As she floated down to earth, Des’s weight pressed into her, his lips at her temple.
“That’s two.”
“I can count.” She wound her arms around his neck and drew him closer. “Though, I might not be able to after the next one.”
“That’s my goal.”
He reached over her to pull open the drawer next to the bed and grabbed a silver packet. Tearing it with his teeth, he never took his eyes off her. He sheathed himself with the condom and came back down onto his palms.
Here we go.
As he nudged her legs apart, she lifted to meet him. Positioning the head of his cock at her entrance, he brought his mouth down to hers for a deep yet tender kiss as he entered her in a single, steady stroke. His thighs were heavy between hers, his hips grinding her into the bed.
Hot, primal, carnal heat filled her with each movement. She was crushed beneath him, absorbed by the softness of the bed and floating on a wave of euphoria that she wanted to last forever. The sweet friction of their bodies pulled her out of a satiated state, hunger returning with force.
She wanted him. Needed him.
He angled his hips, shifting so that he filled her more deeply. His mouth was hot at her throat, teeth on her skin, the wild fluttering of her heart intensified by his hands all over her. Pleasure swelled, the pace increased. In that moment there was nothing but the sound of his deep, rumbling moan and the heady scent of him.
The orgasm slammed into her out of nowhere and her throat burned with a scream as she let go, falling, falling, falling. Her nails dragged up his back and he panted against her neck, her muscles squeezing him tight.
Now it was her turn to watch him unfold, the pupils of his entrancing eyes widening until she stared into an abyss. He moved with the powerful grace of a predatory cat, the muscles in his back cording beneath her hands.
“Gracie, baby.” It was drawn out, long and anguished and beautiful. He loomed above her, his hand finding her breast as he thrust.
He pressed his forehead to hers, noses touching as she stared unblinking back, wanting to drown in him, wanting to go under and never come back up.
“I want you to come, Des.” The words shook, her body already breaking apart. “Come for me.”
Her name was on his lips as he threw his head back, roaring his release to the ceiling. His skin glistened in the dim light, his tattoos stark against flushed skin. As he let his weight rest beside her she curled into him, never to be the same again.
Chapter Seven
Gracie wasn’t a morning person, not usually anyway. But the first crack of sunlight had her eyes snapping open like she’d been jabbed with a stick. She tried to shift onto her back, but something held her down.
A tanned arm, sprinkled with dark hair, lay over her midsection, a hand curled possessively against her stomach. It was difficult not to notice the jut of something hard against her lower back nor hear the drowsy murmur of pleasure as Des moved against her in his sleep.
Her body ached. Everywhere he’d touched her burned with satisfaction and a hint of delicious soreness. The memory of him moving above her would be forever imprinted in her mind, a bar set impossibly high for any other man she might end up with. Gracie cringed at the thought.
No other man would ever compare to Des.
Despite the stillness of her body, her heart beat wildly. Panic seeped through her like a poison, stilling her movement while her insides went into shock. What had she done? One minute she was at her mother’s house defending herself and her choices and then next…
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to slow her breathing. She’d almost had sex with Des at the restaurant and, if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d come home with him to do the one thing which would either ruin their friendship or ensure she’d break her promise to her father.
What the hell were you thinking? You can’t have it all. This isn’t a fairy tale.
Beautiful, kind, imperfect Des. He was her friend and she’d screwed it up by sleeping with him. How could she have been so stupid?
Any way she turned she would be hurting someone and making herself miserable. She had shared something special with Des last night. It wasn’t just amazing sex. They had a connection on some primal, instinctual level that made her body and soul sing.
Deep down, she knew that she’d never have that with anyone else.
But being with Des would mean putting them both through hell with her family, not to mention that she’d have to live with the guilt of failing her father. No matter how much she wanted to explore their connection, she couldn’t put him through that.
She couldn’t risk giving in, only to lose him when it all got too hard.
To protect them both she had but one option—end it now.
Des had hoped for many things upon waking after spending an incredible night with Gracie. He’d hoped she was willing to climb on top of him for the promise of continued pleasure, despite the fact they’d woken up in the middle of the night for round number two. He’d hoped that she’d be up for breakfast and the strongest cup of coffee he could make. At the very least, he’d hoped that she’d be happy to laze about in bed for a while before they faced the real world.
Yet as the sunlight streamed in through wooden blinds, and his eyes adjusted to the pale morning light, what he got was something else entirely.
Gracie was fastening her bra while searching for her underwear. Her hair stuck out in all directions, the curls tangled and wild like a halo around her face. Mascara had smudged under her eyes, giving her a sexy dishevelled look. But it was the wide-eyed, fearful expression on her face that caused Des’s blood to run cold.
“Looking for these?” he asked, plucking her lacy underwear from where they draped over the railing at the end of the bed.
“Uh, yeah.” She took them from him, her eyes averted. “Thanks.”
“Something wrong?” He threw the covers back and got out of bed. He didn’t miss the way her lips parted when she caught his naked frame in her gaze.
“No, nothing’s wrong.” She wriggled her hips as she pulled the cream scrap of lace up over her thighs. “I…uh, have to get going.”
“So soon?”
“Duty calls.” She folded her arms across her chest, her breasts pushing up and looking more delectable than ever.
His cock stirred again. He took a step towards her, wanting to stroke that smooth skin of hers until she melted against him. Instead, she found his boxer briefs on the floor and handed them to him, a silent request for him to keep his distance.
“Gracie, it’s Sunday.” He pulled the briefs on but made no move to get dressed further. “You don’t work weekends.”
“But you do…don’t you?”
“I’m not on ’til the evening. The restaurant is covered for the brunch shift.” He sighed. “I do have some sort of a life, you know.”
“Right.” She nodded. “Yes, well I should still be going anyway.”
“Tell me what’s wrong.” He closed the distance between them and took her hands in his. They were cold, fine-boned. “I thought you had a good time last night.”
“I did.” Her eyes fluttered up, her dark lashes framing them perfectly. In the course of their intimate night together he’d learned that her eyes were not a mere brown but a mixture of golds, reds, and chocolate shades. Brown was far too boring an adjective for someone like Gracie.
“Then why are you so eager to run away? If I hadn’t woken then would you have said goodbye?”
“We had our night, Des.” She tugged her hands away from him. “That’s all it was. One night.”