The Road to Redemption: Finding Grace, Book 1

by DM Davis

  She adjusts the music’s volume with the pounding of our feet. “Is this okay?”

  “It’s perfect.” She’s perfect. There’s no one word answers from her—rarely, if ever. She’s detailed-oriented. I appreciate that trait thoroughly.

  We start out slowly, but within a few minutes she’s walking fast, swinging her arms, focusing ahead, lost in thought. She walks faster as each song’s beat increases. Before I know it, we’re running. She keeps it up for two songs, and then the next song slows down to a fast walk. Then back to running. We cycle through the fast then slower songs a few times. She rebounds each time, going faster than before.

  I’m breathing hard and soaked in sweat. She’s as sweaty but not as out of breath. My Dove is in great shape to be able to keep this pace for an hour. The last five minutes we slow down to cool off.

  At the end of the hour, she stops her treadmill, steps off, and starts to stretch. I do the same, copying her. She’s far more limber than I am, but then I knew that from the group and individual self-defense classes.

  “How many times a week do you do this?” I ask, still working to catch my breath.

  “Four times, sometimes more and sometimes less. I try to keep it at four times, as it doesn’t take long to lose the stamina to keep it up. It took me a long time to build up to an hour. The alternating walking and running really made a difference, plus the music.”

  Before hitting the weight machines, we rehydrate and swab off our sweat. Hopping on a machine, she starts with her arms and switches to legs. She continues to alternate, doing three sets each time.

  I work my way through the other machine, and then we switch. She’s precise and focused, keeping tension in and out of each rep, never letting the weight slam down or fully resting between reps. I never thought working out with my girlfriend would be so arousing, particularly when she does the chest fly, watching her breasts rise and fall with each rep. I shake my lusty thoughts out of my head and focus on my own workout—what’s left of it.

  When done with the weight machines, she stretches again, then lies on the floor on her back.

  I move on to the free weights and catch her in the mirror watching me. “Enjoying the view?”

  “Immensely.” She beams, dabbing at the sweat on her chest and neck.

  “I suppose that’s only fair, considering I’ve been watching your every move since we walked in here.” She always has my attention.

  “Really?”

  “Really.” Someday, she won’t be shocked to know she’s all I see. Perhaps right after she unconsciously strides around naked in front of me.

  She smiles, bending her knees with her hands flat on the mat at her sides, and closes her eyes. I continue with the free weights, watching her chest rise and fall as she relaxes and cools down.

  When I finish, I quietly stretch out beside her, close but not so close that our bodies touch. She doesn’t move. Based on her breathing, I believe she may be asleep. She’s beautiful even post-workout. Her nipples push against her sports bra, visible under her white tee. I lightly run my finger over one and still when her breath catches. I touch the other until she arches but doesn’t open her eyes.

  Eliminating the gap between us, I palm her breast and kiss her lightly on the mouth. She makes a quiet noise. I rake my thumb across her nipple, prompting her to kiss me back. I tug gently on her bottom lip before sinking in.

  She opens her eyes and graces me with a crooked smile. “Careful. My boyfriend is rather protective.”

  “He is, is he?”

  She scans the room, arching her back, pressing her breast into me when she looks over her head. “He was here a minute ago, but I guess he’s gone.”

  Pushing on my shoulder, I let her roll me to my back. Her lips press to mine as she straddles my hard-on, never breaking our kiss. Her soft moan penetrates our liplock as she flexes her hips. “Someone’s happy to see me.”

  “Always.” I clasp her bum, holding her tight as I grind my cock against her core. Her moan spurs me on, deepening our kiss and repeating the motion.

  She pulls away, panting. “Maybe we should continue this elsewhere, given that we’re not really alone.” She looks over my shoulder through the glass-paned door that stands between us and the clubhouse and office beyond.

  “I suppose you’re right.” I help her to her feet as I stand, adjusting myself as I go.

