Giving It All (20 page)

“This feels so fucking good,” she groaned, arching her back.

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

He slid slowly out and then pushed quickly back in. Ellie’s head thrashed against the pillows and sweat dampened the hair along her brow. She dug her nails into his shoulders and he relished the sting. His body felt on fire, everywhere they touched, a thousand sparks lit on his skin, burning him with pleasure.

Ellie was beyond words now, her face flushed with desire, her eyes blind with it. Grant picked up the pace, making sure every stroke brushed her clit, driving her higher and higher. Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to hold on a second longer, she clasped him like a vise and exploded beneath him.

He came with a rush that sucked every iota of energy out of him.

“Am I crushing you?” he asked as soon as he regained the power of speech.

“I’ll let you know when I can feel my extremities again.” She ran her hands gently over his back, the motion soothing now that he’d spent himself.

“You can talk, which means you can breathe, so I’m not suffocating you at least.”

“Breathing is overrated.”

She ran her foot down his thigh, and it was only when the sensation abruptly ended that he realized he’d never taken off his foot. He tensed, prepared to get off her, but she tightened her hold on him.

“I can take it off if it bothers you,” he said as neutrally as possible.

“It doesn’t bother me in the least. It’s part of you. I think it might be a little uncomfortable if the battery pack wacked into my shins in the middle of the night, but I only just now noticed it. You had my attention…elsewhere.” She squeezed her inner muscles around his semi-hard dick and he groaned at the almost painful overdose of pleasure.

Relief made him weak. She wasn’t repulsed by him. “I was worried having it on in bed would be like having sex with my shoes on.” He laughed a little ruefully. “It wasn’t.”

“For the record, I wouldn’t care if you had combat boots on in bed if you could make me feel like that again. It was amazing.”

“Boots might do a number on your sheets.”

“I’ve got more.”

He laughed again, which made his cock slip fully out of her. “I better deal with this. Keep my spot warm.”

“Hurry back.”

As he disposed of the condom in the bathroom garbage, he couldn’t help but marvel at the miracle that had brought Ellie into his world. He’d gone from reliving one of the most hellish experiences of his life to having probably some of the best sex of it in less than an hour. A part of him wondered how Ellie would have reacted if she’d been his wife when he’d been blown up. Somehow, he didn’t think she’d leave his hospital room after twenty minutes because seeing him injured was
too hard
.

But would she have acted any differently when he had screaming nightmares? Chastity had already been sleeping in the guest room so she wouldn’t
hurt him accidentally
, but she’d still been terrified by him waking up shouting. He could only imagine how frightening it must be to see someone trapped in a nightmare and not be able to do anything.

“Hey? You taking a shower in there or what? Your side is getting cold and I have to get up for work in a couple hours,” Ellie called out.

Grant shoved aside the doubts. It was about time he got it through his head that Ellie was
not
Chastity, and he couldn’t predict her reactions based on his previous experiences. He used to be good at adapting. It was time to try it again.

He walked back to the room, naked except for the sleeve keeping his prosthesis on. Ellie’s eyes ate him up from his toes to the top of his head and back down again. His cock twitched and she licked her lips.

“How do you feel about doggy style?” he asked, pulling the sheet off her so she was open to his gaze.

“I’ve never tried it, but I’m all about new experiences.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ellie knew Grant was still alive because he texted her daily, but she hadn’t seen him for days. Her work schedule was brutal and he’d been busy with the police and his aunt. Greg had regained consciousness but was still heavily sedated. She didn’t know for sure, but she suspected Grant had tried to get some information out of him anyway.

He’d texted her yesterday saying he’d talked with his old swim buddy who had connections to the DEA and he had the situation under control. Whatever that meant. She just prayed whatever Greg had gotten mixed up in wouldn’t come back on the rest of the Andersons.

God, she missed Grant something fierce. His texts were great, usually short, sometimes funny, and they always sent a jolt of pleasure through her. She found herself re-reading the ones where he described what he wanted to teach her next. Which only got her all worked up and made her miss him more.

