Текст книги "The Unidentified Redhead"

Автор книги: Alice Clayton

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

"I don't think you're boring. I find you quite…stimulating in fact," I answered, in a low voice.

"Really? What exactly do you find stimulating?" he inquired.

"Well, right now it's your voice. That damn accent is driving me crazy." I breathed into the phone. This had gone from innocent to sexpot fast.

"It's always the accent that drives you American women crazy. I'd no idea you fancied it, too…" he trailed off.

"Oooh, fancied it. Say more like that," I begged, smiling into the pillow.

"Like what, Grace?"

"Talk British to me," I whispered, only half joking.

"Dustbins."

"More," I encouraged.

"Crumpets."

"More!" I demanded.

"Knickers."

If I could hear Jack Hamilton say a second word for the rest of my life, it would be knickers.

"Say put another shrimp on the barbie!" I cried.

"Grace, that's Australian," he chided.

"Say it!"

"Fine. Put another shrimp on the barbie. Bloody hell," he muttered.

"Aaaahhhhhhh!" I screamed into the phone. Holly was passing by my room and rolled her eyes. I grinned at her.

"Are you quite finished now?" he asked.

"Oh, my yes. That was great. Thank you for that," I giggled.

"Anything for my unidentified redhead," he replied.

His unidentified redhead? Damn skippy.

"So, what do you have planned for the evening?" I asked.

"I'm going to a club opening, somewhere off Robertson," he said, not sounding that excited about it.

"Well, be careful. And you're not allowed to sleep with anyone from any reality show on MTV," I warned.

"Oh, laying claims now, are we?" he teased, making me realize what I had just said.

Too early, Grace.

"Wait, don't I get to lay any claims tonight?" he protested.

Maybe not too early…

"None of my claims are getting laid tonight, but go ahead."

"You're not allowed to sleep with anyone who has ever watched a reality show on MTV," he continued in a silky voice.

"So there is, like, an after midnight clause?" I teased.

"Don't tempt me, Grace, or I'll comb every club in West Hollywood looking for you, starting at the stroke of midnight," he stated matter-of-factly.

My toes curled. I still needed that second shot of Hamilton.

"Heh heh, you said—" I started.

"Stroke. I know, I said, 'stroke.' I'm on to you, Sheridan," he reminded me.

Please be on to me…at least on me.

"OK, Holly's wearing a hole in the carpet outside my door. I need to get going. I'll speak to you soon?" I hated to get off the phone, but I couldn't take much more of this. The next time we bantered, I hoped it was with seriously less clothing on.

"Yes, I need to meet up with my mates. I'll call you tomorrow. Don't put too much sparkle on your boobies. They look great, by the way. Nice robe." He chuckled.

"Thanks. I, wait, how did you know I'm wearing a—"

"Night, Grace," he whispered.

I sat for a minute on my bed.

What the fudge?

I heard a snicker and looked toward the door. There was Holly with her camera phone. On the screen was a picture of me just a few minutes ago. My robe had fallen open just enough that you could see the tops of my yahoos, to say nothing of how high it was open on my legs.

The worst part was that she had taken it when I was screaming after he said "shrimp on the barbie." I looked like I was in a porno.

She danced away from my lunge and said, "Never throw your loofah at me again. I know where it's been."

Chapter Nine

The night was fun. Holly and I met up with Nick at a club in West Hollywood. They were having "decades" night and we danced all night in the 80's room. I didn't mention to Nick the fact that I had been engaged in a back-and-forth with Jack. First, I knew how big a crush he really did have. Second, he worked in the industry too, and that was just too tempting a rumor.

After the hangover from the other day, I made sure to restrict myself to a two drink maximum, despite Nick's best attempts to get me wasted and on stage with a drag queen. It was not going to happen—the getting wasted part. I did dance on the stage…

I packed my tired ass into bed sometime after three—well past my bedtime—and was asleep almost instantly, although not so instantly that I didn't spare a thought to the Brit, and wondered whether he was home yet or not.

