Текст книги "The Unidentified Redhead"

Автор книги: Alice Clayton

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

We kissed constantly. We kissed for hours. Whether we were at the table, in the shower (which was now always a synchronized event), in the hallway, on the couch, we kissed. Slow and sweet, furious and frenetic, wanting and needing, we kissed.

We touched. We were unable to keep our hands off each other. Whether it was hands being held across the hot tub or his hand on my thigh while we were driving, we were in contact, always. He would sweetly keep his hand in the small of my back when we were walking anywhere. I would curl my legs around him when we were watching a movie, and he would nudge at my hand like a cat until I scratched his head.

And we touched. There was virtually no part of his body that I had left unexplored, and the same for me. We were in an almost constant state of arousal. He kept my Hamilton Brand fresh each day, new nibbles if it was fading at all. A look from him made my pulse beat faster and we became so good at meeting each other's needs that it almost was inconsequential that we had yet to really have…sex.

I needed it. And I knew he needed it. It was only a matter of time. But we both seemed to know that we wanted to wait for it to be…(Tonight, on a very special episode of Grace and Jack)…special. I wanted it to be special. Because somewhere, in all of this heightened, super sped up, crazy world of ours, we were moving beyond whatever this started out to be. And I found myself falling completely and totally in love with him. It almost hurt it was so good.

This was all kinds of fucked up.

***

Late one night, on the fourth day of Grace and Jack Lockdown, we were lying in my bed, watching Say Anything. We were watching the part where Lloyd plays the song to her through the window. I sighed deeply, feeling Jack's fingers as they gently worked at a knot in my hair.

"Oh, jeez, not you, too." He laughed.

"What? Not me what?" I asked, tapping on his knee.

"You…all girls. You all love that scene. You all want the boy with the radio outside the window," he teased, planting a kiss on my head as he finally worked the knot through.

"That's not true. I mean, I love that scene, it's iconic. And I love that song…my God, I love that song. But I don't need the Grand Gesture."

"The Grand Gesture?"

"Yeah, you know, he runs through the train station to bring her the flowers before she leaves. He drops down on one knee in front of a room full of her friends to propose and try to win her back. He says he loves her in front of a football stadium because he'd never had the guts to say it when it was just them. I don't want that. I don't want all that schmaltz. It's the little things, the daily choices. That's the love." I picked at a loose thread on the blanket. It was the closest I had come to telling him how I really felt. "I tell you what, if someone ever played a Peter Gabriel song outside my window, I do believe I would lock that very window," I finished, turning around to look at him.

"Hmm, you are curious, Grace Sheridan. Just when I think I have you sorted out…"

"Ah, you'll never sort this out. It's a mess in here. Stay clear, Hamilton, stay clear." I sighed, rolling back against him.

"So, no schmaltz, huh?" he asked.

"Well, a little schmaltz is fine; every girl needs a little schmaltz. I do have a small romantic bone in my body."

"Heh heh, you said bone," he deadpanned.

"Oh, man…" I laughed back, snuggling back down to him again and turning back to the movie.

We were quiet for a moment, watching, when he said, "Grace, do you mind if we turn this off?"

"Fuck no. I was just waiting for you!" I cried, pouncing on him. He laughed his surprise into my mouth, but then quickly turned on that Hamilton sex that I needed so badly.

We were already ready for bed, so he was wearing only his underwear campaign worthy boxer-briefs that still made me shake like a schoolgirl whenever I saw him walking across the room in them.

He'd started to unbutton my shirt when I pushed him back in the bed. I slowly swung a leg over him and straddled him. I had barely brushed him when his hands came up rough on my hips.

"Ah ah ah, love, slowly now," I teased, as I began to unbutton my shirt for him. I settled lower down on his lap, feeling his hardness through his thin boxers. This time I had gone commando.

I hissed at the feeling of him pressing against my skin, and I relished the idea of how he would feel when he was inside me. I rocked my hips against him slowly, purposefully, and watched as his face changed.

