by Lulu Pratt
“I have no idea what to wear!” I declare, frustrated.
Stephania laughs at my frazzled state before examining the choices beside her.
“Wear the blue shorts and that black lace tank you bought last weekend.”
I move around the room hurriedly to collect the pieces.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me bailing on you tonight?” I ask, stepping into the shorts. The fit around my hips is snug so I do a little dance to get them up.
“I think I’ll manage, sweetie,” Stephania answers, amused. “You deserve a night out and since you won’t let me set you up, I guess this Jameson guy will do.”
*
The motorcycle ride to the restaurant passes in a blur, mostly because my eyes are shut the whole time and I’m solely focused on holding onto Jameson for dear life. It isn’t my first time on a bike, but that doesn’t make it any less frightening.
Later, as we sit across from each other at the quaint table for two, Jameson seems more focused on me than the menu in front of him.
“What’s on your mind?” I want to know.
“I don’t think I can say without you running out of here scandalized,” he volleys back with a passive expression.
Sleazy images fill my mind’s eye and I’m immediately lost as desire claims my wits.
I open my mouth to speak but close it as words fail me.
“What would you like, Grace?”
You, I want to blurt before I realize he’s asking for my order. A waitress has appeared at our table.
Training my eyes back on the menu, I pick the first thing I see and close it.
When the waitress leaves our table, I take a nervous sip from my water glass.
“So, tell me about yourself, Grace.” He stares at me intently.
I shift anxiously in my seat. I’m not too keen on talking about myself. My life before Holly Hill was none too pretty and not a pleasure to relive.
“What would you like to know?”
“Anything you want to tell me, sweetheart.”
A bottle of wine arrives at our table and I sigh, thankful for the momentary reprieve and the introduction of liquid courage into the equation.
Following my first sip, I savor the taste of the full-bodied liquid.
Jameson’s gaze hasn’t left me once and I know he’s still waiting for me to answer his question.
So, I start the condensed version of my life, skipping over the bumpy parts and leaving out most of the wretched details that led me to Holly Hill.
I don’t want to scare him off. A woman with “issues” and a rocky past don’t seem to be on Jameson’s to-do list.
Chapter seven
JAMESON WILCOX
Grace moans appreciatively, leaning back in her chair as we finish off dessert: a giant slice of triple chocolate cake.
My favorite part is watching Grace indulgently lick the icing from her fingers.
She’s so damn irresistible without trying.
“This is why my hips are spreading at astronomical rates,” she groans, draining the rest of the wine in her glass.
“I love your hips,” I blurt without hesitation.
I loved her body. Period.
She’s pure perfection. My straining cock against the zipper of my pants is a true testament to that fact.
“Hmm,” she hums, lazily acknowledging my compliment and I know the wine has gotten to her head.
She’s on her third glass and relaxed. Slightly tipsy Grace is even more enjoyable than I imagined.
I want to tell her as much until a man near the maître d’s podium catches my attention.
I freeze, feeling my jaw lock and eyes narrow involuntarily.
“What’s wrong?” Grace sounds worried across the table.
I turn my eyes back in her direction and try to offer a reassuring smile.
There’s no way in hell I’m telling her that Brick is in the building.
I was trained to maintain my cool in the face of adversity and that’s exactly what I intend to do until my exit strategy is in place.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she observes and I say a quick prayer that she won’t turn around to see the “ghost” for herself.
“It’s nothing,” I lie cautiously.
My breaths are calculated as I watch Brick being ushered into a different dining room. He never turns directly toward us and I think we’ve gone unseen but I still want to get the hell out of here.
“Listen, are you ready to get out of here?” I ask and even I notice the arctic chill that has entered my voice.
She visibly flinches at my sudden shift in tone, before nodding and hurriedly gathering her purse.
“I’m ready,” she says quietly as I leave a few bills on the table.
As we walk out to the bike, I feel like shit when I notice the slight droop in her shoulders.
Even though she hasn’t said anything, I know Grace thinks she’s done something to cause my dark mood.
“Grace,” I call just before we reach my bike.
We both stop walking and I face her, studying her features in the final light of dusk.
She’s fucking breathtaking.
“Yes?” she asks uncertainly.
“I’m sorry about that back there. I saw something that upset me and I didn’t handle it well. I don’t want you to think it has anything to do with you. You’re perfect. Dinner was perfect,” I explain.
Relief washes over her features and her beautiful smile follows.
“I wanted to get out of the restaurant but I’m not ready for our night to end. Let me take you somewhere else.”
“Okay,” she agrees easily. “Where to now?”
We finally reach my bike and I retrieve our helmets.
“I have a place in mind,” I say, extending the extra helmet in her direction.
*
As we near our destination, I slow the bike to a crawl, loathe to stop the thing for fear of Grace releasing her hold on me.
