Love the One You're With (18 page)

“So?” he asked, feeding her a bite of hazelnut macaroon.

Grace closed her eyes as the decadent sugary goodness rolled over her tongue. “I lied before. I don't need sex. Just hand over the macaroons and the chocolates and slip out the back door.”

Jake snatched the last bite of macaroon out of her hand and held the bag of remaining treats well out of reach. “Okay, then. I think we've had just about enough of that.”

Grace laughed, and made a grab for the last nibble of her cookie, but it disappeared into Jake's mouth.

“Usually decadent desserts get them
into
my bed,” he grumbled. “They doesn't
replace
me in their bed.”

“Oh, so you've done this before, huh?” she asked, linking her arm through his and weaving to the left to avoid a heel-snagging grate in the middle of the sidewalk. “This is a common ploy of yours? The French-chocolate-and-French-kiss routine?”

Jake slid one arm around her waist and pulled her to a halt against him as his other hand went up to hail a cab. “This is a first for me, actually.”

He didn't look at her when he said it, and that made his unexpected comment all the more sweet.

There was no cocky wink or smug smile. Just a quiet confession.

A first …

She liked the thought of being a first for Jake.

Oh no you don't
, Grace 2.0 railed in her brain.
This is exactly why I okayed this hanky-panky tonight. Because Jake is not the type of guy who gets involved
.

Yeah, yeah. She knew that. Just for fun, no commitment, blah blah blah.

But when the cab pulled to a stop and he asked the inevitable “My place or yours?” her stomach flipped in more than just sexual awareness.

Grace thought 2.0 might be right … she was definitely in over her head.

“Want a glass of wine?”

“No thanks.”

“Whisky?”

“No,” Grace said. “Do you?”

“I'm good. More chocolate? Another macaroon?”

Grace held up a hand. “Jake. I know I'm new at this, but isn't the benefit of you going back to the woman's place that you don't have to play host?”

He ran a hand through his hair looking sheepish. “I just don't want you to be nervous. And I want to give you time to think about it so you won't regret it later.”

She slowly moved toward him, settling her hands on his waist. Seriously, did the man not have any fat? Where was his pooch? The love handles? The early signs of a beer belly?

“I'm not nervous,” she said, looking up into his eyes. “And I'm not going to regret this.”

Well, I might. But it'll be worth it
.

She went up on her toes, pressing her mouth to his before saying softly, “I want you.”

He sucked in a breath, his hands roughly framing her face.

“Grace.” His voice was raspy.

“Jake.”

“Don't say I didn't warn you.”

“About what?”

His arms banded around her back, lifting her off her feet as his mouth fused with hers and he walked backward into the bedroom. Kicking the door closed behind him until it was just them in darkness other than the city lights outside Grace's window.

She took a deep breath, about to ask if they could go slow, but then his hands were in her hair, his mouth on hers, and
slow
was the last thing she wanted. Jake's teeth nipped at her lower lip and Grace gasped.

Oh
. So this is what he'd wanted to warn her about.

Grace had expected someone with Jake's experience to have her out of her panties in
about five seconds flat, but the man took his time. She lost track of the number of times he switched the angles of their kiss, exploring every corner of her mouth, every sensitive spot of her lips, until she was grasping frantically at his shirt.

“More.”

“You sure?” he asked, his breath hot against her mouth.

“Quit asking me stupid questions.”

She felt him smile against her mouth before his lips moved across her cheek, his tongue playfully flicking the spot just below her ear until he was dragging warm lips and tongue down her throat. He found a spot just below the string of her halter top where her neck met her shoulder, and as he sucked, Grace moaned.

Jake pulled back slightly, his eyes holding hers, and he lifted a hand to undo the tie around her neck. His fingers were gentle as he undid the knot, and belatedly Grace realized that there was no sexy way to remove a clingy halter top.

Really, Julie? This was your best advice?

But then Jake's hands slid under the top, skimming up and down her spine, and Grace forgot all about her friend. Since easing the thing over her head would be slightly less awkward than shimmying it down her body, she lifted her arms.

He removed it with ease, his eyes hungrily taking in a nearly topless Grace before he ran a finger along the top of her green strapless bra.

“This matches your eyes,” he said softly.

Her eyes fluttered shut as the tips of his fingers trailed over her softly. His fingers undid the back clasp without even the slightest fumble, and he tossed the bra aside before sitting on the bed and pulling her toward him until she was standing between his legs. Grace kept waiting for the surge of embarrassment at the realization that he was entirely clothed and she was half naked.

But instead she felt want, low and urgent.

His hands came up to cup her breasts, his touch gentle and sure, and they locked eyes as his thumbs found her nipples, rubbing her in idle motions, until she jerked toward him. “Jake.”

He wrapped his warm mouth around her nipple, his mouth working her as his fingers quickly removed her belt and unbuttoned her jeans.

Grace's eyes flew wide when he pulled her jeans and panties down just enough for his fingers to find her wetness, one finger sliding into her as his thumb made wicked patterns against
her clit. She was on the edge in a matter of seconds. Embarrassed, she tried to push him away, but he merely sucked harder and rubbed a little faster.

When he eased a second finger into her, his hand moving in a steady rhythm as his thumb circled harder, Grace exploded.

This was no
well-isn't-this-nice?
orgasm that she was used to. It was her personal apocalypse. Her hands clutched frantically at his hair as her hips writhed on his hand. Too-wide hips that she hadn't once tried to hide from Jake the way she might have with Greg.

She pushed the thought aside. Ex-boyfriends did not belong in her bedroom. Not here, not ever.

Jake gently laid her back on the bed, giving her head a chance to stop spinning as he eased off her jeans and thong before lying alongside her, running a hand up her side as his lips nuzzled her neck.

