My eyes focused on his in the dim light that peeked through the blinds of the front bay window. Slowly, he slid his hand away from my lips and down my neck. A sexy smile pulled at his lips.
In one quick move, he flipped me on my back and his hand reached up to brush his warm fingertips along my lips. My breath caught and my lips parted, waiting. Wanting. All my thoughts about asking him questions flew out the window.
"Grace Taylor, I am going to kiss you right now and you are not going to run away from me, because you have no excuse now. Then you are going to go back upstairs to bed and all you are going to think about are my fucking lips on yours and nothing else. Not strange men that want to hurt you, or buy you drinks, not Ryan, not Tucker, not even Ethan. I swear to yo u, Grace, I will not let you think of anything or anyone else until I put my lips back there again."
I pressed my hands against his chest and my fingertips tingled with heat from his skin through his tee shirt. A raw heat swept across my cheeks.
Shane's mouth hovered over mine. His breath husky and ragged. His body pressed against mine and the button of his jeans felt ice cold against my belly where my tank top had ridden up to just below my breasts.
And then his kissed me.
His lips crashed against mine and I was done. Lost. Gone. His.
I pulled my knee up and wrapped my leg around his and he groaned deep in his throat.
The sound of him moaning, the sound of his breathing, and the heat of his hands sent me reeling. I wanted more, more than just his touch; it wasn't enough. I clawed at the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. Our lips broke contact for a second and he growled and slammed his lips against me when the shirt went sailing freely across the room.
His fingers moved in slow circles over me. The searing heat of his touch sent fire through my veins like a pure, unadulterated drug. His lips glided smoothly against mine, the small flickers of his tongue sent me rocking against him. He kissed a hot trace of electricity across my jaw and down my neck. I whimpered when he lifted my shirt and took one of my nipples in his mouth. My body trembled from his lips and he held me tighter.
The couch beneath us could have completely disintegrated and I wouldn't have noticed a damn thing but those lips. I ran my hand along his smooth skin and slipped it between the hard muscles of his stomach and the rough material of his jeans. Holy Mother of ALL THINGS GIGANTIC!
"God, Grace," his voice shook. He grabbed at my hand and tugged it reluctantly out of his pants. We looked at each other panting, breathless.
"Go back upstair s, Gra y, and go to sleep."
I bit my bottom lip, "I sure as damn hell don't want to, Shane."
"Grace," he whispered as he slid his finger over my swollen lips. "I want to be inside you so damn bad right now. But when I do that, I want to hear you scream my fucking name as you claw your nails down my back. You can't do that here."
"I'm never getting to sleep now," I giggled.
"Baby, I'm going to be taking a cold shower for weeks after this."
"That doesn't really work too well," I said as I stood up and fixed my shirt.
"Remember tonight...for it is the beginning of always," he whispered.
"Dante Alighieri, Shane?"
"Shut up and go to sleep, Grace."
I dragged my humming, tingling body all the way back upstairs, smiling all the way. That damn man just ruined all other men for me. Once you tasted that man, he made all others go sour in your mouth. Ah crap, I was in love with him.
Chapter 20
Lea and I woke up to someone in the house blasting Beethoven's Symphony No. 5, and I mean blasting it. The walls shook and vibrated along to the music.
I was way beyond exhausted. Sleep had eluded me the entire night. Every time I laid my head against the pillow and closed my eyes, I could feel Shane's lips on me. The Dante quote echoed in my mind looping over and over, mixed with what Lea said about Gabriel being the devil himself. My knees tingled as I dressed and the grin on my face, whenever I remembered Shane's hands on me, was starting to hurt my cheeks.
Lea and I were afraid to walk down the stairs to see what her parents had in store, but the smell of coffee and French toast persuaded us to go.
When I stepped off the last stair, my eyes immediately went to the couch. The butterflies in my belly roared to life and flipped cartwheels. That right there was a sacred couch and it should be dipped in platinum and studded with diamonds. I wondered if they'd let me take it home.
