Chapter 9
Nine
Grace
“I t looks so cute in here, Grace,” Gemma says as the two of us pause and take in our handiwork.
“Doesn’t it?” Pride fills my chest. The school gym that was nothing but over-waxed wood flooring, creaky old bleachers, and unappealing fluorescent lighting a few hours ago is now all glitzed and glammed.
Okay, that may be an exaggeration. But it is much more aesthetically pleasing than it was earlier this afternoon. Gemma and I hung twinkle lights and cute silver and gold themed decorations we picked up at the party store, and set up a beverage and buffet station for the food that Taylor’s Grill is graciously donating for the event.
“When’s Conway getting here?” my sister asks.
“Not until right before the event starts.” I grab my purse off one of the tables, slinging it over one of my shoulders, needing to get home and get ready. “He’s in the middle of a huge project at work and down a few guys who apparently have food poisoning.”
“How’s it going with him?” she asks, arching an eyebrow curiously.
Shrugging, I keep my face as free of emotion as I can manage. “Fine, I guess.” It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not exactly the full truth either. I conveniently leave out all the weird and confusing interactions we’ve had over the last month. Although, since the day I stormed away from his job site two weeks ago, not much of anything has happened between us. He turned the plans into the principal, and anything we needed to discuss took place over text.
Probably for the best.
“That’s good,” Gemma offers with a smile as we make our way to the parking lot. “Well, I’ll see you back here in a couple hours then?”
“Yes! Thank you for all your help today.”
“It was fun. Happy to help.”
Turning on my car, my eyes flit to the clock on the dash, and I’m impressed with what good time we made setting everything up. I actually have more than enough time to get home, shower, get ready, and make it back for the start of the auction on time, especially since Ethan has the kids tonight. For once, Conway won’t have anything to gripe about. That’ll sure feel good, sticking it to him, because I know he’s assuming I’ll be late.
Unable to help myself, I pull out my phone and send him a text.
Me: I expect an apology when I show up on time tonight.
I’ll show him .
* * *
Okay, maybe I won’t be showing him after all.
Everything was going fine; I was making good time until it came time to curl my hair. Halfway through, I blew a fuse, which that, in and of itself, shouldn’t have been that big of a setback. I reset the fuse box, but when I went to turn my curling iron back on, the thing was dead. It’s not even that old. Then, when I tried to continue curling my hair with my straightener instead, it wouldn’t work. I don’t even know why I bothered, because I’ve never been able to curl my hair with a straightener. No matter how simple people make it look in the dozens of tutorial videos I’ve watched online, it never, ever works the way it should.
After spending entirely too long attempting to save my hair, I finally said screw it, and threw it up, but now I’m running late. I should’ve been in the gym helping Conway set up the food fifteen minutes ago, yet I’m just now pulling into the parking lot that’s already packed with parents and guests.
Lovely. I can already see the smug look on Conway’s face when he spots me coming in late, and my blood is boiling in anticipation. I went out of my way to plan everything for today in a way that would ensure I wasn’t late. There’s no reason I should be late, but the universe is plotting against me, apparently. But you know what? Tonight is going to be amazing. This auction is going to be a huge success, so Conway and his grumbly bitching can go to hell.
I walk into the school, passing by and saying hi to a plethora of parents on my way to the gym. There’s music playing loud enough to hear it in the halls; a playlist I curated myself. I’m about twenty feet away from the entrance to the gym, when Conway saunters out, hands stuffed into the pockets of the jeans he’s wearing. Jeans that aren’t covered in dried paint or mud. In fact, it’s impossible not to notice how handsome and cleaned up he looks tonight. It’s infuriating. Especially when I take in the furrow to his brow and the hard set of his jaw as he approaches me.
“Don’t even start, Conway,” I bite out as he gets closer.
Not bothering with words, Conway takes a look around before grabbing me by the arm and dragging me into the dark hallway right off the gym. His grip is tight, and I hate the way his touch has me buzzing. Goosebumps spread over my arm and my pulse accelerates while irritation heats my blood at the same time.
“Get your fucking hand off me,” I mutter, yanking my arm out of his hand. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Here I was, fully prepared to praise you for being on time tonight,” he murmurs, that same infuriatingly smug look in his eye that I knew was coming.
