Vegas Miracle (18 page)

"
Mon Dieu
. You know, I thought I’d heard it all," he spat out between clenched teeth, using a forearm to hold Ryan in place.  Henri was shorter by a good five inches, but he was stronger and Ryan stayed still.   "I thought no more extreme bullshit could come from your mouth.   I mean you have it all here.  Her, me, us…Christ, man! What the hell are you turning into?"

Ryan broke free then and just walked away without another word or backward glance at either of them.  Grace looked up once the room came back into focus in time to see him stride away, phone to his ear, Henri in the foreground, arms bunched and ready to strike.  She put her head down on her arms and pressed a hand to her chest where a hole had just opened up, waiting to fill with tears.

****

Grace stared at her computer screen, unable to comprehend the preceding twenty-four hours but coming to terms with the fact her marriage was well and truly over.   Little pings kept reminding her she had messages waiting in the various writer’s chat rooms she frequented but more and more these questions were along the lines of  "how did you do it?" and for that she had no answer. Not anymore.  The wedding photo that graced her computer desktop screen mocked her.  Ryan, so tall, handsome, all smiles as he had eyes for nothing but her in a moment the photographer caught them off guard in between all the posed stuff.  He had a hand on her cheek and her hand covered his. She remembered the moment vividly.

Snapping the computer shut to cut off the surge of memories threatening to overtake her, Grace jumped off the bed and changed into workout clothes, determined to do something, anything, to get her mind off what happened this morning.   A sudden cramp deep in her gut, it migrated from her side it seemed, made her double over but it passed quickly as she rode the elevator down to the spa floor.  She sighed and climbed up on the cross trainer, set her ipod to shuffle and tried to shut out the world for the next hour.

Later, in the huge shower, Grace sat alone and let the water beat down on her shoulders.  When the shower door opened, she stood and let Henri take her in his arms.  His slick torso felt so perfect against hers, the kiss immediate and sweet.  His hands cupped her ass and she wrapped one leg around his torso, angling for a connection.   He thrust inside her, making her gasp and grip his neck at the intensity.   Thrusting into her, Henri never took his lips from hers as he maneuvered her back against a slight ledge in the ceramic tiled corner of the massive shower.  She propped herself there, letting him pull all the way out and then waited as he reentered her, keeping just the thick head of his cock at her lower lips as Henri stared into her eyes.

"Grace, I…" she cut him off by moving forward.  She had to have him inside her.  She was going to scream without some sort of connection.  Putting two fingers over his lips, Grace contracted her pussy around him making him groan with pleasure.  Using her hips she moved back and forth, looking down at the beautiful sight of his hard shaft sliding in and out of her.  Finally, when she couldn’t bear it another minute, Grace clung to his neck, wrapped her entire body around Henri’s dark one, and pressed her clit against his pubic bone, the sensation of his girth filling her, spreading her, making her cry out in pleasure and sheer emotional agony.

Henri gripped her hips and shoved her harder up against the cold ceramic using one hand to prop beside her head as the water pounded his back, making little showers on either side of him that hit her legs.  His rhythm was unmistakable, his breathing quick.

"God, Grace, you’re gonna make me come," he bent his dark head down, biting his lip.

"Please," Grace whispered.  "Please kiss me, Henri.  Please."

He looked up, his dark eyes glistening and covered her lips with his just as he jerked and arched into her, filling her while her pussy pulsed and milked him, pulling the essence of him deep inside her.  They stayed connected, forehead to forehead, Henri’s hand holding her neck, Grace’s hands resting on his hips.   When she let a sob loose, unable to hold it back any longer, Henri pulled her close again.

"It'll be okay," he soothed, licking at the tears running down her face.    "Let’s get out of here."

He pulled her out of the shower and toweled her off before reaching into the closet to pull out a slinky dress and pair of impossibly high heels.  Grace shook her head, but Henri shoved her in front of the mirror, pointed at the makeup and merely walked out, naked, to find his own club clothes.

"Seriously, I don’t feel like it."

"Seriously, I don’t care. You need it."

"You're very bossy. Anyone ever tell you that?"

