Hell!
If growing up in Hollywood had taught Grace one thing, it was that life didn’t hand you anything; you had to reach for what you wanted. So she did.
Ignoring her cast, she grabbed two handfuls of Lauren’s pajama top and pulled her down. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of Lauren’s widened pupils, then both of their eyes fluttered shut as their mouths met.
Grace’s body molded into Lauren’s. She explored softly, nibbling on Lauren’s bottom lip, kissing her upper lip, stroking Lauren’s tongue with her own. Her hands lost their grip on the pajama top and instead slid around to flutter over Lauren’s back and down. God, she loved how the curve of Lauren’s hips felt beneath her hands.
A part of her—the part that could still think—was surprised at the intensity of her own reaction, but for once, she shut down that analytical part and allowed herself to just feel.
Lauren’s warmth, the touch, the taste, and the scent of her filled her senses.
Then something else intruded. Dimly, she became aware of a much less pleasant smell.
Damn, the pancakes!
She whirled around and pulled the pan from the stove.
Too late. When she flipped the pancake, its bottom was coal-black. “Sorry.” She sent Lauren a sheepish glance. “Looks like I ruined breakfast or at least part of it.”
Lauren shook her head and caressed Grace’s cheek with the back of her hand. “No,” she said, sounding a bit hoarse. “Trust me. You didn’t ruin anything. Quite the opposite. From now on, this is my favorite kind of breakfast and these,” she gestured at their sleepwear, “are my favorite date outfits.”
They grinned at each other.
Grace marveled at how easy it felt to be with Lauren—at least as long as they were alone. As soon as they headed out into the real world, things would be different, though. She pushed the thought away. For now, all she wanted was to enjoy the time she had with Lauren. She’d deal with everything else later.
CHAPTER 31
“How does it feel?” Lauren asked.
A long moan escaped Grace. “Heavenly.”
Only silence answered on the other end of the line.
Grace tapped her phone that was connected to the SUV’s speakers. “Lauren? Are you still there?”
“Um, still here. You were saying…?”
“How wonderful it feels to finally get rid of the cast. You wouldn’t believe how weak my arm is, though. I’ll start physical therapy next week, and now I’m on my way to my mother’s to take advantage of her pool while she’s gone. The doctor said swimming would be good to strengthen the muscles.”
More silence from Lauren.
Is she imagining me lounging by the pool in my swimsuit?
Grace grinned. Most of the time, she preferred to pretend that no one ever fantasized about her, but the thought of Lauren thinking about her… She fanned herself with her still-weak left hand.
“If your arm is still not back to normal, isn’t it dangerous to get into a pool alone?” Lauren finally asked.
“No,” Grace said before her brain caught up with her mouth. “Oh. Yeah, now that you mention it, a closely supervised first swim might be better.”
“Exactly my thought.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know anyone willing to supervise, would you?”
“Well, as your publicist, it’s my duty to avoid any headlines about Grace Durand drowning in her mother’s pool, so…”
Grace laughed at their old joke. “So you’ll sacrifice yourself.”
“I wouldn’t call it that, but yes, I’ll be over as soon as I wrap up work.”
Which, as Grace knew, could be any time between now and midnight, even though it was Friday. Lauren’s workaholic tendencies made her worry, but with her own work schedule when she was on location, she had no right to make Lauren feel guilty. “When you come over, don’t forget to stop at your apartment first to get your swimsuit.”
“Oh?” Lauren sounded a little breathless. “You want me to join you and not just supervise?”
“Well, we wouldn’t want any headlines about Grace Durand’s publicist having to dive into the pool fully clothed to rescue her client, would we?”
Lauren laughed. “No, we certainly don’t want that. See you later, then.”
“See you later.” Grace ended the call and wondered how much of Lauren she’d be seeing. An image of water droplets running down Lauren’s smooth shoulders, trickling down her cleavage, formed in her mind.
How weird. Fantasizing about a woman—about Lauren—felt a little strange and entirely natural at the same time.
A car honked behind her, making her realize that the light in front of her had turned green.
Rolling her eyes at herself, she cleared the intersection.
Briefcase in hand, Lauren walked past Tina’s desk. “I’m leaving for the day.”
Tina looked up from her computer screen. “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, this is the second time this week that you left work on time,” Tina said, looking a little embarrassed. “I thought maybe you aren’t feeling well.”