“ Praise me ?” I parrot. “I’m not your dog.”
“You’re not on time either.” He shrugs.
“So, you brought me back here to, what? Punish me?”
Every inch of my body lights up like the Fourth of July as Conway shamelessly drags his gaze down the length of my body before coming back up to look me in the eye, lip tipped up on one side. “Maybe I should,” he says, tone thick with gravel.
That shouldn’t send a bolt of arousal to my core. It really shouldn’t, but it does. It’s also probably the reason I cross my arms over my chest, cock my head to the side as I peer up at him, and say, “Who do you think you are?”
Heat fills Conway’s already darkened eyes, the sight filling my belly with butterflies and something much filthier. Especially when a growl rips from his throat as he closes the distance between us, crowding my space and forcing my back to collide with the wall, knocking the wind right out of me. “Careful,” he husks, the word filled with warning and lust.
Right here, in this dark, empty hallway where nobody can see us, my body and mind are not my own. I’m not in charge of the words that spill out of my mouth or the way my body reacts to his threat and his body’s proximity. So much so, that I don’t even realize what it is I’m saying until it’s too late.
“Or what?” I taunt. “You gonna spank me, Daddy?”
If Conway’s surprised by what I just said, he doesn’t let his face give it away. A shiver racks through me as he brushes a finger across my cheekbone, gaze alternating between my eyes and my parted lips. “Maybe I will,” he mutters, almost as if only to himself.
The fire inside of me grows, burning hot through my veins. “Right here, where anybody could see us? Yeah, right. You don’t have it in you.”
A smirk curls his lip as he cocks an eyebrow. “No?”
“Nope,” I reply smugly, popping the ‘ p’ .
What the hell am I doing? Do I want him to actually spank me? Surely not. Why would I want that? Especially in such a public place. I’ve never even been remotely interested in something like that. Yet the racing of my heart and the tingles spreading along my flesh would certainly say otherwise.
Raking his heated gaze over me one more time, he makes a spinning motion with his index finger. “Turn around,” he growls, sending a fresh wave of arousal to my core. I press my thighs together, trying to relieve the ache steadily building, but it feels useless. My panties are already soaked.
Huffing out a small, dry laugh, I say, “I’m not doing that.”
“Oh, yes, you are, Sin.” Conway takes another step toward me, putting us impossibly close, his thumb and index finger taking my chin in a painful grip as he forces my gaze to meet his. Being this close to him, I notice the small gold flecks floating in his dark irises. The fact that I can even spot those is a miracle, since his pupils are blown so wide. “You want to act like a disobedient little fucking brat, you’re going to get punished like one.”
My pussy throbs and my nipples harden. Fuck, while I don’t understand my body’s reaction to him and his filthy words, I can’t seem to get enough. I’m damn near salivating, waiting for his next move that I can’t formulate a single response.
Conway brings his lips down, brushing against mine in a way that has me panting for more. My heart hammers against my ribs, chest rising and falling rapidly with my shallow breaths, and it would take next to nothing to tip my chin up and fully seal our mouths together. But I don’t do that. I’m too eager to see what he’ll do, and luckily, he doesn’t make me wait long to find out.
Dragging his tongue along my bottom lip, he groans before muttering darkly, “I will ask you one more time, Sin. Turn. Around. ”
This time, I do it.
I do it eagerly. Without thinking twice about it. And when he leans in, bringing his lips next to my ear and says, “Now, put your hands on the wall and arch for me real nice,” I do that too, unable to ignore the way his words have my core dripping already. I feel arousal everywhere . It’s a pulsing, desperate ache I feel from my head all the way down to my toes. My skin is on fire and my mind is hazy.
Who knew having somebody bark orders at me would be such a turn on?
“Look at that,” he rasps, an edge of condescension in his tone. “Turns out you can follow direction after all.”
I bite back the smirk trying to break free. “Fuck off,” I mutter.
“You know,” Conway muses, dragging a finger down the length of my back, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps all over. “For being such a royal pain in my ass, you sure do look sexy tonight.”
My throat tightens, heart skipping a beat at hearing a man like Conway refer to me as sexy . It’s been so long since I’ve heard those words.