Lea vaulted down the stairs behind me, ran over to the home audio system and slapped it off. Around the dining room table sat Anthony with his head hidden behind The Wall Street Journal, and Conner and Shane wide eyed, eating from plates piled with French toast, and all sorts of artery clogging yummy breakfast goodness.
Shane's eyes flashed on me as soon as I stepped through the door and he held my gaze as I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down across from him. A dangerous smiled played on his lips.
I started to fidget with my coffee cup, when Caroline came in and gave me a harsh glare. "You're not eating breakfast, Gracie? Oh, dear. Really, sweetheart, I've seen more meat on a chicken than you." Then she slammed down a plate with six pieces of French toast slathered in butter and syrup, five links of turkey sausage and a freaking cheesy looking omelet right in front of me.
Shane laughed and I narrowed my eyes at him.
Caroline sat next to me and gave me THE LOOK, the one she used to give me as a teenager and thought I was doing something wrong, which was, at least five times a day. "Start eating, dear."
Gah! It's a good thing I love this woman. I ate as much as I possibly could. And, I had a big stupid smile on my face as I did it, because I was planning on having an entire night with Shane to work it off.
After breakfast, Caroline and Anthony forced us all to try their new hot tub with them and their eighty-year-old neighbors. This is not something that I am going to discuss though, because it was honestly wrong and awkward on so many levels that I practically closed my eyes through the entire incident. Let's just say it got worse when other couples were invited and some of them started to become...frisky. Lea and I bolted out of the room as soon as a few tops started coming off and one sixty-year-old man held his boxers in the air triumphantly asking how many licks it takes to get to the center of his tootsie pop. I shit you not. Shane and Conner were hot on our heels behind us.
We ran through the house laughing and screaming, desperate to be on our way home. Conner and Lea started frantically putting their bags together when Shane stopped me in front of Lea's bedroom door, "Got plans for the rest of the day?"
I looked back at him and my heart just stopped. Then it just started again thudding erratically. What the hell does that mean? I feel like I'm having a heart attack.
"No plans," I whispered. Test drive your mattress? Let me pretend to be a Skittle and you can taste my rainbow? Fifty Shades me? Please! Oh, holy horror, I'm freaking losing it.
And I can just about swear to you that he might be able to read my crazy horn-dog mind at that very moment, because he smirks at me like he won a prize at the all you can eat strip club. "Good. I want to spend the rest of the day with you. Want to go for dinner?"
Yummy, Shane. "I'd love to," I say, well actually, I squeaked it, like a mouse. "I, um, was going to ride the bike back and leave the Jeep here. Do you feel up to riding or do you want to take the train back to the city with Lea and Conner?"
He reached his hand up to my face, brushed a loose strand of hair from off my cheek, and tucked it gently behind my ear. I'm a puddle of goo on the floor. "There's no way I'm missing out on a ride between your legs all the way back to Manhattan."
Now, normally, I would run away or say something horribly mean to him, but not now. No way. My angel is gone and this is the last chance I get to live. I am 100% human and those damn butterflies are flapping their wings all over my girly parts. "Um, yeah. I'm ready to go right now."
The ride back was intoxicating. The w
hole way I feel like my heart is floating free in my chest and hammering itself into my stomach. I have my arms wrapped around his strong waist and every time he stops for a red light, he runs his hands up and down my legs. If this is what living your life to the fullest is, I want to live forever. I don't even care how much it's going to hurt when he's not like this tomorrow, I'm just living each and every single perfect Shane moment.
He takes me along the East River to Long Island City's Water's Edge Restaurant. From their huge open bay windows, the view is breathtaking. The Manhattan skyline twinkled back at us like it was made of diamonds and light.
We were seated at a quiet table lit with tiny tea light candles that floated in a crystal bowl of water. He ordered a bottle of wine and we were completely silent. All I could hear between us was my own heart beating. All I can see were those soulful eyes looking right into mine. His phone started ringing, but he pressed ignore and shut the ringer off.
"I'm glad you cancelled on Ryan," he whispered. His eyes pulled together in a painful expression.
"Yeah, why is that?" I teased.