She feels damn good wrapped around my torso so tightly. Even if it is a struggle to breathe.
“We’re here,” I announce, cutting the engine in a well-lit parking lot.
“The community college?” she asks and her bewilderment isn’t lost on me.
“Take a walk with me,” I say extending my hand.
She takes it without hesitation and falls in step with me.
“So, are you going to explain why you picked this place to end our evening?” Grace asks five minutes into our walk.
There’s a tinge of sassiness in her voice and I try not to laugh.
“Give me a break. This town isn’t exactly full of places to take a date.”
“A date?” she echoes before humming something lowly to herself.
“I have a story about this place,” I offer as bait.
“Do tell.”
“I dropped out of this place after three weeks of classes.”
She turns to look at me, stunned by the revelation.
“You’re telling me you dropped out of community college?”
“Yep,” I nod. “I never wanted to go the college route in the first place and this was my compromise to get my parents off my back. I told them that I would transfer to a four-year college after two years just to placate them but I knew it would never happen. I hated school. Always had.”
“Wow,” she says quietly. “I would have never guessed it. You seem so educated and refined.”
I know she’s teasing me and a grin breaks out over my face.
“I owe my refinement to the navy. I quit this place and enlisted a week later. My parents were pissed,” I chuckle at the memory.
My mother had been stunned silent and my father had turned so red, I thought he would faint.
“I bet they were. You’re their only child, right? I’m sure they only wanted the best for you.”
“The navy was the best for me. It taught me everything I needed to know about life. I ended up getting my bachelor’s degree
while I served so it worked out eventually.”
She smiles at me, letting me know she’s pleased by this new information.
My dick reawakens for the first time since the restaurant at the sight of her smile.
There’s nothing I don’t find sexy about this woman. And I can’t believe I’m walking around an empty campus sharing my life story with her.
A woman I’m supposed to deliver to Brick in less than two weeks.
We walk and talk for a bit longer before Grace starts discreetly yawning and I know she must be exhausted.
I get us back to her place and walk her to the front door, still not quite ready for our time together to end.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Jameson,” she says shyly and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever fucking witnessed.
“The pleasure was all mine, Ms. Chambers,” I say truthfully. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so much fun with a woman outside the bedroom.
I step forward, closing the space between us and the heat radiating between us is palpable.
She’s just as aroused as I am and the thought drives me wild.
Grace Chambers wants me.
Leaning down, I cover her lips with mine and savor the taste of Grace. Her lips are pliant against mine and I kiss her hard before my tongue slips out to get in on the action.
I hear a thud as her purse hits the ground, then her arms are wrapped around my torso, hugging me to her as she deepens the kiss.
Wanting to get as close as possible, I back her into the door and grip her hips possessively.
I need her.
As her lips continue to brush against mine, the hypnotizing scent of her perfume drugs me, making me crave her even more.
Panting, I tear my lips from hers and stare at her stunned face.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Grace Chambers,” I whisper as I plant a soft and final kiss on her lips.
She’s speechless.
I bend down to retrieve her purse from the ground and hand it over.
“Go inside before I change my mind and give your neighbors the show of their lives,” I tease.
“Goodnight, Jameson,” she sounds just as dazed as I do.
I know it won’t be much longer before we both succumb to the lust building between us but it can’t be tonight. I have too much to handle at the moment.
Patiently, I wait while she secures the lock, chain and deadbolt on her door. To others it might seem like overkill but I was pleasantly surprised when I’d entered her apartment and saw the extra safety measures in place.
There was even a baseball bat resting against the table in the foyer and I was happy she seemed aware and capable of handling any lurking danger.
As I walk back downstairs, I allow myself to relish the kiss once more before my thoughts shift to more daunting territory.
I need to come up with a plan to protect Grace before that bastard finds her on his own.
Despite the late hour, I pull out my cell phone and call Mendoza letting him know we need to meet up as soon as possible.
Chapter eight
GRACE CHAMBERS
“What do you think about this one?” Stephania asks, holding up a silk blouse from across the store.
I look up and run my eyes over the piece of clothing, ultimately deciding that it’s not her style.
“Too stuffy for you,” I say distractedly, returning my gaze to the sales rack in front of me.
Stephania and I are out shopping to celebrate payday and successfully making it through another work week.
Normally, I’d be absorbed in scoring the best deals but my thoughts are scattered thanks to Jameson.
We’ve talked on the phone every night since our date last Friday and he sends me the most wicked text messages throughout the day.
I’d nearly ruined another pair of panties today when I looked down at my phone during a rather important branch meeting at the credit union.
The man is too much.
But I’m hooked. I don’t know what I’ll do if he ever loses interest. The thought is an unwelcome one but something about this whole thing seems fleeting. Too damn good to be true.
