Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I wasn’t sure what to do now.
Fighting and recriminations usually started about now. In fact, I was a little afraid to stop holding him. We didn’t know how to do the after .
We kinda sucked at the before too.
We were really amazing at the sex part.
He eased away from me, but for the first time, he didn’t turn away. He cupped my face and kissed me so softly that my vision blurred—again. What the hell was this man doing to me?
I opened my mouth. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but a tentative call of my name killed whatever pseudo-speech I was going to come up with.
“Blake,” I whispered. “Buckle up.”
He frowned down at me, his dark eyes losing that blissful softness. The Billionaire Tight Ass Blake was coming back.
Again, I heard my name being called. “Dammit, Linda.”
His eyebrow quirked. “Who?”
I shoved him back a step and hopped off the table. “Don’t you hear that? Crap. Where’s my shoe?”
“I believe it was digging into my glutes. They should still be on your feet.”
I laughed up at him as I snagged one heel from under the table. “Your ass, Blake. You have my heel prints in your ass.”
“Not the first time, either.”
“Right.” I cleared my throat. “I’m not exactly sure what to say.”
Reserved Blake was taking over. I could see the transformation. He took care of the condom with a flash of linen from his inside pocket, then he tucked it away in his pocket. But instead of a quick fix of his shirt, he slowly buttoned from the middle of his belly up.
I wasn’t quite sure when I’d loosened more buttons. It might have been when I’d turned into a living vine around him. It might have been when I was ripping at his clothes to get him closer.
Those moments had been fueled by insanity.
I stepped into my shoes and shimmied down the skirt of my dress. My pantyhose were destroyed, but it would be a little obvious that I’d gone from black stocking-clad legs to my fair skin.
I just prayed that the runs in the silk would hold out until I could change.
Hmm . I might have another pair in my old desk.
When I noticed that he was almost to his neck with his buttons, and the collar was already flipped up, I stepped into him and stilled his hands and brought them to his sides. Hazel eyes flashed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. I crouched in front of him.
“Fuck.”
I swiped his tie off the floor. On my way back up, I locked eyes with him as I brushed my nose over the front of his pants. He was still semi-hard for me.
When his fingers tightened into fists, I opened my mouth and fanned his rapidly lengthening shaft with my breath.
His muscles locked from thigh to belly and shoulders—all of it was fascinating to watch.
It was because of me. I made him this way, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I didn’t want to let this moment go. I grazed my teeth over his cock, flicking my tongue along the outline of the head before I stood.
I wrapped his tie around my palms, dragging that up his length, as well. I lifted my arms up, letting one of the ends unspool so I could get around his neck. He was incredibly tall, and I was an inch above petite standards.
I draped the tie around his neck, adjusting until the wider end was longer. I’m not sure what it was about tying a tie that made my blood buzz and heat, but it seemed to be even worse when it involved Blake. I kept it simple with a standard Windsor knot. Mostly because of time.
Partly because my fingers were shaking.
The intimacy of it quickened my heart rate. His scent left me lightheaded, but it was his stillness that left me breathless.
As if I was leashing something too wild to tame.
His eyes were mere slits as he allowed me to dress him. Before I pulled the knot up, I buttoned the last one at the top. His bearded skin tickled the back of my fingers. The linen of his shirt was crisp and stiff, but finally, I managed to get the disk through the hole.
I tightened his tie and used the ends to pull him down to me. We watched each other as we kissed. The slow glide of our lips—without the usual crushing bites and sliding tongues—became an exploration.
His hand slid around my hip and coasted up my back. A gentle brush of fingertips up my spine, between my shoulder blades, into the crazy knots of my hair.
Wild sex tended to do that..
I fell into the kiss, closing my eyes as I swayed in his arms. Just as he relaxed into me, the sliding door rattled.
“Grace? Are you in there?”
I groaned. “Phil.”
Gently, he tucked my hair around my ear. “Phil?”
“Philomena Stanwick.”
“Your former employer.”
I squared my shoulders. “Current. You took care of that.”
“Dammit, Grace.”
I rolled my eyes. “My first name is always said in exasperation.”
“Or when I’m coming inside you.”
The flash of heat and anger in his eyes fired me up again. I backed out of his arms. “Don’t.”
His fingers tightened at his sides again. “You don’t like the truth?”
I so didn’t have time for a Blake temper tantrum. It was brewing now—words like truth and consequences were our triggers, after all. I hurried to the door and flicked the lock before sliding the door open an inch. “Sorry, Phil. I was just…”
She looked over my head, then back down at me with a gleeful smile. “Why, Grace.”
“Oh, don’t start.” I pushed her back, following her out into a cloud of Chanel.