***

Only a few hours later, after some much needed power sleeping, I decided to go for another run in Griffith Park. As I drove through the canyons on the way, my phone rang. It was the Brit.

"Hey there," I chirped merrily into the phone. I was happier than I wanted to be to talk to him.

"Hey, Nuts Girl. What are you up to?" he asked, his voice deliciously thick. He sounded like he'd just woken up.

"I'm going for a run. You?"

"I'm still in bed, trying to decide if I can talk the girl at Starbucks into making a home delivery. Is it too pretentious to ask if she's a Time fan?" he asked, already knowing my answer.

"Yes, it is. Don't you dare," I chided.

"Where are you going for your run?" he inquired, setting me up. I let him.

"Griffith Park, why?"

"Oh, that's really close to my place. Pity I don't know who that unidentified redhead was. I bet she'd get me some coffee."

"Maybe if you ask really nice and then you kiss on her for awhile, she might consider it," I teased, loving where this was leading.

"That's a deal. When I see her, I'll kiss on her until she tells me to stop."

"Who says she'll tell you to stop?" I hinted.

"Well, then you better get your sweet ass over here so I can begin the kissing," he invited.

You are going to let him touch your boobies, aren't you?

Maybe. Probably.

"OK, I'm going for my run and then I'll be by with your coffee. Did you need a muffin, too? Or am I just your java wench for now?" I sassed back.

"Haha! Just the coffee, but skip the run. I'm lonely."

"No, I need to run. Besides, that will give you time to clean up your place," I pushed.

"How do you know if I need to clean up my place or not? You've never been here," he asked.

"You're twenty-four right? Let's see, twenty-four. I am going to guess that your boxers are on the coffee table, there are pizza boxes on the floor, and the bong is on the back of the toilet. Yes?"

He was quiet for a minute and then he burst out laughing. "Go for your run, I'll see you soon. And the bong isn't in the bathroom," he chided.

"Kitchen?"

"Maybe."

"Has it ever been in the bathroom?" I pressed.

"Dammit, yes."

"I am the master! Text me your order and your address and I'll be along soon. I'm warning you, though. I will be all hot and sweaty from my run. You may not want to kiss me."

"Not possible. I'm looking forward to the hot and sweaty. And Grace?"

"Yes?"

"Run fast," he said darkly.

"No problem. See you soon," I promised.

I ran like my ass was on fire.

***

I made it to his apartment in less than 60 minutes, forgoing my usual longer run in favor of a more Jack-friendly workout. I had picked up his coffee, Grande Espresso, and my Iced Mocha as well. I climbed the stairs to his door and knocked carefully, balancing the two cups.

When he opened the door, my breath drew in with a hiss. He was wearing a white t-shirt, low slung jeans and was barefoot. The hair was curly perfection and he hadn't shaved for a few days. The roughness of his beard accented his jawbones, making him look both virile and angelic at the same time. He was smiling at me while looking devilish. I said hello to him, walked past him into the hallway, and continued into what I assumed was the living room. He said nothing, just followed me in. I could hear the soft slap of his bare feet on the wood floors. I turned around to hand him his coffee and he was right behind me. He took both cups and set them on the table.

"I got it with two sugars, just the way you…" I was silenced by his stare. He slid his hands around my waist and pulled me into him. His green eyes were blazing, his jaw set as his fingers touched the skin between my tank top and my track pants.

"Sorry, I told you I was going to be sweaty, do you want me to—"

"Grace?" he interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Shut the fuck up and enjoy this," he whispered, as he bent his head to mine.

He's right, Grace, shut the fuck up.

His lips touched mine, and though yesterday's kiss was sweet and amazing, he was serious today. His mouth moved over mine urgently, incessantly. I had been dying to touch his hair since the first day I saw it, and now I dug in. I felt the silk and the soft of every strand as I wound my fingers throughout, drawing him closer to me. I sucked lightly on that damn lower lip, and when his tongue met mine I…thought…I…would explode.

