The Unidentified Redhead

Page 27

He quickly turned around, stripped his own clothes off down to his naughty bits and dove under the blanket draped on his massage table. He pressed his face down into the pillow, and I could hear him groaning. I laughed, finished getting undressed and slipped under the blanket on my table. We giggled for a few minutes, waiting for the massage therapists to come in, holding hands across the space between us.
For the next ninety minutes we relaxed, enjoying this treatment fully. Once we’d finished up, we dressed and made our way back to the cottage. I didn’t know what our plans were for the night. I had given up all control and was happy to let Jack lead.
I felt nervous as we approached the cottage. Would we have the sex now?
Don’t you want to have the sex?
Yes, yes, of course. But would I have time to change into my sweetly slutty new lingerie?
Jack made up my mind for me when we got inside. “So, I’m going to leave you for a bit to get cleaned up, and then I’ll be back. I made reservations for us for dinner tonight. How does that sound?”
“Here at the hotel, I hope,” I murmured, pulling him to me for a hug.
“Yes, here at the hotel. I figured it was safer that way, in case you get a little randy at dinner. We have a place close by,” he teased, his breath warm in my hair as he held me tight. I would miss this, the hugging, the banter, the back and forth that was Jack and Grace.
I pulled back a little to look him in the eyes. “Thank you,” I said.
“For what?” he asked, looking puzzled.
“For this weekend. It’s perfect,” I answered, kissing him softly on the mouth.
He kissed me back, slowly, lazily, fueling the fire that was always burning between us.
“You get a shower. I’ll be back for you in a little bit,” he whispered, backing away from me. I sighed as I watched him leave, and then I began to prepare. I would be having hot hotel sex with Jack Hamilton before this night was through.
Thank God …
Within the time it took me to get ready and Jack to come back from whatever it was he was doing, I had managed to work myself into quite a frenzy. I was excited, nervous, frantic, frazzled, twitterpated …
Anything else?
Horny, crazy horny.
Damn straight.
I was wearing my favorite little black dress, cut low enough in the bodice to show my cleavage, enhanced by sparkle. Jack now refused to let me wear something low cut without a dusting of shimmer. I had twisted my hair up high on my head, letting a few pieces fall here and there in a carefully constructed
‘do that said, “It’s supposed to look like I just threw it up here, but it really took me an hour.”
As I carefully dabbed perfume in all the right places, it struck me that I hadn’t been this nervous when I lost my virginity. Tommy Jenson, eleventh grade. His parents’ basement on a blanket that smelled like camp. Young MC
on the radio. It was quick and painful.
Ugh.
I was a Hamilton virgin, and I couldn’t wait to be deflowered.
Jack came to the bathroom door and knocked. He’d graciously given me this bathroom, using the other bathroom in the suite to get ready.
“Grace, you decent?”
“Pfft, like that has ever stopped you before,” I teased, smoothing my dress one last time as I appraised myself in the mirror.
Hair? Nice. Makeup? Flawless. Skin? Glowing. Knockers? Up. Confidence?
High.
I repeat, confidence is high.
I opened the door and saw him. Once again, he did not disappoint in a gray button down, black leather jacket, black pants and my favorite Doc Martens.
And he was biting down on his lower lip … in an attempt to drive me crazy?
Hell, yes. I sighed and he sighed back at me, our eyes traveling over each other.
“Grace, did I tell you how sexy you are today?”
“Nope, tell me.”
“You are so sexy. It’s all I can do not to ravage you right here. Because I want you, Nuts Girl. I want you in the most desperate way,” he whispered in my ear as he pulled me to him.
“It does feel that way doesn’t it?” I shivered as he kissed my neck.
“Let’s go eat the fastest dinner possible.”
“We will set a new record, George. Mark my words,” I stated firmly, pulling him toward the door.
Once we were out of the cottage, I started toward the restaurant we’d had lunch in earlier that day, but Jack pulled me toward the waterfront.
“I arranged something a little more private for us. I hope you don’t mind.” He grinned as he wrapped his hands around mine.
