Selling Grace: A Light Romance Novel (Art of Grace Book 1) (13 page)

And then Carter's lips were on mine, and I melted against him.

Damn it, I thought faintly as little fireworks went off in my head, did the man really have to be perfect at kissing along with everything else? I wanted to find at least one flaw with him, something that would make him easy to sleep with, but not so perfect that I wanted to date him and keep him around forever!

But no, this kiss was... well, quite honestly, it was amazing. His lips were warm and soft, firm against me as he guided me with his hands up against the contours of his body. I melted against him, feeling his hips, his abs, his chest press against me. I wanted him right here, even in this public parking lot. I wanted him to keep on sliding his hands over me, highlighting the curves of my body and pulling them to him, experiencing them and letting them arouse him.

He broke away after another minute, his eyes serious as they gazed back into mine. "Going to remember that tomorrow?"

"I don't think I'll be able to stop thinking about it," I answered faintly, wishing that he'd shut up and do it again.

Instead, Carter clicked the remote in his hand, and his car's lights flashed. "I should probably take you home," he said, opening the passenger side door for me.

"Okay," I answered faintly, my thoughts still all scrambled. Automatically, I climbed into the open seat that he presented to me.

Carter started up his car and headed back to my apartment building, while I sat next to him in silence and tried desperately to force my alcohol-soaked brain to come up with a way to invite the man up to my apartment.

Maybe I could tell him that I had something broken, and I needed him to come fix it, I considered. Or I could ask him if he wanted a nightcap - even though he had to drive home and pack to take a flight tomorrow. Maybe not another drink. Hell, what if I just told him, truthfully, that the first thing I was going to do as soon as I got upstairs was take off my dress, and I would be fine if he wanted to come watch? God, that sounded way too forward, but it would at least get my point across! I could always blame it on the margaritas doing the talking.

"Here we are," Carter commented as the car pulled to a stop. He threw the vehicle into park and got out, walking around to open up my door for me.

Was he being gallant, or was he expecting to come upstairs? Even though I'd just been intending to invite him to do that very thing, I suddenly froze, paralyzed with indecision.

Carter opened up my door, reached down, and helped me out of the car. Crap, I had to say something now!

"Do - do you want-" I stammered, but Carter leaned in and kissed me again, a light peck on the lips, before I could finish.

"Not tonight," he murmured to me, even as his hand slid around to give my ass a farewell squeeze. "But once I get back, we're going to have a very good night. I promise you that."

And he kissed me one last time, another full one that drew me to him and filled me with waves of red lust crashing over me to drive me crazy and make me moan with pleasure.

By the time my heart rate had slowed back down to something resembling normal, Carter was gone.

Chapter Fifteen

*

The next few days were a blur of agonizing waiting, happy daydreams and fantasizing, and overall sexual frustration. Even the impending deadline of getting the money for Barry, selling this damn sculpture, at times took a backseat to the sheer levels of hormones and desire that sometimes swept through me.

"Oh god, I'm never going to make it through the end of the week," I groaned to Portia, downing my glass of wine and looking around for another. "I keep on thinking about that kiss, every time I close my eyes! It's driving me crazy!"

Portia, meanwhile, just grinned back at me, leaning back and regarding me over the lip of her own wine glass. "It's good to see you this way, Becca," she said.

"This way? What, in physical torture because I can't get laid?"

"Happy," she answered simply, taking a small sip before putting the glass back down on the table. "Not worrying about Barry at the moment."

"Oh, I'm still worrying about him," I pointed out. "Remember, I still need to find his money somewhere, and that deadline keeps on getting closer. Now, though, I'm being distracted from my money troubles by my sexual troubles. Now, I've got two problems instead of one. So much better than before."

"Hey, don't lie to yourself," she said, pointing a finger at me. "Before, you were depressed, not just because of the money, but because you thought that you'd never find anyone to make you happy again. Now, just a few days later, you're already crushing hard for a new guy. What's that say about your future prospects?"

I just grunted as I slid off my stool and grabbed my wine glass to go get a refill, mostly because I didn't want to admit that Portia had hit the nail on the head.

"So, what about the other guy?" she asked, when I came back with a fresh glass of wine.

"Who, Onyx? What about him?"

She tossed her dark hair back over her shoulder impatiently. "You were telling me that he's super hot, too! Is he making a move, now that Carter is away?"

"You make it sound like the two of them are literally fighting over me," I said, not entirely put off by the idea. "And yeah, Onyx still stops by every now and then. His studio is nearby, and I guess he goes out for walks when he needs to find inspiration."

"Ooh. So you're inspiration, now, are you?" Portia raised her eyebrows at me. "Sounds sexy. Aren't Greek muses usually shown with bare breasts?"

"Portia!" I gasped, waving my hand at her to hush, and she just grinned. The woman didn't have an ounce of shame when she was teasing me.

Still, she wasn't wrong in pointing out that Onyx did seem to be dropping in more often as of late. Carter added me as a friend on Facebook, and I saw that, sure enough, he was posting pictures of London, having a grand old time eating fish and chips and riding around on the Tube. (I also made a furtive excursion into his old photos, and uncovered a shot of him shirtless at the beach that made me swoon hard enough to nearly fall off my chair.) Onyx hadn't exactly said anything about wanting to take me out on a date, but I did sometimes think that I caught his eyes lingering on my body.

"Clearly, I settled for Barry, if I've got both of these men hunting around," I now said to Portia, settling back in with my freshly refilled glass.

"I've been telling you, you're way better than you give yourself credit for," she answered, and then frowned. "Hold on, I don't think that sentence works."

