He ground his back teeth together and thrust his hips forward as he ejaculated into her mouth. She continued to suck, until she’d gotten every drop.
“Yum,” she said when she finally looked up.
At some point, he’d put both of his palms on the side of her head.
The last tremor went through him, and he gently pulled her head back. She could not have done that better, even if she’d been the most perfectly trained submissive.
He helped her to stand, and he tugged her into his arms, holding her close. How the hell am I ever going to let her go?
* * * *
“Ah! Aria, there you are,” Julien said when she walked into the workshop.
In the ten days she’d been at Grant’s house, Julien had checked in at least once a day. And she should be used to it. But seeing his face, much, much larger than life, still took her aback.
“What’s going on?” She slid onto a stool, put down her mug of coffee and offered the other one to Grant.
“Thank you,” he said with a smile.
Already she recognized that look.
To anyone else, it might appear to be a casual or grateful gesture. But she’d seen the way he’d perused her. His gaze had taken in her whole body, and he’d drawn his eyebrows together to communicate approval and a promise that he was thinking about the evening ahead.
“Tell me that’s not a caffeinated beverage,” Julien said.
“Mine even has vanilla spice creamer in it,” she said, “with a few chocolate chips, too.” She prepared to enjoy his shudder. He didn’t disappoint. “Grant had something he had to put into the blender for breakfast. Spinach, I think.”
“Kale,” he corrected.
“They’re not the same thing,” Julien added.
“They’re green and taste better warmed up with butter and salt. But it should counteract the caffeine, right?”
“You’ll ruin your adrenal glands.”
“But I’ll get more work done in the meantime.”
She and Grant clinked their mugs together.
In the time she’d been at his house, they’d had fallen into an easy routine. Midday, one of them would take a break, brew a second pot of coffee and bring back the manna for the other.
If Julien hadn’t intruded, Grant would be showing his appreciation right then.
“I was telling Grant we’re ready to begin beta testing Blanca’s app,” Julien continued, as if the conversation hadn’t taken a side street.
“Already? That was fast,” Aria responded.
She’d given the project to David for assignment and it surprised her that Julien would take an interest in a project this size when movies beckoned.
“I pride Bonds on being like a speedboat. Fast. Responsive. Able to spin. Turn on its axis in a millisecond.”
“Does a speedboat technically have an axis?” she asked, amused.
“I have no idea,” he responded, frowning.
“Grant?”
“It’s irrelevant,” Julien interrupted. “You understand my point.”
“When a beautiful woman is involved, a man will move the heavens,” Grant agreed.
“That was poetic,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“I’m hoping Blanca will go on a date with me, to show her gratitude,” Julien continued.
She looked at Grant.
He shrugged.
Julien’s focus on Blanca’s project explained a lot about his disheveled appearance. He was seated behind the desk in his Cupertino headquarters, a glass of something that could be carrot juice in front of him.
He was unshaven, and his button-down shirt was a bit rumpled. If her guess was right, he hadn’t gone home yesterday. He’d probably napped on the bed behind a partition in his office.
Which wasn’t all that unusual. Despite admonishments to his staff to rest and take their vacation time, he often spent the night at work. The mattress, she had been told, boasted fourteen hundred thread count sheets.
“What’s the next step?” Grant asked.
“I can reach out to her,” she said. “Let her know where we’re at, give her an update, let her know what to expect.”
“You need to focus on your current project,” Julien replied. “And testing protocols will be initiated with the mainframe.”
“That’s Bonds speak,” Grant said.
“Bonds speak?”
“Basically…it means his reason is subterfuge.”
She grinned. “Bullshit?”
“Exactly. He wants an excuse to call Ms. Montoya. And it has to look as if it’s business. You’re one of his top people, you’re very, very busy, but the project matters so much to you that you sent it to the boss for personal attention.”
She could only guess how personal. “How long have you two been reading each other’s minds?”
“Since college,” Grant said.
Julien shrugged and took a drink of his juice without wrinkling his nose. No matter how unhealthy, she personally preferred her artificially sweetened, potentially adrenal-gland killing coffee. More and more, she was learning to appreciate each moment, the more delicious, the better.
“So how’s your project coming?”
She waited to see if Grant would reply.
Eventually, he did. “Slow. It’s evolving. We’re hoping to have it put together for you soon.”
“Most important thing is to relax,” Julien coached them. “You can’t force genius.”
“Helllllllo, Genius.”
At the sound of Molly’s voice, Julien grinned.
“You’ve given her some interesting verbal cues,” Grant said.
“She does like having her…components adjusted.”
Aria rolled her eyes. “I’m beginning to wonder if you two mentally left college.”
They looked at each other. Simultaneously, they shook their heads.
“Every time I ping you, I hope you’re not there,” Julien admitted, and he actually sounded a bit disappointed.
“We could pretend,” Aria said. “Maybe actually get something productive done.”
“Nah. Molly would tell me the truth. Isn’t that right?”
