He stuck out his hand to me. “It is the pleasure to meet together with you, Grady. I’m Pasha Gravilov.”
I shook his hand, noting that his grip was weak and insincere.
He embraced Isa in an awkward hug, and she quickly escaped his grasp and clung to my side.
“Privet, Bellichka. Now I understand it is that you rejected the offer from me”
What offer? Isa squeezed my arm and whispered to me. “He asked me to teach at his studio.” She turned to Pasha, her body remaining by my side. “How on earth did you know I was up here? Did you just drive up from L.A.?”
He let out a deep laugh. “I went to see your old man and he told to me where it is I find you. I am smart man so I put two and two together.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Only reason you did agree to work together with her dad is to get to Bella, da?”
I stared Pasha down. “That’s it, buddy. I’m not sure why you’re here, but it’s time for you to leave before I throw you out.”
Pasha ignored me, plowed past us, and made himself right at home, sitting on the sofa.
“It is a beautiful place, Grady.”
“Why are you here exactly? I’m giving you five minutes before I kick your ass out.”
He slicked his hand through his greasy hair. “What is it your plans with the Marines?”
Here we go.
“I’m getting medically retired. After that, no clue.”
His gaze shifted. He wanted something from me. “The producer, he has his eye on you. You could do show, dance with beautiful woman, make money. How does that sound?”
I swallowed hard; though I could barely understand him with his thick accent and broken English, I knew one thing for sure—this guy saw me as a meal ticket, just like Isa had seen me as a pity fuck. “I’m not interested. I just want to find something that makes me as happy as being a Marine does. This book is a one-shot deal with me. I’m not going to be your right-wing gun-toting show pony.”
I glanced over at Isa, who shook her head and muttered something under her breath.
Pasha let out a cackle that reminded me of the bleats from the goats in Iraq. “Grady, listen to me. You will get money, endorsements, TV shows. I can make you.”
Fuck, I already told this guy no. For a second, I wondered if Isa put him up to this shit—a way to get her back on the show. But the scowl on her face told me she was as angry with him being here as I was. I needed to get this prick to leave. “Not happening.”
“Dammit, just leave him alone,” Isa said in a sharp tone.
He leveled her with an icy scowl. “Bella, stay out of this. This is not concerning to you. Why do you not shut up and let the men talk together about business. Go pour me a coffee.”
Isa shot a cold, dead glare at him. “Fuck you, Pasha.”
Fuck this dude. I didn’t give a rat’s ass that he was on TV or he used to dance with Isa. No one was going to talk to her like that in front of me.
I grabbed him by the arm and tossed him off the sofa. “Isa’s my woman, not yours anymore. Get the fuck out of here.”
“Your woman?” Pasha’s eyes widened as he straightened his clothes. “You must be blind, also. A woman as beautiful as Bella can never love a man as hideous as you. She’s using you for money—just like she used me to dance.”
My hands wrapped around his neck and I shoved him against the door. “I may be blind in one eye but you must be deaf. You have no idea who you’re dealing with. You contact either of us again and I’ll break both your legs and you’ll never dance again.”
I released him, and he slumped to the floor. This motherfucker wasn’t worth going to jail over.
He clenched his fist. “Good job, Bella—you will never get back on show. You left dancing together with me and now want to date this freak?” He slowly stood up. “And Grady, if you lay your hands on me again, I will have you arrested for assault.”
Ha. That was almost funny. “Assault? Go right ahead—that will be great for your public image—arrest a war hero who you begged to go on your pathetic show. I’m not afraid of you. Fuck you and fuck your show. What are you going to do? Sue me? I don’t have a fucking dime to my name and I’m about to get kicked out of the Corps. I jumped on a grenade to save my buddies’ lives—I’ll do whatever it takes to protect what’s mine, and that includes Isa. If you come by here or harass us, or you talk to her like that again, I’m going to fuck you up. Am I clear?”
His head made a slow, disbelieving shake. “Crystal. I let myself out.”
Isa bit her nails, her eyes glued to her feet. I put my arm around her as her ex-partner slammed the door.
I locked the door and set the alarm, then turned my attention back to Isa. Her hands were clutching her stomach.
“Hey. It’s okay.” I pressed my hand under her chin.
She gulped. “He’s just such a jerk. He only cares about himself. Always has.”
I stroked her hair. “Forget about him. I got you.”
“No, you don’t understand. He has a reason to hate me. He’s still mad because I ended our partnership right before Blackpool. We probably would’ve finaled that year.”
“He doesn’t matter.” I planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She sobbed in my arms.
After a few minutes, she abruptly stood up. “I’m going to go take a bath.”
I remembered the night I’d met her at the party, how her friend had ditched her. She hadn’t mentioned anyone else close in her life. My gut told me, that as of today, I was the only one she had.
23
Isa
After seeing Pasha, I wanted to escape, drown out the voices in my head that told me that somehow our partnership had been responsible for my mother’s death. I’d been so wrapped up with the show and training for Blackpool that I hadn’t noticed how lost my mom was. Maybe I would’ve seen a sign.
Enough—he didn’t deserve to occupy my thoughts. And nothing good came from wondering what if.
