The Ortega Project

by Linnea Alexis

  Gratuities had been good tonight. As she sat at the bar counting her wad of bills, she couldn’t help wondering if her woe-is-me demeanor conjured up pity tips.

  On Deanna’s way to the exit, she stopped to invite Grace to a party. “There’ll be a lot of single guys there.”

  “I’m not in the mood for people.”

  Deanna put her arm around her shoulder.

  Don’t say it.

  “Grace, you’re a pretty girl and—”

  Too late. “I know you mean well, but I don’t want to hear it.”

  “But—”

  She gritted her teeth. “Please.”

  “Okay.” Deanna hugged her, and headed for the door. “Ready, Bronco?”

  The bouncer held the door open for Deanna, then left with her. Ever since someone had been seen lurking in the parking lot, part of his job description now included escorting female employees to their vehicles after work. He’d do the same for Grace when she left.

  Someone walked through the front door. Thinking it was Deanna or Bronco, she didn’t give it a second thought and continued counting her tips. When footsteps stopped directly behind her seat, her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Not daring to turn around, she sat straighter on the stool.

  “Grace?” a familiar masculine voice said.

  No! It can’t be! Her stomach flipped. She spun around and faced her preppy ex-fiancé, Jake. A complete opposite of the tall, muscular Roman, her ex was shorter, slightly built, and wore a navy blazer and a white turtleneck.

  “How dare you come in here?”

  He ran a hand through his short blond hair. “We need to talk.”

  “You need to leave.”

  “I screwed up. Please forgive me.” He touched her arm.

  She pulled away. “Get out of here.”

  “Please Grace, I can explain.”

  “Explain? What’s to explain? Why you broke up with me?” Her voice caught. “And now you’ve got the balls to barge into my work and—”

  The front door opened.

  “Hey, how the hell did you get in here?” Bronco yelled.

  Slack-jawed, Jake blurted something unintelligible.

  The bouncer cracked his knuckles and lumbered toward Jake. “It might be a whole lot healthier for you if you moved your skinny, little ass away from her and hightailed it out of here right now.”

  The disgraced ex-fiancé shot her a pleading glance. Instead of falling for his puppy-dog stare, she turned away. Nothing he could say would sway her decision. The damage had been done and, for Jake, there was no do-over.

  She clenched her teeth. “He was just leaving, Bronco.” To Jake, “Weren’t you?”

  Jake glanced from Bronco to Grace. A smirk settled on his face and he swaggered out the door.

  She folded her arms on the bar and rested her head on them.

  The door slammed.

  “I messed up, Grace. He shouldn’t have gotten in here.”

  Squealing tires sounded in the distance—hopefully coming from Jake’s car.

  “Is he gone?”

  “I’ll check.” Bronco rushed out the front door.

  How pathetic she must seem to everybody. Even Bronco knew about Jake dumping her. A lump formed in her throat. Poor little Gracie. Poor, my ass. She whirled around on the barstool.

  “This is bullshit.” She swiped her tips from the bar and stuffed them into her handbag. Where was the party Deanna invited her to?

  Bronco burst inside. “Well, your old boyfriend’s gone.” He wiped moisture from his face. “It’s starting to rain. Better be careful driving home. The roads can be pretty slick. And don’t forget your umbrella.” The bouncer rushed past her and disappeared behind the swinging, double doors.

  A party was happening that had her name written all over it. Maybe if she hurried, she’d catch up to Deanna. She slipped into her jacket and zipped her purse. But Bronco’s urgency to speak with Jerry stopped her from darting out the door without her appointed escort. Behind the swinging doors, the serious tone in Bronco’s voice held her attention.

  “Hey boss, remember that old guy we caught hanging around the parking lot?” Pause. “I saw him again. I tried talking to him, but he drove off.”

  Grace eased herself back down on the barstool and waited for Bronco to walk her to her car.

