The Name of the Game (24 page)

She grew hot. Restless. Her breath quickened.

The kiss changed, transformed. Softness gave way to urgency.

Her body ached. It had been too long. She shifted, opening her legs. He slid between her splayed thighs. She gripped his lean hips and rocked into his straining erection. He groaned low in his throat. The ridge of his jeans pressed deliciously against her clit with the most exquisite friction. Even with the fabric separating them, she could feel him everywhere.

His fingers tightened around her wrists as he somehow deepened the kiss even further.

His tongue stroked hers, mimicking the rhythm of their questing hips.

The air between them grew thick and humid, their breathing turning to panting.

Their hips ground together in slow, maddening circles.

He licked down her neck before biting her collarbone. He pushed up her top and unhooked her bra with a deftness no sixteen-year-old could ever manage, but she didn't bother to correct his technique. Not when she was so desperate for his touch she couldn't think. Couldn't even speak.

He circled her nipple, and then gently rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. Soft, maddening touches that enflamed her desire. He took one nipple in his mouth, rasping his teeth along the hard, sensitive peak. She cried out, tangling her fingers in his hair to keep him closer.

He was relentless. He played with her nipples, licking, biting, and sucking.

Back and forth.

Over and over.

Until she was crazy.

Their hips turned more insistent. More demanding.

His teeth sank down and she bowed up, unable to keep silent any longer. “James, God, I need you so bad.”

A whisper against her skin. “I need you too, Gracie.”

They were the best words anyone had ever spoken to her because she believed them. Deep down where it mattered most, she believed.

She reached for his hips, arching into him. “I'm so close. You make me so crazy.”

He groaned. “Let me make you come. I've been listening for weeks, I need to feel it.”

He slid his hand down her leg, his fingers brushing the curve of her panties.

She pushed him away. “You promised, no touching.”

He looked at her, his green eyes hot on hers. “You have to be kidding.”

“I'm not.” It would kill her, but she was doing this.

A low rumble from deep in his throat.

“Don't make me go home. I'm a good girl.”

He nipped at her bottom lip. “You're killing me.”

She pushed at his chest. “Sit up.”

With a deep sigh he did what she asked. As soon as he was settled she climbed up onto his lap, straddling him. She circled her hips as she scraped her teeth over his neck. “Where were we?”

Their lips met but this was no slow, easy kiss. They went at it, raw and dirty, putting teenagers everywhere to shame. The air turned hot as their breath mingled in ragged pants.

He gripped her ass, rocking together in a pounding rhythm.

She yanked his shirt over his head, leaning in so her breasts brushed his chest. Sensation keening through her as the oversensitive buds raked across his skin.

He surged up. Head falling back as he hissed. His muscles corded and straining. “Fuck.”

She lowered her head and bit his nipple, laving his roughened flesh with her tongue.

With a guttural moan he gripped her pigtails, wrapping them around his fists and pulling her closer. The back of her neck pricked with pain, morphing instantly into pleasure.

Their mouths fused in a hungry kiss and she couldn't help it. She was crazed. It was almost the end of the movie. She reached for the button on his jeans.

She unzipped his pants and slid her fingers into his boxer briefs, stroking his erection. She whispered in his ear, “I've been dreaming about your cock and how I wanted to get on my knees and lick you all over.”

“Jesus. We're done.” He flipped her over, ridding her of her panties in one swoop.

Just as frantic, she pushed his jeans past his hips.

His shaft pressed flush against her wet center. She jerked and cried out as the head brushed over her clit.

He grunted and spread her open, sliding his erection up and down her slick opening.

Her back bowed. “Yes, God yes.”

He pushed her breasts together, rolling her nipples, sucking first one then the other into his mouth as his cock teased her in the most unmerciful way.

The pleasure was excruciating.

His mouth wet the hard buds. His fingers plucked. And pinched. His tongue flicked over the sensitive peaks while his erection dragged across slick, swollen flesh.

She went wild. Crazed as she lost all sense of reality.

Her body surged.

Tighter. Deeper. Harder.

She burst.

The orgasm stormed through her in violent, crashing waves of bliss. One powerful contraction after another swept through her.

And then he was in her, filling her.

It was so right. So perfect. She raked her hands over his back, down to his ass, where she clutched at him. Needing to feel utterly possessed by him. “Harder. James. Take me.”

On a groan, she witnessed something she'd never believed she would.

