The ex id love to hate, p.16
The Ex I'd Love to Hate, page 16
When the fourth orgasm rips through me, I’m left trembling uncontrollably. It’s like my veins are full of electric charge. I wrap my arms around Grant, holding on to him like my safe haven to ride out the incredible high.
He calls out my name like I’m a piece of his soul as he shudders in climax. And I realize something irrevocable and indelible has just been etched onto my heart.
Chapter Seventeen
Grant
The unfamiliar feel of somebody in the bed with me wakes me up. The faint spear of light coming between the curtains tells me it’s early—maybe a little before six.
I turn over and see Aspen curled into a ball. She’s so warm and soft. I have to stop myself from stroking her, lest I wake her up too.
Instead, I watch her sleep in the slowly strengthening light. Her long lashes make fan-shaped shadows on her cheeks, and her plump mouth is relaxed. There’s a vulnerable rosiness to her that I like. And she smells so good in the morning without the shampoo and body wash masking her scent. I inhale the heady perfume of her smooth skin, feel my cock respond.
She stirs a little, placing a hand on my chest, curling her fingers over my heart, like she’s staking a claim. For once, the notion doesn’t bring a surge of annoyance and oh-shit-time-to-end-it-now agitation. It actually might not be too bad to let her hold on to my heart, which beats a little faster at the idea.
She presses closer, like she wants that as well. I carefully lift a bit of her silky hair and thread it through my fingers, then kiss the smooth strands. Everything about her is feminine and beautiful. The artists of the old era missed out. If they’d seen this woman, they could’ve created hundreds of gorgeous masterpieces. On the other hand, the possessive part of me is happy they never got to see her. She’s too special to be replicated over and over again, displayed everywhere so just anyone can gaze at her.
She makes a soft sound deep in her throat, her eyebrows pinching. I hold my breath, waiting to see if she’ll slide back into slumber. Instead, her fingers over my heart clench and her nails dig into my chest. Her lips purse, like she’s unhappy about getting pulled out of her sleep.
Unable to help myself, I place a soft kiss on her mouth. Her face instantly takes on a surprised look, which is funny and adorable with her eyes still closed. Laughing quietly, I kiss her again.
She blinks slowly, her green eyes hazy with lingering sleep. Then they focus on me, and a tender smile breaks over her, unguarded and lovely.
It’s the coolest thing in the universe that I’m the first thing she sees—and that I bring a smile to her face.
“Hey,” she says, her voice husky.
“Morning.”
She glances down and realizes she’s half lying on me. “Uh. Have you been up for long?”
She starts to pull away, but I wrap an arm around her waist to keep her exactly where she is, pressing her plump breasts against me. “No.”
“Why am I getting a feeling you aren’t going to tell me the truth?”
“Because you want me to say yes?”
“You just seem really alert.”
“A cruel thing to say to a man who hasn’t had his coffee.”
She laughs softly.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Oh. Uh. Not too bad.”
“Are you in pain?” I’m not sure how it works, but I’ve heard it can hurt.
“Um.” She picks her words with care. “A little sore, but nothing I can’t handle.”
I search her face to make sure she isn’t downplaying things to make me feel better. “I just can’t believe you’d never done it with anybody before.”
She clears her throat. “I didn’t want to do it just to say I’d done it. I wanted it to mean something,” she says, looking into my eyes.
And the fact that she chose me makes my heart swell with pride and tenderness that make my whole being ache. Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, I pull her in for a kiss.
She kisses me back, parting her mouth softly. I run my hand down the smooth curve of her back, which ends in an ass that fills my palm perfectly. She squirms, moving her hips as she skims her small hands down my body.
Although I want to have her again, I don’t want to hurt her, especially after she told me she was sore. But touching her is too good, feeling her growing excitement too addictive.
I graze my fingers over her ass and the sides of her hips, then brush them over the groove between the cheeks. Her breathing shallows, and her tongue moves more desperately against mine. She brings her hand down and grips my dick.
