by Mignon Mykel
Grace, December 10th, 1812: I’m sorry. Can you come over?
I couldn’t get off my stool fast enough.
Well, I could; I managed to stand in a real smooth and slick fashion.
I opened my mouth, but Sydney beat me to the punch. Still cutting her cucumbers—good lord, how many was she feeding those boys?—she didn’t bother to look up at me, but had a smile on her face. “Caleb’s truck keys are in the drawer near the utility sink.”
My brows drew in. “How…?”
Sydney looked up now, pointing the knife at her phone. “She texted me, silly goose.” My sister spent entirely too much time with the under four crowd if she was calling me a silly goose.
She lined up her knife to the cucumber again. “Go. Be safe. Have fun. Yadda yadda yadda.”
“Are you sure? I’m supposed to be—”
Now she pointed the knife at me. It was a good thing she was my sister…
“Go.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll make this up to you.”
She just laughed and ignored me. Probably because everything was working out the way she wanted them to.
Well, they were working out the way I wanted them to, too.
I’d only been to Grace’s house a handful of times, but it wasn’t difficult to get to. She literally lived two blocks over from Sydney’s place and while it was in a different neighborhood and the houses weren’t nearly as large and glamourous, the little cottage she lived in was very ‘Grace.’
I maneuvered Caleb’s truck into the drive, pulling close to the house, and hopped out after shutting it down. Her front door had one of those funky fabric lace-like wreathes in red and green—probably for the upcoming holiday. Aside from the lights strewn on houses, it was easy to forget Christmas and the other winter holidays were around the corner when in the warmer climates.
Suddenly I wasn’t sure what I should do when she answered the door. Rather than think it out, I rapped my knuckles next to the wreath and stuffed my hands in my pockets. I couldn’t hear her moving around but I could hear the click of the lock as she slid it over.
I took a deep breath and ground my molars together for a brief moment, trying to find that even ground I so desperately needed right this moment, but I should have known better.
No matter the circumstances, simply seeing Grace did that, and the moment the door opened to her quiet, upturned face, everything stilled.
She’s so fucking beautiful.
It was a thought that ran through my head so many times whenever I was with her, but it was so true. Even in a faded shirt that had seen better years, and flannel sleep shorts, she was the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen.
“I’m sorry,” she said, repeating what she’d told me in text. “I kind of freaked out.” Her voice was soft but strong, not a single quiver of unease noticeable.
Not for the first time today, I opened my mouth to say something, but Grace quickly pushed on. “Today was great, Sawyer.” She reached for my arm and, with questioning eyes, she looked up at me just before her hand made contact with my forearm. “May I?”
Not quite sure what she was going to do, I took my hand out of my pocket and held it out to her. With both of her hands on my larger one, she placed it just under the curve of her left breast. I glanced there but returned my eyes to hers. What was she…?
“Feel how much I need you,” she whispered.
Feel how much I want you, I told her earlier. My fingers flexed over her ribs as I fought a smile. Under my palm, her heart beat strong and sure, even if slightly rapid. Matching my own, I was sure.
My fingers tightened over her and I pulled her close as my other swept back into her hair, holding her face turned up toward me. “Yeah?”
Her hands were now on my chest and my God, I loved her hands on me.
“Yeah,” she whispered back.
Taking that as the only invitation I needed, I lowered my mouth to hers. I wanted the kiss to stay sweet and slow, much like this morning’s, but the moment our lips met, I lost control over it. My mouth fought over hers, my tongue in her mouth and hers in mine. The velvet of her tongue felt like heaven over mine, and when she pulled back to suck on my lower lip, I pressed her body close to mine, grinding my quickly hardening erection into her belly. At the same time, I lifted my thumb from under her breast, sweeping over the pebbled peak there. I needed her to feel the same sexual nerve endings I did. I needed to know that she was on the same page as me.
Her gasp at my thumb had her releasing my lip.
As close as we were standing, there wasn’t any way someone on the street could see we were doing a little bit more than heavy making out, but this wasn’t for show. This wasn’t for other people’s eyes.
“Inside,” I spoke against her mouth. She stepped away and I reluctantly let her, only to follow her into the house and shut the door behind us, locking it in place.
I quickly took in my surroundings, noting that not much had changed since I last was in her place. The walls were white in rental fashion, but where my place was bland, hers was alive with color.
Colorful pillows, colorful blankets on the tan couch. She had pictures on the fire mantel and if memory served me correctly, there was even one of me up there.
Unless she took it down for Jeremy, which was likely.
God, I was so glad she walked away from that loser.
Before I could think about that too much more, Grace took my hand in hers and with sure steps, walked me through her little place, down a darkened hall, and into her bedroom. Like the living room, her vibrancy was everywhere in here, too. Coral bedspread, turquoise and light pink pillows.
This, these bright colors, were the Grace I knew. The Grace not many people outside of her close knit circle knew.
To the outside, she was quiet and reserved. Thoughtful.
And while she was very much those things, she was also loud when in the right atmosphere.
I was a lucky son of a bitch to get to know this side of her.