He grabbed her from behind and bit her earlobe making her body shiver.  Dressed in deep indigo denim and a soft cream shirt with intricate, embroidered patterns that wrapped around the front and back like a tattoo, dark brown hair flowing over his shoulders, he was positively edible.  Grace sighed, pulled her own long, messy hair up into a casual bun before sticking Ryan’s latest earring gift into her lobes.  She stared at herself a moment.  Color high, breasts highlighted by the low cut black dress, strong at the moment.  She ran a hand over her abdomen, imagined she sensed a slight bump there.  Henri stood behind her and smiled.

"You are truly beautiful and I'm sure I'll be fighting off all the men in the club tonight," he put his hand on hers.  The heat from their skin seemed to burn a mark into her stomach underneath the silk dress.

"But you're all mine."  A twinge of now familiar pain made her wince and Henri frown. "What is it?" he turned her around.  

Grace shook her head. "Nothing, I don’t know. It’s weird.  Just my body adjusting to whatever I guess," she bit her lip, the irony of finally carrying Ryan’s child and his utter rejection of her earlier stealing over her like an evil fog.

Henri gathered her up and kissed her firmly on the lips.

"For all intent and purposes that's my baby in there.  So let’s forget about him, shall we?  For tonight?" His flippant tone was betrayed as his voice broke at the end.

Grace smiled and put her head on his shoulder. "Yeah, he’s an asshole and we’re both devastated he left.  What does that make us, hmm?"

Henri laughed. "Sorry excuses, especially if we let this night get by without gracing it with our gorgeous presences, right?  Your amazing dinner, customized by your very own celebrity chef, awaits you at the very best table in the house.  If you let me I’ll feed it to you with my fingers."  He brushed a fingertip along her lips.  Grace reached out and bit it making him wince in mock pain.

"I can feed myself but it had better include brontosaurus Flintstone burgers ‘cause I’m so hungry I could eat the whole damned dinosaur."

Henri put an arm over her shoulder as they leaned back against the mirrored wall of the elevator.  "I love a woman with an appetite," he smiled before slanting his firm lips over hers as the elevator sped them downward.

Grace grinned her way through dinner as Henri was courted by every well-heeled patron in the place.  Each time one would walk away he had some snarky comment, the last one about the "pompous boy-man so full of shit it leaked out his ears" when referring to one of the many internet moguls he entertained.

"Wait, wasn’t that the Facebook guy?"  Grace craned her neck trying to glimpse him again.

"Yeah, little fucker thought I’d comp his five hundred dollar tab if he bitched about the duck appetizer.  Pfft."  Henri raised his glass of wine to her as she sipped at her soda water.  The rich food he’d prepared was amazing for certain.  But her stomach wouldn’t settle so she picked at it, mad at herself for being such a fragile Victorian.

Henri didn’t comment on her sudden lack of appetite.  Without a word he reached over and plucked the rare steak strips crusted with a garlic and peppercorn mixture in two fingers and held it to her lips.  The smell nearly knocked her off her chair with such a sudden voracious need for the red meat Grace thought she could've eaten an entire raw steak at that exact moment.  She took the morsel from him, letting her lips graze his fingers, sucking the bloody meat dry before chewing and swallowing.  Henri’s smile was lazy as he fed her three more bites before Grace realized something like twenty pairs of eyes were locked on them.  She ducked her head and patted her lips with the soft, linen napkin.  Henri glanced at the table nearest them.

"Little lady needs her red meat," he shrugged.  "You know, eating for two and all."  The women around them exhaled in unison.  Grace rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at the handsome young man across from her.  He grinned and downed his wine.

Later, as they danced among the beautiful people in the exclusive rooftop nightclub, Grace let her hands slide down Henri’s back to his ass, reveling in a sensation of drunkenness stronger than anything she’d experienced from mere alcohol.  She could see how Ryan had been taken with him.  Henri was so fun, so terminally positive about everything, he was an amazing foil for the man she’d married and missed right now like an amputated limb.

Henri grinned and spun her around as the music pounded and pulsed around them as the teeming, well-dressed crowd moved as one on the floor and the expensive, celebrity DJ spun the hours away.   By three a.m. Grace’s feet ached and her head pounded.  In spite of the small clot of female groupies who kept trying to buy him drinks, Henri paid strict attention to her, making sure she had water, letting her dance as much as she wanted, his smooth body like liquid on the dance floor, sensuous and attention grabbing, if the gaggle of girls surrounding their VIP table was any indication.