  Any thoughts Grace entertained about partying disappeared when the rainfall worsened on her way home, pelting her windshield with sheets of rain. The white lines on the highway disappeared, and she prayed she’d make it home without having an accident.

  Right now, nothing sounded better than a hot shower, her favorite snuggly slippers, and that bottle of Merlot—if she made it home in one piece.

  Navigating through the rain-slick streets, thoughts of that son-of-a-bitch, Jake, wormed their way into her brain. How dare he invade her space? The club was her turf, not his. She clenched her teeth and gripped the steering wheel so hard her arms ached.

  And where was Roman? She wanted him. Needed to feel him. Damn him. Damn Jake. Damn, damn, damn.

  The heavy rain let up, replaced by a light drizzle. Lady Luck smiled on her when she found a parking space in front of her building, instead of the lot in back.

  A loud party was happening across the street. She killed the headlights, turned off the engine, and contemplated joining in the fun. In the past, she’d received several invitations from the frat boys. But she was engaged, and never accepted their invitations. Retrieving the wet umbrella from the passenger side floorboard, she opened the car door, and opened the umbrella. She lifted it above the door, grabbed her purse, and stepped outside.

  Music pulsed from the fraternity house. She watched the party animals through the picture window in their living room. Some couples danced. Some made out. Some stood around and chatted. She shook her head. Maybe next time.

  Halfway up the sidewalk to her building, someone grabbed her arm from behind.

  She screamed and spun around, swinging her handbag and open umbrella at the perpetrator.

  “Grace! Stop!” Jake hollered.

  “You! What are you doing here?” She hit him harder. “Leave me alone.”

  Someone pulled Jake away, and hurled him into a patch of Bird of Paradise plants near the front of the building.

  “Roman!” Her knees buckled. She dropped her umbrella and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank God. It’s Jake.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m here now. I won’t let that little punk hurt you.” Wrapping his arms around her and rocking her gently, he rested his cheek on the top of her head.

  Thrashing sounds from the planter drew Grace’s gaze.

  Covered with mud, Jake climbed out of the flower bed. With his hands on his hips and a snarl on his face, he marched toward her. “What the fuck’s going on?”

  “Hey, watch your language around the lady,” Roman shouted.

  “What’d you say, asshole?” Jake charged Roman.

  Meeting his challenge, Roman moved Grace behind him, and took two steps toward Jake. “Come on,” he jeered, cupping his hands, wiggling his fingers, egging Jake into a fight.

  “Stop it. Both of you,” she screamed. “Please.” This brawl had to be prevented. Jake was no match for Roman—physically—who stood half a head taller and had at least thirty pounds of pure muscle over her ex.

  Jake sidestepped Roman and faced her. His eyes narrowed and a smirk crossed his face. “How long have you been fucking him?” His voice broke. “How long?”

  “We’re friends. Nothing’s happened. And even if it had, what’s it to you? We’re not together anymore.” Her throat became dry and she struggled to speak. “How dare you come over here and put the blame on me?” Her knees shook and her body trembled. “How dare you?”

  Roman grabbed Jake’s shoulder. “You better walk away while you still can.”

  Jake pulled his shoulder free. “Don’t worry about it. I’m done with her. She’s all yours.” He gave her a dismissive wave. “You know something, Grace?
You’re a piece of work. Here I was feeling guilty and stuff and you were screwing someone on the side. You’re priceless. Absolutely priceless.” He sneered and stomped across the street where he’d parked his red Mustang. As he drove past, he stuck his arm out the window and flipped them off.

  A van drove through the deep puddle next to the curb where she and Roman stood. Grace jumped back, but not before being splashed with cold, muddy water.

  “Look at me! I’m filthy,” she wailed, staring down at her drenched clothing.

  Roman hugged her. “Come on. Let’s get you inside and out of these wet clothes.”

  “Thank you for being here and helping me get rid of him,” she said, gathering her purse and umbrella from the sidewalk.

  “Believe me, pretty lady, it was my pleasure.” He scooped her into his arms.