His hands were rough on my hips, tugging me closer, and I could feel each fingerprint pressing into my skin. My senses were so heightened in that moment that I could even feel slight calluses on his left hand as they dragged toward my belly. I moaned into his mouth, feeling my skin pebble and shiver. He pulled back for a nanosecond and inhaled, gazing at me through heavy eyes and then leaned in for more.

His lips trailed down my jaw towards my neck and I turned my head to give it all to him. It was my sweet spot, the one that made my toes point…yep, they were pointing. He used his tongue to tickle his way from my collarbone up to my ear, stopping only to nibble and nip here and there. I pulled my right hand away from his hair and began running my fingertips up and down his back, feeling his strong muscles through his thin shirt. His hands returned to my hips, pushing me backwards until I felt my legs hit the table. He stopped, then, and lifted his head from my neck to look at me. I took the opportunity to snake my hands around to the front, slipping them under his shirt and letting them feather across his stomach. He closed his eyes.

"You're driving me crazy, Sheridan," he groaned, pushing me back onto the table.

"You like crazy, remember?" I quipped, scrambling up so that I was sitting with him in between my legs. "Now, come get your crazy," I whispered, grabbing his shirt and pulling him back down to me.

It was hot.

He was hot.

I was hot. I was really hot. I was almost…uncomfortably hot. I was, burning?

"Ow ow ow!" I shouted, pushing him off me and springing off the table. "What the what?" I cried, feeling my back. I had lain right on his espresso, knocked it over, and it was now all over my back and sweet mother of pearl it was hot! It was dripping off the side of the table and onto the floor.

"Are you OK?" he exclaimed, un-sticking my shirt and holding it away from my body so I could get a little air flow.

"Yes! God dammit, that hurts!" I cried. And what the hell, who makes out with someone as hot as this guy and then lays in hot coffee?

You do, Grace.

"You'd better take that off. It's cooling now," he observed, staring at the coffee destruction that I had inflicted on my shirt.

"Ya think?" I asked, more frustrated that the kissing had stopped than the fact that my back was probably blistering. I could tell he was concerned that I'd really hurt myself, but there was also a twinkle beginning to build in his eye. He was trying not to laugh as he continued to hold my shirt away from my back.

"If I take this shirt off, I'll be topless. No bra, mister, can you handle that?" I inquired.

"Why don't we just take a look at your back first, make sure you're OK. Then I'll see about handling you," he teased, still trying not to laugh. I turned around and grasped my tank top, pulling it slowly up towards my shoulders. As I revealed my back to him, I heard him gasp.

"Yeah, that's right. Liking the view?" I asked, swaying my hips suggestively. I peered over my shoulder in what I thought was a seductive gaze. He was frowning.

"Settle down, Crazy Girl, you are really red back here. Let me get you some ice," he replied. "Stay here."

He walked into the kitchen and I could hear him puttering about. He came back in a minute, holding a Ziploc bag filled with ice, and was wrapping a kitchen towel around it. He took my elbow and began leading me into his bedroom. I still had my shirt pulled up around my chin, trying to keep the girls under cover in front. I saw him sneak a glance down and then shake his head. He was smiling that sexy little half grin.

"You're in quite the compromising position."

"Compromise this," I shot back, as we walked into his bedroom. I could tell he had just straightened up right before I got there and I was touched.

It smelled like Febreze.

He guided me over to the bed. "Right then, you lay down and I'm gonna put this on your back. It should feel better. I promise I won't peek," he stated, as I stood in front of him. I stretched up on my tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his neck and then kicked off my sneakers.

"Close your eyes," I whispered. He grinned and his eyes slammed shut dramatically.

I lifted my shirt off over my head and tossed it on the floor in front of me. As it hit the tops of his feet, he smiled again.