Professor James Donovan lost control.

On a low growl he thrust hard, overwhelming her.

A mad rush of crazy, frenzied passion. They were like animals. Her muscles shook uncontrollably as she came again and again as he drove relentlessly inside her. He fucked her unmercifully.

Pounded fast into her.

Demanding.

Taking her. Possessing her.

He bit her neck, hard. Another orgasm erupted. She splintered, shattered into a million tiny pieces of pure pleasure as she came harder than she ever had in her life.

He followed, coming on a loud roar as he pumped furiously inside her.

Her chest tightened as emotions swelled in time with the pounding of her heart as the aftershocks set off waves of sensation that rolled through her.

He collapsed on top of her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They were sweaty, their breathing fast and shallow.

She managed to pant out, “You've ruined me forever.”

“Good,” he whispered against her ear. “Your chastity pledge.”

She laughed. “This is how all good chastity pledges end, naked on a boy's couch, your panties tossed to the floor.”

He lifted his head and he gave her that smile—that heartbreaking, dimpled smile—and panic raced through her blood. She was in so much trouble. “James.”

His green eyes softened. “I know, Gracie.”

“You do?”
Please let it be true.

He nodded, and cupped her jaw. “I feel it too.”

That seemed to be enough for now because she once again settled into his arms, content to let everything else melt away.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Uncle James!” Two girls with identical blond hair ran up to James, throwing their tiny arms around his legs in sheer delight.

Gracie's heart did a strange little thump at the sight and melted into a puddle of goo. An occurrence that seemed to happen at an alarming rate around him. Every moment she spent with James she fell a little bit harder, a little bit deeper. She was terrified, but nothing would get in the way of enjoying this weekend. Not when they had so little time together.

James leaned down and hugged the twins. “How are my girls?”

They beamed twin smiles, looking at him like he hung the moon.

One little girl said, “Lizzy likes a boy.”

Lizzy scowled at her sister. “I do not!”

“Now what did I tell you girls about boys?” James asked, his tone serious but his mouth curved in amusement.

“They're icky,” the twins parroted together.

“Right.”

Lizzy planted her hands on little hips. “I don't like a boy. I'm just going to marry him.”

Gracie laughed and the two girls looked at her with big brown eyes.

James straightened. “Elizabeth and Emma, this is my friend Gracie.”

Gracie held out her hand for the girls to shake. “Hi. Thanks for inviting me over today.”

Tiny fingers slipped into hers and the barest whisper of an image she refused to let take hold, flitted into her mind.

One of the girls asked, “Are you Uncle James's girlfriend?”

The question stumped her. She had no idea how to answer. “Umm . . .” She turned to James, hoping for a rescue, only to find him watching her with an interested expression.

She stared at him.

He stared right back.

She licked her lips.

He quirked a brow.

Jane came bounding down the stairs and Gracie was saved.

She smiled at Gracie before giving her daughters a stern look. “Girls, aren't you supposed to wait for an adult to open the door?”

Emma pointed at James. “But it's Uncle James.”

Jane sighed. “You still wait. Remember.”

The twins nodded. “Okay, Mommy.”

“Good enough.” Jane turned and before Gracie could speak, the other woman pulled her into a big hug. “I'm so glad you made it, I was worried James was going to keep you to himself forever.”

Gracie flushed, although she didn't know why. Maybe because the last time she'd met Jane the woman had witnessed the marks up and down James's back.

Marks she'd put there again last night.

And she'd been marked just as thoroughly in their insatiable quest to satisfy a hunger that seemed to know no bounds. It was like he'd crawled inside her, leaving her near desperate for him all the time. She wasn't even exaggerating; she'd take him in the bathroom right now if she could. It didn't matter how many times they'd already had sex.

Pulling her thoughts away from bed and James, she smiled warmly at her hostess. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Jane waved them in. “Come on, let's go in the kitchen. Anne is dying to meet you.”

The twins ran down the hall, skipping ahead of them in their adorable little matching jeans with butterflies embroidered down the sides. The only way Gracie could tell them apart was one wore a turquoise top and the other purple.

James rolled his eyes at Gracie. “I'll apologize now.”

Jane rolled her eyes right back. “Don't let him scare you, we're actually quite nice.”

James sighed and took Gracie's hand as they walked down a corridor in the updated brick townhome. Nerves danced in her stomach, surprising her. She wasn't prone to nerves, but then again, meeting James's friends mattered to her. She wanted them to like her.

