Falling Grace

by Melissa Shirley

  “Turn around and go back the way you came.”

  After a few swearwords as she attempted a three point turn that ended up being a fifteen pointer on the narrow road, and a quick consult with cellular GPS, she finally angled the car onto the street in front of my apartment. Within minutes of our return, she’d booked a flight for herself and Faith, dumped out a whole bottle of vodka and one half full of wine, arranged my apartment into a semi-working living space, and unpacked most of the boxes still towering over my sofa.

  “Jeez. Lay off the caffeine, Char.” But I had to admit, thanks to the speed and verve with which she found homes for all my things, she’d provided me with room to move and work I had been without.

  Chapter 23

  I made the two hour round trip to the airport, shoved them and my evidence onto a plane, and returned home as Jamie walked up my front steps. “Hey.”

  He rewarded me with a bone-melting smile. “Hello. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

  Forget him? Seriously? The man obviously didn’t have a clue. “Nope. Had to get rid of my sisters.”

  He frowned.

  “Not like with a shovel and a shallow grave. Think airplane.”

  “My line of work makes me hear things a little differently.”

  “See crime where there is none?”

  “It’s a character flaw.” He grinned just a little and looked at me from under a veil of thick eyelashes. “Or maybe it’s my super hero thing.”

  I unlocked the door and he followed me in. In one hand, he held a small bouquet of wildflowers he’d obviously picked from someone’s garden as they still had globs of dirt at the base of the stems, and a movie. In the other, a box of microwave popcorn. He looked around the now wide-open space of my home, turned in a full circle, and raised both eyebrows. “Wow. You do this for me?”

  I lowered my eyes. “If I say yes and it’s a lie, even if I want it to be true, is that bad?”

  His nose wrinkled as he nodded.

  “Okay. My sister did it. I have no clue where she put anything.”

  “She didn’t leave a map?”

  I shook my head. “She’ll be back in a couple days. I only have to survive until then.”

  Together we popped the popcorn then he hooked up the television to the DVD player. We sat back on the sofa watching bubbles of static roll across the screen. “Are all the cords in the right places?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t a clue. I’m not mechanical.”

  I laughed. A real laugh for the first time in a long time. “Why didn’t you say so?” I snapped the power button to the TV. “We could talk.”

  “Okay.”

  To buy a little time, I chewed the inside of my cheek. I didn’t want to tell him about the phone call with Blane, but…“Your brother called me today.”

  He nodded and looked away. “Did he?”

  “He said he wants to talk.”

  “Do you?” He pointed those beautiful eyes at me. “Want to talk to him?”

  I took the bowl of popcorn off the space between us and set it in my lap then scooted closer. “No.” I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and tugged until his lips hovered an inch above mine. “I want to stay right here with you.”

  I leaned forward and kissed him softly, slowly, drawing out the touch into minutes rather than the quick second I’d planned. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, caressed the side of my throat with his thumb, the touch almost as erotic as his tongue teasing the inside of my mouth. I wanted more, to touch him, feel his body against mine, and hear him whisper my name in a way only he ever had. I had it bad.

  When we parted, popcorn spilled all over my carpet and, as he leaned down to pick it up, his hand brushed my leg. Someone had forgotten to tell my hormones we were still in kissing only mode.

  I stood and walked to the TV. “I’ll try to fix this.”

  His total focus on popcorn retrieval gave me a full minute to admire his form. With each reach of his arm, his muscles bunched and relaxed. He worked with such a fixed concentration, hunting under the sofa for wayward kernels, sliding his hand over the cream colored area rug to locate ones that blended in well enough the naked eye could have missed them. An army of dancers could probably have spun their way across the floor and I wouldn’t have been able to tear my gaze away from him.

  After a lovely few moments of adoring his body, I checked my chin for drool and began dealing with a sailor’s knot of wires. With a few new swear words under my belt, I stepped back and turned the TV back on. Sounds and light filled the room as the symphony of music set to motion picture filled the air.

