How could a woman walk into a room and the first thing he thought about was having sex with her?
And why not?
She took his hand, pulling him up the stairs. He loved how determined she looked, as if she were ready to take on the big bad ogre and battle over the color of his shirt. Well, she could play stylist if that was her thing. He planned on playing something a bit more primal, more hedonistic.
“Why are you being such a pain in the rear?” Tamara asked, once they were in his bedroom.
“I was simply stating a point of fact to Wendy, if she had bothered to listen.”
“You want to be ornery. I saw you have a fit when the guy hit the wall with the lights.”
Grant hit the door shut with the heel of his boot. “He almost took out a chunk of my wall.”
She looked at the closed door and then at him. A slow grin crept over her face. She shook her head, already reading the naked desire in his eyes that he hadn’t bothered to hide.
“Maybe I need to be punished.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
He pulled her close against his body. “Or else...”
“You’re so baaaad.” Her mouth opened slightly over the vowel. The sight of her tongue shot electric volts straight to his arousal. “And you’re so hard.” Her hand cupped him with a slow stroke that had the power to weaken his knees.
“Damn, woman, you are dangerous for my health.”
“Sit down.” She pushed him back onto one of the armchairs in the room.
“You are so bossy.”
“Only when necessary.”
“And you count this as one of those times?” He reached for her face. He wanted to pull her closer and take claim to her mouth. But she wasn’t playing nice. Her intent stare into his eyes told him that she wasn’t going to be playing nice for the next few minutes.
She placed her foot on his thigh.
“Pull down my hose.”
He slowly slid his hand from her ankle, over her calf, past her knee and along her thigh. He found the garter clip and unfastened it without taking his eyes from her face.
Without prompting, he performed the task on the other leg. This time his fingers lingered at the top of her thigh.
Her breathing hitched and she didn’t exhale until his hands returned to their original mission and removed the hose.
“Were you planning to seduce me?” he inquired. The answer didn’t matter.
He rested one hand gently against her inner thigh. With deliberate intent in his wandering fingers, he mounted an ascent up her leg.
His body hardened, ready for the treasure hunt that his fingers sought.
There.
His fingers brushed the moist lips of her vagina. She wasn’t wearing panties. Her wicked smile let him know that she had planned this all along.
She wiggled her hips ever so slightly, greeting his fingers with her sign of welcome—her moistened clit.
He played, fingering the sensitive nub and the inner and outer folds as if she were his musical instrument, warming her up for the perfect-pitch performance.
Her slight tremor and soft moan coaxed him to the next level.
Grant quickly undid the zipper on her skirt. The sight of her triangular gift made his arousal lurch. But he wasn’t ready to give in just yet. Not before he had a chance to savor and explore her with his fingers, then his tongue and then his penis.
The fantasy sucked his breath away. The reality gave him energy. In one smooth move, he stood and flipped her onto the chair, spreading her legs wide for his enjoyment.
“What about the crew downstairs?” she asked.
“They can’t join in.” Grant’s mock outrage earned him a soft punch to the chest.
“Wendy’s waiting for you to change.”
“And it’s taking me a while. So, sue me.”
“They are getting paid by the hour.” Tamara moaned as his fingers stroked her in all the right places.
His eyebrow cocked.
“I’m sure this was exactly what was on your mind when you came through the door today. I could smell that you wanted me.”
“You’re too arrogant for your own good.” She ran her hands over his head, stroking his ears, pulling softly on the lobes.
Grant leaned forward and blew softly on her clit. Her hips shifted upward, seeking more from him. He was glad to oblige.
He repeated his cycle of blowing soft whispers of breath on her clit, teasing the sensitive folds with his fingers and probing her with his tongue until she creamed.
Every part of her was beautiful, and her natural wetness upon his finger’s entry delighted him. It was as if her body was screaming that she wanted him to make love to her.
“Still think I’m arrogant?” He only barely removed his gaze from between her legs to her face before returning his full attention to her natural treasure.
Her fingers curled along the armrest, the tips digging into the fabric. Her neck arched and her hips rocked up and back in a dance with his fingers.
“My hair will be a mess,” she hissed.
He kissed her clit.
“I’m going to be so embarrassed.” She sighed.
“Embarrassed is if I make you scream so loud that they hear you.”
She instantly stilled. Her anticipation thrilled him.
His tongue and teeth worked in tandem. First, he bathed her with long, deep strokes before he sucked her sensitive lips between his teeth.
The first time, she moaned. She practically bit her lip to keep the sound muffled.
Grant took it up a notch after her natural juice had lubricated his fingers. His exploration into the cave between her legs continued as he massaged and coaxed her body’s response. He watched her closely for the point when he hit her G-spot. He watched for when she couldn’t hold on, couldn’t hold back and had to let go.
