The Unidentified Redhead Page 11

  The sound of Jack Hamilton groaning was quite possibly the most beautiful sound in the world.

  I let my fingertips caress the length of him and then grasped him firmly. His hips bucked off the bed, as my own had done earlier. Turnabout was fair play. I was going to enjoy teasing him.

  When I took him into my mouth and he felt my hot tongue push against him, he reacted involuntarily. I stroked him quickly and then slowly, alternating my grip between maddeningly gentle and perfectly tight. He let his hands loose in my hair, gripping me when he needed an anchor.

  I wrapped my lips around the base of him and then gently surrounded him with my teeth. I pulled back, letting my teeth graze his skin with gentle pressure, releasing him with relish. I immediately took him in again, burying him in my mouth as I had done earlier, letting him fill me. His breath took on a husky quality and I knew he was getting close. I couldn't let that happen.

  I stopped, and sat back on my heels, and his eyes sprang open, meeting mine. Tilting my head as I looked at him, I grinned.

  “Grace, quit fucking with me,” he growled thickly.

  “Oh, I have only begun to fuck with you,” I whispered back. Leaning down again, I took his hands and pressed them against the sides of my breasts, pushing them together. I took him between them, squeezing him and earning another groan of approval.

  “Ah, Grace, your tits are heaven.” He moaned.

  “Mmm, does that feel good?” I asked, as I watched him from above.

  “You have no idea,” he answered roughly.

  I had some idea.

  I bent down and took him back into my mouth again. I knew the sight of me with him between my breasts was going to be more than he could handle, and when my tongue found him again, I knew he was seconds away from his release. My mouth was furious on him, pumping him in and out of me, and his groans grew steadily louder as he tried to pull away from me.

  “Grace, oh God, Grace, I'm going to…mmmm…” he stuttered, sitting up, trying to be a gentleman about this.

  I paused only for a second to say, “I know,” and with one hand pushed him back onto the bed, lowering myself to him again.

  He let his head settle into the pillows as he gripped my hair again, feeling his release begin. I felt him starting to come before he actually did and I kept my mouth tightly on him. I knew he wanted me to pull away. That sweet display of chivalry seconds before would have never worked on me; I wouldn't miss this for anything. I felt him explode in my mouth and I continued to keep pace with him as he shook. I watched from my vantage point as the most beautiful man in the world made the most beautiful face in the world.

  Watching Jack come was like nothing I had ever seen. He said my name repeatedly, loudly at first, and then quietly, almost reverently as he began to climb back down. I watched as his face, brow furrowed at first and clenched in passion, began to soften and my favorite smile crept in.

  He was luminous.

  He was angelic.

  He was mine. Whether he knew it or not, he was mine.

  I released him from my mouth, kissing him softly. I planted sweet kisses all along his belly and his chest as I crawled back up. I settled into his nook and he held me close. He continued to say my name, getting quieter with each breath he took. Leaning down, he kissed my forehead, pulling me closer to him.

  “Jesus, Grace, that was amazing,” he finally said. That voice could literally make me do anything.

  “Mmm, I'm glad you thought so,” I answered, snuggling in. We lay quietly for a few minutes, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Only our breathing and the light humming sound he would make every so often punctuated the silence.

  Then I heard something else…a snicker, and then a thump. Then another snicker.

  “Did you hear that?” he whispered.

  “Yes, unfortunately I did,” I whispered back, proactively gathering the sheets and pulling them protectively around us.

  “You might want to prepare yourself,” I warned softly, knowing we only had seconds.

  “What are you talking about?” he started to say, getting out only the first two words, when the door burst open.

  Holly and Nick danced into the room, running in circles, laughing madly. Holly looked at the two of us tangled in the sheets and opened her mouth to say something. She started giggling again as she tried desperately to get it out. Jack stared at the show taking place in front of us and looked at me for help.

  “Wait for it,” I quietly instructed. Holly took a deep breath, and as Nick sank to his knees in hysterics, she finally said, “The British are coming! The British are coming!”

