Divine Grace (59 page)

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When he released her, she said, “When you look through all the stack of pictures in your boxes, Adam and Jack, you will find nudes and partial nudes I had shot for you as well. Thank Charity for those because otherwise I don’t think I’d have had the nerve to do them. I’m glad you like them so much. It’s my wedding gift to you.”

“We have a surprise for you, too, darlin’. Why don’t you come upstairs with us now? We’ll bring the boxes. We can look at the rest later. But right now we have something we want to show you.” Jack took her hand and led her up the stairs. She shook with excitement, ready to see her new mistress suite. At the bedroom door, he turned to her and smiled. “Hope you like it, darlin’,” he murmured, opening the door.

The suite was everything she imagined it would be and
more
. All the pieces of furniture, including the gigantic, beautiful canopy bed, were there.

So were the wardrobe, the rocking chair, and the dresser and mirror. She gasped when she saw there were numerous other pieces in the room as well.

A bench upholstered to match the bed linens. An entertainment armoire, a chest of drawers, a cedar chest, a lingerie chest, not one but
two
freestanding mirrors. There was a small round table situated among the chairs and chaise lounge in the sitting area in front of the fireplace. They led her to the

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doorway, and she got her first look at the finished bathroom with its huge rosy pink tub and giant steam shower. The cut-glass vanity basins sparkled under the lights from the crystal light fixtures.

“Did Wesley build all those extra pieces of furniture for me?”

Jack grinned knowingly. “Yes, darlin’, they were
part
of our wedding gift for you.”

“Part? What else did y’all do?” she asked curiously.

“Come back in the other room. Have a closer look at the walls. Wesley made all your frames for you. You should see them.” Jack drew her attention to the frames.

She gasped and whimpered with unrestrained joy when she saw the framed photographs on the walls. Each large portrait had its own place throughout the room, set in a frame that Wesley made for her at her request and the photographer’s size specifications.

By the door was a portrait of Jack, out in the corral by the first barn, a coil of rope in his gloved hands. He was shirtless in the black and white print, wearing blue jeans, chaps and cowboys boots. He had his summer straw cowboy hat on, and his chest glistened with sweat. He was looking down at the coil of rope, but there was a faint smile on his face as though he knew she was looking at him. The sunlight struck his skin in such a way that every muscle stood out in relief, his muscled abdomen and the cut of his hips above the chaps and jeans especially pleasing to her eye. She could make out a trail of sweat running down that hardened abdomen into the waist of his blue jeans. Languir was beside him in the portrait as if he were waiting for Jack to jump on his back. She licked her lips thinking how much she might have liked to lick that trail of sweat off his abs.

She moved to Ethan’s portrait next. He was posed in shadow, sitting on top of a stack of hay bales, slouching against the outside wall of the barn.

His hat lay beside him on the hay bale. Ethan was shirtless as well in the portrait, running his hands through his shoulder length brown hair. The scar from his gunshot wound was slightly visible on his shoulder. The rippling muscles in his biceps stood out in sharp relief, his chest and abs another work of art, glistening with sweat. She noticed the button on his jeans was undone. He looked directly into the camera, gazing back at her with bedroom eyes. She grew wet just looking into those eyes.

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In Adam’s portrait, he was in action, walking through barn, down the row of stalls, leading Esperer and Coraggio, the newly named colt, toward the camera. Continuing the theme, he was shirtless, too, which was a good thing. His great broad chest glistened with sweat as sunlight shone in on him through the skylights in the barn. He was wearing faded jeans and dusty cowboy boots. She blushed, noticing the faintest outline of his erection through the jeans. The sunlight illuminated his eyes, making them appear to glow. He had a soft smile on his lips as he gazed beyond the camera with a faraway look in his eyes. He had the look of a man in love, thinking about his woman.

“Charity orchestrated this
whole
deal with Carrie and Raquel,” Grace said, gazing again at the portraits of her handsome men. “She used the bridal portrait as a means to get all of us to the photographer to have these portraits done. That sneaky girl, I love her even more! When did you do these?”

“The morning of your first shopping trip with Charity, Carrie’s partner, Raquel, came out and shot us. The same morning you had yours done.”

Grace just chuckled and shook her head. Her sister was an evil genius.

Jack handed her a carved wooden box of her own. She held the box in her hands and opened it, blushing as she removed the stack of prints—a thick stack of other pictures of the three of them, some extra shots, others too intimate to display on the wall. Merciful heavens, her men were
hot
! The fiery stirrings of desire pounded in her heart as she looked through the images.

There was a shot of Ethan, his hair slicked back with water dripping from it, dumping water from a bucket over his head at the tap outside the barn. His blue jeans were partially soaked, the water caught in action sluicing down his chest and torso. The sunlight illuminated the water as it fell, each droplet sparkling. In this one, his blue jeans were still unbuttoned, the zipper partially down, and she could just barely tell he was commando.

Because the blue jeans were wet, she could see the partial outline of his cock through the faded denim, erect. She gasped, putting her fingertips to her lips.

There was a back shot of Adam grooming Esperer. His broad, tanned, muscled back was lit so that every muscle stood out in sharp relief, his arms widespread over Esperer’s back as he brushed him. His short hair was damp with sweat. The faded denim jeans he wore cupped his ass and the backs of his thighs, clinging to the hard muscles beneath. She felt her pussy quiver,

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imagining those muscles rippling and flexing as he thrust into her, making sweet love to her, and she felt a little damper between her legs. She had to close her eyes and draw a shaky breath before moving to the next picture.

In this picture, Jack was in one of the horse stalls, light pouring in through one of the barn skylights shining down on his muscled shoulders.