I groan against her lips. Her fingers feel amazing around my shaft. To reward her, I dip my finger slowly into her, making sure she’s okay. Holy shit, she’s already wet for me. She moans, wordlessly encouraging me. She moves her hand along my cock, her grip a bit too soft and her motions tentative, like she’s afraid of doing too much and hurting me.
Smiling a little, I wrap my hand around hers, then show her exactly how much pressure I like and how fast and hard she can move it. It feels incredible to fist myself with her hand against my bare dick. I slide in another finger into her, then curl it to hit the spot she loved so much last night.
Her back arches, every muscle in her body tensing. She throws her head back, and her hair pours down her shoulders and back like a fiery waterfall. She grips me harder, probably just out of reflex, but Jesus. My eyes roll back in my head at the pleasure.
“Like that,” I say, then continue to touch her sensitive spot while I pump into her fist.
She labors to drag in air, the sound ragged and uneven. Her mouth is parted, her eyes closed tight as she chases her orgasm. I want to see her face when she climaxes, but I also don’t want to end the moment too soon, so I increase the tempo of my fingers without touching her clit.
Her grip on me tightens as she moves faster along my cock. I grit my teeth as an orgasm starts to swell.
I’m not coming before her.
Before I can rub the pad of my thumb against her clit, she pants out a taut “Oh my God” and shudders, spasming around my fingers.
Her peak is my undoing. As pleasure twists her gorgeous face, I can’t hold back. My cum hits her hand and belly, marking her. The sight is so hot, I shake, my spent dick twitching again and again.
I wrap my arms around her and make a half-turn, so she’s underneath, and kiss her hard. She puts her clean hand on my cheek and responds eagerly. After a moment, she pulls back with an amused grin.
“What’s so funny?” I say, memorizing every beautiful line of her face.
“Aren’t you supposed to be, like, tired and all?” she says, still smiling. “I read about sex, and you’re supposed to roll over and sleep.”
“Forget what you read about sex. I’m not your average guy. Besides, I already slept, and I’d rather kiss you.” Just then, my belly decides to let out an embarrassingly loud growl.
“Sounds like the only kisses you need are made of chocolate. Come on. I’m actually getting hungry, too.” She frowns slightly. “This sex stuff gives you an appetite.”
I raise myself. “We can’t have that. Why don’t we take a shower and get some breakfast at the Waldorf Astoria? We should be able to get a table at Jean-Georges.”
“We don’t have to go out that far.”
“It’ll be nice. I like their breakfast.” And I want to spoil her. And show her off. Marketta left three dresses, and accessories for all of them. In addition, she gave me some dress shirts and slacks, too. It’d be a shame to let them go to waste.
“Okay,” Aspen says brightly.
I get off the bed and start toward the bathroom, only to stop when she lets out a yelp. “Oh my God!”
“What?” I turn around.
“Your back!” She comes over and looks at my back more closely.
I twist around to see what’s wrong, then catch scratch marks on the mirror on the vanity. I put a hand on her shoulder and shift so I can see them better. She ran her fingers down my back last night, but I didn’t feel anything in particular. But the vivid red marks are stark on my skin.
She covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh my God. Did I do that?”
“Well, I’m not flexible enough to reach my own back.”
She looks even more devastated. “Did it hurt? Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I didn’t notice? They look scary, but they don’t hurt. I promise.” I brush a couple strands of hair from her cheek as her wide eyes stare up at me. “Besides, I sort of like them. Now everyone’s going to know I got them making you come.”
Her face turns bright red. “How’s anybody going to see them?”
“Maybe we’ll go to the beach today.” I wink.
She rolls her eyes, then laughs a little. “You’ll catch cold. It’s going to be chilly today after that rain.”
“Then you can warm me up and nurse me back to health.”
“By getting you enough cold meds and cough drops to open a small pharmacy.”