“One of us is more exposed than the other,” she said, shocked to feel herself responding all over again as his hand cupped the underside of her breast.

“Imagine what we must look like,” he said, his teeth grazing her shoulder. “Tell me it doesn't turn you on. You all naked and wanton and wild, and me all calm and reserved and, well … dressed.”

“Think we should change that?” she asked playfully, her fingers finding the button of his shirt.

“Next time,” he said against her breast. “This time I want you like this. Naked, out of control, and
mine
.”

Grace gasped as he flipped her over onto her belly. He moved closer still, and Grace realized that he'd been right. The roughness of his clothes against her bare skin was almost painfully erotic. He planted damp kisses along her spine, his hands moving briefly over her butt before gripping her hips and pulling her up onto all fours as he moved behind her. She whimpered when he pressed his cock against her, feeling his hardness even through his jeans.

“You want this, Grace?”

“Yes,” she said, her fingers gripping the comforter in anticipation.

“You want me?”

“Yes.”

His hand briefly toyed with her nipple before sliding down her belly and touching her
still sensitive center. He swore when he found her wetness and his hand disappeared briefly before she heard the sound of a zipper, followed by the crinkling of a condom wrapper.

His hand came between her thighs, pushing them apart roughly before he moved behind her, positioning himself at her opening.

They both groaned when he entered her, just an inch at first, then another, before he pulled almost all the way out. Then he started all over again, giving it to her inch by inch in a teasing, rocking motion.

“You're so damned perfect,” he said, his hands finding her hips. With one final thrust, he was all the way inside her.

They found their rhythm immediately, and now that Jake had put the thought in her head, Grace couldn't stop thinking about the picture they made, her naked on the bed, with a fully clothed man taking her from behind.

She'd never cared much for this position in the past—it had always felt a bit demeaning. But with Jake's hands all over her body, his words all over her mind, it felt delightfully dirty.

Jake's thrusts were getting more frantic now, and his hand fondled her ass cheek briefly before sliding around again to her wet center, finding the spot just above where he filled her.

Two fingers circled her then and she bucked and moaned. “Again, Grace.”

“I can't …”

She'd never been a two-orgasm-a-night kind of girl. She knew Riley's articles said it was possible, but it never had been for her.

But then she'd never been good and totally taken by Jake Malone, because his fingers knew exactly how to play her, rubbing in smaller and smaller circles, centering on just the right spot, until she was once again on the edge of sanity.

She cried out loudly, her fingers scratching at the covers as though in a useless attempt to keep from losing her mind. The second she clenched around him, Jake swore roughly, pounding into her furiously before he let out a guttural cry as his hips hammered against hers.

When her head stopped spinning, Grace could do little more than slide down until she was lying on her stomach, Jake following her down, his warm weight pressed against her. He pressed a lazy kiss to her shoulder blade before pulling out and retreating to the bathroom, presumably to discard the condom.

She told herself to move. Told herself that lying diagonally across the bed, completely
limp and naked and sweaty, was not exactly sex-kitten behavior. But her limbs refused to cooperate.

A sharp smack on her butt, however, had her bolting upright onto her knees as she rubbed the smarting cheek.

“Couldn't help it,” Jake said, looking devilishly rumpled. “It was a fantastic view.”

“Well, it should have stayed a
view
. Look and don't touch, and all that.”

He hooked a hand behind her neck, his thumb rubbing over her cheek as he stared into her eyes. “I like touching.”

Grace blushed, and he chuckled. “A little late to be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart
.

“I know,” she said. “I just … it was so …”

“Dirty? Hot? Perfect?”

“Was it?” she asked, grabbing a pillow to cover up her front since the damned man was still clothed and she was still naked. Post-orgasm body confidence only went so far.

“Was it what?” he asked, kissing her.

“Perfect?”

Oh God,
surely
that needy, fragile voice wasn't hers.

Grace 2.0's eye roll assured her that yes, she
had
sounded that desperate while talking to a veritable modern sex god.

His eyes changed then, going from sexy and playful to a little bit soft. “Yeah. It really was.”

She locked her arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. “A nice line. You should add that one to your permanent repertoire if it's not already in it.”

He didn't reply as she took control of the kiss, accidentally-on-purpose rubbing her bare breasts against his shirt. His hands ran up and down her back before going down to cup her butt and lift her against him.

“Hey, Malone,” she said, pulling back and smiling when he groaned in protest at the lack of contact. “You want a cheese plate?”

He did something tricky then, his hands finding the back of her thighs and flipping her onto her back before she realized he'd moved.

“If you really knew men, Ms. Brighton, you wouldn't have to ask,” he said, his fingers
quickly unbuttoning his shirt.

“Ah,” she said, her fingers going to his belt to speed up the process. “As one of
Stiletto
's foremost
luuvvvv
experts, I guess I should have known that men declining sex is a foreign concept.”

“Not necessarily,” he said, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and revealing the ridiculously ripped body she'd known was under there. “But saying no to sex with you is.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Grace 2.0 threw up her hands in exasperation as Grace 1.0 melted.

The man really did know his way around women.

“The flowers were a nice touch. White roses. Very classy.”

“They're her favorite,” Jake said, not looking up from his laptop as he typed the last sentence of his article about the resurgence of Scotch in the cocktail culture.

Cole Sharpe entered the office uninvited. “How do you know what kind of flowers Grace Brighton likes?”

“She told me.”

“Huh.”

Jake looked up at that. He knew what
huh
meant in guy-speak. He'd practically invented it. He used it most frequently after learning that one of his friends had gotten engaged, was “in love,” or had gotten himself wrapped around some woman's finger.

Jake snagged his coffee mug off the desk and took a sip while Cole made himself at home. “Go ahead. Get it off your chest.”

“Get what off my chest?”

“Whatever it is you want to imply about me and Grace.”