“Are you leaving me?” he asked.
“No. I’m getting a pillow.”
Her arms brushed his legs, and her hand slid up and down his cock again. Ethan wanted to bury himself in her wet heat. Wanted to slide in to the hilt and fuck her senseless. But he held himself in check, waiting to see where she would go. He didn’t wait long. Her plump lips wrapped around the crown of his cock and sucked. Then she slid her tongue up and down his cock as she fondled his balls.
Ethan didn’t see stars. He saw the entire solar system. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. It’s yours, baby. Take it all.”
And she did.
She took every inch of him, sliding and sucking as she moved from the base of his cock to the head. And she did it over and over again. Her hair brushed his stomach, and she raked her nails against his thighs. Ethan bent over and fisted her hair, rubbed her shoulders, reached for her breasts.
He needed to do something.
Something that would relieve the almost painful pressure that surrounded his cock. But he couldn’t see. And she wanted him this way.
Maybe if he begged, she’d take pity on him. “Graciela. Please.”
She pressed a kiss to his cock. “What do you need?”
“I need you to ride me. Right now.”
The rip of the condom packet made him woozy.
Please, Gracie, hurry.
Then her thighs landed outside his, and his cock strained to find her heat. Her hands pressed against his shoulders, and she nestled her face in the crook of his neck. He breathed in the flowery scent of her hair and prayed she’d ride him hard.
He placed his hands around her waist and nudged her. “You’re torturing me, sweetheart. I need you.”
“You’ve got me,” she said.
Then she sank down. Hard. Ethan’s body warmed from his cock outward. Her slick walls teased and taunted. She pulled him in and held on tight, moaning her pleasure as he hummed his own. Every muscle in his body flexed in response to her movements. He grunted and groaned. Didn’t give a fuck what he looked like, either.
“Too tight,” she breathed into his ear.
He loosened his hold on her waist. “Kiss me, Gracie.”
She leaned into him and placed her hands on the sides of his face. She explored his mouth, revered it, and when she came up for air, he panted. The pace of her breathing changed, grew shallow, needy, mirroring his own short breaths. He wasn’t the only one strung tight.
“Gracie, I need you to fuck me. I need you to make me come, baby.”
“I need it, too.”
He searched for her clit. The minute he found it, Gracie cried out. “You’re burning, aren’t you, Gracie?”
“Oh, God. Yes, yes, yes. Please keep doing that.”
His fingers circled her clit as she rode his cock. He pressed his face against her chest, licked his way to one nipple, then the other. She whimpered. And the sound made him want to beat his fists against his chest in triumph. Surely, she would kill him. The strain he was putting on every part of his body couldn’t be healthy. He’d never recover. But fuck if he would tell her to stop.
She placed her hands on his shoulders, and her nails scraped his skin. He welcomed the discomfort. Anything to take his mind off the torture of being on the edge for minutes more than any man should bear. She adjusted her legs and rode him fast. Ethan wanted to cry in relief. Instead, he chanted his approval. “Yes, baby. That’s it. That’s it.”
On the verge of the orgasm to end all orgasms, he drove upward, seeking the right angle to bring them both to release. At this rate, he would come before her. And he wanted them to reach that summit together. He found her clit again and rubbed.
“Oh, Nic. I’m going to come.”
He wished he could block out the sound of her voice. Each time she shouted Nic’s name, Ethan jerked as though she’d delivered a physical blow. He didn’t deserve her pleasure, but he took it just the same.
“Hang on, Gracie. Not yet.” He ripped off the scarf, needing to see her eyes when she came.
She drew back. Her slack mouth and glazed eyes betrayed her confusion. “What is it?”
“I don’t want it to end. Let’s slow it down.” She pulsed around him and he gritted his teeth. “Ride me slow, baby.”
She leaned forward, pressing her breasts into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her fiercely. When they separated, she gulped in air and he rested his head on her shoulder. They remained still for several seconds, neither making a sound.
Before he could ask whether something was wrong, Gracie ground her hips and lifted herself off him, using his shoulders for support. “Is this how you want it? Slow?”
When she sank down, he choked out a curt “yes.”
She continued to torture him several minutes more, whispering soft words of encouragement. Ethan couldn’t hold off anymore. His body vibrated and his erection pulsed. Gracie’s moans grew louder. She pressed deeper into his chest and angled her body, enabling her clit to rub against his pelvis each time she sank onto him.
To his surprise, she shouted her release before him. At its pinnacle, her orgasm seemed to move through him, forcing its way out of her and sweeping over him in the aftermath. He bucked against her, grasping her waist and lifting her up and down his length, unable to decipher when her orgasm had ended and his had begun. A storm of sensation rocketed through him, bringing him pleasure beyond anything he’d ever experienced. He wasn’t sure he’d recover from this, from her.