Finally she stood and stretched.  Henri took the clue and guided her out, waving at a few of the famous folks still on the dance floor or draped over the uncomfortable modern furniture.  He held out a hand for her shoes.   She slipped them off and sighed as her feet hit the cool marble but her head spun at the noise and clamor of the still-busy casino.  Taking deep gulps of hyper-oxygenated air helped.  Henri stopped at one point to let her catch another breath.

"Jesus, Grace, are you really okay?  Maybe we should call a doctor?"

"No, no, I’m just shattered.  Emotionally, physically, all of it.  A long night’s sleep, if I can manage it. That will put me right."   Grace shuddered as she shoved thoughts of Ryan from her brain, wondering where he was, if he missed her yet, if he was sorry.  In spite of her physical exhaustion, her mind was running a million miles a minute.  She doubted sleep would come easily.

Back in the suite, Henri pulled his shirt and jeans off and fell face first onto the bed mumbling Ryan’s name.  Grace washed her makeup off and leaned on the granite counter, staring into her own bloodshot eyes.

"Now what?" she demanded.  "You told him to make a choice.  He made it.  So, now you gotta deal with it."  She shrugged then doubled over in agony as the first wave of pain sliced into her.  She gasped, tried to get her breath, attempted to call out to Henri but couldn’t manage a sound.  The pain released her as quickly as it grabbed hold and Grace slid to the bathroom floor, knowing something was seriously wrong but feeling way too blown to care.  Closing her eyes, she let the day’s worth of life changing emotion wash over her, closing her mind against the blackness that enveloped her at the thought of losing Ryan.

Within what felt like minutes, the pain vise clamped around her middle again.  Grace was cold, shivering and sobbing, aware of a growing slickness between her thighs.    Dragging herself over to the toilet, she let the small amount of dinner she managed to eat reappear, gagging and coughing her way through several minutes of dry heaves before her stomach clenched again and she stared at what used to be a stark white rug where she’d just been sitting.  It looked like someone committed murder on it. It faded, as Grace’s eyes slid shut.

"Ryan…." Her voice was hoarse.   "Henri….help."  When the cramp sliced through her one last time, she collapsed in a heap, her head striking the edge of the shower step.   Grace's vision went black from the edges then all was quiet.

Chapter Sixteen

Ryan chewed the ice from his third bourbon as he stared out the window of the semi private jet he’d rented in Los Angeles.   The alcohol had done nothing to help loosen the tight band around his chest.  It had clamped down tight at the sight of Grace standing with Henri, her words slicing through him like a machete.   He closed his eyes as the plane jostled in the air and then before he knew it, an attractive flight attendant stood at his elbow again.

"Another one, Mister Sullivan?"  Her tight skirt left little the imagination and Ryan stared at her ass blearily.  Tall, blonde, whip thin, he’d bet his left nut she’d be a tiger in the sack.  There was a time in his life when he would've pulled her in to the back room where the seats were more like couches, yanked that excuse for a skirt up and fucked her silly.  He sighed.

He read the email from his brother once more.  Sean was on his third wife and was about to make her the next ex-Mrs. Sullivan.   A successful tax attorney in D.C., Sean kept a string of girlfriends that always caused the current Mrs. Sullivan to seek solace in the deep recesses of Sean’s bank account before bolting with whatever kids they’d spawned.  The guy had something like seven or eight of them at last count.  Ryan shook his head.  Patently miserable his brother was.  Never satisfied with one woman, a few kids, six figures of salary, Sean sought more in everything he did.  But Ryan knew it was killing him.

Unable to face defeat by admitting anything in an email, Ryan shut the computer.  He leaned his head against the window, taking in the view of purple clouds tinted by the sunrise he was chasing east.  Eyes burning with fatigue, he let images of Grace invade again, her green eyes hurt and shadowed, her frame noticeably thinner in his arms.

Henri was right. He was a class-A asshole, wholly undeserving of either of them.  The woman was stubborn personified.  But he’d managed to smooth out those edges with his stoic attitude, turning her into a shadow of her former self, the one he’d fallen in love with.  Then Henri exploded into his life, a vibrant, colorful swath of humanity bringing with him more laughter, sensuality and pure pleasure than Ryan ever dreamed possible.  Getting past his initial discomfort of being physically attracted to another man hadn’t been difficult.  Henri was so perfectly comfortable in his own skin they even talked about the women they had loved.