An Uncommon Sense (10 page)

But he should have held back. Let her learn to trust him before he made a move on her. And he definitely shouldn’t have mentioned her books. That was her father’s fault. Clearly, she thought people would react badly if they knew she wrote raunchy romance novels. And perhaps they would—especially her mother, from the sounds of it. He wondered what her father thought about Grace’s relationship with her mother. Maybe he’d ask him later, if the guy came through again.

The buzz from security, followed a few moments later by the scrunch of tyres on gravel, alerted him to the arrival of a car, and he walked to the window quickly enough to make Jodi laugh.

“Will you stop? I just wanted to get started on my meditation.” But he was surprised at the pleasure that flooded through him as he watched Grace get out of the car. She still wore her hair pinned up in its customary bun. But it was the only schoolmistress-looking thing about her, apart from her glasses. This week she wore a black skirt, about six inches above her knee, made of some kind of floaty material that once again the breeze delighted in flicking up. She smoothed the skirt down impatiently, casting a glance over her shoulder at the house as if checking to see if he was watching, but she wasn’t quick enough to hide the brief flash of her garters. A dark colour, possibly black, this time.

“Oh yeah,” said Ash out loud, forgetting Jodi was in the room.

Jodi started laughing. “Your face is a picture.”

“Not a word,” he scolded, walking past her into the hall. He opened the front door just as Grace reached up to press the bell, making her jump.

“Oh!” She was carrying half a dozen text books, and as she moved back one slipped from under her arm, and then the whole lot went. “Damn it.”

“Here, let me help.” He bent to help her retrieve them, glanced up as she joined him and got a perfect view down the front of her purple blouse. Not black underwear—whatever she was wearing was a dark plum colour, and there was a sinful amount of lace.
Nice
.

He cleared his throat and stood, placing a hand under her elbow to help her up. Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink, making him smile. She was so adorable. He wanted to take her inside and kiss her senseless.
 

But his new plan was to Slow Things Down, so that wasn’t going to work at all. “Come in,” he said lamely instead, stepping back to let her pass. “Weather’s a bit blowy today, isn’t it?”

She cast him a suspicious look. “Did you see my stockings again?”

He burst out laughing. “I’d forgotten how you say
exactly
what’s on your mind.” He gave her a warm smile, then, before he could think better of it, leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m glad you came back.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she admitted, slipping off her shoes and jacket and letting him catch the latter and hang it up.

“What changed your mind?”

She met his gaze, her large brown eyes wide and clear beneath her glasses. “I…” For once, she seemed lost for words. “I didn’t want to let Jodi down.” Her eyes said something different, however. There was a hint of longing in their depths, subtle as a rainbow in the rain.

She missed me
.

Just then, Jodi came into the hall. He met her gaze, surprised at the look of pleasure on her face as she saw his smile.

“Hi, Miss Fox,” Jodi said, dragging her gaze to her science teacher.

“Hi, Jodi.” Grace handed the girl her books. “Can you put these on the table for me, please?”

“Sure.” Jodi carried the books in.

Grace gave Ash a nervous smile, and he recognised the emotion behind it. She’d missed him, she wanted to see him again, but she wasn’t sure if she
ought
to want to see him again. Never mind. He could work on that.

He followed her into the living room, watching the swing of her hips as she walked. What kind of underwear was she wearing? The lace intrigued him. He could just imagine how soft her breasts would feel under his touch.

Jeez. He stopped and massaged his forehead for a second. He was skilled in meditation, for crying out loud—he should be able to train his brain not to think about her underwear for two hours.

Yeah. Like that’s going to happen.
He’d be lucky to make two minutes at this rate.

Chapter Eight

“Do you have a headache?” Grace asked, watching him try to massage his frown away.

“No, no.” Ash sighed. “I think I’ll leave you two to it.” He stood for a second with his hands on his hips, looking at the ground a few feet in front of him. “I’ve…um…got lots of…” Turning on his heel, he walked off, mumbling under his breath.