They walked into an open, modern kitchen with black cabinets, vintage red appliances, and gray marble countertops. It had to be the most adorable kitchen Gracie had ever seen and she loved it immediately. A cute, very petite strawberry blonde bounced around, singing along as Dusty Springfield's “Son of a Preacher Man” played over speakers.

When she spotted Gracie she let out a squeal. “She's finally here!”

Gracie held out the box of cupcakes she'd made, an assortment of her favorites, as she hadn't known what the women might like. “Thank you for having me. These are for you.”

Anne grabbed the box and peered at it with a worshipful expression on her face. “You baked.”

Gracie laughed, captivated by the woman. “Of course, it's kind of my thing.”

“I had the protein bars you made for James and the cake you made for the engagement party. They were to die for.” Anne slid the box onto the countertop and pouted at her significant other. “And you know how it is with these health-food freaks, you can't have anything good in the house or they start going on about carbs and calories.”

Gracie experienced a kind of divine, instant kinship with the other woman. “I know just what you mean. It's so annoying.”

James pinched her. “Hey, I've been on my best behavior. We got pizza last night.”

Gracie couldn't help the smile that spread over her lips and she could only imagine how telling her expression was. “Vegetable pizza with light cheese.”

James slid an arm around her waist. “It was a compromise. If it was up to me I would have gotten a salad. And let me remind you, I ate three cupcakes.”

Gracie shook her head and looked imploringly at Anne. “He had to run, like, ten miles this morning to make up for it.”

“God, I know. Give me a nice walk on the lakeshore any day, but all that running. Blah,” Anne said.

Gracie laughed. “Amen, sister.”

“Oh no, there's another one.” Jane sighed.

Anne clapped. “Now at least it can be a tie. Thank you, Gracie. After all these years I'm finally a contender.”

Gracie wondered about James's other girlfriends who had wandered through this door, and figured they'd probably sided with James and Jane. A mental image of the beautiful Lindsey Lord flashed through her mind, setting off an unwelcome stab of irrational jealousy. That woman had exercise fanatic written all over her.

One of the twins, although Gracie didn't know which one, tugged on Anne's tunic top. “Momma, let's dance.”

Side by side the girls were the spitting image of Anne, and it occurred to Gracie she had to be their biological mother.

Anne ruffled her hair. “Not now, sweetie pie, I'm cooking for our guest. You and Lizzy go watch Dora. We'll eat soon, then we can dance.”

Emma glanced expectantly at Gracie. “Will you dance too?”

“I'd love to,” Gracie said.

The twin in the purple, Lizzy, said, “We take ballet.”

Very serious, Gracie nodded. “Do you have recitals? With pretty costumes?”

They nodded in unison.

Anne pointed toward the living room. “Girls, you can grill Gracie later. Let the grown-ups talk.”

The twins exchanged glances before skipping off to the couch to watch an animated show playing on the television.

Gracie smiled at the two women. “Your girls are adorable.” Gracie wasn't sure of the proper protocol, but she figured she'd say what she'd say to any parent when she met their kids. She shifted her attention to Anne. “They look just like you.”

Anne's light blue eyes twinkled. “Yeah, they do. If you saw a baby picture of me, you'd think I was their sister.”

“It's hard being the lone brunette in the family,” Jane said, walking over to the cabinet. “What can I get you to drink, Gracie? Do you like mimosas?”

“Doesn't everyone? Thanks,” Gracie said.

“See, I knew I was going to like you,” Anne said, waving at the chairs surrounding the kitchen island. “Sit down, make yourself comfortable.”

James and Gracie slid onto the bar chairs as Jane got champagne glasses and grabbed a pitcher from the fridge.

Gracie asked, “Can I do anything?”

Jane shook her head. “Not a thing.”

A timer went off and Anne peered into the oven before resetting the timer. “Still not done.” She turned to Gracie. “I'm so glad to finally meet you. You've been driving poor James here crazy for months.”

James groaned and shook his head, looking up at the ceiling.

Intrigued, Gracie grinned. “Really now?”

“Really. I thought you were going to give the poor boy a heart attack. I mean, I can't blame him, as you're obviously spectacular.”

“Thank you,” Gracie said, warmed by the compliment.

Jane shook a finger at Anne. “No flirting.” She shifted her attention to Gracie. “She's got a bit of a crush on you.”