“Helllllllo, Genius.”
Julien’s grin was the last thing they saw before the wall went blank.
“He didn’t even say toodles,” she protested.
“The bastard,” Grant sympathized.
Since the afternoon was overcast, they’d again selected the sunny Caribbean as their work background picture. She decided she might want the projection ability in her California office and her apartment.
The idea of going back gnawed at her.
Grant was starting to mean something to her, and she was enjoying the introduction into BDSM.
But reality loomed and there was no denying it.
There were business trips she couldn’t skip. As much as she adored Grant, she wanted to see her parents, her friends.
They’d made progress, and it had been exciting to work together and to play together. But that was all it was.
Grant had made it abundantly clear he wasn’t leaving New Mexico, no matter what Julien demanded. He’d resisted all her attempts to get him to do practice presentations. When he’d moved to Los Alamos, he’d clearly cut off the old part of his life. Maybe he hadn’t come to heal. Maybe he’d run.
“In front of people, Julien’s a natural,” he’d told her.
“Julien’s not a natural,” she’d countered. “He gets out there, begins to talk, builds to a crescendo. He has an idea of what he wants to say, but he uses a scriptwriter.”
“No he doesn’t.”
“The hell he doesn’t. Every word he says in public is vetted. Mostly, though, he lets his passion shine through. He’s more awkward than anything, but no one cares… Well, except for the haters and the handful of critics who love to tear down Bonds so they get readers. You know, the ones who go to bed with a thesaurus so they can find new ways to insult our latest technological feat
. But the truth is, people want to be excited, so he gives them that. Our products aren’t gadgets. They’re a way to make lives better. He believes it, so he communicates that—the idea, the hope, passion.”
As she’d spoken, she’d paced across the workshop, and he’d sat there, seemingly captivated, but also unmoved. When she’d asked what he’d thought, he’d said he’d consider it then had changed the subject.
They’d spent the rest of that day with tension worming between them, until he’d taken her to bed, tied her up, and communicated in a way that made words unnecessary.
And now, his gaze was riveted on her as she took a drink of her sugar-laced, cavity-causing coffee.
“You didn’t really put chocolate chips in there, did you?”
“Really I did. Would you like a taste?” She offered the cup.
“Yeah. Put it down and come here.”
That was her favorite kind of taste, as well…
She went into his arms, and he kissed her deeply, gently at first. He didn’t need to coax her response, she offered it. From the moment their tongues touched, desire arced through her. At times he was soft and gentle, expressing reverence. At others, he was demanding and urgent, but always, he expressed his moods, his intentions through his touch.
He tugged her sweater up and off.
“Here?” she asked.
“Here.”
At the desire that made his eyes smoky, she trembled.
She toed off her shoes and shucked her jeans and undergarments as he fished a condom from his pocket and pulled off his clothes.
“What do you want, Aria?”
“Fuck me, Sir,” she replied.
He nodded.
Over the days, she’d become more comfortable with him and his demands, and in fact, liked them. He refused to allow sex to be perfunctory—something that happened in bed at night before two people rolled over and went to sleep.
With Grant, she’d learned, arousal constantly smoldered, just waiting for a spark to take it to flash point.
In moments, he had her against the glass window. She spread her arms and braced her hands on the steel beams.
The view took her breath, and so did the freezing cold sensation when he put a hand in the middle of her back and pressed her forward, flattening her breasts on the frigid pane of glass, making her nipples harden.
“Spread your legs.”
She did and he stroked her pussy, arousing her. He dipped a finger into her pussy, making her damp, and he drew some of that moisture backward to lubricate her ass. Gently, he inserted one finger in her anus, then he brought in his other hand, filling her pussy with four fingers.
Aria couldn’t see his reflection in the window, but she inhaled his scent, that of command and musk.
She was lost as he fucked her cunt, her ass.
Vertigo and passion tilted her world, making her scream.
He had her on the knife-edge of danger, and she felt his sheathed cock at the entrance to her pussy.
Somehow, he managed to keep a finger in her ass, stretching her as he drove his cock up into her, filling her. The double sensation overwhelmed. “I need…”
“Tell me,” he whispered, demanded, breath warm on her ear.
“To come. Please,” she said. He thrust in her hard, and her thoughts vanished. All that remained was raw need. “Please, Sir?”
“That’s it. Come for me, Aria.”
Convulsing on his hard cock, she came.
She continued to rise onto her tiptoes then bend her knees, inviting him, urging him. Each thrust brought him deeper, reignited her desire.
He changed positions, putting one hand in front of her to support her lower abdomen so he could keep her still.
She heard his breathing change, felt a telltale pulse in his cock.
For a moment, he went rigid.
“Yes,” she urged, hot for him again. “I want… Fill me, Grant.”
With a final, shuddered breath, she felt him come, filling her and pushing her into a second orgasm.
He collapsed against her and, for a moment, she supported the combination of their weight before he seemed to find his bearings.