“This fucking tiny pink dress you’re wearing,” he continues, finger reaching the base of my spine. He flattens his palm out as he crudely grabs a handful of my ass. “It’s like you wore it with the idea of me punishing you in mind. Did you do that, Sin? Is this sexy little dress all for me?”
“You wish,” I spit out. Molten lava spreads low in my belly as he gropes my ass, and I nearly moan.
“So fucking sassy,” he growls, and I gasp as he flips the bottom of my dress up, revealing my lace-covered cheeks to him. “It’s about time I taught you about manners, don’t you think, Sin?”
I bite down on my bottom lip, muffling a moan as he runs a finger along my center.
“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me.” Amusement drips from his words, the same way my pussy drips all over my panties. Continuing to rub me through the lace, Conway brings his lips to my ear again, his hot breath sending a shiver down my spine. “What I’d really like to do is spank this nice, plump ass of yours until it’s painted red, but given where we’re at, that wouldn’t work.”
My god, the way I’m desperate to feel him do that.
“But don’t worry, I’ve got a better idea to punish you,” he husks. “One that’ll have that fucking attitude of yours running down your leg in no time. But you gotta be quiet, can’t have anybody hearing you fall apart for me. Can you keep it down, Sin?”
I toss him a glowering look over my shoulder. “Please,” I scoff. “Like it would actually be hard to keep it down. You can’t make me scream.”
He chuckles, teeth nipping my ear lobe. “Don’t think so?”
“I know so.”
“We’ll see about that.” Shoving my panties roughly to the side, two fingers find my clit almost annoyingly quickly, and as soon as they do, he pauses. “What do we have here?”
My pussy clenches and aches as he rubs small circles around the bud, and I bite down on my lip again to stifle any noise wanting to come out. He is not going to prove me wrong. Or at least, he’s not going to know he did. No fucking way.
“What a sexy little surprise this is,” he purrs into my ear. “Grace Astor has her clit pierced. Maybe you’re not as sweet and innocent as you like to appear.”
My lip curls into a grin, hearing the barely restrained desire in his voice. Piercing my clitoral hood was a spur-of-the-moment decision I made right after my divorce was finalized. It was my weird way of taking back my sexuality after years of feeling unattractive and unwanted by my husband. The reaction men give me when they discover the jewelry for the first time always fills me with need. And Conway’s right; it’s not something anybody would think I would do, given how good I appear. I think that’s what makes me love it the most.
Fingers leaving my throbbing clit, Conway sinks them into my pussy with ease. I’m already so wet, there’s zero resistance. “You’re fucking dripping, Sin,” he growls. “You like my fingers in your tight cunt?”
“No.” I shake my head, both of us knowing it’s a bold-faced lie.
Conway fucks me with the thick digits, my walls clenching around them, aching for more. In the very back of my mind, I’m aware we’re somewhere where anybody could easily find us, but I can’t seem to care. The way he’s playing my body like a fiddle has every ounce of rational thinking in my mind fizzling away.
“Lie all you want, Sin,” he murmurs before his lips press down on the spot where my shoulder and neck meet. My nostrils flare on a harsh exhale, a breathy moan slipping past my lips before I can stop it. “But your body speaks for itself. You fucking love this, and if I know you at all, you hate that you don’t hate it almost as much.”
He’s right. He knows it, I know it.
Sweat beads along my hairline and down my neck as he thrusts his fingers into my soaking wet pussy, and when he withdraws them, bringing them back to my clit, spreading my arousal all over, my core clenches at the loss of fullness.
There’s no confusion, no left lip rubbing. No, Conway locates the clit on the first try, and massages it like it’s his life’s purpose. He brings his free hand up to wrap around the front of my neck, and I let my head fall onto his shoulder as my eyes flutter closed, and I stop trying to fight the pleasure.
My body is coiled tight, heart thrashing as he brings me right to the brink of release, only to switch it up and sink his fingers back in my pussy again. It’s no surprise when he curls them, easily finding my G-spot.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp.
“That’s it, Sin. Give it to me,” he growls lowly. “You were so confident that I couldn’t make you come, but look at you. You’re a mess, falling apart right here in the hallway, everybody just around the corner. What a good fucking girl you are.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck . It’s not fair how easily he can play my body. He’s touching me like he’s done it a million times before, and it’s pathetic how much I’m enjoying myself. Pressure builds and heat spreads, my muscles tightening as he inches me closer and closer to combustion.
