A Graceful Mess (13 page)

“Want to see more?” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully causing her to giggle. Taking her bottom lip between her teeth she nods her head.

All right, she asked for it.

“Do you want some ice in your water?” Using the ice as an excuse to turn around, I slowly pull my basketball shorts down. My ass is now exposed. I wish I could see her face as she notices, but my back is turned away from her. The sweet sound of laughter bellowing from her lungs tells me enough. Opening the freezer I grab two ice cubes and turn back around to face her.

“You are too much!” She laughs as she shakes her head back and forth. Her feet dangle as her legs hang off the counter. There is something so sexy about a woman with nice feet. My eyes take hers in for a few moments. The temperature from the air conditioning being off is making the air thick and musty.

“Are you hot?” I already know the answer to that, but I ask anyway. She doesn’t speak, but nods her head.

“Here maybe this will cool you down.” Taking another step towards the counter where she is sitting, I see her spread her legs apart. Pulling at the sides of her coral dress, she slides it up so her bare legs dangle over the counter, and then she motions with her pointer finger for me to come closer. Standing in between her legs, I take one of the ice cubes to her lips and slowly trace her mouth. The ice is melting causing water to drip onto her exposed thighs but she doesn’t move, so I keep going. Moving the cube away from her mouth, I replace it with my lips. Giving her a little peck, I stick out the tip of my tongue and trace the imaginary lines were the ice was.

She is caught up in the moment and doesn’t see me grab the other ice cube from the counter and bring it up to her neck. Starting at her ear lobe, I move it down her neck and stop, hovering right over her breastbone. Pulling my face away from hers, I peer into her eyes. Once again I feel like we are talking without actual words. Suddenly as if we are both in a frantic hurry, she lifts her dress up over her ass. Her white lace panties are showing, and then her bra. The dress continues to lift until she has it over her head and tosses it onto the floor. Grace in all her beauty is sitting on my counter in just her bra and underwear. The sight is breathtaking. All reasoning went out the window the moment we stepped through the door. To think nothing would happen was absurd. We both knew what we were coming back here to do, whether we wanted to admit it or not. Here is this perfect, beautiful woman sitting on my counter ready for the taking, and all that crosses my mind is why she was so upset earlier. I want to be buried in her so fucking bad, but for some reason I also want to know why she was upset. How I always end up attracted to broken women is beyond me.

Kristy, my last girlfriend, was perfect. She was kind, beautiful, and a freak in the sheets, which made things that much better, but she wasn’t ready to settle down. There I was, working around the clock, and she was out partying all night. I should have known something was up when she stopped putting out. I mean, who the hell dates for two years, has sex almost every day, and then just suddenly stops? It wasn’t all her fault. I pushed her there, and I get our break-up was partly my fault. If I was around more, she wouldn’t have needed to go out and shack up with half of the guys on campus. The part that pisses me off to no end is knowing I was in the same town. I was working. Busting my ass to provide her with all of the things we talked about. While I was picking out her engagement ring she was blowing the fucking dean. The old, saggy, wrinkly ass dean was filling her mouth, while I was sitting picking out which setting would complement her finger.

That was a rude awakening.

I knew then that I would take up my father’s offer to move to Iowa. He had been pestering me for months, saying he wanted to open up a second site. When Carson decided to go to school here, it became official. He just didn’t know I would decide to run it, not until I broke up with Kristy. I couldn’t get out of Alabama fast enough, and I swore that the next time, if there ever was one, I would be as emotionally invested as I could possibly be without each of us getting smothered. As much as I enjoy having my dick sucked and the feeling of blowing my load, the feeling of being loved is more rewarding. I promised the next time, I would care more. I would invest more. I’m not sure what this is with Grace. Other than her being my client’s abandoned daughter and being hired to follow her, the chemistry is there. Just like it was with Kristy, but it is like my need to be around Grace is multiplied by like a fucking billion.

“Are you okay?” Her words pull me from my stupor.

“Yeah, are you?”

“What do you mean? I’m more than okay right now.”

If someone walked through the door to see her sitting on my counter, almost completely naked, they would call me a moron for not having her in my bed right now. But honestly, I want to figure out what is going on first. The storm doesn’t look like it is passing through, so we might be here awhile without power. We have plenty of time for sex.

“Hold onto me.” Her arms stretch out to hold me around my neck, as I pull her ass to my waist. Her legs tighten as I grab her and position her against me and then start to walk down the hallway. The hallway is pitch black since the three doors are closed. My father sleeps in the spare room when he’s here, but other than that it’s just me and Josie, unless Carson makes a visit. Her scent and the closeness of her sexy body push my senses into overdrive as I carry her down the hall.