  She fell on the bed, laughing like a loon, and Jack looked at me again with raised eyebrows.

  “I am so sorry,” I mouthed to him, pulling myself up into a sitting position, which he mimicked. He graciously pulled the sheets up a little higher to cover me more, and after a second thought, pulled his own up higher as well.

  We let the two fools laugh until they calmed down, and then I spoke.

  “Are you done now?”

  “That depends. Are you done?” she asked, starting to laugh again. Nick was now pulling himself off the floor, collapsing on the bed as well.

  “Holly, the British already came,” Jack said, still shaking his head at the crazy that was currently on display.

  The two of them looked at each other and broke into a fresh round of laughter.

  “Now, there are too many on this bed. If you're wearing pants, you have to leave, now,” I announced, pushing Nick with my covered toe. Jack's mouth was turning up at the corners and he looked as though he was suppressing his own laughter.

  “Don't encourage them, they'll never leave,” I scolded. “And Holly, Jack and you work together! I am pretty sure this is crossing some kind of line into a hostile working environment.”

  “Do you feel hostile towards me, Jack?” she asked, turning to him.

  “No, although, if you had come in earlier, I wouldn't have felt too kindly towards you,” he answered, taking my hand and kissing the back of it. I smiled at him. This was insane, but we were good.

  “Awww,” Nick and Holly both said at the same time. They looked as though they were going to start getting comfortable and I was not having it.

  “It smells like sex in here,” Nick whispered to Holly, of course loud enough for us to hear. I began to blush while Jack began to chortle.

  “OK, that's it. Out!” I shouted, gathering the covers and starting to get up.

  “No, no, we'll leave. I don't want to see any more than I need to,” Holly said, finally pushing herself off the bed.

  “Speak for yourself, sister. I haven't seen enough,” Nick muttered, also dragging himself off the bed.

  “Next time, we lock them out,” Jack said, pulling me back closer to him as they made their way to the door.

  “She's got sex hair,” I heard Nick say, as they walked out.

  “Well dur. Didn't you hear all the screaming?” she giggled back. “Night, kids,” she stated, closing the door behind her. I grabbed a sheet as I jumped out of bed immediately, crossing to the door and locking it quickly.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, as I stood by the door for a few seconds. I held up my hand to him, motioning for him to be quiet. Sure enough, not 90 seconds had gone by when I saw the knob begin to turn.

  “Dammit, they locked it,” I heard Holly whisper.

  “I didn't think she would take it so hard,” Nick whispered back. I looked back at Jack, still in bed.

  “That's what he said!” we both yelled, and we heard them both run back downstairs, one of them tripping and hitting the floor with a loud smack. We both laughed.

  “Sorry about that,” I said, leaning back against the door, wrapping my sheet more tightly around me.

  “No problem. Now get that sweet ass back into this bed before I come over there and get you,” he answered. I stared at him, his lean torso peeking out over the sheets that had settled low around his hips. He was leaning ba
ck against the headboard, my headboard, and he had never looked sexier. He gazed at me with a now familiar gleam in his eye.

  “Already? Don't you need a few minutes?” I asked. He pulled the sheets a little lower. Nope, I guess not.

  “No ma'am. I am good to go,” he answered, raising his hand and curling his finger back and forth in a come-hither gesture.

  Suddenly, I loved the fact that he was only twenty-four.

  Yeah, I just bet you do…

  The_Unidentified_Redhead

  Chapter Thirteen

  That night went down (pun intended and acknowledged) in history, forever known as, Hamilton: 5 / Sheridan: Lost Track After 17. It was probably the best night I ever spent in a bed with a man.

  And on the floor with a man.

  And up against the door with a man.

  And, God, watch over and protect us, on the floor of the closet with a man.