"You promised, no peeking," I scolded, moving over to his bed.

"I know. I'm trying. You're kind of killin' me here. Let me know when you're settled," he said softly.

"All right, I'm good. You can open now," I answered. I had settled myself on the middle of his bed, lying on my tummy, facing him. I had grabbed a pillow and placed it below me and it was keeping me covered. Mostly. I might have arranged my cleavage a little. He opened his eyes and took me in.

"Why the hell couldn't you have spilled some on your pants, too, Grace?" he joked, sitting next to me. "Hold still, here comes the ice." He gently placed the towel wrapped ice bag on the place where it was the most red and I hissed involuntarily.

"Does that hurt much?" he asked, his other hand running up and down my arm soothingly.

"No, not too much. It's just the cold."

We both smiled at each other again. I looked around his room and noticed a guitar in the corner. I would have to remember to ask him about that.

I sighed. "What's that about?" he asked, noticing the sigh.

"It's nothing. When I imagined me being topless in your bedroom, there wasn't an ice pack involved," I joked.

"You are not the only one who has imagined you topless in here. Who knew you would sustain an injury, though?" he answered.

"Well, I'm here. And I am topless."

"Yes, and still burned. I wouldn't want you to injure yourself further," he stated firmly.

I looked at him. He was sitting cross legged on the bed next to me with the ice bag in one hand, holding it to my back. The other was still on my arm. He looked like a piece of heaven. I couldn't resist him; he was too delicious.

I sat up, with my hands still covering me. He slid the ice off my back. I reached out my hands to him, leaving me open to his gaze. His eyes widened and a slow grin spread across his face. I pushed him back onto the pillows and swung one leg over.

"It's OK, Hamilton. I'll just have to be on top."

"Beautiful," he breathed.

Nice move, Grace, now go get yours.

***

We did not do the deed. That would have been too easy, too soon. It would've been amazing, but amazing too soon. I thought about what had transpired between us as I drove home. My mind kept flashing on images that were particularly pleasant.

His eyes, staring up at me as I straddled him, running my hands through my hair, smirking down at him…

His hands, when he touched me for the first time. He'd run them slowly from my hips to my belly, and then proceeded, with agonizing slowness, to my breasts. He watched my face for approval as he circled me, caressing the sides of each before gently kneading my skin. I had moaned when his fingertips brushed against my nipples, which hardened instantly.

His soft smile, as he watched me begin to come undone…

His strength, as he sat up underneath me, nuzzling at my neck. He had been so careful not to touch my back, and he used my hips to guide me closer to him. I only cringed slightly when he grasped me there; I wasn't quite as self conscious as I had once been. I had lost my hands in his hair again. His breath had gotten heavier and more uneven as I pressed my hips downward onto him, eliciting a groan that made my blood boil and my tummy flip.

His lips, as he pressed them further down my neck towards my breasts. I had arched backwards to get better leverage and he kissed down between them. He had planted soft kisses all over, between, below, and around.

His tongue, when he finally took my right nipple into his mouth. He had sucked tortuously, running his tongue back and forth before releasing it with a nibble. He had grinned wickedly at me, as he watched my reaction.

It had been unreal. There were truly no words.

When we'd finally broken apart, panting heavily, we just stared at each other with unmistakable lust. My lips had been swollen from his more passionate kisses, and the subtle scratches from his stubble. I had still been sitting on his lap, my legs wrapped around him. He had laid his head on my chest, nudging my head back so he could snuggle into the nook between my shoulder and breast. His strong arms had encircled me, making sure there was no space between our skin. I'd trailed my hands through his hair again, more gently, using my fingernails to massage his scalp. This was something I'd quickly discovered that he loved.

He had sighed contentedly and asked, "How is it possible that I have only known you a few days?"

"I know. I know," I soothed, pulling him even closer to me. The franticness of earlier had segued into a smooth and easy pace of touching and feeling and comforting and closeness. It was sweet.

