The Unidentified Redhead
Page 29

 Alice Clayton

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“Oh, Grace. Gracie … I love … ” he started to say, but never finished. I placed my hand over his sweet mouth and whispered, through my tears,
“I know.”
The feeling of him inside me as I began to come, my shuddering and his shaking drove me over the edge, and with a throaty groan from both of us, we came at the same time.
I had the distinct honor of watching his angelic face as he came inside of me … the furrowed brow, the pursed lower lip, the clenched jaw, his whole face set in exquisite torture. It felt exactly right. We’d never taken our eyes off each other.
He was going to tell me he loved me. I would let him next time.
Making the sexiest groan I had ever heard, he collapsed against me, sighing sweetly, and wrapped his arms tightly around me, trying to get as close as possible. We fell back against the cool sheets, disentangling only to tangle once more as I felt the loss of him immediately.
“Don’t go … no,” I urged, wanting to keep him inside of me as long as possible. I cradled his head to my breast, running my fingers through his hair as he sighed contentedly, his breathing slowing. His hands traveled across my body, revisiting his favorite places, finally resting on my breasts.
As I heard his Happy Sound, I felt a sense of lovely exhaustion and peace settle over me. I no longer cared what would happen tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that.
With my Jack snuggled up against me in the most delicious way and his hands firmly around my breasts, I sighed my own happy sigh and closed my eyes. I knew now, with certainty, I belonged to him.
About twenty minutes later, both of us still nestled into each other, he cleared his throat and lifted his head off my chest, where he had been contentedly drawing circles on my breasts.
“Well now, I don’t know about you, but I think that was a fine bit of shagging, yes?” he asked, a glint in his eye.
“Yes, that was damn fine … but I do have one request,” I answered, stretching my arms behind me.
He looked back at me, concerned. “What, love?” he asked, as he pushed himself up to look at me fully.
“Can I eat that candy now?” I asked.
I heard him mutter the words “Candy … pfft,” and then I was whacked thoroughly in the head with a pillow. This time, my tears were from crazy-insane laughter as I attempted to defend myself from a pillow wielding, chastising, na**d Brit.
There is really no defense against that.
Chapter 22
2:17 a.m.I woke up with a start and felt Jack clutch me closer in his sleep. I had been dreaming bad dreams, not nice dreams.
Sad dreams.
In the last one, Jack and I were standing across from each other, on opposite sides of a busy street in a crowded city. We were both trying to cross the street to each other and kept being buffeted back onto the sidewalk. Each time one of us would try to cross, another line of angry cars would rush past us, making it impossible for us to reach each other. Finally, he was tired of waiting and turned from me, walking away. That was when I woke up. It didn’t take a genius to figure that one out …
I pulled myself out of his tight embrace, and grabbing his shirt from the floor, I made my way back out to the sitting room. The fire was still burning, but it had burned down to just embers now, glowing like rubies into the darkness. I buttoned up, running a hand through my hair, and noticed the moon over the ocean.
It was full and round and seemed to be very close to the earth. I opened the patio door, and when I felt a cool breeze, I grabbed the throw that was on the couch. Wrapped in soft cashmere, I let myself out into the night and stood in the quiet. The only sound was the ocean. I breathed in the salt air, letting out the tension that had come with the dreams.
I stood silent, watching the moon and the sea, listening to the tides roll in and out, and thought about what had happened earlier in the night—the absolutely indescribable feeling of him inside me. Just thinking about it brought a flush to my skin.
You had sex … and it was good.
That was an understatement.
I heard footsteps behind me, and I smiled as I felt his hands creep around my waist.
“What are you doing?” he asked, in a stage whisper. I shivered as he kissed my ear.
“Just looking. Did I wake you?”
“Yes. I woke up because my hands were empty … you took away my favorite pillows,” he muttered, sweeping my hair back to nuzzle the nape of my neck.
“We had sex,” I blurted out suddenly, and I could literally feel him smiling.
“We sure did.” He chuckled.