“Here’s what you’re gonna do, Sin,” he rasps in my ear. “You’re going to cum all over these two fingers. Then you’re going to go into that gym afterwards and do your best to pretend I didn’t just make you come harder than you ever have. And I’m going to enjoy every second of it because there’s no chance you can pretend.”
“You’re wrong,” I lie once again as I bite back a moan.
“Yeah? Show me how wrong I am, Sin. Let me feel how much you don’t want me as your greedy little cunt strangles my fingers.”
Biting down on my lip, I slam my eyes shut, as I can’t hold on any longer. It hits me like a tsunami, vicious and all at once. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes into me, my jaw going slack as I lose myself to this earth-shattering orgasm. Conway’s hand leaves my throat as it comes up and covers my mouth instead, muffling the cries and moans I can’t hide.
As soon as it’s finished and Conway pulls his fingers out, righting my panties, a wretched disgust blankets my senses. This isn’t me. What the fuck was I thinking? Fixing my dress, I spin around, coming face to face with Conway as I watch him suck my juices off his fingers. I resent the way my core clenches again at the sight.
“You’re such a fucking asshole,” I spit out, bringing my palms flat to his chest to shove him away as hard as I can before storming down the hall toward the gym.
Conway is somebody I cannot stand. He’s a smug, cocky pain in my ass, yet I just let him finger me in the hallway of this school. What is wrong with me? He’s never even taken me on a date, and a little dominance has me becoming a cat in heat around him? Gross, I don’t think so. This isn’t how my happily ever after fairytale is supposed to go.
I deserve more than a heated finger blast in a hallway.
Fuck him.
Once inside the gym, I’m able to avoid him throughout the rest of the evening. The auction is a huge success, and without knowing how much money we raised until I can add it all up later this week, I can confidently say we’ve raised an impressive amount. The success from tonight is almost enough to keep my mind off what happened with Conway.
“You must be proud tonight,” a cute guy says as he approaches me at the punch table.
A smile curls my lips. “I am.” Offering him my hand, I say, “I don’t think we’ve met yet. Grace, and you are?”
“We sort of met over the phone,” he says, slipping his hand into mine. “Winston Parker.”
“Oh, right, the new doctor.” Our handshake lasts longer than it should, but I’m okay with that. “It’s nice to put a face to the voice. And thank you again for your generous donation.”
“My pleasure, Grace.” His smile is genuine and bright. “I would love to take you out to celebrate such a successful night, if you’re interested?”
Conway’s face pops into my mind the second Winston asks me out, but I’m quick to reject it. “I’d love to.”
Winston is the type of guy I’d normally go after. From what very little I know about him, he’s everything I should want. He’s handsome, friendly, generous, and certainly doesn’t strike me as somebody who would give me a hard time about little things the way somebody else does. He also doesn’t strike me as the type who would want to punish me. Although, I hate to admit how much disappointment fills me with that last one.
Conway is nothing but an asshole who finds entirely too much enjoyment out of pissing me off. What’s happened between us makes no sense, and it’s clearly never going to go anywhere. He’s a one-night stand type of man. Allergic to relationships. And I deserve somebody who wants what I want. Who can give me the fairytale ending I deserve. Conway isn’t that man; he’ll probably never be that man, and I’d be a fool to think he would.
Funnily enough, I feel eyes on me as soon as I agree to the date. Scanning the area quickly, my pulse races and my stomach bottoms out as my gaze lands on Conway from across the room. He’s standing with his shoulder resting against the wall, arms folded over his chest, and his eyes narrowed as they look from me to Winston. His obvious jealousy heats my blood all over again. It’s not lost on me that I’m standing here, being asked out by this nice man, who on paper seems perfect for me, while my panties are drenched because of somebody else. Guilt hits me briefly, but it’s replaced with a thrilling excitement instead.
Good. Let him be jealous and pissed off.
I deserve to be courted. I deserve to be asked out on a proper date. And the fact of the matter is, that’ll never be Conway.
Maybe Winston will have me forgetting about what Conway’s fingers feel like inside of me and how easily he made me come.
Yeah, this is a good idea. This is what’s best.