Her body twitched, and he continued waking up its secret paths until he heard her sharp inhalation. Pressing into her with his fingers, he raised up from between her legs and covered her breast with his mouth. He sucked while stroking and adding pressure to both sensitive points. She arched back, frozen into a contorted position, a guttural groan escaping into the vast room. She stayed in suspended animation for several seconds before her body relaxed in his hands.
* * *
Tamara couldn’t believe that she’d gotten the booty call she’d craved, but now the entire house would know. Grant and his magic fingers had taken her on an out-of-body experience, and she was sure she’d lost consciousness at some point. He would not stop grinning as she slowly put on her clothes.
In the throes of her passion, she’d had no ounce of shame. With the crew working just one floor below, she didn’t know how she’d face them.
“Stop looking so freaked out. At least you managed to get me into the blue shirt.” Grant took a deep breath and plunged into the deep end. “I want you to have a key to the house. Actually, it’s a code, but...yeah.”
“Oh.” Tamara took the paper on which he’d scribbled numbers and letters. “Big step.”
“For big feet.” He winked, before planting a hot, juicy kiss on her mouth.
Tamara squeezed her eyes shut. Her craving for this man was beyond unbearable. Of course there was the addictive sexual side to their relationship that reminded her of her womanhood. But now a softer, more vulnerable place was also opening up within her. As much as she needed the physical tango of their flesh touching and orgasms firing off, she found that she also craved being in Grant’s arms, sharing their thoughts and feelings, opening up to each other for comfort. It was a romantic feeling that she hadn’t realized she wanted.
The word romantic had been a dirty word in her vocabulary. Yet every moment that she spent with Grant changed her. He had the pow
er to knock down wall after wall of her defenses.
At this rate, she was screwed.
They rejoined the crew downstairs. Grant headed down first, while Tamara followed several steps behind, self-consciously smoothing her hair into place. No one seemed to notice their extended absence. Instead, Wendy approached him with an approving grin over his choice of the pastel blue shirt.
“How am I doing?” Grant asked between takes.
“Fine.” Tamara hadn’t been paying attention, but she had already seen him in action in front of the camera. Once he had the key points of the topic, his natural talent for public speaking took hold.
“This has turned out to be a lot of work. Seeing things behind the scenes gives me a new perspective on documentaries.” He surveyed the area still littered with the equipment. They had one more day of filming at his home before turning their attention to the company.
Tamara nodded.
“Stick around.” Grant moved through his living room, adjusting decorative items, straightening furniture and shifting rugs.
“Are you asking me?”
“Why should I? You can stay if you want or leave if you want.”
She walked over to her pocketbook.
“Was that the wrong answer?”
“I guess today it is.” Tamara adjusted her bag over her shoulder. She joined in with the crew, who also prepared to depart. Discovering the depth of her new feelings for Grant rattled her. Maybe the feelings were one-sided. Grant didn’t seem to care one way or the other whether she was around. Now every move he made, anything he said, she would second-guess.
By going against her desire to stay, she felt emboldened and strong. She had to prove that walking away from him wouldn’t kill her.
Oprah would be proud.
But why did she feel like crap? She exited the house and headed to her car. Her keys dropped out of her hand as she tried to unlock the door. She was determined to brave it out.
“Tamara, would you stay for dinner?”
She inserted the key into the lock.
“Please.”
She turned the key.
“I want you to come back.”
“Why?”
“Well, my mom just called from the main house and said that I couldn’t come back until you came to the house.”
Tamara stared at Grant’s reflection in the window. Was he kidding? No smile broke his countenance.
“I can’t go back in there without you,” Grant declared.
Tamara turned and rested her hips against the door.
“Meeting parents is a big deal. I don’t take that lightly.”
“Nor do I.” His gaze went deep in her soul.
“Really, from the confirmed bachelor?” Tamara mocked.
“It’s only a dinner.”
“But it’s your parents.”
Grant nodded. “It’s another milestone,” he declared. “Are you okay with that?”
Tamara paused and looked at him.
“Yeah, I think that I am.” Tamara locked the car and headed back toward the house. She took Grant’s offered hand. For the moment, the waves of tension had quieted. They’d face the next challenge together.
“We can head over to my parents’ in an hour.”
“Now I’m nervous. I hope that your mother’s not going to too much trouble.” What was his mother expecting? This sounded like a command performance.
Grant shrugged. “She’s the type who would wear a huge Easter hat on any day of the week, if the mood hits. She marches to her own beat. The family story is that she proposed to my father. What you see is what you get with her.”
“Sounds like she’s got a lot of energy.”
“To put it mildly. Stay strong...I got your back.” Grant smiled and playfully nudged her ahead of him.
Chapter 11
Tamara entered Grant’s house for the second time that day. As the last SUV filled with crew members left the premises, the bustle that had surrounded the area was now gone. The quiet that always seemed to infiltrate and take over the space resettled over the house. Even his housekeeper moved through the rooms on whisper mode. Grant excused himself while she stayed put in the living room.
