I pulled him up my body and flipped him on his back. His surprise at my sudden attack quickly turned to passion as I kissed him fiercely, almost bruising his lips with my own. I struggled to remove his pants, and he finally lay naked before me, gloriously naked.
And gloriously hard.
I smirked at him, his eyes glowing in the candlelight. I grasped his hands in mine, kicked one leg over him, and positioned myself.
His eyes watched me in the same way he’d watched me remove my clothes earlier—with lust and want.
I winked and slid down on top of him. We both groaned at the feel of him filling me up again. His hips thrust upward as I rocked backward, and he hit me so deep I almost cried right there.
“Jesus, Grace, I missed you,” he moaned as I began to move up and down on him, his hands unclasping from mine so he could hold onto my hips and grind further into me.
“I know, I missed you too,” I answered, my pace beginning to quicken as I could feel myself getting close again.
He sat up, pulling my legs around his waist so he could thrust deeper into me, and we both sighed. He bent his head to my neck, kissing and sucking as I threw my head back and held on tightly to his shoulders.
“You are so sexy,” he growled, pumping into me in an almost angry way.
I loved Aggressive Jack. “I’m only sexy because you’re so good to me,” I moaned in his ear, knowing how he liked it when I talked to him.
It worked.
He growled again, lifting my hips and slamming me back into him, causing me to scream out his name once more. He hit that spot, that J-Spot, and then I was coming all around him.
“Fuck yes, Grace. That’s so good,” he moaned, and then my beautiful man made the beautiful face that he alone can make: jaw clenched, eyes shut tightly, lips parted, and brow furrowed.
The Brit came.
In me.
“Brilliant,” I whispered, clutching him to me, taking in his deep breaths as he collapsed against my chest. He rested his head on my shoulder as I held him.
“I love you, sweet girl,” he whispered, kissing the space between my breasts. Then he looked into my eyes.
“I love you too, Jack.” I kissed his forehead.
We slept together all night, tangled in the sheets.
His hands? Where do you think?
***
Jack flew back to L.A. the next morning after we had naked pancakes and naked waffles, respectively. I put him in a cab for the airport, knowing I would see him very soon. It was getting easier to say goodbye.
He spent the next few days doing interviews, photo shoots, and TV shows. He was on Leno and Ellen, and all the others, and he consistently sent me secret messages through the inane answers he gave the interviewers. Nice…
Countless photos began to appear in magazines, and he was truly becoming the next big thing. His name was on everyone’s lips, his face was on every cover, and he spent his evenings alone in his hotel room, giggling like a boy on the phone with me as we talked for hours and hours. The sexiest man alive was a closet Golden Girls fan.
I spent the next week in rehearsals, making sure everything was as it should be so I could justify taking a weekend off right before the final touches were put on the show. A few members of the local theater press showed up at the last day of rehearsal, specially invited by Michael, and I actually spent a few minutes being interviewed about the show and my role! No one had ever interviewed me before, and though it was nowhere near the stratospheric level (and climbing) of Jack’s success, it was nonetheless a victory for little ol’ me. I was proud of the work I was doing, and any time spent talking about the show was time well spent. I even had a “pinch-me” moment when a reporter asked me to spell my name for him: I realized I might soon see it in print! I marveled at the life I was living, and the good fortune I’d been granted for a second shot at this career.
As Jack geared up for the biggest night of his life, Leslie and I shopped for a dress worthy of a red carpet premiere, and—although I don’t know if it was him or me—Michael and I spent no time alone together all week.
Finally, it was the day of my flight back to L.A. I was packed and ready to go. I took a cab to the airport, with my dress folded carefully away.
I was going home.
Chapter 10
My flight landed around three p.m. on Thursday, otherwise known as the day before the premiere. I was practically jumping out of my seat by the time we neared LAX, energized by the nap I’d managed to catch on the plane.
I looked out my window, watching as the desert gave way to that decidedly Southern Californian terrain. When I glimpsed the ocean, I knew I was home.
Jack wanted so badly to pick me up at the airport, but he couldn’t for two reasons: One, he was booked solid with interviews and promotion, and two, there was no way he’d be able to dodge the paparazzi at the airport. There was always someone at the airport waiting to catch a star looking terrible after a transcontinental flight, and they’d be ecstatic to catch Jack picking up his unidentified redhead, whose legs would be locked firmly around his waist as he kissed her as only he could. Welcome home, indeed.
Since Holly was also occupied with all things premiere, I’d planned to catch a cab and head straight to my house. Jack had agreed to meet me there after his last interview, and after he’d said good night to his father. His dad had flown in for the premiere, and while I was looking forward to meeting him, I was also severely nervous about such a big event. I’d be meeting him tomorrow night, but tonight Jack had gotten the night off from most of his “familial obligations,” as he called them, to “welcome me home in style.” Who was I to argue with that?
As I walked through baggage on my way to the line of cabs parked outside, I was pleasantly surprised to hear my name, then see my car! Leaning on it, sunglasses firmly planted on face and wearing a huge grin, was the cutest thing I’d ever seen: Nick. One of the sweetest guys Holly and I had ever known, he was a screenwriter with an even bigger crush on Jack than mine.
“Hey, bitch. I heard you needed a ride,” he deadpanned.
“I really just do.” I laughed, running over and hugging him fiercely. I’d missed my little buddy.
We laughed as we hugged, then he threw my bag in the backseat. He was headed to the driver’s side when I held my hand out.
“No way, ass. I’ve been riding on a subway and in cabs for weeks now. I need to drive my motherfucking car. Keys, please,” I instructed.
He handed them over. “I figured as much. Sunglasses?” he asked as I settled in.
“Sunglasses, check. Let’s go home.”
We drove the long way, avoiding the highways so I could soak up as much Cali weather as I could. With top down, in true Southern California style, we got caught up on everything as we drove PCH north, then turned east on Sunset for one of my favorite drives—the one Jack and I took months ago. I could feel the sun on my face, smell the tangy sea air, and I knew I’d never want to live anywhere else for the rest of my life. I really did like New York, but I loved L.A.
We finally made it to Laurel Canyon, and just as I turned into my driveway and glimpsed my beautiful little bungalow, my phone rang. It was Jack. Nick kissed me on the cheek and hopped out as I answered the phone.
“Hey, love, hang on a second,” I said, and I waved Nick back over to the car. “Thanks for coming to get me. It’s so good to be back! Will I see you tomorrow?” I called after him.
“Oh, please, girl. I’m your date! I’m the beard who’s escorting you to the premiere, and here’s hoping I can get close to that co-star, Lane. Have you seen the body on that guy?” He muttered incoherently to himself as he trotted back to his car, settled in, and sped out of the driveway.
I knew all eyes would be on Jack at the premiere, and with Holly managing every aspect of his career, I’d be more likely to sew my head to that red carpet than walk it with him. But I still wished I could walk with the man I loved on his special night.