  Once we’re out of view from the glass door, I pin her against the wall, kissing her with the passion raging through my body. She gives it back to me in equal measure.

  Stopping eventually, I scan her face. “Let’s go home.”

  I help her out of her shoes and into her boots only to end up in another make-out session that ends in heavy breathing and both of us ready to fall over the edge.

  We eventually make it out of the gym, all bundled up in our winter gear, and head back to her apartment. No discussion of her trusting me to keep her on her feet—she just does.

  Inside, the sexual tension is palpable as we shed our outerwear. Once done, I pull her close. “Come shower with me.”

  Not saying a word, she takes my hand and leads me to her bathroom.

  AFTER OUR SHOWER—AN AMAZING SHOWER, even better than our bath the night before—I started making chicken soup for lunch while Theo checked in on his family. As timing had it, my sister called to see if I was surviving the ice-in and advise she’s coming to visit for her spring break instead of going on a trip with her friends as she had originally informed me.

  “I need to meet this man who has you all atwitter,” she says quite commandingly, not even asking if she can come. Not like I don’t want her to, but it’s nice to be asked.

  “I’m not all atwitter.” I. Don’t. Get. Excited. “It’s all fresh and new. I don’t want to think it’s more than it is.”

  “It’s definitely more than you think it is. I haven’t even met the man, and I know that for fact.”

  “How?”

  “Seriously? He took you to a work event. He introduced you to his music group friends. He’s spent the night. You haven’t had anyone stay over since…well, you know since when...”

  I do know. Since the attack. I don’t talk to my sister about the attack. I want to shelter her from those details. But most everything else in my life is a free-for-all, open to her inspection whether I like it or not. You’d think she was the older sister the way she tries to rule my life. I may not have had a great relationship with my dad, but what I have with my sister is worthy every painful dad-memory.

  “…he told you he loves you, did he not?” she continues her sales pitch.

  “He did.”

  “And you said it back.”

  “I did,” I answer, though she wasn’t asking.

  “It’s more. Get all atwitter. Get all hot and bothered, for that matter. This is big—huge. And I’m coming to be sure he’s good enough for you.”

  She has no idea how hot and bothered I get or how out of my league he is. I acquiesced as if I had a choice in the matter. She’s coming. End of discussion. Literally.

  I just finish putting the last of the vegetables in the pot when Theo charges out of the guest room. “I have a few things I want to talk to you about,” he says in a rush, as if he’ll burst if he doesn’t get this conversation over with.

  “Okay.” I wipe off my hands and give him my full attention.

  “Firstly, I’d like to meet your mother.” He nervously shoves his hands in his jean pockets.

  “Okay.”

  “Soon. I’d like to meet her soon.”

  I plant my hand on his chest. The pounding of his heart thumps against my palm. “I’ll call her while I make lunch. Maybe she’s available this weekend. Is that soon enough?”

  He lets out a punch of air. “Yes, that would do fine.” His smile shows relief. “I’d like to meet your brother too.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. This weekend might be too soon—”

  “That’s fine. Your mother first, then your brothe
r.” His hands link behind my back, holding me close.

  “You’ll get to meet my sister, Nicole, when she comes to visit at the end of next month. She’ll be on spring break from college and wants to come see me—us.”

  “When? Exactly?” His urgency is back, perplexingly curious about her dates.

  I show him the note I jotted down with her travel information.

  His shoulders loosen as his smile widens. “That’s perfect.” He relaxes into our embrace only to pull back with an arched brow. “Oh, and you’ll also get to meet my oldest brother, Connor, a few weeks before your sister when he’s here for a medical conference next month.”

  “Wow, sounds like March is going to be a busy month.”

  “Speaking of spring break, I’d like to take you somewhere on my break, which is also next month.” He eyes the piece of paper still in my hand. “We’d leave after my brother’s visit and get back the week before your sister’s.”

  “You want to take me on a vacation?”