Later that night, after moving to her bedroom, they spooned in her bed, spent and lost in their own thoughts. Abruptly, she turned toward him. “What were you thinking about out there, when you were driving the course?”
Ethan opened his eyes. He suspected she wouldn’t believe him, but he told her the truth anyway. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“Is that why you like to speed? Because it gives you a place where your mind shuts down?”
He’d never thought about it in those terms. In a speeding car, his mind focused on remaining on the road, hugging the curves, and avoiding a crash. And he relished the time to get away from the shit that burdened him. Behind the wheel, he escaped his job and the infinite responsibilities that came with it. “You might be on to something. It’s therapeutic.”
“Art is my therapy.”
“How so?”
“Growing up, whenever I had a problem, I’d find my way to a museum. I went to high school in Manhattan, so after school, I’d go to the Met, or to the Guggenheim. And I’d walk, and walk, and walk. Study paintings, even the ones that didn’t attract as much attention. There was something about seeing so much beauty, knowing it had been cultivated over years, an artist’s passion captured in a painting or sculpture. It calmed me. Not sure why.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s what driving does for me. Sometimes my job can get overwhelming. And I don’t love it as much as I used to.”
“Could you do something else?”
Ethan couldn’t imagine doing anything else. “It’s not that easy, Graciela. I have a lot of people who depend on me. And what kind of person would I be if I hightailed it every time the job gets tough? My parents certainly didn’t have that option. And they did shift work in a canned foods factory.”
“So speeding is your escape?” she asked.
“Yeah, I guess. I take my frustration out on the road, which isn’t wise, I know, but maybe that’s why I do it.”
He wanted to say more. To tell her that he hadn’t felt the need to speed since they’d started spending time together. She balanced him. Made him yearn for a quiet life—with her in it. But sharing these feelings wasn’t part of the bargain they’d reached, so he stuffed his soppy feelings away. “Thanks for making my birthday so special. I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else.”
She blushed and dropped her face into the crook of her arm. “That’s a nice thing to say.”
Ethan nuzzled her ear. “It’s true.”
He stiffened when he realized the implication of his words. Each minute in Gracie’s presence made it more difficult to envision the inevitable end of their affair. He didn’t want to spend time with anyone else. She’d become his sanctuary. The place where he could be himself. The place where he could pretend there weren’t duties and responsibilities tugging him in too many directions.
But Gracie didn’t want more. And given that he was keeping a significant part of himself hidden from her, he didn’t deserve more, either.
Gracie snuggled into him. “It’s okay, Nic. I took it as a compliment, not as a profession of your love and undying commitment.”
“That’s not what you want, right?”
She hesitated. “Right.”
“Same here.”
Her eyes closed and a lazy smile spread across her face. He’d do anything to keep that satisfied look on her face. The thought of disappointing her weighed heavily on his chest. All he had to do was stick to the plan. Enjoy her now and leave her with pleasant memories of their time together. He prayed he wouldn’t screw up.
T
he next morning, Gracie’s muscles ached. Everywhere. As she stretched, her core pulsed, still tender from Nic’s relentless attention. She’d grin and bear that particular soreness.
Nic’s side of the bed was empty, but the aroma of coffee filled her nostrils.
She sat up and readjusted the straps of her negligee, disappointed that she and Nic didn’t have time to talk more. He’d opened up to her last night, had shared his fears about the growing chasm between him and his family. They didn’t understand why he couldn’t visit more. He didn’t think they understood the pressure he was under. She’d suggested a surprise visit, when his schedule would allow, so it wouldn’t be inconvenient for him, and so they wouldn’t be disappointed if he had to cancel at the last minute. He’d told her he thought it was a good idea. And then his eyes had darkened, and there’d been no more talking after that.
Gracie wished they could stay in bed all day, but she had an appointment to prepare for. She reached for her iPhone on the nightstand. The screen indicated that she’d missed a call. Several calls. From Brenda. Gracie’s heart pounded in her chest as she read the time: 9:42 a.m. She was late.
Shit, shit, shit.
Gracie sprang from the bed and whipped open her closet door, grabbing the first pair of pants she could find. She didn’t have to hear the message to know that Brenda was calling because she’d missed an appointment with the president of the Bentley Foundation.
With one leg in her slacks, Gracie called Brenda. Her assistant picked up after the first ring.
“Brenda. It’s Gracie. I know I’m late.”
“Gracie, is everything okay? I was so worried.”
“I’m fine. I . . . I overslept. I set the alarm, but it didn’t go off. Did Ms. Cantrell call?”
“Yes. She was looking for you. She said you’d have to reschedule the appointment.”
Gracie dropped to the bed with a groan. “Did she seem angry?”
Brenda didn’t say anything.
“Brenda, you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. No, she didn’t seem angry. Just a bit annoyed. Impatient. This is not like you, Gracie. What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on, Brenda. I overslept. Can you give me Ms. Cantrell’s number?”