“Huh,” said Grace. “Something I said?”

“Don’t mind him,” said Jodi. She had a wry smile on her lips. “What are we doing today?”

“Movement and energy,” said Grace absently, wondering why the topic made her think of the way Ash had thrust inside her, rhythmical and slow.
Oh Lord. Focus, Grace.
It was difficult, though. She’d come to the house determined to be professional and distant, but from the moment he opened the door and made her jump, she’d felt in a tizzy, her head buzzing like a bumblebee caught in a bottle. He was wearing khaki combat trousers and a stone-coloured T-shirt that, although not skin tight, still managed to make him look like a model for the New Zealand Firefighters Calendar. If there was such a thing. She totally did not have one of those on her wall.

“Miss Fox?”

Grace shook her head, wishing she could shake the bumblebee out. “Right. Let’s get to work.” She was not going to think about him for two hours, or worry about his last words and if he was irritated she’d shown up again. He hadn’t
looked
irritated, and he
had
called her three times over the week—three calls she hadn’t had the courage to return. Now he’d seemed distracted, as if he was keen to get on with whatever he had planned for the two hours she was tutoring Jodi. But she wouldn’t be able to figure out his thoughts and emotions remotely. Until the two hours were up, she was going to have to concentrate on the job she’d gone there to do and see if she could help this young woman learn something about gravity slightly more complicated than “if you fall off your bike, your gonna hit the floor”, which had been her answer in the science exam. As well as the difference between “your” and “you’re”.

So for two hours, she concentrated. In the end, it didn’t pass too slowly, and she only managed to think about Ash every thirty seconds or so, which was slightly better than she’d anticipated. Before long, it was nearly five o’clock and the doorbell rang announcing Liv’s arrival.

“Yay!” Jodi leaped up and turned awkwardly to Grace. “I mean, thank you for helping me, Miss Fox.”

“You’re welcome.” Grace smiled, trying to ignore the fact that her heart rate had suddenly doubled and her mouth had gone dry. “Hi, Liv,” she said as Jodi ran to open the front door and Ash’s sister came in.

“Hi, Miss Fox.” Liv grinned as Grace walked out into the hall.

“Oh please, call me Grace. Ash is the only adult who calls me that.”

“It’s the glasses,” said Ash, appearing from down the hallway. “They bring out the schoolkid in me.”

Liv laughed. “Come on, Jodi. I thought we’d take the boys down the bowling alley tonight, if you fancy it.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jodi pulled on her jacket and shoes.

“We won’t be back until at least eight,” said Liv. Her gaze met Ash’s and a silent exchange followed. Liv raised an eyebrow. Ash glared. Liv bit her lip. Ash gave a subtle shake of his head.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Have a good time.” He turned her around physically and pushed her toward the door.

Liv grabbed Jodi’s arm. “Come on, pumpkin. Daddy wants to be
alone
with Miss Fox.” The two of them giggled as they headed out the door.

Ash dropped his head in defeat, hands on his hips in what Grace was beginning to recognise was a stance that reflected his feelings of helplessness. She studied him, breathless, leaning on the wall, her hands tucked under her butt so they wouldn’t reach out for him. She should get her bag and books, and go. Right now.
Go on feet, move.

After a moment, he turned his head to look at her. Her breath caught in her throat. His stormy-blue eyes were dark with lust.

“I should go,” she said weakly.

“Mm,” he said, although she didn’t think he’d heard her. His gaze had settled on her mouth. He wanted to kiss her. Part of her thought
Yay!
The other part thought
Crap
. He wasn’t cross with her and he didn’t want her to go.

“Um…”

He turned and walked over to her slowly. Grace’s eyes widened and she tried to move backward, but the wall wasn’t budging. He stood in front of her, lips pursed, his gaze running down to her stockinged feet, then back up to her face again. She’d forgotten how big he was, how broad his shoulders were. “I was supposed to meditate this afternoon,” he informed her.