I giggled, but when he kissed my neck, I stopped. My hands came up behind me and tucked into his hair, guiding his lips back down to my neck. I pushed back against him slightly and felt him press into me, his arousal evident.
I sighed as I felt his hands sneak under the throw, under his shirt and up to my breasts. When he found them, I groaned, my ni**les hardening immediately beneath his talented hands.
He spun me around to face him, and I saw that he was still na**d.
“Aren’t you cold, Sweet Nuts?” I asked, wrapping my arms around him and sharing my blanket.
“No, actually, you have me quite warmed up,” he stated, taking my hand and guiding it lower, encouraging me to grab some Hamilton.
Oh, go on, you deserve another …
I really did.
I wrapped my hand around him, relishing the way he moaned instantly at my touch. I urged him back inside, moving him backward toward the couch.
Once there, I pushed him down and removed the throw, propping one leg up on the couch as I stood before him. Then, I unbuttoned my shirt and leaned closer to him.
“How about a little more slap and tickle?” I asked, in a husky voice. He just grinned that damn sexy grin at me. It made me insane when he did that.
Finished with the shirt, I let it fall to the ground. I took his hands and placed them on my hips, my leg still propped up, opening me up to him. I let one of my own hands dip below, dragging through my own sex, moaning as I did so. His deep green eyes were heavily lidded as he watched me touch myself.
He licked his lips. He was dying to taste me. I let my hand come up and extended one finger to him, running it across his lips, letting him take it into his mouth, sucking enthusiastically. He groaned and tightened his grip on my hips. I leaned closer to him, placing my mouth right next to his ear.
“Now that you have made love to me, which was unbelievable, I want you to f**k me,” I whispered, feeling him tense beneath me. “Hard.” His tongue darted out and licked my neck … hard. He grabbed at my hips, leaving handprints on my skin … hard. His right hand came up and pulled my hair, angling my neck so that he could nibble at me … hard. He took my right hand and put it on his c**k again … hard.
“You feel that? That is all you, Crazy,” he said, as he looked at me with fire in his eyes.
He even looked at me hard. This would be the polar opposite of what had happened earlier. This would be a straight up, old fashioned pounding.
I placed a knee on either side of him and felt his arms come back up to encircle my waist. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I felt him pressing against me. This time, instead of taking him in slowly, I took him in hard.
We both cried out at the suddenness of it, and I marveled again at how well we fit together. I rose back up again, almost withdrawing all the way, and then slammed my h*ps back down.
“Oh fuck, that’s good,” I moaned, and he went crazy. He gripped my h*ps tightly, rocking me back and forth furiously on him, grinding into me as his mouth sucked at my nipples.
I arched my back and pushed my br**sts further against him, riding him, as I had wanted to for so long now.
Nonsensical words were pouring forth from my mouth. I no longer had the power of coherent thought. He, however, was able to say the most deliciously nasty things.
“Fuck, Grace, you feel amazing … Christ Grace, I love watching you ride me … God, your tits are brilliant.”
These were said in my ear as he pounded into me, moaning and groaning and speaking in that heavenly accent. The more into it he got, the thicker the accent got. The closer we both got, the faster and harder he f**ked me. He was finally, blessedly, f**king me like it was his job.
I came hard, and when I did, I screamed his name so loudly I thought for sure he would try to cover up my mouth, but he didn’t.
He loved it.
He grinned at me while I came, thrashing about on top of him, feeling his hard c**k inside of me, stroking my J-Spot over and over again.
He felt my multiples as deeply as I did, groaning each time I would start another wave, pumping into me firmly and holding onto my hips, anchoring me and moving me the way he knew I needed it.
I came back just long enough to say, right in his ear, in a sex-filled voice,
“Jack, you f**k me so good.” And then he came. He came with a groaning bellow that shook me to my core and made me come again.
We were covered in sweet sweat as he pulled me back against the couch with him, sighing, grinning, stroking, touching, rubbing and caressing. We sank into the pillows, with him still inside me.
“Jesus … ” I started.
