by Loraine, Kim
When the song was over, the crowd was quiet for a breath. Then the bar filled with whooping and cheering from the stag night and light applause from the bachelorette party. She quickly became aware of her surroundings and blushed all the way to her toes. Drew raked his fingers through his hair, took her hand, and helped her down from the stage.
“Mate, if you don’t take her home, I will,” one of the members of the stag night said.
Drew shot him a steely glare and put his hand possessively on her lower back as he rushed her out of the bar and around the corner. The night air was chilly and her coat was still inside.
“Drew, what are you doing? It’s cold out here.”
Drew pushed her back against the wall of the building behind her. His eyes were burning dark pools.
“Good God, Grace.” His voice was hoarse as he hoisted her up so her face was level with his.
She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips and tilted her mouth to meet him.
It had been two weeks since the storm, and their dinner dates were usually rushed. All they were able to do together was eat and say goodnight. Light kisses and gentle touches over the course of their evenings culminated in a rush of pent-up desire.
The tension between them crackled like static electricity. His hands tangled in her hair as their lips met; her hips ground against him while his tongue slipped into her mouth. She was vaguely aware of the cold brick wall pressing uncomfortably into her back, but didn’t mind enough to change the situation.
She took Drew’s full lower lip between her teeth and sucked on it. He tasted faintly of beer and peppermint, an unusual combination. He growled low in his throat and pushed his hips against her, his arousal plainly obvious.
“I need to get you home. With me. Now,” he said against her lips.
She nodded as he placed her feet on the ground. She was so aroused she could barely walk from the daze. What was she going to tell Valerie? Her worry abated as soon as she stepped back into the bar. Her friend was surrounded by the bachelor party and had apparently become part of the bachelorette group. Grace caught her eye and waved as she grabbed her coat and purse off the chair at their table. Valerie gave her a knowing look and waved back.
Her heart pounded in her chest as they walked the four blocks from the pub to Drew’s house. They were silent the whole way, his hand encircling hers. She was comforted by the small circular motion he was making with his thumb on her palm.
As they started up the steps to the front door, he turned and looked her in the eye.
“It’s not much, but I like it here.” His gaze fell to his shoes.
She reached up and took his face in her hands. “Come on,” she whispered as she pulled him down for a kiss. His lips were warm and his breath came in a sharp gasp when she reached into his front pockets with both hands to retrieve his keys.
The house was tidy, small, and cozy. Drew led her to his bedroom, his hand slightly shaking as he opened the door. She looked around and immediately noticed similarities to John’s apartment back home. Neutral tones, minimalistic, no clutter. She pushed thoughts of John to the back of her mind and turned her eyes from the room to the man in it. He was biting his lower lip and staring at her, unsure.
She closed the distance between them and lifted her shirt over her head. He ran his fingertips along her collarbones, bringing the straps of her bra with them as they grazed her arms. He lowered his head and kissed along her jaw and down her neck while his fingers found the front clasp of her bra, this time with no trouble. Breasts free, his hands cupped her and she sighed.
She leaned into him, reaching around to pull his shirt up and off. Her hands roamed up and down his back and shoulders, feeling the muscles move as he continued to undress her.
He fell to his knees and slowly kissed his way from her sternum to her belly button. His hair tickled the sensitive skin at her ribs, causing a soft giggle to escape.
“Ticklish?”
“Very.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He traced her ribs with his fingers. When he reached her waistband, he stopped kissing her and took time to unbutton and slowly remove her pants.
She said a silent thank you, realizing she’d chosen her lacy black panties.
Drew looked up at her from his position at her feet and smiled, a wicked and dangerous grin. His hands ran up the backs of her legs and up over her hips as he pulled her closer to him. His lips traced the indentation of her navel and he moved across her belly to nip at one hip. Hitching his thumbs inside the band of her panties, he slowly guided them off her hips and down to the floor.
“Lay down,” he murmured against her skin, lightly pushing her back so her knees hit the bed.
She threaded her fingers in his soft hair and pulled slightly to get his attention. His soulful eyes found hers as she descended onto the bed. He followed, crawling across her, never breaking the connection.
She looked down his body and pouted. “Why do you still have so many clothes on?”
Drew cocked one eyebrow and grinned. “You’ve been ignoring your duties, Miss McConnell.”
“I can fix that.”
“Let’s see then.”
She reached down to the waistband of his jeans, popped the top button, and lowered the zipper. She slid her hand down the front of his pants to discover the rigid erection hidden beneath. He hissed in a breath and rested his forehead against hers as she squeezed and stroked his arousal. Entranced, she watched his face; his eyes were closed and with every stroke he tensed and bit his lip. She felt a pool of desire build between her legs as she watched him.
