State of Grace (12 page)

“He will rip apart,” Sean growled before spasmodically grabbing the sides of her waist, exactly in the places he knew she was ticklish. 

Overly sensitized, aching, and caught completely unaware, she let out a little scream, and pushed from underneath him. They struggled for a brief moment, and he was about to let out a triumphant laugh when he felt her knee dangerously close to a place he was positive they both had a vested interest in, and he rolled in the opposite direction.

Thump!

In horror, she stared at him as he lay on the floor clutching his head and groaning in pain. 

“Oh my God, Sean! Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Oh my God!” Panicked, she flew off the couch and over to her erstwhile lover, who lay in excruciating pain on the floor, one hand clutching his head while the other shielded his face. 

“Let me see,” she commanded softly, trying to move his hand away from the injured area. Stubbornly, his hand refused to budge.

Was that a whimper?

Both mortified and worried, she tried to coax him more gently, softly prying his fingers away from his head before her hand was cloaked in a firm grip. Without warning, she once again found herself beneath his body as an arrogant smirk graced firm lips.

Fury washed through her. “That was juvenile, Sean! I was worried about you!”

He had that familiar wicked look in his eye as he rolled his hips against hers, and she tried valiantly to hold onto her anger, silently cursing her hormones. 

“Aww, Gracie, who knew you cared?” he teased, his baby blues mocking her. She opened her mouth to deliver a suitable retort, but he beat her to it as his mouth crashed down on hers. Anger forgotten, she was helpless as his firm lips coaxed hers, and she mindlessly crashed against the waves he created.

It could have been seconds or minutes before he dragged his mouth away from hers. It was impossible to read his expression as she tried to calm her breathing. “He’s definitely gonna kill me,” he muttered, as he rolled her over him before lifting them both as he sat up. 

He wanted to grin at the confused frustration that marred her pretty face. She was so damn smart, so intent at staying on course and getting her answers, he’d always had to work to throw multiple distractions her way if he wanted any peace. The lush angel cradled in his lap was a far cry from the chubby brat who’d shadowed their every step and tattled with a hint of a misstep. 

“What?” she snapped. 

He noted that she didn’t make a move to exit his embrace.

“Your. Brother. He is going to kill me,” he enunciated slowly, enjoying the way her eyes sparked with his every word. 

“Isn’t that what I already said?” she asked irritably. 

“What do you think he’s going to go for first? Personally, I think your brother’s a vindictive bastard. He’ll cut off my balls before starting to dismember me anywhere else.”

For the first time that day, he lost his erection, but he stifled a laugh at the cringed expression on her face.

“Please don’t say that,” she whispered.

“I know, brat. You’ve developed a fondness for my genitalia. Just think of how I feel?” 

Her nose scrunched up in that way that he’d thought was adorable from the time she was around fifteen or so. Her eyes held a hint of wideness that reminded him of all those times she’d walked in on a conversation between him and her brother—not for her ears.

The laughter slowly faded away from his face as censure slid from hers, and he was about to dip his head again to kiss her before he became aware of a hard object cutting into his hip. Shifting, he pulled the remote out from under them, accidentally un-pausing the movie. Grunts and exclamations from a fight on the television seemed to jolt her out of her daze. 

Her pulse throbbed wildly at the base of her throat, and she swallowed hard, pulling away. Reluctantly, he let her move away, and he hoisted himself back up on the couch. 

“You okay?  Let me get you some ice, some Advil.” 

Ever the nurse, her question was brisk and efficient. 

He rolled his eyes. “You know I’m fine. What’s with the attitude, Gracie?”

She was almost in the kitchen before she whirled around. With an expert eye trained on her face, he noted her chest was heaving, and his gaze almost slipped, but he forced himself to stay on track. 

“I don’t have an attitude,” she said in that tone he knew so well, her nostrils slightly flaring, but her eyes, bright with a sheen that made his throat catch.

“Bullshit, brat,” he called. “I’ve known you since you were five.  What’s wrong?”

Her eyes grew round. “I,” she pointed at herself, “I just slept with 
you.
 And for the umpteenth time. Not to mention, we don’t even like each other. Forget that you’re almost like my brother because you’re almost like brothers with 
my 
brother, but just in case you haven’t noticed, this is wrong.”    

His handsome, chiseled features broke into a smile. 

That couldn’t be good. She held her breath, waiting for his next move. 

“Well,” he began thoughtfully, “if it’s wrong but we’ve already done it umpteen times, then it’s kind of like a sunk cost, isn’t it?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, but she backed up, hitting the counter, as he stalked closer. Both hands gripped the granite behind her as he leaned in, not even an inch separating their faces. 

She whimpered in distress, but if anything, he just got even closer.

“So what do you say we make it umpteen plus one?”

Helpless against the pull he had on her, she figured maybe one more time wouldn’t hurt. She tipped her chin up, and her lips closed the distance between them.

“Okay,” she breathed.

Chapter Six

Two months later 

“Is that a hickey? Oh my God, it is.” Leah sounded scandalized as she stage-whispered her revelation to Grace from across the salad bar on Monday.

“Leah,” Grace hissed. “Discretion please!” She quickly glanced to see if anyone had overheard.

Leah looked at her wryly. “You’re the one walking around with a hickey the size of Texas on your neck, and you’re talking to me about discretion?” She flounced off to grab a bottle of juice from the cooler.

Grace shook her head in confusion. She wasn’t sure how anyone managed to flounce in anything that wasn’t a petticoat and crinoline, however, Leah managed to do it and in scrubs with a Spongebob Squarepants pattern, no less.

After paying, she settled into their usual table. Leah was over her momentary snit, and was happily scarfing down spaghetti. Another point of confusion for Grace. Leah couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, yet the girl seemed to have the appetite of a linebacker and the metabolism of the Energizer Bunny.

