One Wish (Thunder Point #7)(36)

“Only one, as far as I can see,” she said. “Think anyone really notices?”

“In this town they notice everything,” he said. “Think I really care?”

She laughed with him for a minute, then she rolled back so he could rub her back. He had strong, kind hands, the sort of hands she’d never expected to feel on her bare back. “That’s so nice,” she murmured.

Eight

Troy parked his Jeep behind the flower shop and called Grace. “I’m done at Cooper’s. Is it too late for me to come by?”

“I’m with one of my other boyfriends,” she said.

He grinned at that. “Can you ask him to step aside for a little while?”

“Is this a booty call?”

“No, it’s not, as a matter of fact. I wanted to tell you something, but if you turn it into a booty call, I probably won’t fight you off.”

She laughed. “When will you be here?”

“I’m parked in the alley. And it’s not really so late.”

“Come up!”

He was already standing at the top of the stairs when she opened the door.

“You didn’t work very late tonight,” she said, pulling him inside. She put her arms around his neck, kissing him. “You know what? I really like this boyfriend stuff. It’s very convenient. I was just thinking about a kiss.”

He pulled her closer. “You were, were you?” He nuzzled her neck and pressed against her. He fit so well against her soft curves, even though she was much shorter. He put his hands under her butt and lifted her, lining them up even better. Then he kissed her again.

“I thought you wanted to tell me something,” she whispered against his lips.

“Right,” he said distractedly, kissing her again. “No rush.” Of course he began to grow against her enticing form.

“If you keep this up, you’ll forget what you wanted to tell me,” she warned him.

“No worries. It’ll come back to me. You okay?”

“With you? Always okay.”

He kept kissing, then touching, then gyrating. “Aw, Gracie,” he moaned. “Let’s talk a little later, all right?”

“All right.”

“Bed? Sofa? Table? Floor?” He swallowed. “Wall?”

She giggled.

“I could rip your clothes off right here,” he said.

“Oh? And do you sew?” She pulled his hand from her breast and led him to the bed. “It will be more practical if we just undress. Ripping and tearing could be fun, but problematic.”

“What if I’m feeling a little wild?” he asked, smiling into her pretty eyes.

“You can get a little wild when we’re naked,” she said, dropping her jeans and shedding her denim shirt.

“I can do that,” he said, getting rid of his clothes even faster. She was down to her tiny panties, so sheer and small they almost weren’t there. He followed her onto the bed and reached for those panties with one big hand. “Oops,” he said, ripping a short seam.

“You’re very hard on my underwear.”

“I’m surprised you have any left,” he said.

“I love my panties.”

“Not as much as I do! God, Gracie, I think you were expecting me,” he said, covering her mouth with his and separating her knees with one of his. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Just as long as I can do it to you again,” she whispered. “And again...”

* * *

Even with all the romances Grace had read, just dreaming about true love, nothing had prepared her for what it would really feel like. As she lay naked in Troy’s arms, enjoying postcoital bliss, catching her breath, ready for sleep, she sighed his name.

“Right here, baby,” he said, pulling her tighter against him.

“I think you spoil me.”

“That’s my intention. You feel good?”

“I’m ruined for other men.”

“Good. I can’t think about you ever being with another man.”

They were quiet for a few seconds. “You said ever,” she said.

He rolled her over until she was on top of him, her hair a mussed canopy around their faces. “I did. You bring out some feelings in me that I don’t recognize. I don’t want to think about you ever being with anyone else. I don’t want to be with anyone else.” He brushed back her hair. “I should slow down, right? Because you’re not ready for talk like that. Your other boyfriends never try to hold you down like that.”

She shook her head. Pretend boyfriends rarely did—they were both all too aware of that. Here was the first flesh-and-blood boyfriend to hold her, love her, possess her. She didn’t want anything to change.

“We both know what’s missing from this perfect relationship,” he said.

“Missing?” she asked.

“What you’ve told me about yourself, about growing up, wouldn’t fill a chapter in one of your romances, Grace. Even your paper boyfriends would have questions.”

“But you haven’t asked me any questions,” she said.

He shook his head. “I told you, you can trust me. And when you feel safe you’ll tell me.”