"Works for me," I said happily. "Now, if I could just fix this stupid money thing, my life would be perfect! I could spend the rest of my days wandering back and forth from Onyx to Carter, not having a care in the world, living in happy orgasmic bliss."

"You jest, but that would be amazing," Portia sighed, her eyes momentarily losing focus. "Maybe even invite both of them over on the same night, act all surprised when they both show up, but it would be so impolite to send one of them away..."

I threw a napkin across the table at her. "Get your mind out of the gutter," I commanded.

"Hey, you were the one who spent a good half hour telling me about how great of a kisser Carter was on that date of yours. You were practically imagining him naked and on top of you, even as you talked to me!"

I started to open my mouth to protest, but she'd gotten the situation exactly correct. If Carter wasn't careful, I might just tackle him as soon as he got back, driven more out of sexual frustration than anything else.

"Here, I'll help bring you down," Portia went on after a minute, when it became clear that I was thoroughly off in daydream-land. "How's it going with the whole sale of the sculpture to pay off Barry deal? Making progress?"

I sighed, my warm fuzzy bubble deflating. "Not so much. I've called all of the whales that Preston had on his list, and even though I finally managed to get through to a couple of them, none of them really seemed interested in the sculpture. I left messages for the others, but that doesn't mean that I'll hear anything. And Barry stopped by to harass me some more, too."

"Yeah? What'd he say this time?"

"Just the same stuff, again and again," I replied. "That he really didn't want to have to file any sort of official action against me, but if I couldn't meet the payment deadline, he'd have no choice. Like it's not his fault that he's an ass."

"You should have hit him with one of those stone dicks," Portia declared. "Go on, beat him a few times with one of those. Let's see him explain those bruises!"

I grinned. "Actually, I did point out that they were quite valuable, and asked him if he'd be willing to accept fifteen thousand dollars of stone penis statue instead of ten thousand dollars in cash."

"He didn't go for it, I'm guessing."

I giggled. "His eyes practically bugged out his head. I waved one of the dicks at him, and he almost fell over as he backed up, scrambling to get away from me. At least, I know how to keep him back if he tries to make any advances towards me again."

"You should have brought one of those to the divorce proceedings, scared him off from the beginning," Portia picked up the thread from me. "Maybe that's the secret to managing jerks - just keep a few dicks around that are bigger than them! I could get one of those and bring it to my office, use it as a way to test the theory!"

We both laughed, took sips of our wine.

"So, weekend," Portia went on after a minute had passed. "Got plans? Celebrating surviving your first full week as an art gallery manager?"

I shrugged. "I think I'm just going to try to look for some odd jobs, see if I can save up my money," I answered. "I'm still kind of hoping that I can convince Barry to let me get on some sort of payment plan, even if he has to charge me interest for it. Pay him back in monthly installments instead of all at once. I really want it over and done with, but I'd take paying in chunks over having to think of something like going to my parents for help."

"Right. Stay in, save money," Portia agreed. "But really, Becca, I hope you figure this out. This is the last thing holding you back, before you can move on. You need to just find a solution, so you can really start thinking about making yourself happy again."

"You just want to see me jump into bed with another guy," I told her.

She shrugged. "So? Like I told you before, it would really help you move on, mentally speaking - and don't tell me that you weren't thinking about it with Carter."

I couldn't lie to her, so I clamped my lips shut. Portia gave me a canny look, and then went on.

"Clearly, though, my advice fell on deaf ears, at least in regards to Carter. What, you think that he's more relationship material?"

"I'm not saying anything," I answered stubbornly before locking my jaw shut again.

"And that's why you ought to go see Onyx again," she went on, as if I'd fully agreed with her. "Come on, a sexy artist like that? I bet he's absolutely amazing in bed. And I haven't even personally met him! Just go there, ask him if he needs a model, and strip down. He'll let you see his own stone dick, and you'll get the release that you so desperately need!"

"And I think that is enough wine for us," I declared, finishing off my glass and then pushing it aside so that I wouldn't be tempted to go refill it. "Time for me to get home to the only man that I really need in my life."

"Ah, vibrator?"

"Shout it louder, would you?" I gasped, almost throwing myself across the table to slap my hand over my best friend's overly loud mouth. "No, my cat! Salem!"

"See, I'd rather advertise my vibrator than the fact that I was a single woman with a cat," Portia said, not at all embarrassed to have the v-word coming out of her mouth.

I pointed a finger across the table at her. "Be appropriate, would you? I'm going to go and turn in our wine glasses before they get us into more trouble."

I managed to get home without any incident, and five minutes later I got a text from Portia confirming that she'd also made it back to her fancy apartment sans trouble. I wandered into the kitchen area, Salem purring and twining himself through my legs, and gave "the only man I needed" his wet food for dinner.

"Yeah, and I don't even get any thanks from you," I told him as he chowed down, his tail flicking back and forth as he bent over the bowl. "You don't happen to have some extra cash sitting around, do you?"

He just purred, which was probably a no.

Just as I told Portia, I spent the next two days, Saturday and Sunday, sitting around my apartment and trying to find things to do that didn't involve spending money. I organized my belongings, and even forced myself to clean various areas of the apartment that hadn't received enough attention in the past, like my bathroom. I replaced the litter in Salem's litter box, and even picked up his bowls of food and scrubbed them out, while he protested the entire time that they were missing.

"Chill, fatty - you won't starve if they're drying for an hour," I told him, but he kept on wailing piteously until I finally put them back down on the kitchen floor and refilled them - at which point, instead of eating any of the new contents, he promptly ignored them.