Slipping the last button through, I parted my shirt for him. I was naked and his eyes drank me in. His hands left my hips to come up and around my breasts. I moaned into his touch as he gently rolled my nipples between his talented fingers. He tugged at me and I cried out. His eyes were wild as he watched me above him and I rocked harder against him, feeling the indescribable friction that our bodies were creating.

"Fuck, Grace. That feels amazing," he groaned, his eyes becoming even wilder, his face almost animalistic.

I pushed him in the way that I knew only I could push him. I lowered my body onto his, pressing myself against him. I looked him in the eye and said, "What would feel amazing is that tongue of yours. All. Over. Me." I punctuated each word with a hard thrust, slamming my hips into his Rock. Hard. Mr. Hamilton.

His eyes narrowed and he unleashed a low growl from deep in his throat.

He lifted me off his lap with one swift movement and I found myself with my knees on either side of his face. He grabbed at my hips, pulling me firmly down to his mouth. His tongue snaked out and he licked me. Hard. I sucked a breath in sharply, my hips bucking frantically as he fought to hold me still.

"No," he warned, his eyes hard as he stared up at me, green blazing.

He licked me again. Harder.

I rocked my hips, desperate for the friction, and he growled again. He pulled me down once more, roughly, and began lapping at me, quickly, violently. His mouth closed around me, sucking greedily at me.

I was all kinds of wet.

I came fast and hard, in his mouth, on his tongue. Before I could even recover, his teeth…oh, my God, his teeth, teased at me. He took me into his mouth again and with his lips pressed firmly around me, his teeth nipping, and his tongue darting over me, the sensations were unlike anything I had ever felt before.

Then he moaned.

He moaned and he groaned and the vibrations rang through me. I screamed his name repeatedly as I rocked my hips back and forth. His hands dug into my hips, bruising my skin, keeping me in place, not letting me go. My screams became wordless as the series of orgasms ravaged through me, making me shake violently. He was groaning under me, his tone guttural and his face furious as he watched me come down.

He was not done with me.

He flipped me over, nudging my knees apart almost carelessly. His eyes burned into me as he dragged his fingertips from my mouth, down the center of my body, between my breasts and below. He teased at me for a moment, watching my face as I became more and more frustrated with his swirling fingers.

Just before I began to pull my own hair out, he plunged two fingers deep inside of me. My back arched off the bed, hips wild at his touch. This is what I needed. I needed him from the inside. Once again, he found that spot, his J-Spot, and he stroked me intently, while his other hand pressed down. He brought his face to mine and kissed me, sucking my lower lip into his mouth.

The push and the pull, the soft and the hard, the sweet and the salt of it all was too much and I exploded again, screaming his name once more and making him smile.

I opened my eyes and saw him kneeling over me. I scrambled up, sitting up on my knees and yanked his boxers down quickly. My head was still spinning from the intense orgasms this man had just given me, but I couldn't focus on anything other than the sight of him. Huge, hard, swollen and perfect.

Placing one hand on him and the other on me, I watched his face as I addressed us both. I wanted to come with him.

His eyes traveled down to my hand on his length and then to my other hand that was feverishly working my own sex. I switched hands, my wetness coating him, making him moan as I worked him. I could feel myself getting closer again and I slowed, wanting to wait for him.

"Come with me, Jack," I panted, almost crying with the torture of watching his perfect face as he raced towards his own orgasm. Both of his hands shot out to the back of my neck, lacing his fingers behind me. I cocked my head to one side, leaning on his arm, kissing his skin wherever my lips could reach him.

He closed his eyes, sighed my name, and came…with me.

Beautiful.

Minutes later, we were wrapped as closely as we could be, arms and legs entwined, skin on skin. I was running my nails through his hair while he slipped towards sleep. I kissed him softly on each eyelid, the tip of his nose, and finally his mouth.

I loved him.

Simply.

***

In the morning when I woke, he was gone. On his pillow where his gorgeous head usually lay, was a single piece of paper.

Grace, I have looping today. I should be home by 3:00. Out to dinner?

Last night was…I have no words. Jack

There was a little arrow at the bottom, indicating I should turn it over.

There was one more line:

I'm leaving you with just a little schmaltz: schmaltz

I laughed through my tears.