“Grace . . . I can’t continue like this . . . If you don’t stop soon . . .”
She released him and he quickly shucked his remaining clothes. He placed a kiss on her belly, trailing up her chest and neck to her lips. His tongue pressed against her mouth, forcing her to open for him, as he reached down between her legs. She felt him groan against her lips as he found her slick and ready.
“Now, Drew.”
He nodded once, rolled on a condom, and placed himself at her entrance. Grace, impatient and eager, wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her hips, pulling him forward and sheathing him to the hilt.
“Oh, God.” His moan sent tingles racing through her.
It had been a year since she’d been with a man and she felt every tiny movement he made, stretching her. Her skin was burning and her legs trembled as he began to move slowly inside her.
“Grace, you’re so tight. I don’t know how long I can last,” he said through gritted teeth.
She could tell he was holding back, trying desperately to make the moment last. Feeling the familiar pressure as it built, she knew she was close, but not close enough. As if reading her thoughts, he repositioned himself, pushing even deeper, sending her to the brink.
“Faster. Oh, please, I’m close,” she said, almost a whisper.
Drew picked up the pace, his eyes closed tightly in concentration as he tried to hold it together. Needing the connection, she reached up and took his face in her hands.
“Look at me.”
His chocolate eyes opened with a pained look and she shattered around him. Her cries filled the dimly lit room. He followed, almost instantly, pulsing long and hard with a guttural sound that sent shivers up her spine.
The last thing she remembered was whispering, “John.”
Chapter 10
Grace was warm, safe, and comfortable in her cocoon of blankets. Dimly aware of the sound of John snoring softly next to her, she scooted her body against his and burrowed under the covers to be closer. He was naked and warm. She reached a hand behind her and stroked him long and hard.
His hips pumped forward and he reached for her, palming one breast and bringing his lips to
her shoulder while he entered her from behind. She moaned as he thrust into her, slowly at first. His hand left her breast and drifted down to the juncture between her thighs where his fingers deftly stroked the bundle of nerves waiting there. As he moved faster, she could feel his breath on her neck become harsh and unsteady.
Her orgasm hit her unexpectedly, the intensity of it had her curling her toes and biting back a sob. She’d never felt this connected with him before and wasn’t prepared for such an intense experience. As her walls clenched around him, a groan came from deep in his chest and he hurriedly pulled out of her, spilling himself on the sheets.
A light laugh brought her out of her semi-conscious state. “Drew!” she exclaimed in shock.
Her eyes shot open as she realized where she was and who she was with. Guilt washed over her and she felt her face redden. She attempted to compose herself and control the shame rising inside her.
“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t have a condom on. You took me by surprise.”
“I . . . I think I was dreaming in the beginning, too. I guess naked sleeping can be dangerous.” She winced at the last remark. Naked sleeping can be dangerous?
He chuckled as he pushed himself up on his elbows to avoid the mess on the sheets and kissed her gently.
“Right, well, I’ll just go clean up then.”
She smiled and nodded as he headed out of the bedroom. She sat up and dropped her head in her hands. Her mind was racing as she realized the gravity of what she’d just done. She’d just had sex with Drew, thinking he was John. And without protection. She wasn’t on any birth control and although she knew she was free of disease and was reasonably sure he was as well, that kind of behavior was risky at best.
Her heart pounded against her ribcage and she was suddenly short of breath. The tears came quickly and uncontrollably in great, gulping sobs. She didn’t know what she was crying about. Was it grief for finally being with someone after John? Was it because she wanted him to be John?
Drew must have heard her cries. He rushed into the bedroom and knelt beside her. She turned away from him, knowing she was a snotty, red-faced mess.
“What is it, love? Have I done something to upset you?”
She continued to sob as he pulled her off the bed and onto his lap on the floor. He stroked her back and held her tightly to him as her cries eventually subsided. Her heart felt like it was breaking in two when she looked into his eyes, full of concern and bewilderment.
“I’m . . . I . . . I’m sorry. I haven’t, I mean . . . it’s been so long.”
Drew’s eyes widened as he tried to understand what she was saying.
She took a steadying breath. “There’s something about me you need to know.”
Drew gave her a level look. “You’re a time traveling alien?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. She was sure her face was puffy and looked like hell.
“Yep, you got me,” she said, and with a huge sniff, stood up.
“Come on then. Let’s get dressed and I’ll fix some coffee. You can tell me over breakfast.”
Drew led her out of the bedroom.
Drew’s house was not as small as Grace initially thought when they’d passed through fleetingly on their way to his bedroom the night before. The kitchen was a galley-style space, which left room for a breakfast nook by the window and a large living area.