  His fingers delve into my hair at the back of my neck as he leans down until we’re face to face. “Yes. Would you be interested in that?”

  I move into his embrace, hugging him—hard. “I’d love that.”

  He chuckles in my hear. “I’m glad to hear it. Our destination is a surprise, so no digging for information. I’ll let you know what to pack as we get closer.”

  After a sound kiss and checking my work calendar for availability, I submit my vacation request, and Theo disappears into the guest room to make arrangements.

  I lean on the counter and sigh. That was quite a whirlwind conversation. I’m exhausted thinking of what all next month brings. But then a stupid grin takes over my face. He wants to take me on a trip.

  I’m all atwitter.

  My sister would be proud.

  Stealthily, I ease into the kitchen behind Lauren, millimetres from touching her.

  “Is that my favourite professor?”

  I sigh in disappointment. I swear she has some kind of Spidey sense. “Do you know other professors?” I press against her backside, clasping her waist.

  “No. Unless you count Marcus and all those other professors I met at your faculty get-together.” She chuckles, apparently amused with herself, continuing to mix up some sort of batter and completely ignoring the hardening of my lower region pushing against her.

  “I don’t count them.” I nuzzle into her hair, smelling her shampoo laced with— "You smell like lunch.”

  “I hope that’s a good thing.” She brushes her head against mine.

  Stepping back, I pat her bum. “It’s a very good thing.” I lean against the far counter, crossing my arms and legs. “What are you making now?”

  “Cornbread.” She glances over her shoulder before pouring the batter into a cast-iron skillet sitting on the cooktop. “Do you like cornbread?”

  “Love it.” I take the empty bowl and set it in the sink, filling it with soapy water.

  She hip-checks me. “I’ll do this if you’ll put the skillet in the oven and set the timer for twenty-five minutes.”

  I do as she asks. “Is that how long we have before lunch?” I could start a bit of trouble in that time.

  “Give or take.” She places the bowl and whisk on the drying rack, turns the water off and dries her hands, turning to face me. “Did you finish what you needed to get done?”

  “Yes. I booked our trip for spring break and answered a few work emails.” I step into her space, settling my hands on her hips.

  She tosses the towel on the counter, placing her hands on my chest. “I know you invited me, but I don’t expect you to pay my way. Let me know how much, and I can write you a check or send an electronic transfer—”

  “Nothing. I invited you with the intention of covering all expenses.” I press a finger to her lips when she starts to balk. “This is my gift to you as much as to myself. Let me do this.”

  “Okay.”

  I relish her acquiescence with minimal fight. She’s letting me in, trusting me more and more, and I’m eating it up like the love-starved man I am.

  “Thank you for not fighting me.” I kiss her—one soft press of my mouth to hers. “As a reward, I will offer this: we’re going to the beach, and we depart the Friday Connor leaves and return the following Saturday.” I run my lips across hers. “No more details until it’s time to pack.”

  “Thank—”

  I don’t let her finish that thought. By my calculations I’ve got twenty-two minutes and I plan to use every one to whet my appetite for chicken soup, cornbread, and Lauren, the latter being my favourite main dish.

  WITH BOTH OF OUR JOBS CLOSED, the next two days pass deliciously slow. We spend all of Thursday inside, only going to the gym to work out. The rest of the time, we spend cooking, eating, and enjoying each other’s company—and bodies.

  Today, we braved the roads and ventured out to the grocery store without incident. There’s significant ice and snow everywhere, though it’s supposed to warm up enough later to melt what’s on the roads at least. The dojo is still closed, so no self-defense class either.

  The city has basically shut down. The DFW Metroplex simply isn’t prepared for this type of weather, especially when it lasts more than a day and given that we rarely get this type of weather.

  Saturday, tomorrow, we’re meeting my mom for lunch. I’m nervous but looking forward to it, having no doubt they’ll hit it off.