  As the sun crept into the sky, we were laying next to each other, totally spent. It had been like the Oral Olympics. At one point, poor Holly had actually come to the door, begging us to let her get some sleep. I couldn't respond, being otherwise engaged in the throes of another intense orgasm, so Jack removed his mouth long enough to tell her to go away, returning to me quickly. Such chivalry.

  We were facing each other on our sides and he had his arm under my head, propping me up. My leg was thrown over his hip, my arm wrapped around his waist, trailing my fingers up and down his back. We hadn't spoken for a while, both of us too tired to say a word. He was pressing his lips against my face, my temples, my eyelids, my lips. He was humming softly, a tune I didn't recognize. I let out a groan and stretched my arms over my head, arching my back, listening as my muscles let me know they were overworked. My breasts were dangerously close to his face and he couldn't resist placing a soft kiss on my left nipple—which responded in turn. Then his hand found my right nipple. I moaned softly. I had to stop this. I smacked his hand away and rolled to the other side of the bed, my back to him.

  “We have to stop, this is insane. I literally cannot handle anymore. I think I've lost brain function. I can actually feel myself becoming stupid,” I complained, digging under the covers and burying my face into the pillows. He steamrolled across the bed into me, sliding his hands beneath the covers and finding my hips. He molded his body into mine, pressing his chest into my back.

  “Not possible. Let's test it. What's two times two?”

  “Orange?” I giggled tiredly.

  “Hmm, this is worse than I thought…let's try another. What's my name?”

  “George?” I puzzled.

  “George? Bloody George? Grace, I'm shocked,” he argued, pressing harder into me as I laughed. I could tell, and feel, where this was going.

  “George, is it? Behave. There will be no more of that. My oonie can't handle any more,” I protested on behalf of her, who of course was on a mission of her own. My body responded to him even when my brain was begging for rest.

  “Settle, Sheridan. I am merely doing what all women seem to want. Spooning, is it?” He chuckled lowly in my ear, raising the hairs on the back of my neck with his closeness.

  “Well, then that's fine. Quite nice, really,” I answered, giving a great yawn. “It's now sleepy time, George, and then when we wake up, we will eat,” I finished, already starting to drift off.

  “And then…?”

  “Then we'll see.”

  He was quiet for a moment and I thought he was finally asleep, when he laughed and said, “George and Gracie. It's perfect.”

  “Shut it, George.”

  “Right then, excellent,” he said, kissing me sweetly on the cheek, and with a final snuggle of that fine-ass body against mine, we fell asleep.

  ***

  11:27 a.m.

  When I woke up, I was still exactly where I'd fallen asleep, with Jack snuggled persistently, even in sleep, against me. I felt his strong arms around me, hands surrounding my breasts, and I knew that I never wanted to leave this exact spot. Nevertheless, nature called.

  I rolled over gently, trying not to wake him. He stirred in his sleep and I watched him drift away again, marveling at the way the light from the window danced across his face, showing the different shades of blonde and strawberry in his stubbly beard. I dusted my fingertips across his lips, and in his sleep, he kissed them. Not wanting to wake him further, I wrapped myself in the sheet that was on the floor and slipped from the bed, making my way to the bathroom. I nearly groaned as my legs protested. I could barely carry my own weight. I was sore, and frankly, I had every right to be.

  I avoided my reflection, taking care of business first, and then brushed my teeth. I splashed water on my face and finally looked.

  It was terrifying.

  My hair was a nightmare and there was mascara under my eyes like a raccoon. My lips were incredibly swollen and puffy and the area around my mouth bore the battle scars of his scruff.

  “Ridden hard and put away wet,” was the phrase that sprang to mind.

  Lowering the sheet, I examined myself further, each landmark bringing back a different memory of the night before. I saw nibbles on my breast where he had bit down a little too hard and the redness below my nipples, also from his scruffy stubble.

  Looking lower, there was my Hamilton Brand, the tiny, but quite deliberate, bite on the inside of my thigh. Seeing this brought back a wave that settled into the pit of my stomach. It had truly been unreal.