I walk over to Stephania, brooding. I can’t focus on shopping right now.
I need to get laid or I will go absolutely insane.
A deep frown sets in when Stephania sees my empty hands.
“What has gotten into you, girl?” she fusses, reaching up to touch my forehead as if to check for a fever.
I swat her hand away, irritated and make a suggestion.
“Let’s go to that chocolate shop on the other side of the plaza.”
If I can’t have Jameson then decadent, overpriced chocolate will have to do.
“How’s work?” I ask, launching us into a conversation about our respective bosses.
She’s been having some trouble with the administration at her school.
“The principal is a legitimate ass,” she huffs, shifting her shopping bag from one hand to another.
“What’s she done now?” I ask picking up on the ire in her voice.
“So I finally got the field trip approved for my group of seniors. But here’s the kicker — I can only do it if we go at six in the morning on a Saturday!”
“Are you serious?” I ask, shooting her an incredulous look.
“Dead serious,” she sighs. “I originally planned to do it on a Friday morning. But that got shot down. So, I can completely scrap the idea and look like a liar to my kids. Or I can suck it up and go when she says.”
I shake my head, annoyed for her.
“Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be trying to round up thirty teenagers on a weekend?” she finishes on a groan just as we reach the store.
We decide to split a sundae.
As we sit down at a table for two, Stephania seizes the opportunity to grill me about my mood.
And Jameson.
“How are things going with you two?” she asks sliding a curious glance my way.
Exhaling, I contemplate how to answer that question. What are Jameson and I doing? What are we to each other?
I honestly have no idea what we are to one another and I say as much.
“The man wants you bad, Gracie. I saw the way he was looking at you before your date last week. There’s no denying it. You won’t be on the market much longer,” she predicts.
As much as I love the thought of being claimed by Jameson, I have to be realistic.
“His wanting to fuck me and be in a relationship with me are two very different things,” I reason, dipping my spoon into the cup and taking a generous scoop of the dessert.
Perceptive eyes bore into mine before she asks her next question.
“Wait. Do you even want a relationship with him?”
I shrug, pondering my response.
Jameson is gorgeous as sin and probably incredible in the sack. But that doesn’t mean I should throw caution to the wind and get involved with a man I know so little about. The last time I did that, I’d ended up with my crazy, controlling ex.
“My last serious relationship was a shit show, Steph,” I say honestly. “I don’t know if I’m ready to go down that road.”
She nods but continues to stare at me, allowing me to speak uninterrupted.
“You know I always say I’m not ready to date again but I definitely do feel something for Jameson. Mostly lustful feelings,” I admit.
I sigh, staring out of the window beside our table.
“Maybe a strictly physical relationship wouldn’t be so bad right now.”
*
Can I see you tonight?
I stare down at the text from Jameson before reaching down to finish applying a top coat of polish to my toes.
The doorbell rings before I have a chance to tap out a reply and I waddle to the front of the apartment.
Before hopping in the shower, Stephania warned me that the pizza she ordered may be arriving before she finished.
&nb
sp; As I reach the kitchen, I grab the cash she left on the counter.
“Who is it?” I ask before I even touch the locks.
“Delivery!” a male voice calls through the dense wood.
After undoing the locks, I swing the door open and come face to face with Jameson.
He’s holding a pizza box and greets me with a crooked smile.
“You always answer the door wearing so little, Grace?”
His words make me look down at my outfit selection.
I’m wearing an old midriff-baring tank and a pair of worn-out cotton shorts that barely cover my ass.
His eyes roam my frame from head to toe and I feel naked under his scrutiny.
“Where’s the pizza guy?” I ask instead of answering his question.
“He left after I tipped him. Can I come in, Grace?”
I step back and allow him entry.
Saying thanks, I take the greasy box from his hands to go set it on the kitchen counter. I can feel the heat of his gaze on my behind as I walk away. I place the crumpled twenty dollar bill back in its original place.
“Jameson, what are you doing here?”
“Didn’t you get my text?”
The text had come through less than five minutes ago.
I decide to have some fun at his expense.
“Isn’t it rather presumptuous to show up before I give you an answer? How do you know I don’t have plans?”
Jameson’s eyes darken dangerously and I almost shudder from the intensity.
“Plans doing what? With who?” he asks, all traces of earlier amusement gone.
His territorial tone is so damn sexy, I shift from foot to foot as the pulse between my legs quickens.
“I don’t have any plans,” I give in.
I witness the tension in his shoulders lessen gradually.
“Good, because I want to take you out.”
I stare at him, completely enthralled by his brazen attitude.
“Go get ready, Grace,” he says as I continue to stand there entranced.
I turn and walk to my room, completely confused by the sensations rolling through me at his commanding tone.
I have never been attracted to domineering men in the past, but Jameson’s severe demeanor and impatient words are one hell of a combination.