He looked out a window so that his face was also lit from under his straw hat, highlighting the beard stubble on his jaw. His lips were unsmiling in this picture, but there was peacefulness about his features. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leaned a hip against the feed trough near the window. The sunlight drew attention to the hard muscles in his chest, shoulders, and arms. His jeans rode low on his hips, and because he was turned in partial profile, she could make out the large bulge at his groin. Her fingertips touched the photograph, savoring every inch of him.

“I was thinking of you, wanting you, when she took that picture.” Jack’s hand trailed down her spine, causing her to shudder and gasp, gazing at him momentarily. The hunger of desire had to be obvious in her eyes.

There were photos of them in the ranch house, too. There was one of Ethan reclining on his made-up bed, his hand splayed out on the mattress, like he wished she was in that spot. His left forearm was tucked behind his head, his long hair fanned out over his shoulders and collarbones, his bedroom eyes looking directly into the camera lens.

There was a photo of Adam working in the mistress suite while it was still under construction, a tool belt on his hips, wearing faded jeans and a tight white T-shirt. He had a hammer in one hand, a two by four in the other.

He was looking directly into the camera lens in this shot. Standing by an open window, the light caught his eyes, illuminating them and making them appear to glow as he looked into the camera.

There was a shot of Jack sitting at his drafting table, his bare feet propped up on a side table, crossed at the ankles. He was wearing denim work clothes. The shirt was completely unbuttoned and open a bit, showing his muscled chest. What she loved about this photo were his hands. One was resting on the drafting table. The other was propped on the arm of his desk chair, holding a mechanical pencil between his fingers as though he had just stopped what he was doing to look up at her. His hands were rugged and callused—working man hands. That was something she loved about all of them. There wasn’t a soft palm in the lot. He wore a crooked grin, and she
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blushed, having a good idea what he was thinking in this picture. With his ankles crossed and propped up, it was obvious his thoughts were communicating with other parts of his body as well, if the semi-erect bulge at the juncture of his thighs was any indicator.

There were similar shots taken all over the house and ranch. There was a shot of Ethan, reclining on the glider, his hat pulled down to cover part of his face, as if he was napping. Even napping, he was sexy as hell. There was one of Adam with Coraggio in the corral with his mother. There was a shot of Jack lifting Grace’s saddle onto one of the sweet mares they kept for riding on the ranch, like he was preparing to take her for a ride. Near the bottom, she found several sexy shots.

“Before you look at any of those, honey, you need to know we were not totally nude in any of them,” Ethan said quickly. “Raquel positioned us and shot them so that it would look that way. I know I’m probably spoiling the illusion for you, but I didn’t want you to think for even a second that we were parading around here naked with a single woman shooting our pictures.”

“Thanks for telling me, Ethan.”

“I had on my running shorts,” he said, pointing at the image she was looking at. It was a shot of Ethan, lying down, the light streaming in through the window over his king-sized bed. The sheets were tangled and twisted, and the bed looked as though she had just risen from it, like he wasn’t alone in the room. The sheets were draped artfully over his hips and groin but showed a bare thigh and calf and foot. All of them had such sexy, manly feet. His eyes were closed in that shot as though he were falling asleep after making love to her. If he hadn’t told her, she’d have assumed he was naked under the sheet.

“And I had on my swimming trunks,” Adam said as she moved on to the picture of him fresh from the shower, his hair still damp, as he reclined on the king-size bed in his bedroom, his hips wrapped in a towel. Adam was so large that even with the swim trunks on underneath the towel, it wasn’t hard to tell what was on his mind as he smirked for the camera.

In his shot, Jack reclined on the couch, a thick, soft throw blanket draped over his “nudity.” One arm was under his head on the arm of the couch, and the other was draped across his torso, one knee up, and the other cocked to the side facing the camera. He looked relaxed in the photo, his

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trademark playful grin on his face. The look in his eyes was an invitation for her to climb on top.

“There is a pair of running shorts under that throw, darlin’.”

“Thank you for telling me. I wish I were different, but I would have been upset later thinking that you might have been totally nude in these shots with Raquel in the room.”

“Don’t apologize for the way you are, darlin’. We’re every bit as territorial about you. The only difference is that it was a woman shooting your portraits. We’d have felt the same way if a man had been shooting you in the nude.”

“And you
know
I was really
nude,
” she said in a sexy seductive voice.

“Although Jack and Adam still haven’t seen theirs.”

They quickly opened their keepsake boxes, looked through the shots, and found the nudes she’d done for each of them. Grace knew Jack had found his when she heard the sudden inhalation from him.

In the nude she’d posed in for Jack, she was lying back in the four poster bed. The camera lens was almost level with the surface of the mattress on her right. Her right thigh was up, her leg bent at the knee, and tilted in just a bit. Her left leg was stretched out straight in front of her. Her right arm was positioned above her head, and her blonde locks were fanned out over the pillow in wild disarray. Her right arm in that position tilted her breasts up more than they already were because her back was slightly arched. Judging by his reaction, the real kicker for Jack was that her left forearm was draped over her hip, her hand positioned over the blond curls at her mound.

Her fingertips reached for what lay just beneath those curls. Her middle and index fingers were not visible to the camera, allowing him to assume they might have found their destination. Judging by her slightly parted lips and half closed eyes, she probably had. He looked up at her with respect and admiration in his eyes.

“This is something I will cherish my entire life, darlin’. I’ll guard this image, I promise. I know it wasn’t easy for you to get in the proper mindset to shoot this beautiful picture, but you did it for me.” He kissed her and shared the image with Adam and Ethan.

“Hot. Holy. Hell,” Adam muttered, before showing Ethan. Both of them were wide-eyed.

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Ethan growled. “Damn, honey! You are fucking hot!”

“What about yours, Adam?” Grace giggled, having a feeling she was about to have her bones jumped.