We walked across the gardens, the night perfumed thickly with jasmine and rose. We came upon a little pergola that had been set with one table, two chairs and a dozen candles that shone through the darkness. I could hear soft music playing, and I was delighted to see that while there was one waiter, there was no one else around. It was like our own little hideaway …
Who said romance was dead? I smiled at him, letting him lead me the rest of the way, and it was then I realized that I would follow this man anywhere.
Once seated, he opened a bottle of champagne and poured for both of us. He raised his glass and said, with a sexy grin, “Let the seduction of Miss Grace begin.”
I laughed and responded, “Love, you could seduce me with a Dr. Pepper right about now. There will be no playing hard to get tonight.” He laughed, smiling at me in that way only he could. “I love how funny you are, Gracie.”
“I love how gorgeous you are to look at, George,” I responded, sipping at my champagne and crossing my eyes at him.
“I love how you call me George,” he quipped, looking at me as if I was the most beautiful creature on the planet.
“I love that you let me … ” I trailed off, suddenly emotional as I looked at him.
“I love that you’ve become so important to me,” he added, gazing at me from under heavily lidded eyes.
“I love that you are so totally wrapped up in my life now,” I answered, my heart thumping wildly … what were we saying? We both paused, and he seemed to be making a decision … but I wanted to say it first. I knew how I felt.
He breathed in one quick breath, and then said, “Grace, I … ”
The waiter, returning to our table with our menus, interrupted him. As he began to run through the specials, I caught Jack’s eye and winked at him. He smiled back, that perfect smile that now belonged to me. He had my heart. I might as well take that damned sexy grin.
Stupid waiter …
We ate dinner, laughing and teasing and talking about anything and everything. Even though we both said we were going to eat fast, we were enjoying it so much that before I knew it, the candles had burned low, the champagne (both bottles) was long since gone, and we were relaxed and fully happy.
We were alone, Jack having sent the waiter away eons ago. The stars overhead were bright. The waves were like a drum beat punctuating the night.
“This was perfect, Jack. Just perfect. Thank you for such a wonderful evening,” I said, taking his hand in mine.
“Now hold on, Crazy. This night is just getting started,” he said, standing and pulling me to him. “I, for one, am ready to head back to our cottage … yes?
Say yes, Gracie,” he chided, his hand on my face, nodding my head for me.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” I chanted, each word followed with a kiss to his neck, his ear, his chin.
“Hmm, that sounds familiar,” he teased, winking at me. We walked back through the gardens, through the night, back to our cottage. I could see it glowing in the distance, and I felt my skin begin to warm as I thought of all the delicious things Jack would be doing to me in there, and all the things I would get to do to him as well.
When he turned the key and unlocked the door, I gasped. There were candles everywhere, on every surface. They were all lit, and the effect was spectacular.
I turned to face him as he shrugged out of his jacket.
“You wicked, wicked man. How did you do all this?”
“I’m a celebrity. We get things done in a big way, babycakes,” he teased, running his hands up and down my back. The skin there heated instantly with the electricity that always flowed so freely between us.
“And a fire in the fireplace? Wow, that’s impressive,” I continued, walking backward into the room.
“Yeah, I saw it in a book about how to woo women … apparently you all like to be boinked in front of a roaring fire.” He laughed. I arched an eyebrow at his use of the word “boinked.”
The laughter slipped away as we really looked at each other. I kissed him chastely and whispered, “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” He smiled and answered, “Crazy, there is nothing that could drag me out of here tonight.”
I shook my head to clear it and made my way to the bedroom. Once inside, I quickly grabbed my bag and went into the bathroom. I let my hair down. It was softly curled around my face, and then I looked at the two pieces of lingerie I’d brought. I never usually dressed for bed. It was pointless. For one, Jack preferred me in one of his shirts, and I agreed. Secondly, I was rarely dressed for very long anyway once I was in the bed, so it was almost stupid.