"How's your back?" he asked, not pulling away. If anything, he had cuddled closer to me. I felt his warm breath on my chest.

"It's better. Thanks for the distraction," I had replied, kissing his forehead, his temples, his nose, his eyelids, his eyebrows. He had sighed again, making a light humming sound in the back of his throat that I'd filed it away as "Jack's Happy Sound".

A horn honking brought me back down to earth, snapping me out of my memory. I brushed my fingertips over my still swollen lips and grinned. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the rear view mirror and my heart flipped as I remembered what I was wearing. My shirt had still been wet with coffee, so when I left I was wearing one of his shirts, a long sleeved white thermal. It would have fit him snugly, but I was swimming in it. He took the time to roll up my sleeves for me, while I stood in front of him at his front door. I noticed, and not for the first time, how much taller than me he was. He was easily over six feet, and he gazed down at me adoringly. He handed me my ruined shirt in a baggie and smiled at me. I wondered if things would change now. We had made out all morning, hardly joking at all.

Would we be friends now? Would we be mushy now? Would we be anything now?

He leaned to kiss me goodbye and whispered in my ear, "In case I didn't tell you, you have gorgeous tits."

I grinned inwardly, then placed my mouth right next to his ear. "I know, wait until you see the rest of me."

We both cracked huge smiles and I trotted away towards my car. When I got there, I looked back and saw him still standing there, watching me.

"See ya, Hamilton!"

"Later, Sheridan."

Yeah, things will be just fine.

***

Jack and I had agreed that for the rest of the day, I was working. He was in between jobs right now, although he was doing more and more press for the film. Holly also had him taking meetings all over town, making sure that the doors were open when this movie premiered. All the industry trackers were predicting a commercial success, possibly even forty million plus opening weekend. If all went well, Jack would have significant bargaining power when choosing his next few jobs. Holly was determined that they would use his new power position to secure his career, rather than capitalize on just the next eighteen months while he was the new "it boy".

Because he wasn't technically working right now, he was enjoying his last few months of relaxation in relative anonymity, although even that was no longer guaranteed. I thought about the pictures from yesterday and I thought how a picture of me leaving his apartment in what was obviously his shirt could affect him.

It would have looked like we were indulging in a little afternoon delight, to which I was no longer opposed.

I was behind on my work with my scene partner, not to mention almost overdue on a project that I was working on for a client. I told Jack, emphatically, that he was not allowed to call me, email me, or send me texts until I reached out to him. He was so charming that he would pull my focus from whatever task I was trying to complete—not that I was complaining. The time we spent together this morning was crazy-town good. I needed to keep both feet planted firmly on the ground, however. It would be so easy to get carried away with all things Hamilton. Besides, I had another motive for spending the afternoon alone.

I wanted to Google him.

Ever since he'd mentioned it at the beach, I'd been considering it. I mean, really, it wasn't too stalkerish, was it? If I was dating any other guy and I knew there were oodles of information available, just waiting for me, wouldn't I take advantage of it? Was this creepy?

Hells bells, Loretta, just Google him for fuck's sake.

I made myself work for a few hours when I got home, after I took a peek at my back. It was still red, but not too bad. I might milk it a little next time I saw him, score some sympathy points. Maybe even a back rub. Yeah, a back rub. His hands would trail lightly down my back, further still to my panties, and then…

Focus up, Grace.

I did work for a few hours, and then I switched over to the open mike night I had planned for the following week. I strummed my guitar, practicing the songs I had chosen. I had recently begun to write some of my own songs, but I wasn't quite confident enough about them yet to sing them in public.

I was still singing when I noticed it was almost dinnertime and Holly would be home soon. I would have to Google later. I raced through the shower and was just getting dressed when she called to let me know she was about five minutes away. She was bringing Thai home for dinner.

I was slipping into a white linen shift when she poked her head into my room.

