Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
Conway
“I have absolutely no idea where you’re taking me,” Grace muses as she looks out the tinted window of the town car we’re in, taking in the city as it passes by.
Huffing out a laugh, I say, “Yeah, that’s the whole point of a surprise, Grace.”
Turning her head, Grace rolls her eyes, lip twitching with the smile she’s trying to hide. “Can you just tell me?” she whines. “Please? We’re almost there, aren’t we? I think it’s been a secret long enough.” Reaching over, she pats the side of my arm, like she’s trying to be reassuring, but it only makes me chuckle. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”
Her inability to handle surprises is adorable. “I promise, it won’t kill you to wait.”
“It might,” she huffs, causing laughter to bubble up my throat. Her eyes narrow, feigning annoyance, as she brings the long-stem glass up to her lips, taking a sip of the chilled champagne that was waiting for us when the driver picked us up at the hotel.
Roughly five minutes later, a little before eleven in the morning, our driver pulls into the parking garage of a sleek, modern, high-rise building, following it upward until he eventually parks. Climbing out, he opens the door for us, letting Grace slide out, then me. I smile and nod to the man as he tells me he’ll be back in a few hours to pick us up.
Scanning the parking garage like it’ll offer some sort of answer, Grace folds her arms over her chest, brows pinched, as she directs her attention to me. “I am so confused.”
My shoulders shake with laughter as I press my hand to the small of her back and say, “Let’s go, you brat. Don’t wanna be late.”
After I check in with a member of the staff, we ride the elevator up to the ninety-sixth floor, where we’re greeted by another person who takes our coats and lets us into the penthouse. All white everything, with floor-to-ceiling windows showing off an impressive view of the Empire State Building and the rest of the city, this place is immaculate. Soft music plays from somewhere farther away, as we’re directed to sit in the living room area while we wait.
Grace’s eyes are wide as she takes everything in. “My gosh, it’s unreal in here, Conway.” There’s nobody around us, at least that I can see, but her voice is still nothing more than a whisper, albeit a loud one. “I’m almost afraid to sit down on the couch because I don’t want to accidentally ruin it.”
Everything in here that I’ve seen so far is in pristine condition. If I didn’t know that I paid an arm and a leg for this surprise, I would probably feel the same. “It’s fine.” I breathe out a laugh, reaching for her hand. “Sit down.”
A long moment later, Grace drops down beside me on the white leather couch, her curious gaze finding mine. “What are we doing here?” she asks, still whispering, the faintest of smiles tugging on her beautiful, full lips. It’s killing her to not know, which makes it all the more fun for me.
Pressing a kiss to her lips, I softly brush my finger over the tip of her nose. “I promise, you’ll find out very soon, baby girl.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in a place this nice before. How much do you think their mortgage is?”
“More than anything I could afford,” I huff out. “That’s for damn sure.”
Swinging her head around, Grace scans the area again before turning back toward me. “God, imagine what the kitchen in a place like this looks like.” There’s awe in her voice that sends a rush of excitement through my veins, but I stay quiet. “Places like this always have the most beautiful kitchens. Imagine baking in one.” Her eyes widen and she groans. “There’s probably more countertop space than I would know what to do with. Top-of-the-line ovens. What a dream.”
My heart is racing, and it has been since the minute we woke up this morning, as nerves squeeze at my throat. Any minute now, they’re going to come get us, then Grace will finally figure out what I’ve planned for her. I know with every fiber of my being she’s going to ecstatic, so I’m not sure where the nerves are coming from. Sure enough, not even five minutes later, the same woman who brought us in here comes back to grab us.
Grace walks slightly ahead of me, looking back more than once in the short walk to where we’re being led, a bright smile on her face and curiosity gleaming in her eyes. Rounding the corner, the enormous and impressive space comes into view, as does the man standing behind the spacious, white marble countertop, greeting us with a smile. Grace stops in her tracks, inhaling a sharp breath, and for a moment, she’s frozen. Stomach in my throat, I can’t hide the smile on my face as I watch her process everything.
The woman excuses herself, leaving just the three of us in the massive kitchen as the man steps away from the counter and strolls over to where we’re standing. Grace is still frozen in place, and I’m not sure if she’s even breathing.
“ Bonjour, madame .” Coming to a stop in front of Grace, he brushes a kiss to each one of her cheeks in the way French people do by way of greeting. Faire la bise , I believe is what it’s called. “I am Louis Auclair, and you must be Grace. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
A choked sound comes out of Grace, a mix between a giggle and a squeal, I think, as she brings her hands up to cup the side of her face. “Yes, I’m Grace,” she offers, and I don’t have to see her expression to know she’s smiling. “Wow, I can’t believe you’re standing in front of me right now. What… What are you doing here?”