Slowly, he moved the hand that he’d put in front of her, and he pushed it against the support beam then eased himself back.
His cock slid from her, and he withdrew his finger from her ass.
“I’m not sure how that position was even possible,” she told him.
“Me either.”
His hands were on her, helping her to stand.
“That was a hell of a way to get me over the fear of falling off the edge of your house,” she said as he turned her to face him.
“You did go over the edge, metaphorically.”
“Twice,” she said, outlining the hard planes of his jaw.
Together they left the workshop. She no longer felt like working. Besides, she knew their creative conversations would follow them wherever they went. It was part of who they were.
As she usually did, she headed for her shower. She was shocked when he followed her.
“It’s big enough for two,” he told her as he scooped her up and sat her on the countertop. “Molly, shower on. Temperature at a hundred and one.”
“That’s pretty steamy,” Aria said as the water flowed from the shower ceiling.
“It’ll be steamier when you’re in there with me.”
“We’re not done?” she asked, her breath constricting again.
“Aria, we’re just getting started.”
Chapter Nine
“Let’s mix it up,” he said.
Aria glanced up. Grant was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, one shoulder propped against the jamb. With his damp hair, freshly shaven face, sexy boots and tight jeans, he made it impossible to think. “What do you mean?”
“Roads are clear. We’ve been stuck here for a few days. We need some groceries, so I figured we could drive to Santa Fe, walk around the Plaza, have dinner then pick up supplies on the way back.”
“Now?”
“It’s less than an hour away. We can use the time in the car to talk.”
She wondered if he’d sensed the restlessness that was starting to crawl through her. “You’ve talked me into it,” she said. “Give me twenty minutes?” She’d need that long to dry her hair and get dressed.
Within thirty minutes, they’d passed the Montoyas’ restaurant. “Julien has a thing for Blanca,” she said. “Who’d have guessed?”
“Probably neither of them,” Grant replied. “Sure as hell not me.”
She settled back, adjusted the lumbar support then turned up the seat warmer by a degree before grabbing her cell phone to check email. “This highway is pretty narrow,” she said. “And gorgeous.”
As they drew closer to Santa Fe, she noticed more Kokopellis. “He really does represent fertility?”
He glanced at her. “Look it up.”
With a shrug, she picked up her phone and asked for the meaning of Kokopelli.
Grant grinned as the response confirmed what he’d told her all along. “Anything else you doubt me about?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said. “You were right.”
“Three of my favorite words.”
“Humility is a virtue.”
“Like you wouldn’t brag if you were right?”
“That’s different,” she insisted.
It took a few trips down narrow streets before they found a parking spot.
“Saint Francis Cathedral,” he said, pointing out a stunning, historic church.
It looked very different from the surrounding adobe buildings, making it stand out more in contrast.
The rest of the Plaza fascinated her. In front of the Palace of the Governors, a number of Native American vendors from various pueblos had braved the cold to display their pottery and stunning pieces of jewelry.
She bent to look at a sterling silver bracelet that had an unusual, green-colored stone set into it.
“It’s
hand hammered,” the vendor said.
Aria admired the filigree. It was both delicate and sturdy.
“Candelaria turquoise,” the vendor continued.
“That’s turquoise?” she repeated, looking at the woman.
“From a mine in Nevada. It’s beautiful, as well as unique.”
“It is,” she agreed. Even the small veins of brown added to its beauty.
“Try it on.” The woman, her hair secured in a long, gorgeous braid, picked up the piece and offered it to her.
Putting it on would be the first step to falling in love, she knew.
Grant was no help. He nodded encouragement.
“Did you make it yourself?” Aria asked.
“For you,” she said, jokingly.
Aria offered her wrist and the Native American woman slipped it on.
Even in the weak winter sunlight, the silver seemed to sparkle, and Aria had never seen a stone that color before.
“This shade of green reminds me of your eyes,” Grant said. “And it even sounds like your name. Calendaria.” To the woman, he added, “We’ll take it.”
“But… Wait,” Aria protested. “I don’t even know how much it is.”
The woman named a price that was fair, but Aria’s instinct was to haggle, just a little.
“Done,” he said, extracting his wallet from his back pocket.
“Grant,” she warned. “Don’t.” Her heart began to thunder. Except for an engagement ring, a man had never bought her a piece of jewelry. “I can buy my own things.”
“Of course you can. I just happen to want to do it for you.” He handed the woman two crisp bills.
“I…” Aria looked at him, then the bracelet and finally back to the vendor who was smiling delightedly. She sighed. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“How about thank you?” he suggested, putting his wallet away. To the vendor, he said, “She’ll wear it home.” He shook hands with the vendor, accepted her business card and a velvet pouch to store the gorgeous silver piece.
With his hand under her elbow, he guided her away from people, toward the gazebo across the street in the town center. “It’s beautiful.”
“You still shouldn’t have bought it for me.” She lifted her wrist to admire it, though.
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