Lauren couldn’t help staring. Her colleagues thought there was something wrong with her because she left work on time. Had her workaholic tendencies really gotten so bad? “Never been better. I just have an appointment.”
With a swimming pool and a beautiful woman.
“Okay. Just making sure.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Tina went back to the press release on her screen, and Lauren took the elevator down to the parking garage. On her way home, she found herself singing along with a love song on the radio.
Without stopping to eat or read her mail, she took a quick shower and went in search of her swimsuit. Where was that damn thing? Admittedly, it had been some time since she’d last needed it.
If push comes to shove, you could always wear your birthday suit.
The thought of being naked in the pool with an equally naked Grace made her need another shower—a cold one.
“Aha!” She finally found her swimsuit underneath a pile of socks. Triumphantly, she pulled it free and put it on. That way, she didn’t need to change when she got to Mrs. Duvenbeck’s home. She stood in front of her mirrored closet and eyed her reflection. Her breasts were downright modest by Hollywood standards and her hips a little too full. She wondered what Grace would think of her body, compared to those of her fellow actresses.
Just as she ran her hands down her thighs, testing their firmness, her cell phone rang.
Not now!
The thought that it might be Grace made her go in search of her phone anyway. On the last ring before voice mail picked up, she dove onto the bed, where she’d left her pants, and pulled the phone from her pocket.
She realized too late that her boss’s name was displayed on the small screen; she’d already accepted the call. “Hi, Marlene,” she said, hoping she wasn’t needed back at the office.
“I wanted to check in with you, but Tina said you’d already left.”
For the first time, Lauren realized what a strange profession she was in—she almost felt guilty for having a life. “I have an important appointment, so I left on time.”
“I won’t keep you. I just wanted to know how things are going with the Durand account.”
“Oh, I think Grace is pretty happy with me.” Lauren suppressed a grin at her choice of words. “Things have calmed down a little after her appearance on
Good Morning America
and the exclusive with
ET
.”
“Good,” Marlene said. “I don’t need to tell you how important it is having Ms. Durand as a client. Not just because of her generous retainer. Ten new A-listers have signed with us since we’re representing her.”
Lauren swallowed. If things between her and Grace didn’t work out, she had much more to lose than just her heart. “I know,” she said quietly. “I’m giving it my best.”
“I didn’t expect anything else from you. Come see me in my office on Monday morning. We should finally talk about that promotion.”
A few months ago, that word would have made Lauren do a victory dance around the apartment, but now she just said, “Will do” and ended the call as quickly as possible.
Damn.
She really deserved that promotion. It wasn’t as if she had gotten it by becoming involved with a client. But if her boss knew about her relationship, she would view things in a different light.
Sighing, she put on her clothes over her swimsuit and headed out.
Grace had just finished watering her mother’s plants when the doorbell rang. That couldn’t be Lauren already, could it? A glance through the peephole made her heart beat faster. She quickly pulled the door open.
Lauren stood on the doorstep, the buttons of her polo shirt casually open and her sunglasses shoved up on top of her head, keeping her tousled hair out of her eyes.
Excitement hummed through Grace. Instantly, she wanted to pull Lauren into the house and into her arms. Her immediate, almost visceral reaction to Lauren surprised her. “That was fast,” she said when she finally got her dry mouth to work.
Lauren gave her a slow grin. “I had the right motivation.”
After grasping Lauren’s arm, Grace pulled her into the house and closed the door behind her. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Lauren stepped closer. Now that Grace wasn’t wearing high heels, Lauren was several inches taller than her.
Somehow, there was a physicality about her that robbed Grace of breath. The warmth that seemed to radiate from her ratcheted up Grace’s body heat.
Lauren wrapped her arms around Grace, making her sigh. After looking into her eyes for several seconds, Lauren bent her head and kissed her. Her lips moved over Grace’s in a tender caress.
Groaning, Grace wound her fingers through Lauren’s hair. The sunglasses clattered to the floor, but neither of them broke the kiss.
This was it, Grace realized—the kind of kiss the characters in that fan fiction story had shared: slow and with a passion that made her head spin and her body pound.
Finally, they pulled back but didn’t let go of each other.
It took Grace a while to realize that Lauren wasn’t carrying a bag. “No swimsuit?”