James laughed, and put his arm along the back of Gracie's chair. “Anne has plans to seduce you.”

Anne winked at Gracie. “Just once. You don't mind, do you?”

Well, this was a strange conversation. And here she'd thought James's friends would be all stuffy and proper. Like most things regarding James, she'd been wrong; they'd fit right in with their group in Revival, who didn't know how to keep an inappropriate thought in their head. Herself included. She smiled. “Not at all. I'm flattered.”

“See,” Anne said, grabbing a spatula and waving it at Jane. “She doesn't mind at all. I mean, please, we'd be hard-pressed to find someone who doesn't want to sleep with her.”

James curled a hand around Gracie's neck and leaned in close. “She's got a point.”

“That I do,” Anne said, flashing a wide, playful smile at Gracie. “You don't happen to like girls too, do you?”

She laughed, charmed and happy, liking and understanding the other woman's more forward nature. “I'm sure I could work up a little bi-curiosity for you.”

James groaned. “Don't encourage her.”

Gracie grinned at him, falling into his amused evergreen eyes. “I'm being entirely truthful.”

“Ha!” Anne exclaimed. “So, now all we need to do is convince these two.”

At the exact same time Jane and James said, “No.”

Anne's expression turned hopeful. “Orgy?”

Her partner shook her head. “In your dreams.”

“Absolutely not,” James said, his tone deadpan. Not too long ago Gracie would have believed he was serious, but now she knew better. “I refuse to take part in any activity where 66.7 percent of the participants want nothing to do with me.”

Gracie puffed out her bottom lip in a pout. “They never let us have any fun.”

“Stupid monogamy,” Anne muttered before turning back to the oven to peek inside.

Jane sighed. “I don't know why I put up with her.”

“Because I'm awesome,” Anne said, donning a pair of oven mitts.

“Yeah, she is.” Jane's expression was full of love and affection as she looked at her partner.

Anne pulled a casserole dish out of the oven and set it on a trivet to cool while Jane moved around the kitchen, pulling plates from the cabinets. They moved in perfect synchronicity, possessing that special something some couples seemed to have. After witnessing it first with Mitch and Maddie, and then with Shane and Cecilia, it was easy to recognize.

For all her teasing, Gracie didn't buy for one second that she stood the slightest chance with Anne. She slid a sideways glance at James. Not that she was in any better shape. Right now, the only one she wanted was him.

“How'd you all meet?” Gracie asked, curious about the origins of James's friendship with the women.

Jane grinned. “I met James our freshman year of college. We were in the same chemistry class. Of course, he wanted nothing to do with me, so I had to force him into being friends.”

That sounded about right, after what James had told her about his adolescence.

“How'd she change your mind?” Gracie slid a hand onto his thigh and his muscles tensed as though he was surprised, before he covered her hand with his own.

“Simple. She was the smartest person in class and I wanted an A. When she suggested being study partners, I'd have been a fool to pass it up.”

Jane laughed and gave James a look filled with affection. “Of course, the idiot had no clue I'd asked him because I had a crush on him.”

Gracie's brows rose and she glanced back and forth between the two women. “I see.”

Anne winked. “I converted her.”

James squeezed Gracie's hand. “She didn't have a crush. I was safe and she didn't have to think about her real feelings.”

Jane blew out a long breath. “After all these years, you're still delusional. Honestly, I thought he was the gay one.”

“How was I supposed to know?” James asked. “We talked about chemistry and books.”

“Why do you think I kept asking you to my room?”

James shrugged. “I assumed you didn't want to leave your dorm.”

Gracie could tell by the ease of the conversation this was a subject that had been discussed, and exhausted, many times over the years, with neither party changing their point of view. Although Gracie believed Jane's version. As a freshman, James had still been heavy, and it didn't take a genius to figure out he'd probably missed all the subtle girl clues.

Hell, even now he'd probably miss it. Gracie had watched him in public, and what she'd previously perceived as aloofness was in actuality lack of perception. He was good-looking, had a body to die for, and a quiet, compelling presence that made a girl feel like he saw right into her. He listened when people talked, and when he spoke, his words cut right to the heart of the matter.

She'd witnessed it countless times. In the way the barista flirted when he ordered his coffee. In the nervous fluttering of a woman's lashes as she spoke to him. In the adoration she'd witnessed on his ex-girlfriend's face when she'd talked to him in that restaurant.