“Well, this is my home, dear.” Humor dances in Louis’s gaze.
“Of course. I just…” She giggles nervously. Brushing the hair out of her face, Grace says, “This is just such a surprise. Meeting you and taking your class has been a dream of mine for so many years, and I wasn’t expecting this at all .”
Louis chuckles, his gaze lifting to meet mine as he holds out his hand for me to shake. “ Bonjour monsieur, it’s nice to put a face to the name, Conway.”
Grace whips her head around, gawking at me silently. Her cheeks are flushed, mouth agape. My chest squeezes as our eyes meet briefly before I look back at the man of the hour.
“It’s my pleasure,” I reply warmly with a smile. “Thank you for making this happen on such short notice.”
“As if I could resist such a persistent man,” Louis says, wagging his brow before looking over at Grace. “Your husband here would not take no for an answer. Only the best for you. You’re a lucky woman, my dear.”
My heart nearly beats out of my chest when Grace gives me a smile that feels just for me. Her eyes are wet, the lines around them crinkling, and even though she presses them together, I don’t miss the slight quiver to her lip as she turns away from me, giving her attention to Louis again.
She doesn’t correct him, and neither do I.
The rest of the morning and well into the afternoon, I sit off to the side, watching Grace and Louis work side by side making something called “kouign amann,” which I’m told is a caramelized, buttery, flaky pastry from France that I’ve never heard of, nor can I pronounce. The process is slow going as they make the dough, let it rise, then chill before they can move forward. The entire time they’re working, they’re also talking, laughing, and he’s bestowing his wisdom on her while she takes it all in and asks questions.
Grace, with all her sunshine and southern charm, convinces Louis to turn on her favorite baking playlist, and even has him dancing around the kitchen to Shania and belting out Celine lyrics into wooden spoons with her at one point. This world famous baker, whom Grace looks up to and admires, is enthralled with her, and I’m not even a little bit surprised. It’s heartwarming to witness.
I may not understand anything they’re talking about, but I can’t help but watch Grace in her element. How carefree she looks, how focused she is as Louis tells her about this or that, and how every so often, she’ll glance over at me, cheeks round and pink, her smile wide, with love and glee pouring out of her gaze.
When she’s not looking, I pull my phone out and record them working—and dancing and singing—together, sending the videos to her sisters. They may have only helped pick out the one restaurant for this trip, the rest all my own ideas, but I still let them know everything I had planned, and I swear, they were almost as excited as Grace when I told them about this. I’ll admit, it was no easy feat booking this with Louis. Grace wasn’t lying when she told me about this guy and how he only holds these private classes a few times a year, alternating between New York and Paris. Luckily, I know a guy—someone I’ve worked with on several projects over the years and have developed a solid camaraderie with, who owes me a favor or two—whose wife has all kinds of connections due to her “influencer status”—whatever that means—and she was able to put me in touch with Louis directly.
After about an hour, Grace grabs the dough from the fridge, where it was placed to chill. Turning her head, bright, sparkling eyes find mine. “Come here,” she murmurs softly. My chest swells as I walk over to her and Louis, taking the rolling pin she hands me. “Wanna do the next step?”
“Ah…” Looking from her to Louis, then back to her again, I say, “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to mess up.”
Grace’s gaze softens as she leans over and nudges my arm with her shoulder. “You won’t,” she offers quietly, the look in her eyes making my heart race, with how much care is staring back at me. “I’ll show you what to do.”
As if he can sense my uncertainty, Louis adds, “Don’t worry, monsieur , this is an easy step. Very difficult to mess up.” Gesturing toward the dough, he says, “Give it a try.”
So, I do. And admittedly, it is easy to do. Grace watches me the whole time, a sweet smile tugging the corner of her mouth as her gaze alternates between my face and the dough I’m rolling, while Louis continues to educate us on the pastry and why each step is necessary. Once I’ve got the dough rolled out into a rectangle, I set down the rolling pin as Grace rises to the tips of her toes and rests her hand on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“See,” she breathes softly against my skin. “Told you that you could do it.” When she pulls back, our eyes meet, a smile meant just for me curled on her lips, and my breath catches in my throat. Grace is always beautiful, but right here, in her element, with her hair tied in a messy knot on top of her head and a dusting of flour on her cheek, she’s even more breathtaking.