He holds me tight against his chest as he walks down a long, dark hallway. I don’t know where we are going, but I can only hope it’s his bedroom. Using his foot to kick open a door to the left, we walk inside a large room. It’s dark, but I can still tell the décor is breathtaking. I wonder who decorated it. There’s a giant bed; it has to be a king because it’s almost double the size of mine. He walks backwards towards the bed and sits on the edge. I am straddling his lap and the position reminds me of our night at my house. I can only hope today ends the same way.

My hair is wavy from the rain and has fallen all over the place. I imagine I look like a mess, but right now I don’t care. Parker raises his hand and brushes my hair off of my cheek and around to the other shoulder. It is hanging over one of my breasts now. The movement of his legs under my butt causes me to shift in his arms. Hearing a thump against the floor, I know he was taking his shoes off. He pushes off of the ground and scoots his butt on the mattress, with me still on top of him. We make our way up the bed until his back is resting against the headboard. It is big and wooden with small, black, iron rods in the middle. My mind instantly thinks about being tied to them.

Maci would say my crazy imagination of kinkery is from all those romance novels I read, but I beg to differ. For some strange reason, I feel like these thoughts have been inside my mind for a long time. After what happened…I have been too scared to allow my mind to wander to those places, but since I met Parker, all my mind does is think about being tied up and bent over.

“Are you comfortable?”

I nod.

We sit staring into each other’s eyes for a few seconds. The sounds of wind thrashing against the house reminds me of something, but I can’t quite grasp the memory. I have never felt safer than right now, tucked away in the middle of nowhere with Parker. The thought escapes me as Parker opens his mouth to speak.

“So what had you all tore up? I don’t mean to overstep, but it was apparent you were upset about something.”

“I was. It’s a long story, something I don’t share with anyone.” He looks like I just slapped him across the face. Surely he would understand some things you just don’t tell people.

“I get it, but if you’re upset, tell me whose ass I need to beat to make you feel better.”

“My mother’s and Maci’s,” I laugh.

“Oh, so that’s who was with you, your mom?”

I nod again.

“Okay.” He doesn’t pry, but simply runs his fingertips down my arms, over and over. His soft touch puts me at ease, and I like it. I like him. I like Parker Porter, and I don’t even know him, but I have never been this drawn to someone. Even after
Brody
, I never dated anyone exclusively. It took a really long time for me to even feel comfortable enough to be around men again, and then one night I was out with Maci and met Todd. I slept with him and cried the entire time. I thought if I just got it over with, if I just had sex again, it would somehow erase what had happened. I was wrong and my casual hook-up was probably one of the stupidest things I’ve done as an adult. He must have thought I was some freak because I never heard from him again. But here we are, Parker and I, in another intimate situation, and he hasn’t run for the hills yet and strangely I don’t feel awkward or uneasy. It’s like being wrapped in his arms with nothing but the warmth of his body next to me is the most natural thing in the world. It’s not his touch that scares me; it’s the feeling I get when he does it.

We stay sitting looking into each other’s eyes for a few minutes. His fingertips running up and down my arms make me quiver from his touch. I want so badly to lean forward and kiss his plump lips, but I fight the urge because the thought of breaking this moment isn’t worth it. We remain in this position for a few minutes longer until I break the silence. If I like him like I think I like him, then he deserves to know a little bit about me. Deciding to open myself up isn’t something I am used to. Other than being myself around Maci, there is no one who really knows the real Grace. The woman who is funny and fun-loving, the carefree woman I used to be died a long time ago. But sitting here in Parker’s arms I can feel my body tingling. Like a part of me, of the woman I lost, is coming back. The thought makes me smile, but also makes me cautious. If I open myself up again, I am basically allowing myself to get hurt again. There is no telling where this is headed, but I know for sure right here, right now I feel comfortable enough to give him some details of who I am, even if the tiny bit only scratches the surface.

“There was this guy I dated during high school. He was a loser and did something awful. Anyways, I’ve never heard from him again, but that doesn’t stop people from bringing him up. What happened is in the past and I want it to stay there, but my mother and Maci keep digging it up. Honestly, I am tired of hearing about it, much less talking about it, especially today, on my birthday of all days.” My voice shakes from the comprehension of the words that just left my mouth. I have never openly discussed the
incident
with anyone other than my parents, Maci, and my old counselor. Oddly, it feels good, and it feels good to do it in the safety of someone’s arms.