Could someone get addicted to sex? Her body craved the pleasure he gave her. Ever since she said she didn’t mind him wearing the prosthesis in bed, he’d been more open with her, staying longer and not flinching every time she touched his scars. He laughed more and retreated less.

And it had her hoping beyond anything sensible that someday he might be able to love her as much as she loved him.

Idiot.

Who had she been trying to fool by telling herself that she could just enjoy a physical relationship with him and then walk away? It was almost laughable how quickly she’d embraced denial. There was no way she’d come through this without a broken heart. And like a junkie, she couldn’t stop going back for more, even though she knew in the end it would hurt her.

The more time she spent with Grant, the more she wanted to spend. Not seeing him this week had been torture, and they’d talked or texted all the time. What was going to happen when it ended and she couldn’t talk to him without it being awkward and uncomfortable?

Don’t borrow trouble.
When it ends, it ends. Why waste the time you have worrying about what’s going to happen later? Enjoy it now.

Absolutely.

There was no way to prevent the pain that would come when Grant ended things, so screw it, she’d enjoy what time she had and let tomorrow take care of itself. Today, she was going to a parade and a picnic and she’d clap her hands raw as Grant rode by.

Ellie put the finishing touches on her makeup and debated her choice of outfit for the fifth time. The black and white polka-dotted sundress was fantastic but not very practical for a picnic on the town green. It had a halter top that made the most of her small bust and the flared skirt flirted around her knees, showing off the length of her legs. Paired with black sandals, it was flattering and comfortable. And would probably be covered with barbeque sauce and grass stains in less than an hour.

But she knew Pansy would be dressed to the nines, showing off her surgically enhanced boobs and wearing heels that could double as ice picks.

It was ridiculous of her to try to compete with Pansy Campbell, or anyone else for that matter. If Grant didn’t want to be with her long-term, no dress, no matter how great, would change his mind. Still, she felt better looking her best when she knew the entire town would be hanging over Grant the second he stepped out of the reviewing stand.

Her phone beeped, signaling an incoming text.

You ready?

Coming now!
she texted back.

She grabbed her camp chair, bowl of pasta salad and a sweater in case it got chilly during the fireworks and headed outside. It felt weird to leave the house without her messenger bag, but Founders’ Day was a big event for Dale, and she’d promised herself she’d take the day off. She still had two weeks until D-day and was actually in good shape, so she wouldn’t feel guilty for enjoying one free day.

Any thoughts of guilt dried up and died when she caught sight of Grant in his dress white uniform. Colorful medals stood out on his chest, and his eyes gleamed from beneath the brim of his hat. He literally took her breath away and she almost stumbled down the stairs.

“Here, let me help you with some of that,” Grant said, taking the chair and the bowl.

“Don’t get olive oil on your shirt.”

Grant smiled and stored the items in the back of his mom’s car. “I’ve gotten worse on this thing. You’d be surprised how many people spill drinks on you when you’re wearing white.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I bet most of them are women and they’re using it as an excuse to touch you when they wipe up the spill.”

“Sometimes. You look beautiful, all pressed and fresh. It makes me want to mess you up a little.” He pulled her into his arms, his blue eyes gleaming hotly like he knew exactly how much seeing him in uniform turned her on.

It was all she could do to stop herself from dragging him upstairs with her right then and there. If his mom hadn’t walked out the door that very second, Ellie probably would have done it too and said to hell with the parade. The slam of the screen door made them spring apart, but Grant kept a hold of her hand.

“Oh, you two look perfect together. Hold on, I want to get a picture.” Mrs. Anderson put a tray of cookies in the trunk and took her phone out of her purse. “Now give me a minute to figure this out again. Oh, here it is. Get a little closer, Grant. There. Smile.”

Ellie smiled, still in a daze from the spell Grant had cast over her with one look. His arm felt right circling her waist, and for a second, she held the illusion they actually were a couple close to her heart.