After I wash my hands, I resume my position across the kitchen, watching as they work side by side. It’s late in the day by the time they wrap up, and after we all sample the pastry—I may not be able to pronounce it, but it sure as hell is good—Louis packs up the rest for us before sending us on our way. Our driver is waiting for us in the parking garage, and the trip across town back to the hotel is quiet—not bad quiet, but comfortable. Thoughtful. If I had to guess, Grace is trying to process the events of today, and every time she peers over at me, I swear she’s on the verge of tears.
Taking the elevator up to our floor, the air between us is crackling. It’s a repeat of yesterday after lunch but, if possible, more intense. I unlock the door to our room, and as soon as we’re inside, Grace shakes out of her jacket, tossing it on the desk haphazardly before closing the distance between us. A dark, heady look flashes in her eye a moment before she jumps onto me, wrapping her legs around my waist as my hands slide over her ass. Her mouth crashes into mine, and I swallow her moans as we devour one another.
Grace is the first to break the kiss. Bringing her hands to my face, she lets out a shaky breath. Moisture fills her eyes, the green of her irises looking even more vibrant than usual, and when she opens her mouth to speak, her voice trembles. “You remembered,” is all she manages to get out before the first tear spills over her lash line.
My throat is tight, heart wild in my chest, as I think back to when this all started, the moment I knew it wasn’t just an attraction I felt toward Grace. To her, in my kitchen, and me, unable to look away. Unable to ignore how comfortable and right it felt having her in my space. To her telling me about Louis and this dream she had—a dream she never thought she’d be able to do.
“Of course, I remembered.”
Her lip shakes again as more tears fall. “Nobody has ever done something like that for me, Conway. Nobody. ” Her words come out cracked as she blinks away more moisture. “But you did. The thought and planning that must’ve gone into this. I—” Words get lost as she smiles, shaking her head as she swallows a few times. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Conway. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Today means more to me than you will ever know. This whole weekend, actually.”
My chest squeezes as I watch her bottom lip quiver before she sinks her teeth into it, gazing at me, misty-eyed, like everything is coming together in her mind.
A small, breathy laugh rolls off her tongue as her eyebrows cinch together. “Nothing you do is ever simple or thoughtless.” Grace’s voice is rough, the emotion shining through each word as she references the conversation we had at the restaurant yesterday. “In fact, every single thing you’ve done for me are actually the most thoughtful things anybody has done for me because they prove just how much you pay attention to me, that you truly see me and hear me for who I am.”
A single tear spills over, falling down her cheek.
“I mean, my god, Conway, you’ve continuously and selflessly shown up for me, and I’ve been too jaded to see it. You’re—” Grace pauses as her voice cracks. Blinking away more tears, she clears her throat before continuing. “You are everything I have always yearned for, but never thought I deserved, Conway. Do you realize that? Every fairytale I ever dreamed about as a kid and everything I cried about wanting in my journal, it’s all you. Wow.” Bringing a hand to her mouth, she lets out a shaky breath.
Grace continues with what appears to be a stream of consciousness being thought out loud, almost more to herself than me. “The one who cared enough to help me years ago at that bar when I was drunk and desperately needed someone. And the way you never held it against me when I was awful and mean to you after I tried to kiss you that same fucking night. Even back then, when I was nothing more than your son’s girlfriend, you showed up for me. You cared, even though nothing was in it for you, and I’ve been too stupid to see what’s been right in front of my face for years .”
A bitter taste sits on the back of my tongue, hearing her say that about herself. Reaching across the table, I squeeze her hand with mine. “There is nothing stupid about you or the way you’ve chosen to protect your heart, Grace. I will not tolerate anybody talking about the woman I love like that, do you hear me?”
Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she nods, moisture spilling over her tear-soaked eyes. My gut twists at seeing Grace cry, and I have to swallow around the emotion rising in my throat a few times before I can keep going.
“I would do anything for you, Grace.” There’s conviction and a world of emotion in my words, and I don’t doubt that we both know how true they are. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do to see you smile the way you did back today. I would move mountains with my bare hands if it meant making your life easier. I love you with every single thing in me, Grace Astor. My love for you is so strong, so natural, so right , I’m not sure how it took this long for me to figure it out, but now that I have, I will never stop making your dreams come true. Never stop doing anything in my power to erase every ounce of doubt or fear or insecurity away from you. You deserve the world. Hell, you deserve the whole universe, and I won’t rest until I give you just that.”
“I know I’ll never be able to take away the scars caused by the hurt and disappointment you’ve been through before me, but that won’t stop me from trying. All I can do is promise to always be a man deserving of your love, to never stop reminding you how special you are, and how getting to love you—unconditionally, faithfully, and without any bounds—for the rest of my life will always be a fucking privilege I will never take lightly. Then maybe eventually those scars on your heart will fade enough that one day you won’t even notice they’re there anymore.”