The tall cathedral ceilings allowed streams of natural light to illuminate the rooms. She loved that, besides refurbishing the floors and adding a few built-in bookcases, Grant had maintained the integrity of the Tudor-style guest home.
The house had four bedrooms with six full bathrooms. Grant had managed to hold on to his bachelor-style decorations, with computers and various related gadgets overtaking nearly all the rooms, except the living room and his bedroom.
“We have to wait to be summoned.” Grant walked into the room, dressed as if he was going to a business-casual event.
“Well, if you’re getting dressed up, so am I. I think I have a few clothes in your closet.”
“Just hurry.” Grant looked at his watch. She’d seen him this tense only when the film crew had started filming. She quickly changed and joined him again in the living room.
“What shall we do while we wait? Hey, I’ve got a fun activity.” Tamara laughed.
Grant shook his head vigorously. “This time we keep our clothes on.”
“Just kidding.” Tamara raised her hand to halt any further protest. “I’m going to see your mother, and I don’t want her to pick up on anything.”
“Good. Because my mother always knows stuff before I tell her.”
“Okay, your mother is sounding like I may need to be worried. What about your father?”
“Oh, he’ll love you.” Grant looked up. “Not that my mother won’t.”
“Yeah, right.” Tamara exhaled. Why had she agreed to this torture?
“How about we play checkers?”
“I’m not good at that,” Tamara complained.
“Great. This will be the redo of our golf challenge.”
Tamara laughed at Grant’s tenacity. If winning at a board game would rebuild his ego, then she was willing to play along.
They played two games, and she won both. They started in on a third game.
“I think you lied to me. You do know how to play.” Grant pushed his piece across the checkerboard. His new position on the board was a neutral spot. He studied the board with such intensity that Tamara couldn’t help but chuckle.
“I didn’t say that I didn’t know how to play. I just said that I’m not good.”
When it was her turn, Tamara studied the board and shifted her piece to the left. She spied the line to the king position.
Grant moved another piece.
She allowed her gaze to rest on his progress, noting that with another move he could shift into position to take out two of her pieces.
However, she still had that path that would take her straight to the crowning position. She smiled. He would have to come up with another challenge. The game would be over in a snap.
But only if she moved that piece down the diagonal path.
She hesitated, and finally she moved a different piece.
Grant pushed his piece into another spot, blocking any chance she had to stop his advance to be crowned.
Tamara almost wanted to wipe away his smug smile. But she had no desire to kill his joy over winning, especially since she knew she had made it easy for him.
He pulled her chin toward him and kissed her mouth. “Congratulations to me. I’m the greatest.” He winked. “Go ahead, agree with me.”
“Is this how you ended up a computer nerd? The neighborhood kids booted you out of the sandbox and sent you packing to play with your computer in your room?”
His smiled vanished. “Now that’s just cruel.” He kissed her again. “But yes, that sounds right.”
&n
bsp; “Now we’re even,” she said.
“We’ve always been even, which is why I like you.”
A compliment had never boosted her spirit as this one did. More than boosting her spirit, his declaration lit hope in her heart because she could see his sincerity.
“It’s time.” Grant looked down at his watch.
The declaration might as well have been cold water dousing her. Tamara stepped away from the checkerboard and headed for the nearby mirror. She styled her hair and freshened her makeup. Not that she expected the matriarch to do a body check, but she made sure to wear underwear and hosiery with no snags.
Becky would be over-the-moon happy to see her acting like a young teen going out with her first love.
Love?
“Oh, hell no,” she muttered under her breath.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. I’m all set.” She stood, still overcome with a case of jitters. “Heading to the bathroom.”
Tamara closed the door and took a moment to calm her nerves. Had she trapped herself? What had happened to blocking out Grant’s sexual power?
Instead she seemed to be soaking up every ounce of whatever sexual energy he exuded. Now she was going to meet his mother. A meeting of that magnitude required days, not one hour, of preparation. She got small comfort from observing Grant’s nervousness. Normally, she’d find that funny and tease him. But if he was this nervous about meeting his mother, then she should be petrified.
She really wanted to see how Grant worked his charm between the two parents. So far, he seemed to be a big mama’s boy. She hoped that Mama Bear didn’t approach in full defense mode over her son. What if she wasn’t considered good enough?
Good enough for what, though? Girlfriend? Lover? Bride? How much sway did Mama Bear have?
Tamara wet her fingers with cold water and touched her cheeks and neck. It helped cooled down the intense debate that raged within her head. Time to go and face the unknown.
They walked from the smaller house to the large family mansion under the brilliance of the late-afternoon sun. She was grateful for Grant’s hand holding hers. He definitely appeared nervous. They both remained quiet as they strolled, lost in their own thoughts.
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