  “Shall I make more popcorn?”

  He rose to his full height, bowl in hand, and I shook my head, grabbed a throw off the chair, and advanced toward him. With his head cocked to one side, he looked down at me as I lay on the sofa and patted the spot behind me. “There’s room for two.” If we squished together, mashed our bodies in tight, and he held me from falling off the edge.

  Without a sound, he rolled in behind me, wrapped both arms around me, and spooned his legs with mine. “You smell nice. Like flowers and sunshine.”

  I pressed a kiss against the bend of his arm and wiggled my bottom against him. “Stop distracting me. I’m watching a movie.”

  By the end, I’d shifted and squirmed enough that every cell in my body stood at full alert. He’d tried moving away, but the back of the sofa provided little refuge. As the credits of the most ignored movie ever played in my living room rolled across the screen, there was no hiding how badly he wanted me. I spun around, flung my leg over his hip, and waited.

  “Did you like the movie?”

  “I don’t know.” His hoarse whisper thrilled the little seductress inside me, and I rubbed against him again. His eyes closed and his fingers curled into the back of my shirt. “You are making it difficult not to carry you into your bedroom.”

  “Good.” I couldn’t move any closer without crawling into his clothes with him.

  He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear then let his finger trail down my chin and up to trace my lower lip. “I don’t want to just fall into bed with you. I want to know you, build something to last longer than a few hours in your bedroom.”

  “A few hours?” My throat slammed shut and my brain focused on the promise behind those words.

  Hours. Not minutes. A bed. Not a car or a car hood.

  “I’m extremely thorough.”

  Oh, God. “Well, I’m all about put up or shut up. It’s a personal motto actually.”

  “Grace…”

  I countered with a breathy, “Jamie.”

  Our lips came together in an explosion of fire, a collapse of the space-time continuum. Suspended in minutes, hours, days, a world passing by that didn’t include me. I lost myself in the sensation of pressing intimately against him.

  Spurred on by the moan against my throat, I slid my hands under the warm cotton of his shirt, walking my fingers up his abs to his chest. His lips branded my skin. His body caressed mine.

  He lifted the hem of my T-shirt, and tired of waiting for him to do more than brush his knuckles across my skin, I yanked it over my head.

  “So impatient.” He grinned as I pawed his skin, shoved his shirt out of the way. He caught my hand, brought it to his lips, and ran his tongue along the inside of my palm. A symphony of sound erupted in my ears, drumbeats of passion mixed with strings of awareness. Every touch, every kiss plunged me deeper into the sensations created by his body, his taste, the way he inspired my complete and total surrender.

  I quivered in places I didn’t know had the capability, and when he swept his fingers over my collarbone down to the swell of my breast, then followed the trail with his mouth, I threw my head back, pushing into him, wishing the barrier of clothing between us would evaporate or melt away.

  He pulled back, breathed softly against my skin, and whispered, “Have you ever been with someone who l
oves you so completely you’re the only thing they can think of? Someone who needs to see your smile? Who dreams of you even when he’s awake?”

  I opened my lids to find him staring at me, desire burning behind his eyes. Mesmerized by the soft tone of his voice, I shook my head.

  “Then tonight will be a first for both of us.” I swallowed hard and he continued. “I’ve never felt this way before, Grace.”

  He captured my reply with a kiss, and in a move inspired by some Victorian romance novel, swooped me into his arms without breaking the contact, then carried me to the bedroom. I slid down his body until my toes curled into the plush carpet beside my bed.

  His eyes raked over my body as he tugged me forward by a belt loop. “I’m not my brother, Grace. If he’s the one you want…”

  I shushed his words with a finger over his lips. “I don’t want him. I want you. Right here. Right now. And tomorrow and the next day.”

  “And after that?”