"Hey, ass. Dinner's downstairs and you've got a package waiting for you on the front porch."

"I do?"

"Yeah, it's right outside. Go get your package." She smiled as I walked past her, raising an eyebrow. She just shrugged and pointed me towards the front door.

I walked out and saw a white envelope on the front step. I opened it, and found a Starbucks gift card. The note attached said:

You didn't say anything about a handwritten delivery

when you cut off all forms of communication.

Turn around.

"Oh man, Hamilton, are you here?" I called out as I turned around. He caught me up into a close hug, pulling back to kiss my forehead.

"I brought you this, since you didn't really get your money's worth this morning."

"You're silly, and I told you no communication. Obviously this would include face to face," I pouted, relaxing a little into his grasp.

"Why are you so serious about this no communication thing?" he inquired, lowering his face to mine and beginning to sweep gentle kisses from my ear down to my neck.

"This is why. Because I can't focus when you do that," I sighed, leaning in to him against my better judgment.

"Can't focus, huh? So, I shouldn't do this?" he asked innocently, brushing his fingertips down my bare arms. He slid his hand along my shoulder, inside the linen dress and began to move towards my breast.

"No, you shouldn't," I protested, weakly. I was already beginning to get worked up and could feel my breasts tighten as he moved closer.

"I like this dress, Grace. I've never seen you in a dress."

"No kidding. We just met! So far, you have seen me in workout clothes, a racing suit and a slutty pair of jeans. And a Saltine shower."

He laughed, remembering the Saltines. "Well, they were all memorable. But the dress? My favorite so far." He continued his assault on my senses, running his hands further down my sides, and starting to gather handfuls of linen, lifting my dress up high on my thighs.

"For fuck's sake, we can't do this here! This is so inappropriate. This is wrong. This is…Oh, God…" I stopped, unable to speak.

He'd allowed his fingertips to slide all the way up my legs, stopping only when he reached my lacy panties. He traced the edge of the lace, starting at my hip and moving down, then covering me with his hand. I couldn't help the moan that escaped me.

"Are you focusing right now, Grace?" He breathed into my ear.

"Um, yes? But you don't affect me as much as you think you do." I tried feebly to keep control of the conversation, since I was losing control of the lower half of my body.

"I don't think that's true." He frowned at me, pulling the lace aside, his fingers hovering just above me. Like before, even though he wasn't actually touching me, I could feel him. I could feel where he was and I knew he knew exactly what this was doing to me. "In fact, I would say, you are very affected by this," he whispered hotly, holding my gaze with his own, his piercing eyes not allowing me to look away.

Then, his fingers touched me.

I have never in my life felt so aroused. It was magic. His fingers fluttered along, grazing me lightly. I almost came right then. I shuddered.

"Mmm, Grace. You sure this isn't affecting you?" he continued, pressing down on me. I almost lost my balance. He pushed me back up against the door, slamming me against the doorbell. I heard it ring out.

"Coming!" I heard Holly say as she clicked across the floor to the front door.

"Not quite, but she's close." He chuckled, removing his hand and leaving me breathless and rosy cheeked.

"I'll just let you get back to focusing. Call me when you're ready to finish this," he said, laughing lightly at my frustrated and confused look.

"Guh," I mumbled. He slipped into the darkness, but I could hear him. I amused him.

Holly opened the door and took one look at me. I was still against the door with my dress bunched up around my hips. I was shaking my head in wonderment, looking frazzled and thrilled all at the same time.

"Oh, God, the British have landed, haven't they?" she asked.

I looked up at her, incapable of speech.

I distinctly heard Jack's laughter slice through the night as his car sped away.

"You better not have fucked her up against my front door, Jack!" she called after him.

As his car disappeared around the corner, I heard him yell, "Not yet, Holly!"

Holly shook her finger at me in a tsk-tsk fashion and went back inside. Seconds later she turned the porch light out on me.

You just lost the power of speech.