Chapter Eighteen

That morning I spent putzing around. Jack was going to be looping, and I took the opportunity to get caught up on some of the stuff that I had let fall behind while we were in the cocoon.

I got caught up on the freelance project I was finishing. I could work on some smaller projects from New York, but with the salary I would be making, I could essentially stop freelancing.

I was going to be able to support myself as a working actor for the first time in my life, and I almost had to pinch myself to believe it.

I also started packing, deciding what I would send ahead to New York and what I would bring to my new house. Shit. There was still so much I had left to do and hardly any time to do it. I could feel myself beginning to panic a little.

I needed to drop the voiceover class I had just signed up for. I needed to switch my Martha Stewart subscription to New York. Crap, I didn't even know where I was living yet.

I needed to go shopping. I was out of deodorant and I needed some string cheese. And I had promised the Brit I would pick up some mother-flippin Chex Mix.

I needed…I needed…

Settle Grace…

I needed to do laundry. I grabbed the hamper and sat on the floor, making piles around me while I took some deep cleansing breaths. As I was sorting, I noticed that Jack had snuck some t-shirts into the hamper. Now I was doing his laundry? I smiled to myself, thinking of him silently throwing these shirts into my hamper, probably smirking as he did it, knowing that I would call him out on it later. He was so cute when he was smirking. I pressed each of the shirts to my face in turn, inhaling his sweet scent.

I looked around my room, where we had spent so much time over the last few days.

His guitar. An errant Melba toast. His jeans, thrown across the back of my chair. A Felicity DVD; he really was sweet to indulge my Ben Covington fetish. His stupid ball cap which, to his credit, he had not worn in my presence.

I picked up the ball cap. I stared at it, thinking of how cute he was when I took it off his head and messed up his big curls, smiling the entire time.

Why was the ball cap wet?

I was crying. Big, giant, elephant tears were pouring down my face foolishly, relentlessly. I was over the moon happy to be moving to New York, but I was so sad to leave him that it was messing with my head…bad. How was it possible that I was in so deep already?

The phone broke me out of my sad-sackery. It was Holly.

"Hey, asshead," I said, sniffing up the last of my tears.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, why?"

"You've got that donkey voice, that's why."

"Donkey voice?"

"Yeah, when you've been crying, you sound like Eeyore."

I laughed aloud; I loved her so.

"Come on, meet me for coffee," she said.

"Don't you have to work, Holly?"

"Eh, all the Scientologists are on vacation. It's been a slow week."

***

She watched me pull into the Starbucks lot, waving at me while I looked for a spot. While I was putting the top up, I saw two guys check me out and I smiled. I was still not used to attractive men checking me out. Once a fat girl, always a fat girl in your head. Although, I knew I was glowing lately. Must have been the round the clock orgasms I'd been receiving. They always did wonders for a girl's complexion.

I walked up to the table where Holly was sitting outside, and smiled when I saw she had already ordered for me.

"Hey, dillweed, nice of you to order for me," I said, giving her a kiss on the cheek and sinking into the chair across from her.

"Yes, I thought you could use some caffeine. Are you enjoying the view? You've spent so much time horizontal lately, be careful now."

"Who says we were only horizontal?" My face lit up at the thought of him, vertical, horizontal, or otherwise.

"I see…whore," she whispered, laughing at me as I sipped my drink.

"Holly, I have to tell you, with the way it's been already, you better get some earplugs for when we finally do the deed…"

"What? Wait…he hasn't even fucked you yet?" she asked, or rather yelled, judging by the curious faces of everyone sitting outside at Starbucks. My face burned as brightly as my hair as I looked on apologetically.

"No. Jesus."

"How the hell is that possible? Furthermore, how the hell is that possible? All that screaming and moaning and groaning and grunting and thrashing about that you've subjected me to, not to mention the hole in the wall behind your headboard, and no—"

"…dick, I know. No actual dick, yet." I finished her sentence, hiding my face in my hands. Then I looked up with a curious expression. "There's a hole in the wall behind my headboard?" I smiled at the thought.