I filled the tub with hot water. A large window looked out to the lake, the snowcapped mountains in the distance. I undressed and slipped into the blissful heat.
The best distraction from Pasha was fantasizing about Grady.
Everything was happening so fast between us. It seemed like a big jump to me though, going from never leaving the house, to eating at a restaurant, to spending all our time together. I hoped Grady could handle it, and that he wasn’t moving too fast.
Grady opened the door, and I couldn’t help but gasp even though I’d seen him only a few minutes ago. Every time I looked at him, he became more and more beautiful to me. His battle scars made him look rougher, tougher, badder.
His eyes focused on my body. I wanted him so badly, I arched my back and made sure to give him a view of my breasts.
His tongue darted out to lick his lips and I imagined his tongue doing its magic on me. “Can I join you?”
“I’d like that.” I watched him peel his clothes off, a private strip tease. I’d never grow tired of staring at his body, like some lovesick teenager. His cut abs, his massive chest, his huge biceps. Had he never been injured, his gorgeous face would’ve matched his incredible body. Who would he be now? Some cocky, drop-dead gorgeous player?
He climbed in the soaker tub and wrapped his body around mine as I relaxed into his. Grady’s hands gripped my thighs, and the warmth from his body sparked joy deep inside me.
He squeezed me tight. “I’m glad you dressed as Black Widow that night.”
“Me too.”
His lips crashed onto mine, and my body became alive next to his. I couldn’t get enough of his touch, his scent, his strength.
“Grady, I’m crazy about you.”
He let out a growl but kept my body faced away from his, his cock pressing against my ass. “Don’t move.”
He jumped out of the tub, and the sight of his ass, muscular and defined, was almost enough to send me over the edge. He dimmed the ligh
ts, opened a drawer, grabbed a lighter, and lit the candles placed around the tub. He poured some bubble bath in the tub, and turned on the water.
After what seemed way longer than a few minutes, he finally slipped back behind me, and I leaned back into his chest. Our breath syncopated, and his fingers began to massage my temples.
I was practically melting into him when he finally turned the water off. The scent of salted caramel bubble bath filled the room. Grady grabbed a teal mesh loofah and gently kneaded my skin. The fabric danced over my neck, my breasts, down my belly, until it rested in between my thighs. I let out a moan, as his fingers replaced the fabric, teasing my folds, pressing on my clit.
“You’re so beautiful, Isa. Let me worship you.”
He propped me up on the edge of the tub, knelt in the water, and spread my legs. One hand rubbed my nipples, now slippery and slick, while his other hand teased my pussy.
I was desperate for his tongue, remembering how amazing it felt the other night. His eyes looked up at me, and he flashed a wicked grin before his mouth covered my slit.
His tongue swirled around my lips as he rubbed my clit. The pressure was divine, the perfect blend of sucking and licking.
I released a breath and paused to create a mental picture of this moment and freeze it in time. The peaceful lake, the majestic mountains, the sunlit sky.
My pleasure was pulsing in waves, and I began to moan. Grady seemed invigorated by my response, but instead of continuing, he pulled me off the edge of the tub.
I was sure he was about to fuck me, maybe bent over on the edge of the tub, but he had other plans. One press of the Jacuzzi buttons, and I trembled with anticipation.
“Come here, Isa. I’m gonna make you come so hard.”
He positioned me so I was kneeling inside the tub, the jets blasting between my legs.
“Oh, ohmigod.”
He slapped my ass, and I moaned. The palm of his hand tweaked my nipples as the rapid stream of water blasted my clit.
“That’s it, baby, come for me.”
I rolled my hips against the waves, and Grady pushed me flat against the jet.
“Oh my God!” The surge of water unleashed the most intense orgasm I’d ever had. I was out of my mind, riding the pleasure. I screamed Grady’s name, and he held me as I collapsed into his arms.
After I came back down to earth, I couldn’t stop laughing, delirious with pleasure. I reached to stroke his cock, eager to return the favor, but he just pushed my hand away. “I’m good. I just wanted to make you feel good.” He kissed my neck, and we relaxed into the bubbles. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I’d never in my life experienced with anyone else the type of chemistry I had with Grady. That instant lust, that mad obsession, that constant longing. I knew what Grady and I had wasn’t love, it was something else. Something intoxicating.
And it terrified me.
24
Isa
Grady took off shortly after our sexy time in the bathtub. He said he had a few errands to run and to just make myself at home.
I enjoyed the solitude—I picked a book to read, watched an old Dateline, and worked on my needlepoint.
When he returned in the early evening, he finally allowed me to make dinner for him. It was so nice to cook for someone.
After dinner, Grady relaxed in his chair, drinking his beer, his eyes steady on me. “The enchiladas were great. I didn’t expect you to be such a good cook.”
“Thanks. My mom used to make them for us. They were my dad’s favorite.” It was one of the last things she had done before she died—taught me all her family recipes. I remembered being so happy bonding with her, never anticipating that she had already made the decision to leave us.
He stood up, told me to wait for a second, and went upstairs. He emerged from his room a few minutes later clutching a shoebox. “I bought you something.”