“Sure.”
Gracie grabbed a pen and wrote the number down on the back of a receipt she’d found on her nightstand. “Okay, I’ll call right now. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” Brenda said. Her voice, however, lacked any of the enthusiasm Gracie had come to associate with her assistant.
Gracie lifted her sluggish butt off the bed and finished putting on her slacks. What a nightmare. There was no time for moping, though. She needed to fix this. Steeling herself for an unpleasant call and expecting to reach Belinda Cantrell’s assistant, she was surprised when Ms. Cantrell herself picked up the line.
“Ms. Ramirez, I missed you this morning.” The woman’s brisk tone highlighted the fact that she was not amused.
“Ms. Cantrell, I’m so sorry. I apologize. I overslept, and there’s no excuse for it. All I can ask is that you give me a chance. For the sake of LTN.”
“Ms. Ramirez, the Bentley Foundation gets thousands of requests each year from organizations seeking its support. A select number of them are invited to make proposals. An even fewer number of those inquiries result in an interview. You missed yours. I’m not inclined to give you a second chance.”
Gracie’s eyes watered. This couldn’t be happening. This was her shot to save LTN, and she’d wasted it—because she’d spent the evening with a man who admitted he wanted nothing more from her than a casual affair.
The man in question chose that moment to walk into her bedroom with two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. She turned away from him and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window she’d always treasured. Today, however, she didn’t appreciate the light that filtered through it. The sun was too bright, like a beacon shining down on her and her unfortunate lapse in judgment.
After taking a deep breath, she groveled. “Ms. Cantrell, I recognize that it was unprofessional of me to miss the appointment, but I can assure you nothing like this will ever happen again. I made a mistake. And I own up to it. I just need a second chance. I’ll make myself available whenever you need me.”
The ensuing pause made Gracie’s stomach turn.
After what seemed like an eternity, Ms. Cantrell sighed. “Very well, Ms. Ramirez. I’ll have my assistant call yours and propose another date. Don’t miss it.” And then Ms. Cantrell hung up.
Gracie released the breath she’d been holding. All was not lost. And things certainly could have been worse. Ms. Cantrell could have refused to meet her altogether. She’d been given a second chance, and she wouldn’t screw it up.
With a roll of her tense shoulders, she faced Nic.
Wearing yesterday’s jeans and T-shirt, Nic greeted her with a sexy grin. His mussed hair jutted in dozens of different directions, a visual reminder of the many times she’d run her fingers through it last night.
“Good morning, Gracie.”
His voice slid over her like a protective veil. It comforted her. Made her forget her troubles. The difficult tasks she had to accomplish. And that was a big problem, because he wouldn’t be around in six months’ time, when LTN would border on collapse. He was too much.
They
were too much. Somehow their no-strings affair had transformed into a connection that tethered her to him, that made her want more.
She needed distance, both physical and emotional.
She reached for the second coffee mug in his hands. “Good morning, and thank you. Glad to see you’re comfortable in my kitchen.”
He nodded and sipped his coffee, watching her over the rim of his mug. “You had an appointment this morning?”
“I
missed
an important appointment this morning. I thought I set the alarm on my phone. Planned to be up at the crack of dawn to be sure I had more than enough time to go over my notes and get there early. The alarm on my phone didn’t go off.” She blew on the coffee, desperate to finish it quickly and head to the office.
His face turned ashen. “It was my fault. Your alarm, I mean. It went off, but I turned it off.”
Gracie’s mouth gaped. “You turned off my alarm?”
He set his mug on the side table and inched toward her. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. You looked so peaceful. I watched you for a bit, planned to wake you up with a kiss, but then I fell back asleep.”
She slid backward, careful not to let the steaming coffee slosh onto her skin. He stopped advancing and planted his feet in the middle of the room.
Well, that was something, at least. She hadn’t been a complete idiot. Still, what was she thinking having him over the day before a big meeting? And that was the point, wasn’t it? She
hadn’t
been thinking. “It’s my fault, really. I should have timed your surprise better. Trying to do and be too much all at once. It’s a continuing problem.”
Gone. She needed him gone.
His eyes searched hers. “Is everything going to be okay? With the appointment?”
Gracie gulped the coffee and placed the mug on her nightstand. “It’ll be fine.” But that was just wishful thinking on her part. She strode to the closet and pulled out an outfit for work. “So I’m going to be busy this week. You?”
He stared into his mug. “Yeah. I’ll be busy, too. Probably won’t be able to come in for service hours. Is that okay?”
She didn’t hesitate. “That’s fine.”
Nic cocked his head to the side. After several seconds of silence, he left her bedroom. By the time he returned, he’d donned his sweater and she’d dressed.
Nic’s gaze followed her as she moved about the room. Ankles crossed, he leaned against her bedroom door in a lazy pose that was at odds with the chiseled angles of his face and the ever-present furrowed brow.