  Now, we’re in the kitchen making turkey chili for dinner. Let me clarify: I’m making chili. Theo is distracting me—rubbing his hard body against mine, his hands looking for hidden treasure, and his lips seeking sustenance anywhere they can make purchase.

  “Professor, if you keep this up, we won’t be eating anytime soon.” I wiggle my behind, half-heartedly trying to dislodge him.

  “And if you keep rubbing that delectable arse against me—” He presses his impressive hardness into me. “I shan’t be responsible for my actions, Dove.”

  Chills course to my sensitized core. I can’t hide the effect his words have on me. “Five minutes. Give me five minutes, and then I’m all yours.”

  With a peck on the cheek, he peels himself off me and leaves the kitchen.

  I take a cleansing breath, shaking out my body, and focus on the task at hand. Finishing putting everything in the pot, I set the timer for a mid-cook stir and search for Theo.

  He’s not in the living room, so I check the guest room. Not there. I head to my room. Nope. Not there either.

  Where could he be? My place isn’t that big. Guest bathroom, maybe?

  I turn and nearly jump out of my skin with a yelp.

  “Looking for me?” His satisfied smirk only irritates me.

  I swat at him with one hand as the other clutches my chest. “You scared me half to death! Where were you?”

  “Right here.”

  “No. No, you weren’t.” I glare at him before turning on my heels.

  I hate being scared. I always have. Kids think it’s so funny to jump out at you around corners or closets. There’s nothing funny about it, especially when it’s at my expense. Not funny.

  I barely making it a step before his arms wrap around me. “Where are you going, Dove?” I struggle to get free, but his grip only tightens. “Your five minutes are up. You’re all mine now.”

  “No. I’m not.” Anger getting the best of me I consider trying a self-defense move to get free.

  But then his lips press to my neck, and I still.

  “Don’t be mad. I’m only having a bit of fun.” His voice is gruffer. “Stop fighting me and be mine.”

  His words hit me right in the heart and between my thighs. I lean into his embrace and lay my head on his chest. “I’ve been lost to you since the first time I saw you.”

  “Not lost, Lauren. Found.” He sweeps me into his arms and carries me to the fire where he’s made a bed of blankets and pillows. He sets me on my feet and kneels, pulling me to my knees in front of him. “I’m sorry I
scared you. That was not my intent.” He tenderly caresses my cheek, his thumb rubbing my lips as his eyes scan my face. “So beautiful.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Don’t finish that thought,” he growls. His brow and glare are fierce and determined. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” His lips brush my neck, moving up to my ear. “I’ll have to show you.”

  My heart catches, and I grip his sides. “Theo.” I close my eyes to shut out the storm raging inside.

  Hot and cold, that’s what I am. So afraid to give in, to believe he truly loves me for who I am. That I am enough. Trust doesn’t come easily, and vulnerability even less so, and yet, here I am at his mercy. He could end me with a word. Thrash my delicate spirit that wants to believe what he says is true. That he’s fated to be mine and me, his. That he sees me without blinders or filters. That he’s not fooled, or under some spell—for I am about to leap and pray he’ll catch me.

  “Shh, I’ve got you.” He kisses my cheeks, my mouth delving in and taking no prisoners. Pulling me closer, he palms my breasts, teasing my nipples to hard peaks, subduing my emotions, harnessing my fear, and stoking the flames of desire.

  I pull him down to the blanket, wrapping around him, my hands lost in his hair and digging into his taut muscles, kissing him back, feasting on his hunger, quenching my thirst for more. For him. For everything.

  I claw at his shirt. “I want to feel you.”

  Our breaths waft around us, swirling with heated desire as he reaches behind his neck and pulls his shirt off over his head in that purely masculine kind of way, his lips barely leaving me as they ravage my skin with groans of approval.

  I delight in the golden flesh before me, kissing his chest and nipples, teasing them with my lips, my tongue, and my teeth. My hands knead along his sides, his back, and down to the most succulent ass ever created.