"I told you before, Grace. I want to kill any man that looks at you."
I swallowed hard, "You remember saying that to me?"
"I remember everything, Grace."
Right there, that moment, I truly think I'm having a heart attack. I just turned twenty-three, it that a possibility? Does he remember my angel being in his body? Do I ask him? Does he know what's going on with Gabriel? My mind is racing and careening out of control. Holy crap. I gulp down my entire glass of wine. His phone vibrated spastically on the table; he threw his napkin over it.
"Everything?"
"Yeah, Grace. Especially the part when I asked you to try to find whatever it was you were looking for in me." His words hung heavy and thick around me. They blanketed me with a warmth and urgency. All my questions just floated away from my mind.
"Shane," I breathed. "You are all I can see right now."
I don't remember the rest of the dinner; just the heated tension and the long pulling ache between my thighs. The ride back to my apartment seemed to stoke the fire up higher inside me, and when he pulled the bike to park in front of my apartment, I was engulfed in flames. Before he could get off the bike, I unstrapped my helmet, threw it on the ground and literally slid my entire body around his to face him. He could barely get his helmet off fast enough. His lips devoured mine and the city around us, the rest of the world, just fell away. Cupping my bottom, he stood up, my legs still wrapped around his waist, I whimpered into his mouth. My entire body ached for him. I clutched my thighs tighter around him and grabbed fistfuls of his silky hair. He climbed off the bike carrying me, kissing me, clutching me tight against his very strong, very hard body, while his phone continued to vibrate in his front pocket. Added bonus for me.
Shane pulled his head away and stared into my eyes, lips parted, panting. Being the object of the desire in those eyes was the most powerful feeling I had ever had. He licked his perfect lips and growled deep, "Keys. Now."
Giggling, I stuffed a hand quickly in my pocket and pulled out my keys and wiggled them in front of him. "Take me in, Shane. Please."
Holding me up with just one hand, he grabbed the keys with his other and slammed his lips back to mine. He walked up the front steps holding me and jammed my back against the front door. His lips never parted from mine. His missed the keyhole a few times, until he finally opened it and we fell through the doorway. He kicked the door closed behind us, leaned me up against the wall and slid the zipper of my jacket down.
I yanked his jacket off his shoulders and threw in on the floor. My hands clutched his shirt and I pulled him against me continuing our kiss.
"Um. Hey guys!"
We froze. Ohnononono!
"Wow. I do hate to stop this beautiful thing that's about to happen, but Conner and Ethan have been trying to call you, Shane, for like an hour already."
Shane tore his eyes from mine to level a glare at Lea, "Get to the point, Lea. Is someone either dead or in jail?" he said out of breath.
Lea took a deep breath and blew it out loudly, "No, worse. Vixen4 just showed up at your apartment and they need a place to crash. And crash your place is exactly what they seem to be doing right now."
Shane's grasp on me tightened. "Damn, I forgot Ethan told them they could stay with us." He looked at me tensed and clenching his jaw. "They're a handful." Sliding his hands down my arms, he reluctantly let me go and raked his hands through his hair. "Grace, I..."
Biting my lip gently I leaned forward, "Will you try your best to come back tonight?"
He cupped his hands around the back of my neck and pulled me in. He caught my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged gently, "God, baby. You are delicious. I'll try my best. If not, nine o'clock practice tomorrow, Vixen4 will be doing studio time after us." He pulled away from me and grabbed his coat from the floor. "I'm going to need to throw a bucket of ice down my pants," he murmured as he slipped out the front door.
Frustrated beyond any relief, I watched him walk away down the block from the window. Lea was next to me laughing, "Is it totally gross that I didn't want to stop you guys because I actually wanted to watch him in action?"
"Ew, Lea."
"Damn. Should have kept that to myself," she quipped. "So where the heck have you guys been?"
"He took me to dinner. Why did Shane just leave?"
Lea walked into the kitchen and poured me a glass of wine, I followed with trembling thighs. "Last time Vixen4 were in New York for a show, they got kicked out of the hotel they were staying in, one of the venues they played banned them and all four were arrested. I don't know the whole story, but Conner says they've all been friends since high school and the guys promised to keep an eye on them if they ever played here again."