“… Christ,” he finished, and we laughed.
We were quiet for a moment, when I said, “Well, I did make you promise to make me see God this weekend.” I chuckled, sweeping his hair back from his forehead and kissing it lightly.
“And did I?” he had the nerve to ask.
“Yes, and all the saints, George. And all the saints,” I answered, grinning.
The next morning, I woke up early. What surprised me was that Jack was already awake. I normally had to drag his ass up using all manner of temptation to do so. I slipped back into his shirt again and padded out to the living room.
When he saw me, he put up a finger. He was on his cell.
“Right then. Ten miles from here? Excellent. Right, see you then,” he finished, hanging up the phone.
“Who was that?” I asked, walking over to him and snuggling into his arms for a hug.
“Just making plans for the shoot later today. You hungry?” he asked, hugging me tightly to him. He had already showered and smelled like soapy goodness.
“I’m starved. Someone made me work up an appetite last night,” I purred, pressing myself further into his embrace.
“Well then, let’s get you some breakfast,” he replied, pulling my arms from around his waist and planting a kiss on my forehead.
He pushed me toward the bathroom when I stopped him. “Wait, I was thinking, maybe, we could order in. You know, a little room service.” I winked at him, and he smiled.
“Grace, don’t you think it would be nice to go out for breakfast?” he chided, still pushing me toward the bathroom.
“Well, actually, no. I was thinking maybe we could have a little breakfast in bed, if you know what I mean,” I teased, reaching out to pull him closer to me.
He laughed, but stil held me at arm’s length. “I always know what you mean, Grace. Subtlety isn’t one of your gifts. But I need to square some things away for this shoot today, and this way we can spend at least part of the morning together.” He patted me on the head like a child.
“Now, be a good girl and scoot. Off you go,” he replied, finally succeeding in pushing me into the bathroom and closing the door.
“Good girl, my foot. You sure wanted me to be a bad girl last night,” I muttered, wondering at this odd morning behavior. Maybe Jack was strange after a good night of Grace and her magical oonie.
“What was that, Nuts Girl?” he asked through the door.
“I said, good girl, my foot! You sure wanted me to be a bad girl last night! ” I shouted back.
His response was silence … he really was in rare form this morning. I turned on the water, anxious to get back under this rain shower that I’d enjoyed so much yesterday. I realized this was the third shower in a row where I was without my chief hair washer, and I missed him. Ah well, better get used to it.
As I stripped down, I heard a rustling. The little shit had shoved a note under the door. What, were we twelve?
Nope, twenty-four.
I picked it up, and read:
Grace,
You are my favorite girl, good or bad.
But I must admit, I am leaning toward bad.
Johnny Bite Down
I laughed, wet my fingertip, then traced the shape of my hand, with my middle finger conveniently pointing up, and shoved the wet note back under the door. Even over the water, I could hear him howling.
It was so easy to crack him up.
Fifty minutes and two blocked attempts at nookie later, Jack had me seated in the restaurant and was ordering us breakfast. He was looking fine, with about two days worth of insanely good stubble. We were both dressed casually. He was in jeans and a black t-shirt, while I went with my standard yoga pants and camisole. Since I didn’t know if I would be going to the photo shoot today, I had a backup plan to fit in a run on the beach.
We talked about silly things, inane things. The amazing hotel, whether or not to go out for dinner tonight, whether we would have time to do some sightseeing tomorrow before we had to head back to L.A.
My flight to New York was on Tuesday at noon, and while I was excited, I still couldn’t help but get a little lump in my throat every time I thought about it. His week was shaping up to be busy. He had three interviews on Monday and already one scheduled for Tuesday.
We ate our pancakes and drank our juice, and he buttered my toast for me. I noticed at least one table that had figured out who he was, but he still showed as much affection for me as he did when we were in private. I found this to be both sweet and a little infuriating. It was as if he was determined to show Holly she was wrong about his fans. I wasn’t crazy about being the sacrificial lamb, though.
When I was finished, I stretched my arms over my head and noticed he was done as well.