"Yes, I noticed there was drywall on the floor of my closet, so I went into your room and saw it. It's being patched next week. Although, now I have a newfound respect for young Mr. Hamilton. All that yelling with no actual penetration, no bang bang?" she cried, her eyes wide. "So, then when is this momentous occasion going to happen?" she asked, still in awe that I had yet to ride the lightening.

"I don't know. I wanted to wait…and now I'm leaving in less than a week…I…I don't know."

"Wanted to wait? Get on the stick woman. Literally. Get. On. That. Stick!" she yelled.

"Dammit, Holly, I know. It's not like I don't want to. I just wanted it to be special, OK!" I sank back into the chair, looking miserable.

"Who are you? Blossom? Grace, you have a twenty-four-year-old man in your bed every single night and you are not letting him into the sanctuary? A man, by the way, that women all over the country are lining up to fuck the brains out of?"

"Believe me, he'll be let into the sanctuary! And thanks for reminding me about all those other women. That's a great visual for me to have when I'm walking around Manhattan. Can we please talk about something else?" I begged her to change the subject.

"Yes. Why were you crying earlier?" she asked, switching topics quickly. I grimaced and took a long pull on my Iced Mocha.

"I don't know. It has just been a whirlwind the last week and there are many different things banging around in my head. I'm so jazzed about this show, and you know I've always wanted to live in New York, even temporarily. And my house, I'm leaving it right as I was going to get to move in!"

"And?" she pushed me.

"And I backed out of the showcase. I feel terrible about that."

"And?"

"And, I will miss you, of course…you're like my Dirty Martini Bitch," I said, my eyes flashing warmly to her.

"And?" She smiled gently.

"Oh, God, and I don't want to leave my Brit…I mean, I really don't want to," I sighed heavily, my hands coming up to my hair and running through it.

"And why would that be exactly…" she asked one last time. I was quiet, chewing on my lip. Then my face broke out into a huge grin.

"Because I haven't gotten the dick yet?" I asked brightly. She couldn't help but laugh as she let me off the hook.

"Look, whether you want to say it out loud or not, it's obvious, Grace. And it's obvious to anyone with eyeballs that he feels the same way."

I fiddled with my wallet, my way of telling her this discussion was over.

"One last thing, if I may?"

"Yes?" I asked warily, looking at her over the rims of my glasses.

"If you don't want to tell me, at least tell him. You should, you know," she finished, sipping at her own drink.

"I am considering all options," I answered. We were quiet for another moment.

"So, really, all that with just his hands?" she asked again.

I smiled proudly. "And his fingers. And his mouth. And his—"

"Stop it, you're making me blush."

We dissolved into giggles to the entertainment of all who had coffee at the Starbucks off La Cienega that afternoon.

***

After coffee with Holly, I headed back to the house. I had gotten a text from Jack about dinner tonight:

Gracie, I am meeting a friend for coffee after looping, and then running by my place for a bit. Dinner tonight? Wear something sexy, not that this would ever be a problem for you.

George

His text made me smile, but I was also feeling a little blue. Which friend was he having coffee with, was it this Marcia?

You were supposed to stop saying it that way…

I know, I know.

I went upstairs and grabbed my iPod and headed out to the terrace. I wanted to soak up as much California weather as I could, although autumn in New York was truly beautiful.

I settled into a lawn chair and breathed in the sunshine. People said L.A. was smoggy, and it was, but there are parts of Southern California that just plain smell better than anywhere else. I could smell sun, grass, oranges, and honeysuckle. It was late in the day and the warm golden glow of the sun bathed me. I felt wrapped in it. I loved L.A. I would miss it.

I dozed in and out and finally took out my earbuds when I noticed that the sun was low in the sky. It was later than I thought. I stretched in my chair like a cat and I heard Jack's car pulling into the driveway, the unmistakable putta putta of his silly little car. He called out to me as he came in through the kitchen.

"Out here, George!" I answered him, bouncing in my seat, waiting to see him for the first time that day like a little schoolgirl. He rounded the corner.

Wow.