Grace smiled gently at her friend. Leah was a little scatterbrained, more than a little fanciful, and was definitely a drama queen, but Grace could tell she had a good heart. Hoping for silence, she forked her salad into her mouth, her mind drifting off into the weekend.

She quelled a shiver as Sean invaded her mind. The last two months had been intense. Her fear had come true.

She was addicted to him. 

And even though they still argued, and she gave as good as she got, it had dissolved into an easy banter. He wasn’t so hard to take when he was antagonizing her any more, but that was probably because she’d let him do anything to her always eager, willing body. Just that past Friday night, she happened to let it slip that he was the first person she’d ever had sex with in her apartment. He’d wickedly insisted on christening every single room, and if she’d had enough space in her closet, he probably would have done her there, too. She’d spent the entire weekend in a sex-induced haze. He’d finally left her alone that morning, when they both had to get ready for work.

Grace thought it was a sheer act of God that she was able to even walk. Even hours later, the unfamiliar, tell-tale sign of soreness between her thighs made her blush. 

After a few minutes of eating, she gave Leah a sharp look. She'd stopped inhaling her spaghetti and was peering at Grace curiously.

Grace narrowed her eyes. It was unlike Leah to
not
ramble on senselessly when her mouth wasn't full of food. "What?" she questioned cautiously.

She was met with a sly, knowing look. "Are you going to thank me?"

Fully aware of exactly where this was going, Grace crammed a huge chunk of tomato into her mouth. "For what?" she mumbled, mouth full.

Leah sighed patiently. "Exhibit A: the hickey that looks like the fifty-first state. Exhibit B: you've completely forgotten to ream me for my earlier lack of 'discretion,'" she punctuated the last part with air quotes for effect.

"So?"

"Exhibit C: your face hasn't had that annoyed, pinched look in two months, Exhibit D: you're walking kinda funny, Exh—”

Grace's face went up in flames. "Stop!" she almost yelled.

Leah smiled smugly.

"So you admit it …"

"I'm not admitting to anything."

Undeterred, Leah shoved her plate of pasta aside and propped her pixie chin up on her fist. "Is he good?" she asked dreamily. “He is incredibly hot, my friend. That is what you call a man.”

Grace decided on another tactic. “Are you still dating poor Patrick?  You’re going to send the poor man into the psych ward if you don’t stop giving him mixed signals.”

Leah rolled her eyes. “I just like the companionship.” She pointed at herself. “Patrick,” she continued, pointing to an obscure floor in the hospital building, “just likes to be around me. He’s nice to me and helps me out when I need a break. Last year, he squeezed in an extra vacation day for me. I flirt with him, spend some time with him, and he occasionally does me favors. I don’t really like him like that. We just don’t click.” She shrugged.

“So that night you left me stranded at a bar so you could go home with some guy that you don’t like ‘like that,’” Grace asked incredulously.

“Number one, I didn’t ‘go home with Patrick.’ He slept on the couch until his roommate was done with his bimbo. Number two, the only reason I did it was to help a sista’ out. I gave you the perfect reason to go home with him.” Leah looked incredibly satisfied with herself.

Grace shook her head in disbelief, but then Leah continued on. “Anyway, stop trying to deflect attention off of yourself. I wasn’t too drunk to notice he had big hands … does that mean what I think it does?” she asked wickedly.

Ordinarily, Grace knew she would have been incredibly pissed. She would have ripped into Leah for not respecting boundaries, but strangely enough, she wasn’t riled. Perhaps she was just too content from all the action she was getting. 

“What do you think?” she winked.

Leah was scandalized. She leaned forward. “Really?”

Grace raised her eyebrows in response.

“Wow,” she breathed. Grace had no idea why Leah was so shocked by a simple male appendage. After all, it seemed as if Leah had dated all of the single, hetero men who worked at the hospital. She’d even told Grace a story of one that she dated that later came out of the closet.

Happy that Leah seemed momentarily occupied by thinking of Sean’s size, Grace peeled open the lid to a container of fruit and speared a berry.

“Does he have a brother?” she asked enviously.

Grace twisted her lips. “Yes, and he’s married to a man.”

Her face fell, then furrowed in deep thought. “Grace?”

She managed a “Hmm?” in response, mouth full of grapes.

“So …
your
brother? What’s he going to say when he finds out you’re boinking his best friend?”

The smile slowly faded from her face as reality once against doused her. Leah’s question had repeated itself throughout her mind every day for the last two months. She didn’t need to be reminded.

Despite the overwhelming panic the question evoked, it still hadn’t stopped them from seeing each other. She wasn’t quite sure how exactly it had happened, but every waking moment they weren’t at work, they were together. After that first night he’d spent at her apartment, she’d kicked him out late in the afternoon. Later on that evening, as she had picked up the phone to order take-out, her doorbell rang. She opened her door to find Sean standing out in the breezeway, his arms loaded with paper grocery bags. Against her better judgment, her hunger had won, and she’d let him into the apartment.

And that had been the beginning.

The beginning of amazing, toe-curling sex, more orgasms than she’d ever thought she would have in her lifetime, home-cooked gourmet meals, and the most confusing non-relationship she’d ever had.

The last two months had consisted of them eating, sleeping, sleeping together, and talking about everything except what was happening … and even though they hadn’t talked about it, she was pretty sure he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else. She wasn’t sure where he’d find the time, and she sure as hell wasn’t.

One day they’d been in the kitchen unpacking groceries he’d brought to make dinner that night, and she pulled out a toothbrush and a razor. When she paused in the midst of rustling through the bags, and he saw what she was holding in her hands, he’d simply shrugged.