When she stopped, I reached behind me, blindly, for a light switch. Thankfully I had the right idea and found it on the first quick swipe on the wall. I had to see her face.
There she stood, her hand in mine, sure and steady, looking up at me with that small, quiet smile of hers.
“We don’t have to do this,” I told her. I needed us to be on the same wave length but I also didn’t want her feeling like she had to do something she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. We could work up to it. Hell, we still had to figure out how the road was going to go after I flew home tomorrow.
God, this weekend had gone by too fast. I wasn’t ready to go home, not yet.
Not when things were finally clicking into place.
Maybe tomorrow while waiting for my flight, I’d look into the departments out here. Get a head start and make a plan.
I heard the clink of my belt, followed by the feel of it being pulled from the loops of my jeans, and looked down to see Grace smiling at me, amused.
“Turn off your worry, Sawyer.” She dropped the leather to the floor, the carpet dulling the clank of the buckle. “Just be here,” she added on a whisper.
Grace
For once, I was completely content with my course of action. It was as if, when I decided to cross this bridge, life suddenly made sense.
And go figure, it was Sawyer who seemed to be holding back right now. His kiss at the front door and the bulge in his pants told me he was truly on the same page, but it was amusing to see him in his own faraway place. The change in him was extremely subtle, one that not many people would see, so the fact that I saw it made whatever we were doing feel completely right.
We would figure it all out.
But right now, I wasn’t worried about tomorrow or next week. Not even next year.
Right now, I wanted this man in my bed.
Five years ago, he showed me what a great night of sex could be like, and not a single night after topped it since. Maybe it really wasn’t as great as
I remembered, but I was ready to figure out if it was or not.
Even if sex with Sawyer was mediocre, which I highly doubted it would be, I would take it over blah sex with another man. Sawyer was where my heart was. Where it had always been.
After I removed his belt, the flip was switched.
Gone were the frantic kisses paired with slow hands, and in their place was a rush of motions as both of our hands intermixed, disrobing one another. I cleared his shirt from his body; he lowered my shorts—that I wore with nothing underneath—and I stepped out of the flannel material, leaving me in my long shirt and nothing else. I lifted my arms to help Sawyer remove my sleep shirt and before I could put my hands back on the warm skin of his taut abdomen, his hands were unbuckling his jeans.
I moved my hands to lower his zipper but he put his hand in front of me.
“Let me do it.”
I stepped back, put off, and looked up at him with a brow raised. Really?
“God, Grace, stop looking at me like that,” he groaned. His voice was strained with need. “I just…You’re fucking naked and I want to press my lips all over your body, but I gotta get this fucking gun off.”
I forgot about his gun. “Oh. Yeah.” I crossed my arms, slightly uncomfortable with the fact that they made a shelf for my boobs. However, I was intrigued. I watched as he pulled the holster out of the inside waistband of his jeans, held there by just two little clips. When he looked around for a place to put it, I pointed to my single nightstand. “You can put it there.”
He moved around me. The man moved so fluidly it was like watching him float through my room. He just felt right here, in my space. With his jeans unbuckled and unzipped, I thought for sure he would just pull them down and be done with it but no, he couldn’t just do the easy thing.
Standing beside the nightstand, he reached for my hand and pulled me toward him as he sat down on the edge of the mattress. I stood between his parted thighs and put my hands on his thick, corded shoulders. The man was built. I was sure there were plenty of cops out there that had ‘dad bods’ and poor physiques, but Sawyer looked like he put in a lot of time at the gym. I pressed my thumbs into the front of his shoulders, digging into the groove of his collar bone, and he moaned.
“We’ll have to play masseuse later,” he said with his eyes closed. He moved his hands to my hips and I squealed, as embarrassing as that was, as he lifted me into his lap, my legs wrapping behind him. My open, uncovered core was against his open fly and just beyond that, past a thin layer of fabric, was the heaviness I ached for.
“God, Grace,” Sawyer said on a moan. “You feel so fucking good, and I’m not even in you yet.”
“I need you, Sawyer,” I whispered, leaning into him and pressing my lips to his. My hands were in his hair and his were sliding from my waist, up, up, up, until he cupped the weight of my breasts in his hands. I wanted to grind myself down onto him, but didn’t think that the delicate skin down there was a good match for his open fly.
I wanted his pants off.
“Off. Your pants,” I murmured against his mouth, trying to wiggle myself back and off of him. Unfortunately, or fortunately, however you looked at it, the little room I gave him allowed him to snake his hand between our bodies and his fingers were there.
The pressure of his middle finger over my clit had my hips rocking. Oh God. He didn’t do anything other than hold his finger there for what felt like a long torturous minute, but he eventually moved it so the tip flicked over the bundle of nerves. So slowly. Good lord, this man. I didn’t remember him being such a tease before.
Again, he slowly flicked his finger over me and now even his mouth was lazily moving over mine, the kiss full but done at a leisurely pace. Was the man trying to kill me?
“Sawyer,” I whined into his mouth, my body ready to explode, but needing a little more.