He was dressed for the evening. White button down, black jacket, black pants. He was clean-shaven, my favorite stubble from the last few days gone. He smiled that super sexy grin and closed the distance between us.

"Hello," he said, placing his hands on the lawn chair armrests on either side of me. He leaned down, bringing himself closer.

"Hello, yourself," I answered, a little high from the hit of Hamilton that was just blasted at me.

He leaned in and kissed me slowly. He had hesitated just before his mouth touched mine. He was so near I could feel the energy zapping between us, but he still held his lips there for two agonizing seconds. All I could hear was his breathing…mine had stopped.

I would never get tired of kissing this man.

He pulled back when I clutched at him and I stuck my tongue out at him. He laughed.

"Grace, get ready for dinner."

"Dinner schminner. Let's stay in…" I purred, parting my legs, trying to pull him between them.

"Ah ah. I'm taking you out," he scolded, trying to stay away from my arms and legs as I did my best to ensnare him.

"Why don't you skip the out, and just take me," I whispered hungrily in his ear. My talk with Holly today had made me question this whole "special" thing.

I could see hesitation in his eyes as he looked at me, weighing his options. To further entice him, I placed my hand directly over the noticeable bulge in his pants.

I squeezed.

He groaned.

I was going to win this one.

He gave in, pulling me up from the chair, snaking his arms around my waist and crushing me to his chest. Jack lifted me straight up off my feet, lips planted firmly to mine, and carried me backwards through the house towards the stairs. My arms wrapped around his neck. He was holding me against him as though he was dancing with me standing on his toes—except my toes barely brushed his knees. I loved how tall he was. We locked eyes like laser beams. There were no words. We both knew where this was going.

Yeah, let's get after It…

"Hi, fuckface, I'm home!"

He stopped dead on the stairs, my feet swinging like a hanged man. He closed his eyes in frustration and I sighed into his shoulder.

"Holly," we both said at the same time. He put me down on the step, kissing my forehead.

"Dinner?" he asked wearily.

"Give me twenty minutes," I groaned back, giving him a chaste kiss and hopping up the stairs. He gave my ass a smack and I squealed on the way to my room.

Twenty-two minutes later, I walked into the kitchen and was greeted with whistles from both Jack and Holly. I had chosen well, apparently. I was wearing a deep green swing dress with tiny straps and an empire waist. The neck dipped low enough that it was sexy, but not slutty, thank you. I wore my hair down. Luckily, I had let it air dry this morning and my natural curls were lazy and soft, exactly the way Jack liked it. I finished off with gold kitten heels and lots of sparkle.

And my boobies were definitely sparkly.

I felt gorgeous, and the way Jack was staring at me with a dropped jaw told me I had done well. The green of my dress exactly matched the green of his eyes, something that I didn't realize until I saw him in front of me, his eyes burning as he took me in.

"Grace, wow, you are…" he stammered in a low voice.

"Now now, be nice," I teased, but anxious to hear what he would say.

"Illegally beautiful," he finished, brushing my hair back to plant a soft kiss where my neck meets my jaw. My toes, freshly painted with I'm Not Really A Waitress…curled. I literally shook in my heels from that one touch of his lips.

"Ahem," I heard Holly say, bringing me back from orbit, although only slightly as Jack was now planting baby kisses from my neck to my collarbone.

Sweet Sassy Molassey…he is off the charts tonight…

"Guys, a moment?" she asked, throwing a grape at Jack and hitting him in the mouth.

"Hey, bitch, don't mess with my Johnny Bite Down. I'll kick some ass," I snapped, removing the grape and tossing it in my mouth. Jack chuckled and we both turned to her.

"No messing with the, wait, Johnny Bite Down? Forget it, I don't want to know. What I would like to know is how you are gonna explain this?" she asked, in a serious tone.

We both turned to her and saw she had her laptop open. Curious, I stepped behind her and looked over her shoulder. Jack stayed where he was.

TMZ had posted the picture of the two of us at Yamashiro's, with me kissing him on his neck, exactly the same way he had just been kissing me. There was no way to misinterpret the intimacy of this shot, especially the way he was holding my hand. The look on his face as I kissed him implied that there was definitely something between us. The caption read:

"New star, Jack Hamilton, dines at local L.A. eatery with unidentified redhead."