“Gracie?”
“Yes?’
“I’m sorry you missed your appointment.”
“So am I,” she said as she strode past him to the bathroom.
Minutes later, as she gathered her purse and coat, a million thoughts swirled through her head. They’d agreed to a casual affair, but it walked and talked like something else—something like a committed relationship. She’d easily slipped into the role of the girlfriend despite her claim of wanting nothing more than someone to warm her bed. And she’d wrapped herself in the cocoon of their temporary relationship, forgetting those aspects of her life that made her who she was.
She’d never missed a work appointment. And given LTN’s dire situation, the mistake took on talismanic significance. If she didn’t focus on LTN, she’d be doing exactly what Hector Ramirez assumed she would—letting her passion for a man overrule her common sense. When would she learn to focus on only one aspect of her life? It had to be work or her love life, not both. Never both.
She needed to get out of here, but first she had to face the man who stood at her apartment door.
She walked to him, unsure what to say. “So,” she said.
“So,” he replied.
Gracie sighed. “So I guess I’ll see you when I see you.” She winced when the words left her mouth. What an idiotic thing to say.
His eyes flashed in irritation, but he quickly regained his composure. “Right.”
Before she could apologize, he lifted her chin and dipped his head. The kiss was unexpectedly tender. She didn’t need it. But she wanted it. The purse at her shoulder dropped to the floor. She stepped into his space and threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Her eyes begged to close, but she forced them to remain open. Then she stepped back. “I have to go.”
“I know you do,” he said.
His voice, low and slow, held a hint of resignation. Good for him. At least one of them knew what was going on. As for her, she didn’t know her ass from her elbow.
* * *
Any doubts about Nic’s view of their relationship were extinguished later that week. After lunch on Friday, Brenda rang her office line. “Gracie, you have a special delivery.”
For a minute, she wondered whether Nic had sent her flowers. He’d never done it before, but maybe he wanted to thank her for his birthday gift, which, she could tell, he’d thoroughly enjoyed.
She jumped from her chair and left her office. Brenda stood just outside her door with an ivory envelope in one hand. “Expecting something?” Brenda asked.
Gracie grinned. “No, Ms. Nosy. I’m not.”
Brenda circled her and repeatedly sniffed the air. “I smell intrigue. I need gossip, Ms. Ramirez.”
In response, Gracie shuffled into her office and softly closed the door behind her.
As she walked to her desk, Gracie turned the envelope over and slipped her thumb through the flap. Expecting a note, she gasped when she saw five hundred-dollar bills.
Then
she saw the note tucked behind the cash. It read,
The thought you put into the gift was enough. Thanks for an unforgettable experience.
It was signed,
Nic
.
Gracie licked the front of her teeth as she stuffed the note and the money back into the envelope. Then she dropped into her chair. She’d given him a gift, and he’d thrown it back in her face.
Why?
Gracie turned the question over in her brain so many times she had to shake her head to clear it. And then the answer came to her. This was a no-strings affair. It wouldn’t last. They’d agreed as much. And a gift of that magnitude was too personal, too familiar, too much for a casual affair like theirs.
When the arrangement was over—and there was no doubt in her mind that he’d move on—he would take a piece of her heart with him. She couldn’t stem that hurt, but she could lessen its blow. With this in mind, she devised a plan that would put them back in the casual space he so obviously wanted and she so obviously needed.
Her hands shook as she lifted the receiver and dialed Nic’s number.
He answered after one ring. “Gracie?”
“Hi, Nic.”
“Was just thinking of you,” he said. “I’m having a crappy day and thoughts of you calm me.”
Gracie leaned into the receiver as though it would close the distance between them. Ridiculous. This chat was off-script and didn’t fit with her plan. “I was wondering if you’re available for a drink tonight. I’m heading to New York for the weekend, but I thought it would be nice to see you before I go.”
“What time?” he asked.
“Six o’clock?”
Papers rustled in the background, followed by several clicks of the keyboard. “How about seven o’clock? I have a project that I have to finish before then.”
“That’ll work. Let’s meet at the Berkshire Pub on Connecticut. Do you know it?”
“No, but I’ll have someone—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
“Nic?”
“Yeah, I’ll get the address and meet you there.”
“Okay. Let’s meet at the bar. Have a better day.”
“You already took care of that.”
Gracie had no words. A pang of regret made her heart ache.
“Did you receive my delivery?” he asked.
“I did. And the message that came with it. I’ll see you tonight.”
She didn’t wait for his response. Gracie took the receiver and jammed it into the base. Then she picked up the receiver and banged it into the base several more times. With just a few words, he’d undermined her objective—to view him as nothing but the man of the moment. But then she looked down at the envelope on her desk. Well, if Nic wanted casual, that’s exactly what he’d get.