"I'm serious. Say it's been five days, okay? In five days, you've gone from someone who did nothing but work to someone who fits work into her life. The way it should be. You've become someone who truly smiles, who truly laughs, who has real hope and is sincerely, really and truly looking forward to something.
"That's a lot to accomplish in five days. And that says a lot right there."
"But what if I'm wrong and he leaves and I'm destroyed. Because it would, Bill, it would destroy me."
The tears came to my eyes.
"And that scares the hell out of me," I said, finishing, wiping them away.
"Then he touched your heart," he answered quietly. "And that's not such a bad thing, is it?"
I took a deep breath.
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"Okay," I said, drying my eyes. "Out with it. What's the decision."
"We made him an offer," Bill said as he stood to go. "A very generous offer."
I wanted to shout and scream and jump for joy.
"So he'll be joining us, I take it," I said instead, speaking as calmly as I could.
Pausing at the door, he turned and looked back as he spoke.
"He said he doesn't know. And then he thanked us and said he'd let us know Monday or Tuesday what he decides."
Chapter Thirty-Five
I had run to Deni with the news, of course. Had been eager to bounce the whys and whats and what is he thinkings and all those other questions rolling through my head off her. See what she thought. What her experience was telling her.
In all honesty, I'd rather do that than call him and leave a message.
Again.
Or send a text.
Again.
Do something else, something different than what I would usually do.
Besides, no better way to drive Mikalo back to Greece than by butting my nose in.
Best to hear what Deni had to say.
Right away I knew something was up.
"Mikalo had his meeting," I'd said into the phone an hour ago. "Blazen made an offer, a generous offer, and Mikalo thanked him and said he'd let him know Monday or Tuesday. Can you believe that?
"Anyway, are you free? Can I come by and just, I don't know, hang out or something? I'm going crazy here."
A long pause.
"Sure," she finally said, obviously distracted. "But not the apartment. Meet me at that little diner on the corner."
"Okay," I had said. "The one near Lexington and --"
"Oh god no," she interrupted. "The clean one."
"Gotcha."
And now here we sat, my coffee untouched before me, Deni working her way through her third cup.
Mikalo was right. Watching her now, I could see the sadness behind her eyes.
I could kick myself for not seeing it sooner.
Then again, Deni's advice from nights ago still ringing in my ears, I was now willingly taking my head out of my ass and looking around.
Mikalo's Grace Page 10