I laugh and drop a kiss on the crown of her head. “Why don’t you go ahead? It’s going to take you longer.” I want to go in with her, but I know my limits. If I see her body glistening under hot water, I’m not going to be able to stop myself, and we aren’t going to be having brunch today. In fact, we probably won’t leave the house until dinner. If then.
“Okay. I’ll try to hurry.”
“Take your time. I can use a different bathroom.”
When I’m done with my shower, I get dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks. Marketta sent a pair of onyx cuff links, so I put those on, too. Then I make a call to be sure that (a) we can get seated and (b) Dad isn’t going to be there. He’s a great manipulator of emotions—which is why he’s such a successful movie producer, but in real life he excels at arousing rage and shame, exactly fifty percent each, in everyone around him, especially his kids. Which I guess is a talent.
Once I’m reassured that we will be seated and my father doesn’t have a reservation, I go to the room, thinking Aspen’s probably done and ready.
And she is done—in the pretty purple Dior, which makes her ass stand out. She smells like the body wash and shampoo I used. And I like it that we both share the scent. Makes us seem more like a couple.
But she’s staring at the bed. Her eyebrows are pulled together, and she has a hand resting on her hip, like something is a problem.
“Everything okay?”
“No.” She bites her lip. “I need to do laundry.” Her tone’s urgent.
“Now?”
She nods, not looking at me.
“I’ll call the housekeeping service Mom uses. They’ll handle it.” I start to pull out my phone.
“No!” She takes a hasty step toward me. “No. I have to do it.”
“No guest does laundry while they’re staying here.” Where is this abrupt desire to do laundry coming from? Then I finally see it. A small reddish spot, barely the size of a quarter. “You’re going to wash this sheet for that?”
She nods without looking at me. “I can’t believe it. It didn’t hurt enough to leave a bloodstain.”
This unexpected shyness makes me want to laugh, but I know better. “There are other sheets. And Mom’s not going to care.”
Aspen covers her face with her hands. “Oh my God.”
“She doesn’t do the laundry,” I add, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“But she’s going to hear about—”
“Nope. Housekeeping will send it out to the laundry service, and they won’t tell. Trust me.”
“How can you be so sure?” Even as she questions me, she radiates a strong please-convince-me vibe.
“They all sign nondisclosure agreements. If they violate it, they pay for the transgression with a kidney. Or worse.” I have no idea whether Mom makes anybody sign an NDA, but given her paranoia…
“Really?” Aspen looks slightly hopeful.
“Yeah. You don’t know the kind of lawyers Mom hires. They’re assholes. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll pour a bucket of red paint over it so nobody can tell. I can get some that looks just like blood.”
She chokes out a laugh. “It’s going to look like we murdered somebody.”
“Exactly. But nobody’s going to know about that tiny thing.”
“No.” She giggles. “That’s ridiculous.”
I put both hands on Aspen’s shoulders and start herding her out. “Okay, then. Let’s go get fed, and let our NDAed housekeeping deal with the sheets.”
* * *
The service at Jean-Georges is as expected: attentive and polished. The bright interior is perfect for breakfast, and we’re dressed just right for the venue. This isn’t just a place you go to fill your belly; you also go to be seen. Make a statement without uttering a word.
I recognize a few people. A couple of overprocessed and silicone-enhanced girls start to get up as if they want to come over to our table to talk, but I shake my head subtly, tilting my chin at Aspen. They just want to discuss what Dad’s up to, and I’d rather not ruin a perfectly fine morning with one of my least favorite subjects.
“Oh my God,” Aspen whispers. “Is that…Brad Pitt?”
“Looks like it.”
“Wait. There are other actors here.”
“Uh-huh. Models, too.”
Her eyes are wide as she looks around. “I heard that celebrities eat here, but I didn’t think I’d actually see any, you know?”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve lived in L.A. all my life and never run into one.”
“You want a couple autographs?” I won’t interrupt them now, but I can probably arrange for something.
“No,” she says quickly. “I don’t want to disturb their breakfast. That’d be rude.”