  There had been none of the awkwardness that sometimes, usually, accompanied the first romp with someone new. Let's face it, real life was not like a romance novel. Guys usually needed at least a little guidance on what felt good, at least the first few times.

  Not our Mr. Hamilton.

  He had known exactly what I needed and when I needed it. It was as if he was put on this earth for the sole purpose of giving me pleasure. Who am I to argue with intelligent design? Or the Big Bang. Speaking of bang…

  We never actually had sex. And that was, kind of, well, nice. I loved that I still had so much to look forward to with him; so much we had yet to learn about each other. And if last night was any indication, oh hell.

  My tummy growled. I needed sustenance.

  I attempted to brush out the sex hair on the back of my head, finally giving up and sweeping the whole mess into two pigtails. I washed my face again, removing the traces of mascara and was debating on whether to shower now or after breakfast when I finally noticed the hickey.

  A mother loving hickey! I was thirty-three for Christ's sake!

  Thirty-three and in pigtails…

  Shut it.

  There was a hickey on the side of my neck the size of a quarter. I looked like I had argued with a Hoover and the Hoover won. Jesus. This is what you got for messing around with a twenty-four-year-old.

  I opened the door quickly, preparing to confront Jack about this behavior, and explain to him that a grown woman simply cannot go around with hickeys on her neck, when I saw him in my bed. In my bed.

  I softened when I noticed that he was sound asleep again, the sheets pulled low on his torso, arms up behind his head, mouth slightly open.

  Are they shooting an Abercrombie ad in your bedroom today?

  He was so pretty.

  I quickly scooped up his shirt from last night, which smelled divine, and buttoned it up. I grabbed a pair of panties from the dresser and quietly stepped out into the hall. I wanted to let him sleep a little longer and I needed coffee.

  Once in the hall, I bent down to put on my panties when I heard Holly say from behind me, “That's a view I never need to see again.”

  I quickly pulled them on home and turned to face her with a sheepish grin. “Sorry,” I said with a wink, letting her know I was not sorry at all.

  She pointed at the stairs. “Kitchen, two minutes. Coffee's made. I want the details that I didn't actually already hear myself.”

  You are in trouble.

  ***

  I sat in the kitchen with my best friend
, with the new “It Boy” asleep in the room above me, and tried to explain the grand events that had taken place last night in the greater L.A. area.

  Holly listened as I recounted some of the sweeter moments, holding up her hand when I delved too deeply into details. She reminded me that she had heard the bulk of what had taken place and I apologized repeatedly. She said not to worry, she and Nick had made popcorn and perched at the top of the stairs most of the night, listening.

  I sat in one of her comfortable armchairs in the breakfast nook, with my legs underneath me, drowning in Jack's shirt and in his scent. I was nibbling at a piece of toast, nursing a cup of coffee, when I heard stirring from above me. Holly heard him as well, and as his feet slapped on the stairs, she made herself scarce.

  “Grace, I do believe you are blushing.” She smiled at me, grabbing her keys and leaving for the market through the back door.

  I sat up, then leaned back again, and then arranged myself in what felt like a natural pose. As I continued to struggle to find a cute sitting position, I heard, “Sheridan, do you have to pee?”

  “Huh, what?” I stammered, surprised to find he was already in the kitchen and looking at me strangely. He was dressed in his jeans from last night, barefoot and bare-chested. His jeans were hanging low and he looked like disheveled sex.

  “Why are you wiggling about so?” he inquired, opening cupboards, looking for something. He picked up the coffee pot and gestured to my mug.

  “Forget it,” I answered, flustered. I got up to get him a mug and I found that I was nervous all of a sudden.

  Maybe this was it. This was one night stand time. This was when the awkward conversation would start, the promises to get together that would never take place. This was when the tension would begin. Dammit. I cared too much already. As I reached up to grab the mug, I felt his hand on my behind.

  “Hurry up with that coffee, you little screamer, and then you can fix your man a proper breakfast,” he said seriously, giving my ass a smack and then pressing his lips to my neck.