  Rain soaked and mud splattered, she rested her head on Roman’s muscular shoulder. She closed her umbrella and dangled it by its handle, along with her handbag.

  Resting in his strong arms, Grace marveled at his strength as he carried her into the building and up the stairs. She unlocked and opened the door. After he’d carried her across the threshold, she pushed the door shut.

  Breathing in his intoxicating scent—slightly musky and totally male—desire flooded through her. She felt wanted. Needed. Alive. Her lips brushed his cheek and moved to his ear, where they settled. She nibbled his earlobe and he groaned. God, how she wanted this man.

  “I need a shower.” With deliberate strides, he carried her into the bathroom and gently set her down. He claimed her mouth with his own and she forgot to breathe.

  She caught sight of herself in the mirror and gasped. Horror replaced passion as raccoon-like eyes stared back at her. Black mascara streaks ran down both cheeks. Dripping wet hair framed her face. After the initial shock of seeing herself in such a state of disarray, she broke out in a fit of giggles.

  “My God, I’m hideous!”

  “I think you’re beautiful,” he said in a voice that made her insides melt.

  She stopped laughing. “No, I’m not.”

  “If I had the number of the guy who splashed you, I’d give him a call and personally thank him.” His lips brushed her eyelids. “I’ve wanted you wet and dirty for a long time.” He ran his index finger down her nose. When it reached her lips, she bit his finger and sucked it into her mouth.

  He groaned and showered her face with baby kisses.

  She released his finger, bracketed his face in her hands, and kissed him gently. But soon passion and want kicked self-control to the curb and she opened her mouth to receive his tongue.

  She stepped back and narrowed her eyes. “You won’t be getting any phone calls, will you?”

  “Not a chance. I left both phones in my truck.”

  “Then kiss me.”

  He lifted her to sit on the vanity and treated her to a hungry, probing kiss. He spread her knees with his hands, maneuvered himself between her thighs, and moved closer until he rubbed against her vee. All the while, his lips never left hers.

  Grace needed him, ached for him. “Roman.” She panted, struggling to catch her breath. She knew what they both wanted and she didn’t try to stop it.

  Her heart pounded against her ribcage when he unzipped her vest and reached around her to unhook her bra. With sleight of hand worthy of Houdini, both garments flew over her damp, stringy hair and out of sight. He cupped her breasts in his large, calloused hands.

  “Please,” she whispered. The moment she’d dreamed about was going to happen. The ache in her soul was matched only by the throbbing in her core. “I want you so bad.” Her hands shook as she unzipped his jeans and took him in her hand. She stroked him. “Impressive.” Her voice hitched.

  “Do you like it?” he whispered.

  “Very much.”

  He hissed and pulled a condom from his pocket and handed it to her. “Would you?” He let his pants drop to the floor and stepped out of them.

  “I. Need. To. Shower. First.” Her whisper came in ragged breaths.

  “Not now. We’ll shower later. Together.” Moving quickly, Roman pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped it onto the tile floor, where it joined the rest of their castoff clothing. He moved Grace to the edge of the vanity and pulled off her jeans, along with her thong.

  Her body pulsed with need. She grasped the foil package that held the promise of paradise and waited for the right time to sheath his length. Her core ached to be filled.

  He cupped her left breast and sucked the right one. He slid his free hand to her moist entrance.

  A moan escaped. She moved against his hand, urging him, begging him as he brought her to the brink. “Now, Roman, please.” She needed to feel him inside her and begged him to hurry.

  He stepped back, allowing her trembling hands to hold and sheath him. When she finished, he spread her thighs further apart and moved between them. His mouth claimed hers as she guided him into her slick entrance. A quiet squeal of pleasure escaped her lips. He lunged forward and filled her completely. She grabbed his shoulders and held on for the wildest ride of her life, sending her over the edge. Waves of bliss surged through her body and she trembled in the aftermath. Exhausted, she collapsed against his broad chest.