“Oh, that’s a great picture. I’ll send it to you both.”

“Thanks. I brought Dad’s wheelchair to the green already so your spot is saved, right up front.”

“But how will he get there without his wheelchair?” Ellie asked, confused.

“Watch,” Mrs. Anderson said as Grant disappeared inside the kitchen.

Ellie waited, a little puzzled but unconcerned. After a few minutes, Grant propped the door open and moved back out of the way. Slowly, Mr. Anderson appeared, using a walker one slow step at a time. Grant helped him get the walker over the threshold and then hovered slightly behind and to the right of him, but Mr. Anderson stood straight and tall under his own power.

“Oh my God. He’s walking. He’s actually walking again.” Tears ran down Ellie’s face, ruining the makeup job she’d spent half an hour on, but she didn’t care. She ran up to him and hugged him gently over the walker. “I knew you’d be back, Big Ed.” She kissed his cheek and laughed as she left a smear of lipstick on it.

“It’s coming,” he replied slowly, his eyes shining.

“I’ll bring the car around, you can’t get the walker over the gravel,” Mrs. Anderson said.

“His arm has regained almost eighty percent of function, but his leg is only at fifty percent,” Grant said, still hovering as if waiting for Mr. Anderson to show any signs of faltering. “He gets tired easily.”

“I bet. But he looks great.”

“Y-you too.”

“Stop flirting with my girl, Dad,” Grant teased as he helped his father get into the car.

Ellie stood there like an idiot, stunned at hearing Grant call her his girl. Her heart flipped over in her chest and a rush of warmth filled her from head to tingling toes.

“It’s all right if we take your car, right?” Grant asked, breaking into her daze. “My parents probably aren’t going to be able to stay for long.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course. I’ll go get my car.” Would she always act like a love-sick fool around him?

Probably.

“I’d forgotten how much this thing itches. I think they put extra starch in it the last time it was cleaned,” Grant said as he folded himself into the car.

“It’s worth it. You look hot.”

“That’s because I’m sweating my ass off. Thank God, Founders’ Day is in April and not July, or I’d pass out before I got to the gazebo.”

“I’m sure there’d be a legion of women willing to break your fall. There’s something about a man in uniform that turns anyone with estrogen into mush.”

“You wouldn’t say that if I hadn’t earned warrant officer and got this snazzy uniform. The Cracker Jack look just isn’t attractive.”

“Grant, you could wear a burlap sack and be attractive, now stop fishing for compliments and let me concentrate on driving so I don’t run us into a tree.”

The drive to the staging area was a quick one, and Ellie’s stomach sank as they approached the cluster of people waiting for Grant by the vintage convertible that would be his ride for the parade. She’d gotten used to having him to herself and sharing him with the rest of the town sucked.

“Here we go. Make sure you sit with my folks so I’ll know where to find you afterward.”

“Sure. I promised Mary Ellen I’d help Bill with the kids because she’ll be running around crazy as part of the committee, but I can bring them next to your parents. Your dad is half in love with baby Emily anyway. You should have seen him playing with her the other morning. I can’t believe how much mobility he’s gotten back in the last few weeks. You’ve been good for him.” Why was she babbling again? He had to get ready for the start of the parade and she was running off at the mouth about his father and the baby.

“Here comes Mary Ellen to drag me out on display. I’ll see you at the gazebo.” He leaned over and captured her mouth in a kiss that turned hot fast. “Don’t disappear on me today. I have plans for getting you out of that dress.”

He kissed her again quickly before getting out of the car. Mary Ellen stood by the passenger door with a satisfied smirk on her face as she waited for him to unfold from the tiny front seat.

“Ellie, are you sitting with the Andersons?”

“What? Oh, yes.” Her head was still in a fog from the kiss.

“Good. I’ll tell Bill to look for you there. Little Billy loves parades and probably won’t move an inch, but Hunter…” She let out an exasperated sigh. “It’ll take both my parents and Bill to keep him from running under a fire truck. What did I do to deserve a whirlwind like that?”

