LUCI (The Naughty Ones Book 2)

by Kristina Weaver

  “Of course.”

  We hugged again, and then she went back to work, the tears gone as quickly as they’d appeared.

  Grant recruited a few strong, strapping young men to help when he discovered what it was we wanted to do with the extra food. We helped load up the cars and then sent them on their way. Suddenly the silence was overwhelming. The kitchen was empty and the house seemed to echo with the absence of the grieving. A part of me wanted to rush outside and call them all back.

  “Let’s go home tonight,” Grant said.

  He was leaning against the counter, a glass of water in his hands. He wouldn’t look at me and he hadn’t tried to touch me for days. Not since I snapped at him at the funeral home when he tried to offer me a hug. He didn’t know what to do with me.

  “Okay.”

  He looked up. “Yeah?”

  “We don’t need to stay here anymore.” I turned slowly, my fingers brushing the top of the kitchen table. “He’s not here anymore.”

  “He’s not.”

  I looked at him. “Thank you for being here. For being patient.”

  Grant crossed to me and touched my face with just the back of one finger. “Where else would I be?”

  I moved into his arms and his quickly came around me, holding me tightly. He smelled so familiar, felt so familiar. I stood there for a long moment, loving how good it felt to be close to him. I think maybe that’s why I’d pushed him away these last few days. I didn’t want to feel good when my father couldn’t feel at all. But now…I wanted to feel. I wanted to feel alive.

  Chapter 28

  The moment we walked into our apartment, I took Grant’s hand and led the way upstairs. He followed, probably assuming I was anxious to get to sleep. And I did need to sleep. I don’t think I’d closed my eyes for more than an hour or two in more than a week. But that wasn’t what I wanted now.

  I turned into him as we crossed the threshold into the master suite, the lovely sitting room outside our bedroom welcoming us with its bright colors and comfortable furnishings. I’d finally taken the reigns of the decorating when we decided to move in together, transforming the bland, white rooms into something cozy and ideal for a young couple. The only problem was, I was pretty sure I wanted to convert the sitting room into a nursery for the baby. The idea of having the baby all the way downstairs by his or herself was not sitting well with me. So we’d have to go through another couple of weeks of paint smells and minor construction messes while that was taking place. But, for now, it was a lovely sitting room. A perfect location for a seduction.

  I pushed his suit jacket off of his shoulders and tugged at his tie, pulling him across the room toward the small loveseat pressed against the far wall. His eyebrows rose as he watched me, a little confusion dancing in his eyes.

  “I want you,” I said quietly against his lips.

  “Are you sure?” he asked even as he kissed me.

  “Positive.”

  I turned him and pushed him down on the loveseat, climbing into his lap as I tugged his tie from around his neck. We kissed, our tongues dancing together as I unbuttoned his shirt. The buttons weren’t coming fast enough for my nimble fingers, but I managed to get most of them before I lifted it over his head. Then I pushed his head back and kissed his neck, my lips moving slowly over that place where his Adam’s apple lived, moving down to the soft patch of hair that grew in the center of his chest.

  “Damn, baby!”

  I looked up at him and licked my lips slowly, like I’d just tasted the best thing God had ever created. His eyes were burning with need as he watched me, his hands reaching for my hips.

  “No,” I said, pushing them away. “This is my show.”

  “Addison…”

  I didn’t want to listen to his concerns, didn’t want him to stop the train we were riding. I wanted this, wanted to forget for a while. I grabbed his wrists and pulled them up behind his head, then wrapped his silk tie around them, binding them tight enough that he couldn’t lower his arms, even if he wanted to. The whole time he was kissing my neck, his hot breath sending shivers of pleasure up and down my spine. When I pulled back and he tugged at the tie, one of his eyebrows cocked as he studied me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Like I said, this is my show.”

  I turned my attention back to his chest, to running the tip of my tongue along the teeny hardness of his nipple, to tasting heated skin that was so incredibly full of life. I worked my way down his chest to his belly, slipping my tongue into his navel briefly as my hands tugged at the button holding his slacks in place. He was biting his bottom lip when I straightened again, climbing off his lap to stand in front of him.

  “You’re not leaving me, are you?” he asked, his voice husky with need.

  “Not going anywhere.”

  I crossed the room and turned on my iPod where it had been sitting in a dock for longer than it should have. Music filled the room, something soft and jazzy—the kind of music Grant couldn’t stand. But I left it, deciding the beat was perfect for what I planned to do next.

  I started to move my hips, doing a little shimmy that was neither planned nor well thought out. I nearly tripped over the low table that sat in front of the long couch that was perpendicular to the loveseat. I caught myself just in time and moved over a few feet. Then I started to sway again, watching his face as he watched me. He was biting his lip again and I knew that was a very good sign.

  As I danced, I ran my hands over my own hips, my expanding belly, my breasts. Grant tugged at the tie around his wrists, but it wasn’t going anywhere. And then I reached behind me and tugged at my zipper, pulling the thing down with a slow, easy movement. My dress split down the back, the three-quarter sleeves threatening to slide off without any help. I crossed my arms over my chest, catching the shoulders of the dress and slowing their release. Grant’s eyes were glued to my chest, waiting for the moment when it would be revealed. I made him wait as long as I could.