“Did you have a nice time?” she asked lamely.

“No, I did not. I couldn’t do anything except wonder what underwear you have on beneath that blouse.”

“Oh.” She moistened her lips with her tongue, not missing his answering inhalation. She couldn’t believe she was going to say what she was about to say, but she wanted him so badly it hurt. “Well, you know what curiosity killed…”

His gaze met hers, and he reached out and slowly removed her glasses, dropping them onto the table by the door. He stared into her eyes for a good twenty seconds. As he did so, her breathing increased, as did his, and she saw the answering dilation of his pupils.

And then, oh, his lips were on hers and he was kissing her senseless. And even though he pressed her into the wall, and her heart pounded so hard she thought she might black out, she couldn’t have pushed him away for the world.

He cupped her head, wrapping the other arm around her waist, holding her tightly as if he were afraid she was going to fight him. But protesting was the last thing on her mind. She placed her hands on his chest, his muscles hard beneath her fingers like sculpted and baked clay, and then, desperate to touch him, to feel his skin, she slid her hands beneath his T-shirt, stroking her fingers along his tight, flat stomach and up over his ribs. She sighed, and he took advantage of her open mouth to deepen his kiss, brushing her tongue with his, making her head spin.

She tugged at his T-shirt, and he pulled back slightly so she could lift it over his head and throw it to the floor. His body was incomparable and he filled all her senses. He’d been cooking earlier in the day—she could smell the warm, comforting aroma of cookies or muffins, and the underlying bite of chocolate. He tasted of spearmint, clean and fresh. He felt divine. She wanted him—wanted his hands on her body, his mouth on her breasts—she wanted him deep inside her, wanted to watch him come. She kissed him urgently, running her hands up his chest, feeling the soft, light brown hairs, brushing his flat nipples. He twitched and growled, his lips leaving hers to kiss up her jaw to her ear.

“No fair.” He started to unbutton her blouse. “If I don’t see what you’ve got on under your clothes in five seconds, I swear I’ll explode.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” she said breathlessly, watching his hands fumble at the buttons, raising her head as he kissed her again.

He reached the last button and moved the sides of her blouse apart, pushing it slowly off her shoulders. Wordlessly, he slid the elastic of her skirt over her hips until that, too, fell onto the floor. She kicked it away, standing before him, still shy, embarrassed and yet thrilled by the admiration in his eyes.

“Wow.”

She gave a little laugh. She wore a plum-coloured stretch lace all-in-one with a matching garter belt underneath. The cups were underwired and everything was propped up and pushed out on display for him, the flimsy lace doing a rather pathetic job at containing her breasts, barely managing to cover her nipples. “Do you like what you see?” she asked boldly, tucking her hands under her butt again, knowing her breasts were about to pop out. A bit like his eyeballs.

He moved closer, pressing himself up against her, giving her a hot, exasperated smile. “What do you think?”

She moved her hips slightly against the firmness of his erection. “I think it gives me a whole new insight into John Lennon’s song ‘Norwegian Wood’
.
”

Ash laughed out loud. “You are just the perfect woman, you know that?”

“Hardly,” she murmured, but it was a nice thing to be told and her cheeks burned with pleasure.

He put his hands under her hips and lifted her, wrapping her legs around him. “Bedroom?” he murmured as she kissed him.

She lifted her head. “Um…”

The panic must have shown in her eyes, because he added, “Living room it is, then,” and walked with her into the room.

Grace sighed and kissed him again, loving the fact that he didn’t push her, didn’t question her, just accepted her little foibles and adored her for them. He walked to the plush cream leather sofa and turned and sat so she was astride him, running his hands up her lace-covered waist and ribs, sighing as she wriggled closer to him.

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him properly for a while, enjoying the slide of his hands over her and his occasional groan as she moved her hips against his. Then she left his mouth to scrape her lips along his light stubble and nibble around his ear.