“How the hell are you real?” Wiping away the tears streaking her cheeks, Grace breathes out a small laugh. “Until now, I was convinced men like you simply didn’t exist unless they were fictional and written by a woman, but my gosh, if you aren’t sitting here proving me wrong.” Pausing for a moment, she brushes her thumb along my cheek softly, reverently, her chin quivering as she lets out another shaky breath, and says, “I love you.”
The feeling starts in my chest, a galloping heart against my ribs, and from there, it spreads like wildfire, setting every inch of my body ablaze, leaving a trail of goosebumps along my flesh as I suddenly struggle to find my voice. Even more so when she says earnestly and with the slightest tremor in her voice, “I’m in love with you, Conway. I know I didn’t say it when you did outside the art gallery, and it wasn’t because I didn’t feel the same, but because I hadn’t fully let myself believe it yet. But I do, Conway. I really fucking love you. I love the man you are. I love your heart, your kindness, your compassion. I love watching you be the best dad to your kids, watching you show up for them no matter what, and knowing that Willow will grow up knowing how it feels to be loved fiercely by a good man, she’ll never have to question how a man should treat her. But also, I love the way I feel when I’m with you, the way your arms feel like home. I love how safe I feel with you. Everything you are, I’m so in love with.”
Pressure stings the back of my eyes, and I can’t hold back any longer. Tears matching hers spill over and cascade down my cheeks as I bring my hand to the back of her neck, the warmth of her soft skin grounding me.
“Grace, for as long as I live, you will never have to wonder, never have to question my love for you, or question your worth, because I plan to spend the rest of my life proving that to you every single day. There aren’t enough words in the world to express how much I truly love you, inside and out, or how much being loved by you means to me. You may test my patience more than anybody I know, with your stubborn self and that smart little mouth of yours”—Grace breathes out a laugh before she chews on her bottom lip—“but you also bring me a happiness and a comfort I’ve never felt before. It’s me who should be thanking you. Lord knows I’ll thank the universe for all of eternity for bringing you to me, for letting me experience your light and love and warmth.”
Her eyes shine, cheeks wet, and I’m sure I look the same. “God, you’re everything, Conway.” Grace drags in a deep breath. “I wish I had more eloquent words to give you after everything you said, but I’m… I’m at a loss for words. I love you, Conway Levine. So much, it feels hard to breathe at times.” Bringing her hands up to my face, she brushes her thumb across my cheek gently.
She leans down, bringing her face to mine, and I gaze into her tear-soaked green eyes for a single moment longer before sealing my mouth to hers. Lips soft and plump, Grace parts them for me, and I swallow her breathy moan as my tongue sweeps inside, rolling against hers. The kiss is sweet and tender; there’s no hurry from either one of us, but the fervor, the sizzling need, is still ever-present. I pour everything into this kiss, professing my love to her all over again, this time in a language only we share.
Walking us deeper into the room, Grace pulls back long enough to tug her shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor, before doing the same to me, one arm at a time since I don’t want to put her down. The affection reflecting back at me has my heart skipping a beat and my throat thick. Once Grace rids me of my shirt, I lower her onto the bed as her hands move to my pants, working the button open and sliding the zipper down, shoving them and my briefs down my thighs. Never once does our eye contact falter. After I work them the rest of the way off, I remove the rest of her clothes until there’s nothing between us.
Without looking away, Grace scoots back on the bed, positioning herself in the center while I follow, blanketing her beautiful body with mine again. A gentle hand on my face, Grace wets her lips with her tongue and swallows before softly breathing out four words that are my undoing.
“Make love to me.”
My heart pounds as my body warms, and I press my body and my lips to hers as she wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. My hand gently brushes down her side before settling on her thigh, squeezing it as her tongue flicks against mine. Like before, the kiss is heated and full of enough passion to make my head spin, but it’s not hurried, each brush of our lips more intentional than the last.
It takes no time at all to get hard, and when I bring my hand between us, fingers running through her slit, I’m not surprised to find her already soaked. A soft, sexy moan rolls off her tongue as I work a finger in, then two, pumping her with them and getting her ready while working her clit with my thumb. Grace’s hips rock up, pussy clenching around my fingers as her nails dig into the back of my neck. Our lips break apart, and I rest my forehead against hers, gazing into her hooded, glassy eyes as her rapid, shallow breathing fans my lips. Brows pinched and her cheeks flushed, she’s close already.