  He held her close. “I’m ready for that shower now.”

  10

  With memories of Roman’s passion still fresh in her mind, Grace strolled along the winding, shrub-lined sidewalk to her favorite spot on campus—a low concrete wall, veiled by maple trees, their leaves greener from the rain. The early morning downpour brought out vivid colors of wildflowers planted in large clay pots scattered about

  She sat on the wall, unzipped her hooded sweatshirt and inhaled the fragrance of nearby rose bushes. The early morning hours of lovemaking—on the vanity, during and after their shower—should have exhausted her, instead she felt rejuvenated. Until Roman, she’d never experienced or enjoyed such raw, uninhibited desire. He made her feel beautiful. Wanted.

  A gust of wind whipped strands of hair across her face, blowing away feelings of self-criticism. Her cell phone’s ring interrupted her thoughts. She pulled the phone from her backpack. Caller ID showed Roman’s name.

  A wild flutter began in her stomach and moved lower, much lower, and settled in her core. She took in a deep breath, trying to stay calm, but her heart screamed out his name. Embracing the phone with both hands, she shivered at the sound of his sexy voice asking to see her tonight.

  “I’d love to get together,” she whispered in her most seductive voice.

  “Been thinking about you a lot. I can’t wait.”

  “Me neither.”

  * * *

  Grace

  * * *

  That evening, Grace, wearing a dark green blouse and white slacks, answered the knock on her door. Roman leaned against the doorjamb, a bottle of champagne, frosted with cold, in one hand, a single red rose in the other. Seeing this sexy man, wearing all black and filling the doorway, brought heat to her cheeks and lustful thoughts to her mind.

  He handed her the rose and attacked her mouth with his own. His kisses started out gentle, but soon grew hungry and deep and demanding.

  Kissing him made her dizzy. She rested her head on his shoulder and brought the rose to her nose, breathing in its delicious fragrance. “It’s beautiful.”

  His eyes misted. “Not as beautiful as you.” Handing her the champagne bottle, he scooped her up and nudged the door closed behind him.

  Hope of things to come took her breath away. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you on a trip.”

  Grace set the champagne on the coffee table and splayed her hand on his broad chest. “Where are we going?”

  Roman drew in a ragged breath. “To paradise.”

  In anticipation of his promise, she wrapped her arms around his neck and feathered tiny kisses on his cheek.

  He lowered her onto the bed.

  And her journey began.

  11<
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  The following morning, Grace struggled to pay attention to the lecture. Though her eyes focused on the whiteboard in front of the classroom, her mind was fixated on tonight’s date with Roman.

  Since she’d started seeing him, her studies began to suffer—especially her research project. He’d become a distraction. A pleasant one, but a distraction just the same.

  Their relationship was moving too fast, taking her on an emotional rollercoaster ride. High one minute, worrying their affair would end, the next. He consumed her thoughts and invaded her dreams. Shivers skittered up and down her spine whenever he locked her in his smoldering gaze, whenever he touched her.

  After the lecture, she stayed in the science building and found a quiet corner in an empty classroom to pore over data from their latest experiment. She’d been tasked with writing a report describing her team’s success in developing a pesticide made completely from natural ingredients. And now, thanks to her involvement with Roman, the report was overdue. This was crunch time. Determined to stay put until she had finished the first draft, she pushed up the sleeves of her burgundy tunic, and made herself comfortable at a small table.

  Three hours later, the first draft was complete. She headed home to prepare for her date. Tonight, she’d surprise Roman by turning the tables on him. Tonight, she’d become the sexual aggressor. Tonight.

  Back at Grace’s apartment, two bottles of champagne chilled in the fridge. A Victoria’s Secret bag containing various flavored body oils, and edible body frostings sat in the center of her bed—waiting to be sampled and enjoyed.

  She’d spent too much money on a black, see-through bustier and matching thong. But it would be worth it to see Roman’s reaction.