His answer was a chuckle against my mouth. A chuckle!
But it was quickly groaned out when he moved his fingers back, sliding two fingers into me at once with ease. “So fucking wet.” His eyes were open and on mine, and I had to fight to keep mine open.
I bit on my lower lip, my hips shifting just a fraction, as he pushed his fingers fully into me. I tested the fullness by squeezing around the digits.
“Fuck, Gracie. God I can’t wait to get in you. So tight.” He pulled his fingers out, so freaking slowly again—what was with the slow?—and pushed them back in, this time brushing his thumb over my clit when his fingers were fully inside. I couldn’t keep my mouth on his. I couldn’t concentrate with his hand playing magic below.
As torturous as his going slow was, it was working for me. Each slow push and drag of his thick fingers in me, curling into my warm walls, had me closer and closer to the edge. I drew my knees up, angling my hips in the process. Sawyer moved his elbows to allow my knees to press into his sides, his arms holding them into place. The entire time, his occupied hand was still below, teasing and taunting me.
My head dropped back, feeling too heavy as my body worked at reaching the ledge. Sawyer took that as his cue to ramp up his game. His mouth went to my neck, placing open mouthed kisses that were light enough to not leave a mark, but his hand…
His hand began to quickly move, short and quick moves as my muscles clamped down on him. Close, so close, until finally I was there.
With a shout, I squeezed my knees into his sides and arched my back, bowing my body and bringing my head forward, my chin dropped to my chest. The movement caused my hips to back up slightly, but Sawyer wasn’t finished and wasn’t letting me get away. His fingers continued moving in and out, slowing down, as my body clenched and unclenched around him.
“So fucking wet. God, Gracie, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered into my ear.
I would have smiled but my body was exhausted.
And more than ready for the next part.
Sawyer
No other woman had the same responses as Grace did in my arms.
Sure, they came and yeah, a woman in the throes of passion was a beautiful sight, but Grace just did it for me. Her body cocooned around me as every muscle squeezed—her inner walls around my fingers, her legs against my sides… I couldn’t get closer to her and feel less surrounded by her.
She was everywhere for me and that was exactly where she was always meant to be.
I hadn’t realized how badly I missed this, being with her like this, until now. It was easy to look back five years ago and think that the memories were some sort of adrenaline fueled extravagance, but damn if my memory of being with her wasn’t lying.
I pulled my hand from her soaking heat when her body finally calmed. I wrapped my other arm around her back, urging her to lay her forehead on my shoulder to relax a second longer. I turned my head into her to press a kiss to her ear before standing, loving the soft mewl she made as she wrapped her legs around my hips again.
She’d been wet before coming but now she was even more so, and her open heat against my stomach was leaving marks, but fuck if I cared. She could drip all over me and I’d be a happy man.
I turned us and dropped her back to her bed, following to lay partially on her. I moved my hand to her exposed hip, leaning into her to press kisses along her jaw until I neared her mouth. Her eyes were open but heavy, watching me. When my lips hovered over hers, she parted her lips for me and as badly as I wanted to sweep my tongue in the sweet openness, I played my tongue over the full plushness with slow teasing licks.
“Sawyer.” Her slight whine of my name was fast becoming one of my favorite sounds.
“Gracie,” I mimicked quietly.
“No more teasing,” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s mean.”
I grinned down at her, shifting so my knees were on either side of her, my fisted hands near her shoulders. “Mean?”
“Yes, mean. I need you.” She reached for my pants again. I’d been sporting a semi since the moment she texted, and had been in some state of engorged and achi
ng since she’d opened the door. Her coming apart on my hand only brought me closer to my edge.
I needed her too.
I lowered my upper body to kiss her on the lips one more time before pushing off the bed, removing my jeans in record time.
“Condom,” Grace said, still lying down, and pointing to the nightstand my gun was resting on. I pulled open the drawer and found a few in there. I didn’t even want to think about Grace with condoms, because that brought thoughts of other men she’d been with in the last five years—namely one.
She held out her hand. “Let me?”
Good God, no. “Next time, baby. I can’t… You can’t right now.” The little imp smiled at my discomfort.
I quickly sheathed myself and moved back to the bed, crawling over her as she lay flat on her back. Her head was tilted on the pillow, watching me from above her shoulder. She looked happy and relaxed, and it was a look on her that I could only hope I could see more than just for tonight.
Grace opened her thighs, allowing me room to crawl between them. I wanted my mouth on her.
I kissed her thigh and moved my kisses up her body. At her mound, I pressed my lips to just above the curls there, denying myself the pleasure of tasting her. I continued my kisses up to her navel and let my hands travel further north, the feel of her warm, soft skin under my hands nearly my undoing. When my hand encountered the full flesh of her chest, I moved my lips from her and gently kneaded her breasts, watching as her eyes closed in bliss. I let go of her, but not without a teasing pass of my thumbs over her taut nipples.
I crawled up over her, putting my weight on her lightly. My chest pressed against hers, and down below, the heavy weight of my erection was trapped between my body and the mattress but if I moved my hips a little this way…