Breathy moans and the sweet, earthy aroma of her arousal fill the air around us while her stomach muscles tighten. Hearing her and watching her get closer and closer to the edge until she can’t hold on any longer sends my blood ablaze. It’s a rush unlike any other, and when Grace finally lets go, clit pulsing and her pussy constricting around my fingers, her eyes roll back until nothing but white is visible, jaw going slack, and she cries out, a throat deep, carnal moan that sends a shiver down my spine and goosebumps all over my body. Hips rocking up, Grace grinds against my hand, riding out the orgasm, while I watch her in awe, my heart in my throat and my dick aching.
Face twisted up in pleasure, taut, round breasts glistening with sweat, and her head thrown back, Grace is breathtaking. My chest squeezes and my throat aches, emotion welling up, as I watch her—watch Grace, the woman I love with every fiber of my being—and it’s overwhelming. Once she comes down, her eyes open, meeting mine, and she smiles up at me. It’s dopey and sated, but it makes my blood heat and my balls throb all the same as I coat my length with her juices. Lining up the tip to her entrance, I hold her gaze, lips so close I can taste her sweet breath, and ease inside her tight, hot channel.
Grace sucks in a sharp inhale as I fully seat myself inside her, and for a moment, I don’t move. I simply relish being so connected to her. Relish the way her eyelids are heavy as they flutter, the way her breath comes out shaky, and the way her tits feel against my chest. And most of all, in the way being with Grace feels so right. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how right she feels beneath me, or in my arms, or in my heart.
Pulling out to the tip, I sink back in slowly, Grace’s breath catching before she lets out a moan that I can feel in my balls. Strokes long and deep, I lose myself in this moment—lose myself in her . The way our bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. Her warmth. The way her pussy gets wetter with each thrust, how it squeezes around me. Her sensual moans, and the way they fuel the fire spreading through my veins. I lose myself in how sex has never just been about sex with Grace. It’s never been just a physical attraction or a means for us to both get off.
Our connection has always been way more than surface level. Everything about Grace—her body, mind, soul—leaves me entranced. In no world could I be anything less than all in with her, and as our bodies roll together, not an inch of space between us, the love we feel for each other rings loud and clear through our slick skin, heavy breathing, needy moans, and the way it feels deep in my chest when she looks at me.
Grace threads her fingers through the hair on the back of my neck, tightening her grip as her other hand rakes down my back and over the swell of my ass, squeezing the meaty flesh as the movements get more shallow and rough. I groan, balls tightening as her walls clench around me and she flicks her tongue out, dragging it across my bottom lip.
“You feel so good,” she moans, desire thick in her voice. “Your big, fat cock stretches me so good, Daddy. I’m so close.”
I press a kiss to her lips, tongue delving in for a taste before I pull back enough to meet her gaze. “Is my good girl going to come all over this cock?”
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, brow creased, and nods, a moan vibrating from her chest.
“You’re so fucking wet, baby girl,” I purr, feeling myself getting close too. Heat spreads down my spine and settles low in my balls as a rush of electricity shoots through my veins. “I love how wet you get for Daddy, how fucking needy you are for my cock.”
A smirk tugs on her lips as she giggles, nails digging into my ass cheek. “Only for you,” she breathes.
“Such a good fucking girl.” Knowing she’s right on the brink, I keep my pace, a growl rumbling in my throat as I clench my jaw, doing my best to hold back my own release, which is rapidly building. “Come on, Sin,” I coax, voice low and gruff. “Give it to Daddy. Come all over my cock, baby girl.”
Her cries become louder and more desperate, her gaze pouring into mine, as I watch the second she shatters. Head thrown back, Grace arches, arms holding me tight as she comes so fucking prettily.
“That’s my girl,” I growl, burying my face in her neck as my own release hits me like a tsunami. My balls are tight and full, and a spark of heat spreads to every corner and crevice in my body like fireworks as my cock throbs as I empty myself in her cunt, thick ropes coating her tight, contracting walls as a guttural groan rips from my chest.
Neither of us makes any attempt at moving for several long minutes. Grace’s fingers gently stroke the strands of hair at my nape as her heartbeat against my chest steadies mine. By the time I roll off her, my dick is spent and body is relaxed. Grace gets up to use the bathroom, curling up beside me when she climbs back in bed. With her head on my chest, she pulls the covers over our bodies, and we stay like that for a while. Until the sun sinks down over the skyline and the day fades into night, I hold her and breathe her in, and think about how blessed I am to have her in my life. How vastly different this feels than any other time, because while Grace may not be the first woman I’ve been with, I know in my heart and soul she will, without a doubt, be the last.
Grace Astor is it for me.
My forever.