She looked over her shoulder at me as I urged her down the small hallway to the Cove Room. “Don’t be embarrassed, dear. You’re single. And I know he is. Boston’s most eligible bachelor. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I sighed. “Because there’s nothing to tell.”
Her eyes widened. “Is that who you were working for?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Why—how? Never mind.”
Of course, Philomena had figured it out.
“Is that why you couldn’t work for him anymore?”
“No. He fired me, remember?”
“So, that he could sleep with you?”
“Oh, my God.” My chin dropped to my chest. “Can we not discuss this? You obviously needed me for something.”
She craned her neck around to look down the hall, but I moved in front of her to block her from going back to where Blake was. “Yes.” Finally, she snapped back into the conversation. “Yes, that lazy little shit Brody isn’t coming with his piece.”
“Phil, why do you keep offering him spots?”
“Because he sells, darling. And he sells big. The stupid child has lost his hunger now that he has money. You’d think he’d want more like the rest of the artists I deal with, but no.”
I rolled my eyes. It was a familiar refrain. I’d kill to be able to sell my work like Brody Nelson did. He wasn’t even twenty and already he had more sales and more ego than artists forty years his senior.
The fairness was in the negative numbers by about a million.
Philomena gave a dramatic wave of her hands over the empty pedestal. “I gave him the best placement, of course. I could rearrange the entire show and make this room a showcase for Robert Singer, but I just don’t have the time.”
I have a piece.
The voice was as loud as a trumpet in my head, but I couldn’t get the words past my lips.
Not ready.
Not ready.
Ready. It was so ready.
Shut up, Negative Nancy voice.
I wrapped my arms around my middle. I never wanted to use my friends as a way to sell my work, least of all Phil, but desperate times…
“I have one.”
Her gaze snapped to mine. “You do?”
I gnawed on my lower lip. Just spit it out, Grace. “Just finished last night, actually.”
“You’ve always sold well in the past. Can you get it here? How big is it?”
My belly fluttered with nerves and hope. “I don’t want to push it on you.”
“Stop.” She placed her hands on my shoulders. “As I said, you’ve always sold well for the gallery. You’re doing me a favor.”
I tipped my head to the side. “Come on, Phil.”
She waved me off and placed her hands on her hips. “What do I have this place for if I can’t help a friend or two? Besides, you’re like a daughter to me. Of course, I want to put your piece in here. I should have thought to do it sooner.”
My eyes prickled. “It’s a little different than my usual stuff.”
Her shrewd hazel eyes lit with interest. “Oh?”
“It’s a bigger piece.”
“Is it a window?”
“No. A sculpture.”
“Then yes, definitely. Can you go get it?”
A wide set of shoulders drew my eyes away from Phil. “I…”
“Do you need someone to help you?”
Blake nodded to me as he strode across the room to the archway. He stopped there and gave me a slow half-smile. Just the corner of his mouth turning up. So very much like the first time I met him.
Then he was gone.
“Grace?”
“What? Oh, yes.” I moved forward and caught Phil’s hands. “I’ll go get it now. Thank you.”
“Well, go ahead.” She squeezed my hands back. “And maybe a new dress? Something less…mangled.”
I could feel the heat blooming in my cheeks. “Right. Of course.”
As Philomena turned around, citron and gold sparkled against her all-black layers. She waved from the doorway. “Off you go, dear.”
I ran back to the frame room, but Blake had erased any proof we’d been in there. In fact, it was too neat.
He’d cleaned off the table, even so far as dumping scraps in the correct recycling bins.
I didn’t know quite what to think about that, so I backed out and closed the door once more. I scooped up my iPad from the empty pedestal and the butterflies returned to nest in my belly.
My sculpture would be there for everyone to see.
Tonight.
Before I lost my nerve, I escaped the Cove Room and dropped the iPad into the charging rack. I pulled out my purse from under the desk and ran into Jax again on the way.
“Where’s the fire, Grace?” He folded his arms. “Actually, looks like the fire has already been put out.”
“Jax.”
He lifted one finger off his forearm. “Hair is a bit wilder, cheeks flushed, and there’s a whole lot less stress in those shoulders.”
“Shut up, Jax.”
He laughed. “I’m jealous. And if it was the same guy who just glowered at me on the way by not five minutes ago, then I’m thinking you need to go for another round. He’s still wound up.”
I blew out an exasperated breath. “We are definitely not discussing this. Where’s Linda?”
He grinned. “In recovery.”
“Oh, God. You didn’t.”
He threw his head back, his chuckle throaty and delighted. “Not that kind of recovery.”
“Never know with you.” I flipped my keys around my fingers and into my palm. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
I turned around at the door, pushing it open with my butt. “To get my future.”