Then, there was another picture of us at FatBurger, I hadn't even seen the cameras that day. "Time hunk Jack Hamilton and mystery redhead."

Finally, there was a picture of he and I holding hands again, walking out of Whole Foods. He was laughing, and I was gazing up at him adoringly, with a simpering look on my face. This time there was a paragraph.

"British heart-throb Jack Hamilton has been photographed all over Los Angeles with a mystery girl. Has this Brit Boy been bitten by the love bug? Or has a cougar gotten her claws into this very single guy?"

I felt tears prick at my eyes as I read the last part. Cougar.

As in, what the fuck was I thinking, dating this much younger a man?

As in, what the fuck was he thinking, hanging out with my ancient ass?

As in, what the fuck must everyone be thinking when they see us together?

Cougar. And the stink of it was that I wasn't even, technically, old enough to be a cougar.

I noticed that Jack still hadn't walked over to look at the pictures. I shook it off, smiling through the fuckery.

"Hey, you should come see these, Hamilton! You look great, although the redhead next to you clearly needs some neck cream…hi turkey wobble!" I forced a laugh out, glaring at Holly's pained expression.

"I've seen them," he said softly. "And Grace, you're insane. I think you look lovely in those pictures."

"Well, the insane part is obviously true. Cougar, huh? You dirty boy," I joked, swallowing hard on the lump in the back of my throat that was rising swiftly.

He crossed to me and took my hands.

"Stop it," he said, brushing his nose to mine and clasping my hands to his chest. I blinked back the tears furiously, bending my head down so he couldn't see them. I could hear Holly typing behind me.

"So, anything else on there I should see? Ashton and Demi make any appearances this week?" I asked, turning away from him and going back over to Holly. I heard Jack grumble behind me. I was getting some control back. I was squishing it back down.

"Nope, that's it," she said, closing her laptop. "Look guys, no one's happier than me about this weird little thing you guys got going on. Truly, I think it's great. In fact, I think it's pretty fucking fantastic."

"Holly, listen, I know that—" I started, and she held up her finger.

"That being said, I have to play the part of manipulative manager and say that being photographed like this, all over town, not a good idea," she said quietly, pain in her face to say it. She looked at me apologetically. I nodded my head to her to show her that I understood, which I did.

"Holly," Jack began, "I'm not going to change what I do in my personal life just because it's more media savvy. We should get that straight right now," he said, coming to me again and slipping an arm around my waist. I leaned into him instinctively, not realizing that we looked like we were presenting a united front on this one. However, I did agree with Holly.

"You know what? I think we should go to dinner and we can figure all this out later," I cut in, attempting to smooth this over. Jack was not upset, but I could see his jaw begin to set. Besides, I was leaving in just a few days. This would be a problem we didn't even have to begin to deal with. It would soon be a non-issue. Holly looked at the two of us and sighed heavily.

"Jack, you know I think you're a great guy. And I obviously love my girl more than anything. But trust me when I say, this is the worst time in your career for you to be perceived as unavailable. That's all I'm going to say for tonight. You guys enjoy yourselves." She smiled, kissing Jack on the cheek, and turning to me.

"And for fuck's sake, Grace, just keep your hands off him in public and all is well," she cried, smacking me lightly on the face.

"I hate you, fucko," I sneered.

"I hate you more. Now scoot." She giggled, leaving the kitchen. And me alone with my Brit.

There was an awkward silence, a first for us.

"So, should we go?" I asked, speaking first. I couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Yes, let's go," he said, smiling at me and catching my hand as we walked towards the door.

He stopped me right before we went outside.

"Are we cool, Gracie?" he asked, his eyes worried. I smoothed his hair back, his eyes relaxing with my touch. I traced my fingers down over his furrowed brow, down his cheek, and pressed my fingers into his lips, which formed into a pucker.

"We're cool, George, we're cool," I answered, smiling at him.

Liar.

This was going to break my heart.