She looked around as he cooked eggs and toast for their breakfast. Coffee was brewing next to his tea and the smell of food made her stomach rumble. Pictures lined the mantle and walls. Photos of him with friends and people who must be family. She picked up a framed picture of him with the old man from Ten’s—she thought his name was David—and a lovely woman with beautiful, dark ebony skin. They were standing in front of Ten’s, arms around each other, smiling brightly.
“Who are these people? I recognize the man from the grocery.”
Drew flipped a dish towel onto his shoulder and came out of the kitchen with a cup of steaming coffee and a plate of eggs and toast. He set them down on the table and took the frame from her.
“Well, that’s me,” he teased, pointing to himself. His fingers drifted across the faces of the two others. “That’s me mum and dad.”
“What? I’m sorry to sound ignorant, but is she your step-mother?”
Drew laughed. “No, I was adopted. My parents couldn’t have kids.”
Her heart leapt in her chest. The word adopted rang in her ears over and over as he went back to the kitchen to bring out his own breakfast. She walked slowly to the table and picked up her cup. The mug was hot, and warmth spread through her fingers into her hands, giving her something to focus on.
“Why the picture in front of the grocery?”
“Oh, that was the day my dad transferred ownership to me. Mum got sick. Cancer. I came back home to run things so Dad could take care of her during treatments.” His face darkened with sadness. “That was five years ago.”
“And now? How is she?”
He sat at the table and stared into his tea. He absently traced the edge of the cup with his finger. “She hasn’t got long. The doctor says it’s a matter of months now. Dad’s just trying to make her comfortable at this point.”
She reached across the table and took his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head and pulled his hand from hers. “Nothing any of us can do about it. Now, let’s eat so you can share your deep, dark secret.”
She picked up a slice of toast and spread butter across the rough surface while she thought of how she could approach the topic of John.
“You’re not married are you?” Drew’s voice sounded light and teasing, but one look at his face betrayed the carefully masked words.
“No. Not married.”
The table was scratched and she traced a deep groove with one finger, avoiding his gaze.
“Grace, you’re making me nervous. Is there another bloke?”
A tear spilled down her cheek.
“There is, isn’t there?” He pushed back his chair, but before he could stand, she touched his hand.
“There was.” She took a moment to control herself and raised her eyes to his face. “His name was John.”
Drew slowly settled back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes burning holes in the table top.
“He died last year.”
His gaze shot up to meet hers. “Died?”
She could feel the trembling in her lower lip begin to take hold and blew out a frustrated breath.
“He was a firefighter. He died in the line of duty. It was . . . horrible. The worst day of my life.”
She watched as his expression changed from one of distrust and jealousy to one she was much more familiar with. He reached forward and touched her hand.
“Grace, I’m so—”
“Please don’t say you’re sorry. You asked, I’m telling you.” It came out harsher than she’d intended, but the last thing she wanted was one more person’s pity.
“How long were the two of you, you know, together?”
“Five years.”
Drew raked a hand through his hair, then inhaled sharply. “You loved him?”
She nodded. “I’m not sure I ever stopped.”
His lips thinned into a tight line. “So, the crying in the bedroom, that was because of John?”
“I suppose. It’s just that, I haven’t been with anyone since John. I haven’t let anyone get close to me. I just couldn’t.”
“In a year?”
She nodded again, tears clogging her throat.
Drew sat back in his chair and took a long drink of his tea.
“I get it.” He ran his palm over his face and took another deep breath. “Look, I care for you. I want to be with you. But if you aren’t ready, if y
ou’re still healing from John, I can step back. I . . . I’m not that man. I’m not here to be your rebound. I also can’t share you with him, live with his ghost.”
“No, no, Drew. It’s not that. I think it just overwhelmed me and felt sort of like I was cheating on him, being unfaithful to his memory or something. Being with you was, well . . .” She struggled to find the right words. “ . . . not to put too fine a point on it, I think it was the best in my life. I’ve never felt that way with anyone, not even with John.” She sighed, realizing it was the truth.
Drew’s face split into a grin, pride showing.
“The thing is, I don’t know how much I can let go of. John was such a big part of who I was. He isn’t some ex-boyfriend who left me. I thought we were forever. He was the love of my life. If he hadn’t died—”
“You’d still be with him.” A flash of jealousy passed over Drew’s face, quickly replaced with a thoughtful stare at his plate. He remained silent as he finished his breakfast.
“Drew, are you all right?”
He smiled at her. “Oh, I’m always all right.”
So there was someone in her life. Someone important, loved, and lost.
Drew ran his hand across his face as he looked down into the papers covering his desk. Planning an expansion was hard by itself, but doing so while preoccupied with thoughts of Grace was impossible. He needed to get away, to go somewhere he could think, maybe take Grace, too.