Grinning, Lauren tugged on her polo shirt. “I’m already wearing it.”
“I still need to change into mine.”
“Want me to give you a hand?” Lauren’s hazel eyes twinkled. “After all, I don’t want to risk headlines about Grace Durand re-injuring her arm trying to get into her bikini.”
“Who says I’ll wear a bikini?”
“A woman can hope, can’t she?” Lauren murmured.
The heat in her gaze made Grace’s pulse speed up. She directed Lauren toward the pool and went to get changed. By the time she stepped outside, Lauren was waiting by the pool, looking a little uncomfortable, as if she expected Grace’s mother to return any moment.
When the glass doors clicked shut, she turned and stared.
Grace gestured at her one-piece swimsuit. “No bikini. Disappointed?”
“Never,” Lauren said. Her expression didn’t leave any doubt about her sincerity. She unbuttoned her jeans and pulled her polo shirt up over her head.
Grace had never understood what men found so sexy about women undressing for them. Now she did. She held her breath as Lauren’s efficient strip revealed a dark blue swimsuit. Her gaze took in the flare of Lauren’s hips and the toned muscles in her arms and legs.
“Sunscreen,” Lauren said and pointed at the bottle of sun lotion as if she weren’t capable of more than one-word sentences while she stared at Grace.
Knowing she was having the same effect on Lauren that Lauren had on her soothed the butterflies in Grace’s belly. She watched as Lauren spread suntan lotion over her arms and legs and finally her chest.
“You should have some,” Lauren said.
Grace wrenched her gaze away from the hypnotizing circles Lauren’s hands made over her skin. “Excuse me?”
“You should put on some sunscreen too.” Instead of handing over the bottle, Lauren approached her. She squirted a bit of lotion into her palm, warming it, and then softly rubbed it into the dry skin of Grace’s newly healed arm.
Grace’s arm started to tingle, along with the rest of her body. She stared down, watching Lauren’s fingertips glide over her skin. A shiver raced through her.
Lauren paused. A bead of perspiration trickled down the side of her face, indicating that she was feeling the growing heat between them too. “Does that hurt?”
“No.” Quite the opposite. She took the bottle from Lauren. “I think I’d better do the rest myself, or my poor arm will get much more of a workout than the doctor recommended for the first day out of the cast.”
Lauren’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
Grace couldn’t believe it either. She finished putting on lotion and then dove into the pool, letting the water cool her heated cheeks.
Kicking the bottle aside, Lauren followed her in.
They playfully splashed each other, but Grace could tell that Lauren was gentle with her and held back, mindful of her mending arm. Grace swam a few laps while Lauren drifted on her back next to her. Every time her head came up to draw breath, Grace glanced over at her, peeking at the curve of Lauren’s breasts just above the water line. God. She felt like a teenager again.
Not that I ever ogled women as a teenager…
Finally, as if by silent agreement, they stopped their laps at the deep end of the pool and treaded water next to each other.
“We should probably get out and not overtax your arm,” Lauren said. Droplets of water clung to her dark lashes.
Grace wanted to kiss them away. They were so close that she felt the currents created by Lauren’s hands and feet moving underwater. The water around them seemed to heat up. Lauren’s calf brushed hers. Grace wasn’t sure who moved first, but their mouths found each other in a passionate kiss.
Moaning, Lauren parted her lips and slid one arm around her to pull her closer.
Their breasts pressed against each other, separated by just the thin fabric of their wet swimsuits.
Grace’s nipples hardened. Need pulsed through her body. She pressed even closer.
Water surged around them.
Their legs entwined underwater, Lauren’s thigh slipping beneath hers.
Oh, God.
For a moment, Grace forgot where she was, forgot to tread water, forgot everything but the feel of Lauren.
She started to go under, but Lauren grasped the edge of the pool with one hand and pulled her even closer with the other.
Heat coiled in Grace’s belly. Not breaking the kiss, she trailed her fingertips over each inch of bare skin she could find. One of her hands brushed the side of Lauren’s breast.
Lauren gasped and lost her grip on the edge of the pool for a moment before clutching it again. “God, Grace. We need to stop.”
Grace blinked water out of her eyes and stared at her. Her dazed brain couldn’t do much more than repeat Lauren’s last word. “Stop?”
“I want you, but I don’t want our first time together to be a quickie in your mother’s pool.”