  “Yes.” My heart thumped an erratic beat so loud I wanted to cover it to shush the pounding. Instead, I closed my eyes as he lowered his head, brushed my hair away from my neck, and kissed each of the light bruises left there.

  “I’m sorry he hurt you.”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  “No.” His soft smile preceded a softer kiss. “It brought us here, to this moment. You are worth every minute.” He captured my mouth, then claimed it, branded me with his lips, his hands, his eyes.

  I reached for the button on his jeans, and he caught my hands between his. “No. Tonight is for you.”

  I grinned, appreciating the sentiment, not so much the timing. “Well, the equipment I require is in there.” I pointed a gaze at the bulge in his pants.

  He shook his head, a cat-who-ate-the kibble grin tilting his lips. “We’ll get there.”

  I’d never known such reverence or tenderness, such worship as that which shone through his eyes as he explored my body with his hands, his eyes, his mouth. With slow, agonizing steps, he stripped me of the rest of my clothes, then stretched out beside me, tracing a finger down my stomach, circling my belly button before trailing lower. My body burned beneath the surface of my skin. I ached for more.

  I reached out to prod him along and he stopped, held my hand to his lips, and pressed a kiss against the inside of my wrist. “Be still. Let me take my time with you, know you.” He raised his eyebrows in question and I nodded.

  Every touch took an eternity of anticipation as each moment passed into the next and he continued to tease me into an oblivion where only he existed. His mouth blazed a path from my collarbone to my hips, kissing and swirling his tongue over my skin in white hot passes. As I was almost ready to beg for more, he lowered his head between my legs, and I couldn’t form a thought. I writhed beneath him, and he braced a hand on each side of me, holding me still as he continued making magic with his mouth.

  Unable to do more than pant, my world narrowed to pinpoints of light followed by starbursts and an explosion of my every atom. His name rang in my ears, and when I could finally form a thought, he lowered his head again.

  This time, he moved slower, making love with his tongue, his fingers. His soft moans vibrated against me as he lapped and suckled at my skin. I couldn’t hold still, begged for more. I needed so much I hadn’t realized until that moment. With the blanket fisted in my hands, I struggled to remain still. I shattered into a million pieces, and finally, he shoved his pants away.

  When he covered my body with his, I could do no more than cling to him, hang on to the precious minutes of being cherished, caressed, and massaged until the frenzy of desire took over. Even then, I held on to him, heart pounding, breaths coming in short gasps, as desire consumed me, pushed me over the edge, and I cried out, more intense, more alive than I’d ever felt.

  I shuddered and floated back to my body as he trembled over me.

  He kissed my shoulder and rolled away, sliding an arm under my neck, tucking me in at his side.

  “Very thorough.”

  He closed his eyes. “I’m not finished with you. Not near finished.”

  I drew a nail over the line of hair trailing down his stomach, then moved back toward his chest. “Tell me something about you only I’ll know.”

  “Our secret code?”

  “If I need it, maybe.”

  He trapped my hand under his, held it there on his stomach. “Okay. Something no one else knows.” I nodded. “I went to law school at the same time Blane did.”

  I shook my head. “I think Blane probably knows that, and your law professors, maybe even a few other students.” A hundred girls with a sleazy twin fantasy?

  His hair mussed against my pillow as he nodded. “Yes. That isn’t my big secret.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I had to take a test, a big one. And I was in this place in my mind where I had no idea what I wanted to be. I’d only gone into law because of Blane. He wanted to do it together and start our own firm. He had our lives planned, beginning to end.” His thumb stroked my palm as he spoke and he stared at a spot on the wall. “He blames me for quitting, for failing that test, for his being a prosecutor instead of raking in the big money.”

  “Why does he blame you?”

  “I ruined his dreams.” His lips twisted and he waited a moment before speaking again. “But I didn’t fail. I used that test, that lie, to get out of law school, but the truth is I passed.”

  “And you never told him?”

  He shook his head. “Now, tell me your secrets.”