  I turned my back to him when I stepped out of the dress. He groaned, but then the sound turned into something else as I reached back and tugged at the clasp of my bra. It didn’t come free as easily as the dress. But it did come free and fall from my heavy breasts. I turned, dressed only in a pair of panties, my arms crossed over my breasts.

  Grant leaned forward, like he wanted to get off the couch.

  “You’re driving me insane,” he practically growled.

  “Good. That was the plan.”

  I crossed to him and climbed into his lap again, touching his face as I stole another kiss. He groaned against my lips.

  “Undo my hands. I want to touch you.”

  “Not yet.”

  And then I slid to my knees. He leaned his head back and the sounds coming from his throat would never let me forget what my touch did to him. I pulled at his slacks, releasing the button and zipper, the back of my fingers brushing the shaft that hid behind his briefs. He lifted his hips quite willingly to help me free him of his pants. Then I brushed my lips against his inner thigh as I pressed my hand against the bulge of his briefs. Again those noises…they made my juices run more than anything else he could do.

  I wanted to tease him, to play with him the same way he does with me sometimes. But this need to be a part of him, to feel the life coursing through him, to feel alive in his arms was too strong to ignore.

  I tugged his briefs up and reached inside to free his cock. He was impossibly hard, his pulse vibrating through his shaft as I held him. I stroked him for a moment, watching his face as his eyes rolled back in his head. Then I ran my thumb over his head, coating it in the fluid of his precum, licking it away when he focused on me long enough to understand what it was I was doing.

  “God, baby,” he moaned, again tugging at the restraint on his wrists.

  I stroked him a little longer, reaching into his briefs to cup his balls with my other hand. Again he leaned his head back, a moan like nothing I’d ever heard before escaping his lips. I ro
lled his balls in their sacks, enjoying the feel of his virility there in my hand. And then I took him in my mouth, with no warning, swallowing as much of him as I could. I thought the poor man was going to jump off the loveseat.

  There is nothing more life affirming than sex. Holding the power to bring such a man to his knees in my hands was invigorating. Feeling life pulse through him in the blood that made him erect—that beat against my hand, my lips—feeling the heat of him, the virility of him, remembering it was this body that placed a new life inside of me…it pushed away the darkness that had settled over me the moment my dad died.

  When he was close, when I could feel his need building inside of him, I pulled away. I stood and slowly slipped out of my panties. And then I climbed on top of him and guided him inside of me, moving carefully as he slowly filled me.

  “I need to touch you,” he said, his eyes locked on mine, hooded with a need like I’d never seen before.

  I shook my head even as I closed my eyes, sitting up and moving so that he touched me in all the right places. It felt different. Good. But different. He moved his hips as I rocked against him, the tip of his cock touching things deep inside of me that sent rockets cascading over my nerve endings. He was so close, I could feel him swelling just moments after I mounted him. But I was right there with him, so aroused just by his arousal that we both slipped over that edge at almost the same time. I buried my fingers against his shoulder, biting back a scream. And then I collapsed on top of him, reveling in the race of his heartbeat and the gasps of his breath.

  Only then did I release his hands. Only then did I succumb to what I knew I was barely holding off. Only then did I free myself of a little more of the poisonous buildup of grief.

  Grant just held me, knowing me well enough that that was all he could do.

  Chapter 29

  To say we were busy over the next six weeks was like saying the president of the United States had a few things to do each day. Taking on CQ’s office complex was a logistical nightmare that required long hours at the office that I was more than willing to put in. It felt good to be busy. It kept my mind in a better place.

  I was at the site late one afternoon, looking past my growing belly as I walked over plywood that had been laid down to keep everyone out of the mud. My feet ached inside my heavy work boots. I’d been touring project sites since early this morning and this was my last stop. There should have been foundations dug for four of the five buildings. I was pleased to see that they were actually beginning to dig out the fifth despite heavy rains last week.

  “Addison,” Billy said as he approached me, “you look wonderful.”

  “I look like I swallowed a beach ball.”

  “A basketball, maybe. It’ll be a month or two before you reach beach-ball proportions.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  He took my arm and guided me over the plywood. We stood at the edge of one of the foundations and I could see that prep work was already being done for the support structure and the plumbing that would have to be run.

  “We’re ahead of schedule.”

  “We are,” Billy agreed.

  “When will the plumbers be able to get in?”

  “Next week.”

  I nodded, pleased. It was good news.

  We had fifteen projects going on at the moment. Eight of them were behind schedule because of the rain. Five were right on schedule. And only two were ahead of schedule. The fact that this project was one of the two was huge for our bottom line.

  “Grant’ll be thrilled.”

  “Where is Grant?” Billy asked. “I thought he’d be making this tour with you.”