This night was different, and I wanted to wear something for him. I had gone back and forth between the slutty and the sweet.
Option One: a black baby doll nightie, which covered me just enough.
Lacy and see through, it was hot. I looked amazing in it, and I knew it would drive Jack wild.
Option Two: a white silk nightgown. It had spaghetti straps and it hit me just below the knee. It swept down low in the back, while the front dipped low enough to give him a glance at his favorite of my attributes. I knew this would also drive Jack wild.
I made my selection, and placed my hand on the door, then took a deep breath and walked out into the room.
Jack was waiting for me.
Chapter 21
When I walked back out into the living room, I felt like someone else was moving me. My feet were not moving on their own. I padded softly to where he stood with his back to me, facing the fireplace. He had turned out the last of the lights, leaving the room entirely lit by candlelight, and the soft glow of the fire cracked quietly. The stereo was playing softly in the background. This stage was set. I felt my nervousness return.
Why are you nervous? This is your Jack …
That is exactly why I was nervous. This was my Jack, and while he had explored every inch of my body with wild abandon, this was something new, something different. And it would alter the way we looked at each other from here on. This would not just be sex, though I was loath to call it making love … I always hated that term. But something would be made here tonight.
I gazed at him in quiet reflection, watching his strong hands running through his hair as he watched the flames. I took him in—his strong back, his strong arms, his strong jaw … his strength.
A contemplative sigh escaped my mouth, and he turned to me, his face radiant in the glow from the dancing light. His eyes took me in now, sliding down my body and back up to my face. A smile crossed his features, which I answered back with my own.
“Hey,” I whispered
“Hey, yourself,” he answered back, as he admired my choice in lingerie.
My hair spilled down across my shoulders in the firelight. I knew he could see the shape of my body beneath the ivory gown that clung to me like a sheath.
I felt beautiful, but nervous? Yep, I was nervous, and I’d started shifting my weight back and forth, rolling on my ankles slightly in a way that he had come to recognize and call Nervous Grace.
Was he nervous too? How could he be nervous?
But there he was, biting his lip in the way that always intoxicated me so.
There was a hunger in his eyes, but there was also trepidation. The fact that he seemed nervous made me fall in love with him all over again.
And I was in love with him. There was no getting around it now. This boy, this man, had taken my heart, wrapped it up in his arms, and carried it with him. I wanted desperately to tell him, to let him know how I felt about him.
He finally spoke, breaking the nervous silence between us.
“I need … I need to touch my Grace,” he stated simply, and crossed to me.
As he closed the distance between us, even though it was only a few feet, I grew more nervous. For all my posturing and joking, I was nervous, here … now.
He stopped in front of me, reaching out with one hand to gently stroke my hair back from my face.
“Grace … you’re beautiful,” he whispered to me, and I felt myself relax as I leaned into his hand, pressing my cheek into his palm. His other hand cupped my other cheek, and he brought his face to mine. Gently he kissed my forehead, my eyelids, my nose, my blushing cheeks and, finally, he brought his lips to my own.
“Your lips belong to me,” he whispered.
He kissed me slowly and tenderly, his lips barely brushing mine. His kiss was like our first kiss on the beach, hesitant but deliberate. I breathed in his sweet scent, remembering the first time I was aware of it. Sun, chocolate, vanilla, pipe tobacco, chimney smoke, and that pure Hamilton that underlined it all.
I felt my body responding to him, and my nervousness fell away. My hands came up to his face, mimicking his own. I opened my eyes and found him staring at me in wonder. I pulled away slightly so I could see him, and then said, “Kiss me again, please.”
He smiled and obliged. My hands fell down and caught around his waist, pulling him tighter into me. His kiss deepened and his tongue pressed against my lower lip. I opened my mouth and felt him enter me. I moaned a little at the feel of his tongue against mine, and his hands clutched at my face, then began to lose themselves in my hair.
My hands crept around to the front of him and began to work on his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. His hands slid down as we continued to kiss, my silk catching on his rough fingertips, calloused by his guitar. I managed to work