  I laughed a bubbly little sound that came out more giggle than usual. “I drink too much to have secrets. I’m chatty.”

  “I know.”

  Uh-oh. “You know?” This could be bad for me. I sat up, closed my eyes, and said a quick prayer. “What do you know?”

  “Many, many things I bet you don’t remember telling me. Things that make me like you more.”

  Heat seared its way through my veins, congregating in my cheeks. “And less, I suspect.”

  “No.”

  “For example?”

  His mouth twitched from side to side. “This is supposed to be you telling me things.”

  “My boobs are fake.” I nodded. “Probably not a big secret, but I didn’t take a billboard out to advertise the idea, either. Now, tell me all the things I told you while I was too drunk to know better.”

  “Well, you did tell me that. You didn’t tell me what compelled you to get them.”

  Damn me for bringing that up. “It’s a long story.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Okay. Here it is. I’ve always been tall, with these ridiculous long arms”--I held them out in front of me--“no curves, flat chest. I was pathetic. I never wore makeup or dresses. The only shoes I had were meant for running and everything from here up”--I moved my hand from my waist toward my neck--“was as flat as Illinois farmland.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that.”

  “Oh, it’s true. I was so busy in college trying to be the best in my class, I didn’t care. All my friends deserted me, so I didn’t have to compete with anyone. I had my sisters, but they probably love me more without makeup or good hair. Anyway, after law school, I worked for this guy back home. My first case was a plastic surgeon getting divorced. He didn’t want to part with his money. So, I fought like I was protecting a kid or something and I won. As he left the courthouse the last day, he slipped a business card into my hand and said since I’d helped him, he’d be happy to return the favor.”

  “And a fairy god mother came into your room one night and transformed you into what you are now?”

  “No. I was completely freaked out about that help me thing. I’d always been a pretty happy girl my whole life, but if a complete stranger thought I needed help, maybe there was something to it. I looked in the mirror, really looked. My clothes fit wrong, my hair was scraggly and this color of blonde that wasn’t actually blo
nde, but too light to be brown, just icky. So, I celebrated my first win with a makeover. Then, not completely happy with my new look, I called that client and made an appointment. A couple weeks later, I bought my first bra that wasn’t a trainer.”

  I gasped as he moved his hand up, caressed my nipple through the sheet. “Then, with my new look, I needed a new wardrobe. Suddenly, I had some confidence. Sometimes, I still see that scraggly mess in the mirror.” Maybe that explained why I’d easily fallen into bed with Blane, even though he treated me as nothing more than a body to use for his amusement. “Anyway, that’s my big secret.” My words broke as he replaced his fingers with his mouth. Story time was over.

  * * * *

  I stretched, rolled my head around on my neck, and sat up, pulling more than my share of the blanket with me. Memories of the night flooded back to me, talking, touching, kissing. I had a lot to smile about.

  He sat up, leaned on one hand, his chest against my back, and kissed my shoulder.

  “Good morning.”

  “It’s afternoon, love. We didn’t make it to sleep until morning.”

  “I love lazy Sundays.” His lips skimmed my cheek as I turned into his kiss. “Do you have to work today?”

  “Not so far.”

  “Wanna go for a run?” Rejuvenated by my overnight athletics, I had a hankering to feel the sun on my face, to breathe some fresh air.

  “It’s raining.”

  As if cued by his words, a loud clap of thunder split the air, and I jumped. He tugged me back toward the pillow, wrapped his arm around me, and I snuggled in close.

  “Okay, staying in is fine with me.”

  “Mmm. Me too.” He ran his hand down my arm and laced our fingers together.

  “I could make us some breakfast.”

  “Or we can shower together and I can buy us breakfast.”

  “What happened to staying in?” I puffed my lower lip out and wiggled my eyebrows.

  He chuckled as I crawled on top of him, kissed my way from his ear to his collarbone.

  “You are a very persuasive woman.”