“I can think of a few things,” Grant said.

“You just hush and get your fine self over to the car.” She slapped his arm. “Thanks for helping out, Ellie. I’ll make sure Nadya spells you at some point.”

“She’ll have to pry Emily out of my hands. I just love that little angel.”

Mary Ellen smiled with maternal pride. “She is a sweetie. Now move along so I can get Grant where he’s supposed to be.”

Ellie waved goodbye and eased the car out of the way. In the rearview mirror, she saw Grant’s tall form swarmed by men and women alike. She focused her gaze firmly on the road and didn’t try to see if Pansy was part of the mob. For just a second, she let herself feel a touch of smugness that she was the one Grant got naked with, not Pansy with her fake boobs and collagen-injected lips.

“So there,” she said aloud.

After finding a place to park, which was no easy feat, she made her way to where the Andersons were already camped. Nadya Sarov—no, Nadya McBride now—was talking with Mrs. Anderson. Ellie smiled as she joined them. Nadya was smart and had a wry sense of humor that never failed to entertain. She also glowed with the happiness of a newlywed. It was nice to be around someone who was so happy.

“Hey, Ellie, I haven’t seen you since New Year’s. How’re you doing?” Nadya asked.

“Good, busy. This time of year is insane for me. How is the new office working out for you? I love what you’ve done with that old storefront.”

Nadya had opened her own law practice in Canton last fall. It was in the same complex as one of Ellie’s clients, so she had seen it go from a slightly rundown former florist’s shop to a smart-looking law firm.

“Thanks. It took forever to get it renovated, but I like how it turned out. I’m still trying to get the smell of lilies out of it though. Where did you get that dress? It’s adorable. I wish I could pull that off, but wearing polka-dots would be like advertising my big butt.”

“Stop it. I wish I had that problem.” Ellie gave a wistful sigh as she took in Nadya’s curves, accented by the flowing red skirt and white peasant top she wore.

“You look more and more like your momma every time I see you, God rest her soul,” Mrs. Anderson said.

“Probably because I’m wearing her skirt. Nadya laughed. “It’s nice to get out of business suits and pearls, but this is the first time I’ve gone full-on gypsy since I’ve been back.”

Nadya had been a few years ahead of her in school, but Ellie remembered the taunts Nadya had gotten for being one of those
dirty gypsies
. Ellie had been too shy to try to stick up for Nadya then and it had made her feel ashamed. Since Nadya had been back, Ellie had made an effort to be welcoming, even offering to help her with the new business paperwork. It didn’t make up for doing nothing all those years ago, but it made Ellie feel a little better, and she enjoyed going to lunch with Nadya when they had time in their busy schedules.

“Oh, look, here come the Michaels. I can’t wait to see the baby again,” Mrs. Anderson said.

“I guess I can share her with you for a little bit. Maybe.”

“M-me too,” Mr. Anderson said.

Nadya laughed. “Everyone wants the baby, poor Billy and Hunter are like chopped liver now.”

“Auntie Nad! Auntie Nad! We’re going to see fire trucks and police cars and motorcycles and everything.” Little Billy Michaels was five years old and looked like a smaller version of his father. He ran up to Nadya and wrapped his arms around her legs.

“And tonight there’s gonna be fireworks too,” three-year-old Hunter Michaels said, not to be outdone. “I like the big ones that change colors. Daddy said if we behave during the parade, we can get ice cream
before
the picnic. We never get ice cream before lunch.”

Bill Michaels looked frazzled and the parade hadn’t even started yet. Ellie figured by the time they got through the picnic, the sack race and the dance, he’d be sound asleep long before the fireworks went off.

“Here, park that stroller right next to my chair,” Ellie said.

“Thanks. I have the cooler and our chairs in the van, but I couldn’t haul everything in one trip.”

“You can leave the kids with me, I’ve had a lot of experience with active boys,” Mrs. Anderson said as Ellie took the diaper bag from Bill.