I sipped my wine and squeezed my thighs tight. How the hell am I going to get through this night when I can still physically feel Shane's hands on me? Please God, let him come back.
He never made it back.
I called him around ten o'clock that night but his phone rang twice then went to voicemail. I didn't leave a message, because I knew how phones worked, he saw that I was calling and clicked ignore. The thought pissed me off, and it made my stomach feel funny, so I just pulled my covers over my head and fell asleep.
I woke up at eight o'clock the next morning tangled in my bed sheets and gasping for air. A terrible feeling churned in the pit of my stomach as nightmares (or maybe they were real) of Gabriel's whispering dark words seeped into my heart. An oppressive gloominess hovered over me and I could do nothing to shake the dread that engulfed me. I showered, dressed, slung my guitar over my shoulder and walked out the door without looking at myself in the mirror. The feeling in the pit of my stomach got worse as I got closer to the studio and not being able to handle the new strange feeling, I decided to stop and get coffee for everyone so I could have a minute to clear my head. Maybe I was just nervous about facing him after what almost happened last night and the night before. And, uh, what I was hoping was going to happen tonight.
No, it couldn't be that. He wanted it just as much as I did, there was no awkwardness about it, it felt like it had to happen or my body would just not work correctly ever again.
Still, my legs trembled as I held onto the brown paper bag of coffee and made my way to Shane's building. The city streets were crowded with people making their way to work, not one person meeting my eyes, just walking around an invisible mass on the sidewalk along with them. Everything felt surreal, a bit too bright and oddly out of sorts.
I opened the lobby door with my index finger, balancing the coffees and my guitar at the same time. I walked silently through the empty lobby, down the steps to the basement and through the silent hallways to the studio. It was dark inside like no one had been there yet. I switched on the light and the room brightened. The clock on the wall read 8:59.
Everybody must still be asleep upstairs. For some reason that thought se
nt the butterflies in my stomach to roll and thrash against my insides, and not in a good way. They sensed something was wrong.
I took all the coffees out of the bag and placed them on the small table up against the back wall. Pulling the strap of my guitar case over my head and opening it, I took my guitar out and leaned it up against the couch. The clock on the wall read 9:03. These boys were never late.
I walked back through the hallway and up the stairs to the first floor and knocked on the door to Shane's apartment. A very tired looking Ethan opened the door. "Mmmhhhh," he moaned and scratched the top of his head, then cringed like it hurt him to do so.
I was stunned when I looked past him and my stomach completely dropped, I swear, if I looked down I was afraid I'd see my guts splattered all over my feet. Usually the apartment that Shane shared with Ethan and Conner was pristine. You would think that they would live in a shithole because they're three single guys, but no. There were never any couches with the stuffing vomiting to the floor, no half naked schoolgirl posters, empty beer cans or pizza boxes. That was Tucker, Brayden and Alex's apartment; complete with an enormous bowl of condoms on the coffee table, all in different colors.
Shane's apartment looked just like Tucker's on its worst day. Bottles of alcohol were strewn all over, some empty and some that had spilled dark liquid onto the beautiful beige carpet. A lacy neon pink bra rotated slowly on a broken blade of the ceiling fan over the dining room table. A dining room table that now stood lopsided on three legs with a few sleeping bodies that lay underneath. They could very well have been dead bodie s; I had no clue yet.
My heart is pumping overtime when I hear Shane's deep raspy voice and I see him walking down the hallway pulling a shirt over his bare chest with a gorgeous dark haired girl walking behind him. She was, um, not wearing much at all, just a pair of red lace panties. Just panties, NO TOP! A wave of heat flushed through my entire body and my pulse sped up even faster. I just stood there, at the front door, paralyzed like a damn fool. I wanted to scream at him, to shout, and throw myself on the floor. How could he? I wanted to just disappear, just sink into the alcohol stained carpet and never see his flawless face again.
Saving Grace Page 12