I find myself smiling at her consideration. When Aspen orders pancakes, I ask, “Do you like berries?”
She nods.
“Two bowls of fresh berries, whipped cream and powdered sugar on the side. And eggs benedict with smoked salmon for me.”
The server also brings out coffee and other juices we asked for. Aspen looks around and whispers, “Wow. It’s so gorgeous. I’ve driven past it a few times, but…”
“But now you’re here.”
Just then the light hits her, so it looks like she’s glowing. I pull out my phone and take a snapshot.
“Wait, I didn’t even pose!” she says.
“So?” I look at the screen. Aspen has a half-smile and her eyes are filled with dreamy wonder. I’m happy I got her exactly like this. Now I finally understand why Mom said photography is a compulsion she can’t ignore. “You look perfect.”
Aspen puts a hand on my forearm. “Lemme see.”
“Here.” I angle the phone toward her.
“Wow. Did you take photography lessons from your mom?”
I shudder. “No. She’d make a terrible teacher.” Mom hates it when people don’t understand her instantly. If she has to repeat herself, that makes you an idiot unworthy of her time and attention. The only exception, for some reason, is Noah. But he can be quite charming, and he knows exactly what to say to unruffle her feathers and flatter her ego.
Our food gets delivered to our table. The eggs benedict taste as great as I remember. Aspen bites into her pancakes, and her eyes go half-closed. “Mm. So good.”
The soft moan revs up my libido, and my dick is hard again. I shift subtly, thankful we’re seated at a table. Aspen’s entirely too pretty and scrumptious.
When we’re done and just starting to get up from our seats, her phone rings. She reaches into her bag and checks it. “Sorry, I need to take this,” she says. “Could be important.”
“Go ahead.”
She swipes the screen, biting her lip. “Hello, Grandma. Is everything okay?”
Ah. Her favorite people. She said she talks with her folks every weekend. Interesting, though—this isn’t the weekend.
We start walking out, Aspen with her phone still glued to her face and me directly behind her. A couple of people wave, and I nod back discreetly. A model makes a phone sign with her hand and gives me a meaningful look. She’s trying to get a movie role with Dad, but she’d be better off buttering up Joey than me.
“My address?” Aspen says, shooting a glance in my direction. “You don’t really have to mail it… I mean, of course I love it, but I can wait until the summer.”
Except I don’t want her to wait until summer to get whatever that can make her happy enough that her grandmother wants to ship it right now. “Tell her we can stop by,” I say, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her grandparents must live close by for Aspen to have suggested dropping by to grab a dress she could wear to dinner yesterday.
“Give me a second, Grandma.” She pulls the phone away from her mouth. “Are you sure?”
“Why not? They don’t live too far away, right?”
“If we go, they’re going to want to feed us,” Aspen says.
Normally, I avoid socializing with the families of girls I’m with. It isn’t like the relationships are serious enough to go anywhere, and it’s best to avoid awkward conversations with their parents. But I’d love to meet Aspen’s grandparents, even if they ask some squirmy questions. Plus it’d be cool to see the house she grew up in, a glimpse of her childhood.
“So?” I say. “I love being fed.”
“Okay.” She turns her attention back to her phone. “Uh. Actually, a friend and I are in the area, so why don’t we just stop by?” She listens, her gaze darting in my direction. “Well, it’s a guy friend. Yeah. I guess? Dinner?” She lowers her phone. “Do you have any allergies? Things you don’t like?”
“Nah. I’m easy.”
She laughs and raises her phone again. “He’s good with anything. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay. See you soon.” Her eyes soften. “Love you too.”
Although she isn’t saying the words to me, they have an impact. Having her look at me with her eyes that tender… For once my brain might freeze and refuse to process the moment.
“Oh hey, I had no idea you were going to be in town.”
My body tenses with dread. Joey. And if he’s here, there’s a good chance Dad’s here too. Fuck! The hostess said he wouldn’t be. I continue to look at Aspen, hoping Joey gets the hint.