  “He was supposed to, but he was called into a series of meetings at the last minute.” I stretched a little, pressing my hands into my lower back. “We’re still working on upgrading the computer systems at the office, and he’s working with Taurus on getting that closer to finished.”

  “Must be nice for him, working with his former partners.”

  “He seems to be enjoying it.”

  “What about you? How have you been?”

  I ran my hand over my swollen belly. “Doctor says everything’s progressing normally.”

  “That’s good. But I really meant you, Addison. How are you?”

  Billy had this way of looking through me, like he could see something that I managed to hide from the rest of the world.

  “It’s a day-to-day thing. Some days, I’m okay. But some days are pretty hard.”

  He touched my arm, his eyes softening a little. “You’re doing a good job hiding it.”

  I kind of laughed. “Not according to Grant. I think he’s beginning to get tired of the tears over the littlest things. This morning, I had a nervous breakdown because I spilled the sugar on the kitchen counter.”

  “That’s just pregnancy,” Billy said with a chuckle.

  “Maybe. But I’ve never been the girl who cries over everything.”

  “I know. But once that baby comes…”

  “That’s what everyone says.”

  Billy took my hand and tucked it through his arm, much like Grant often does, and led the way back around to another of the foundations. We toured the entire site, talking about schedules and supplies and even a little about the men working here on the site. And then he walked me to my truck and helped me in.

  “Go put your feet up. And tell that husband of yours to show his ugly mug around here once in a while.”

  “I will.”

  I kissed his cheek lightly, aware of him watching me until I maneuvered the truck out of the mud and back onto the pavement.

  It was a bit of a drive back to the office, long enough to think about things I didn’t really want to think about. The funeral. The house sitting neglected. The papers my father had been working so hard to organize that were now sitting in boxes, waiting for someone to pay attention to them. There was so much I should be doing, but when the end of the day came I was too exhausted to think of anything beyond a hot bath and a long night under our down comforter.

  Grant offered to take care of things for me. But I knew clearing out my dad’s house was something I should do personally. So it waited.

  I pulled into the parking garage beside our office building and mumbled under my breath a few choice words as I struggled to get my eighteen weeks of belly out of the truck. I ran my hand over my belly, wondering when it would be that I could distinguish the baby’s movement from gas bubbles. The doctor assured us it would be soon, but nothing had happened so far. It scared me a little that I hadn’t felt anything yet. What if there was nothing to feel? I wasn’t sure I could go through another loss right now.

  “Mr. Lewis called,” Angela said as I walked past her desk to go to my office. “And Burt said something about the new order being inaccurate?”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “And Grant asked that you come to his office when you have a chance.”

  “Yeah?” I glanced at her. “Do you know what it’s about?”

  “No.”

  I nodded as I settled in my office chair and tried to bend over to untie my boots. Angela didn’t even ask. She just came around and knelt, untying them and slipping them off for me.

  “I hate having you do that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’ll do it for me someday.”

  She wouldn’t look at me as she crossed back around. She and Kevin were on a break at the moment. Something about her refusal to move in with him. She wouldn’t talk about it, and I could hardly blame her. I wouldn’t want to talk about it, either. Grant thought it was a temporary setback and Kevin would come around. I hoped he was right. Angela and Kevin were good together.

  “Are you still coming over Friday night?”

  Angela looked up. “Are you sure you want people around? You’re always so tired.”

  “Hanging out with friends is relaxing. Besides, we haven’t had time to hang out together lately.”

  She smiled softly. “Sure. I�
�ll be there.”

  I watched her go, then sighed as I tackled the phone calls that couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Mr. Lewis wanted to be reassured that everything was progressing well. I was happy to be able to tell him we were ahead of schedule. And Burt’s issue was easy to settle once I assured him that we did, indeed, want fifty cabinets for one project. Apartments.

  And then there were the unending lists of e-mails that never seemed to go away. By the time I was done, the sun was going down in the floor-to-ceiling windows behind me and my eyes were dry and aching. I sat back and rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hand.

  “You were supposed to come find me when you had a minute.”

  “I haven’t had a minute all day,” I said, shifting to watch Grant come into the office. He was in a suit, as usual, but his tie was loosened and his hair looked as though he’d dragged his fingers through it a few too many times. “You look as tired as I feel.”

  “I’m probably close.”

  He came around and perched himself on the edge of my desk, holding both sides of a file folder between his hands.

  “Is this business? I was hoping you just wanted to see me.”

  “I always just want to see you,” he said, leaning down to kiss the tip of my nose. Then he reached down and rested his fingertips on my belly. “How are you doing?”

  “No crying jags out at the projects.”

  “That’s probably a relief for the foremen.”

  I smiled, imagining the big, tough foremen on our construction crews trying to deal with one of my crying jags. They all had children, so one would assume they’d gone through something similar with their wives. But it still brought to mind a tragic comedy.

  He lifted the file folder. “Just a little bit of business.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your six-month contract ended today.”

  “I’d totally forgotten about that.”

  “Yes, well, the lawyers didn’t. They sent over the paperwork to have your share of the purchase price released and placed in your personal account.”