My heart leapt the second I saw telltale suede sole.
“Dance shoes?”
“Yup. I remember watching you dance on the show when I was in the hospital. You were really good.” His lips widened, and half of his face seemed to smile.
“It was years ago. I’m sure I’ve forgotten how to dance.” But I quickly realized that was a lie. I remembered everything. Every arch of my foot, every beat of the rhythm, every sway of my back.
“The lady at the store told me these were the best. I looked at your shoes to get the right size.”
I wanted to kiss him. I hadn’t had new dance heels in years, and my old ones had been danced in until their soles were so barren that I would stub my toes on the floor. Even though I’d had money when I was on the show, those shoes were my lucky shoes. My mom had given them to me. “You shouldn’t have. I really don’t need them. I don’t even dance anymore. That was really sweet of you, but I can’t accept them.”
He walked over to me and knelt at my feet. His hand reached around my calf, and he took off my flip-flops and rubbed my toes.
I held back a moan. The touch of his hand on my feet made my flesh tingle. The second I slipped my arched foot into the three-and-a-half-inch Latin suede dance shoes, my heart sang, my body yearning to return to the floor.
“Thank you. I love them.” We stood up and I wrapped my arms around his neck. His strong arms encircled my waist, and for a moment, I thought he would kiss me. But he released me instead.
Grady went to the formal dining room, and started pushing the table and chairs to the walls.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
He didn’t answer.
My mind was still trying to process that this gruff man, the one who barely wanted to talk to me a few days ago, was the same one who would buy me such a thoughtful gift. I was so overwhelmed that it took me a few minutes to realize what he was doing.
He was making me a ballroom.
“Let me see you dance.”
“I—I don’t have any music.”
“Name a song.”
I contemplating picking a cool song to impress him but just decided to go with a classic rumba. “‘I’m Not Giving You Up’ by Gloria Estefan.”
He fiddled on his phone and then plugged it into a speaker.
Grady placed a lone chair in the corner of the room. “Dance for me.”
Once the first note of the haunting rumba played, I knew I was back like I’d never skipped a day. That was the universal truth for dancers. No matter what the reason was you quit, no matter how many times you swore you would never return, one step onto that dance floor and your soul became whole again.
My body remembered every rhythmic rumba beat, my toes recalled every jive flick, and my arms reminisced every time I’d placed them in a paso doble battle pose. My gut wrenched—I’d had no clue how much I’d missed this part of my life.
But my reclaimed joy terrified me. One tap of my toes on the sprung hardwood floor, and I wanted to lose myself in the music.
My toes traced the floor during the rumba walks, my core settled into the beat. I danced as much for Grady as I did for myself.
Grady focused on me, his gaze steady, never looking away. Over the years I’d danced for so many people, in many shows and competitions, but I never had danced solely for the eyes of one man.
My man.
I danced toward him, shimmied my hips near his face, teasing him gently. I wasn’t a stripper, this wasn’t a lap dance, but the energy between us was passionate. I yearned for him to stand up, take me on the floor, expose his secrets to me.
I turned away from him, but his strong arms pulled me back. He pushed me onto his lap, grinding me down on his hard cock. His hand pulled my hair, pressing me into his lips. I kissed him back, high off the urgency, his beard tickling my skin. His lips were powerful yet soft, just like him. All my misgivings about getting close to him were fading, as I was melting into him. Our kiss was equal parts illicit and comforting. But the intensity of my emotions spooked me—I pushed him off of me, tears welling in my eyes.
And I knew I’d be unable to quit Grady after our time together was over.
25
Grady
I loved watching Isa dance, the way her body swayed with the music, as if she was dancing just for me.
But I needed a change of scenery.
As much as I loved the lake house, the place was a bit too pretentious for me. I wanted to be out in the wilderness, camping in nature. Luckily Isa was game, so the next day after lunch, we drove to a local campground that had small cabins. It was beautiful, so rustic, so removed from the world. This place was simple, humble, and more my style. It reminded me of vacationing in the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee. The cabin we rented here was unfortunately named “The Honeymoon Cabin.” It was constructed with knotty pine, contained a simple stove, a refrigerator, a small table, a sofa, and a queen bed made up with a pinecone quilt. Outside on the pine needle-covered ground were a barbecue, picnic table, and campfire pit.
We checked in and relaxed in the cabin for a bit. I’d planned to grill some burgers, down a few beers, and then spend all night fucking Isa.
But she had other plans.
“Wow, it’s gorgeous up here, Grady. Let’s go on a walk around the campsite.”
I hesitated. It was seventeen hundred. A gorgeous, late summer sunset.
I suddenly had a strong urge to remain in the cabin. But I chose not to listen to my gut. I could do this.
“Sure.”
I wrapped my arms around her slender waist and went outside. For the first few minutes, I enjoyed the mountain air, the sweet, smoky smell of ribs from a neighboring barbecue, the comfortable silence between Isa and me. We walked around the grounds, weaving in between cabins, trees, picnic tables, and a tiny creek.
TRITON: A Navy SEAL Romance (Heroes Ever After Book 2) Page 25