I Love How You Love Me(The Sullivans)(50)

* * *

Sometime in the middle of the night they reached for each other, kissing in the dark. Grace felt as though she were dreaming as she wrapped her arms and legs around Dylan and he came back into her, having already taken care of protection in the dark. And yet, there wasn’t anything slow, or safe, about the way they took each other this second time.

How could there be when their hunger for each other hadn’t been even the slightest bit sated by their earlier lovemaking?

He slid his fingers through hers, and she held tightly to him as he took her fast and hard over first one peak and then the next without any breathing room to recover. After so long a sexual drought, Grace felt utterly, wonderfully submerged in heady pleasure. She wanted to stay right where she was forever, holding on to Dylan’s strong muscles in the dark, his mouth on hers as they both fell over the edge together.

And after, it was so wonderful to curl her body into his, to pull his arm over her chest so that she was holding his hand right over her still quickly beating heart, and to fall asleep safe and warm and, for the moment at least, sated from soul-deep pleasure.



* * *

Grace woke to the sound of Mason laughing. She knew how lucky she was that he usually woke up on the cheerful side of the bed, happy and excited to greet the new day. But today, she was momentarily lost as to why she was out on the couch instead of in the bedroom with him.

As the cobwebs cleared, flashbacks to the night before came one after the other. Kisses. Caresses.

And whispered promises of love from Dylan.

Her chest tightened where joy should have bloomed instead, and damn it, she was tired of it. Tired of being so wary all the time, of looking for trouble around every corner. So incredibly tired of not knowing anymore how to let go outside of Dylan’s arms.

When, she wanted to know, would it be okay to just relax for a little while? And to believe, again, that true love could not only be real, but last forever?

Her parents had had such a sweet love and so did Dylan’s. She saw that same love in the lives of his brothers Rafe and Ian, and his sister, Mia. All around her were examples of what was possible.

And yet, even though she wanted so badly to believe, she could still feel the scar tissue deep inside from a wound that hadn’t yet fully healed.

Dylan, fortunately, knew that she was still healing and seemed to understand exactly why she was so wary, so cautious. He didn’t try to pretend it wasn’t the case, didn’t try to fool himself into thinking that she could declare her love for him as quickly as he had for her.

But would he continue to be this patient? Or would he, if she couldn’t rise above her past fast enough, finally give up on her?

Shivering at the thought of losing someone who had so quickly become the sunlight around which her world revolved, she wrapped the blanket around her naked body and let laughter draw her into the bedroom.

Perhaps after the night they’d shared wrapped up in each other, kissing and touching each other, she should have been better equipped to deal with the sight of Dylan wearing only dress pants, barefoot and shirtless, his face unshaven and scruffy—and looking more gorgeous than ever. She had to put her hand on the doorknob to steady herself for a moment as she watched the most sinfully good-looking man in all creation laugh with her son.


And for now, at least, the shadows that had begun to creep in couldn’t withstand the bright joy of the two people who made her the happiest as Mason reached out to kiss her just as Dylan kissed her, too.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE



Grace was sitting behind her computer while Mason napped the next day, staring at the blinking cursor, trying really, really hard not to miss the man she was writing about, when the phone rang and she saw an unfamiliar number appear on the screen. Dylan had left the day before for Australia and the big, week-long yacht race. He had been as reluctant to go as she and Mason had been to kiss him good-bye, but if things were ever going to have a chance of working out between them, they would have to learn how to give each other the space they needed: Dylan for his boats, and Grace for her writing. This trip would be good for them, she reminded herself as she looked at the number on the screen and tried again to place it.

She’d never been nervous about picking up the phone before leaving D.C. But it was times like this when she immediately thought about her ex and his family and wondered if they had been tracking her after all—if they knew she’d had the baby and now were calling to try to take away her son so that he could continue the Bentley line.

As she let the call go to voice mail, she told herself as she had so many times before to stop looking for danger around every corner. She was just overtired from not getting enough sleep the night before. Not, of course, that she would trade the hot lovemaking with Dylan for any amount of sleep. Some things were well worth losing sleep over, she thought as a small smile moved onto her lips.

Yet again, even without being here, he was making her smile, making her forget the darkness that had so often felt as though it were lurking, waiting to pounce when she was at her most vulnerable.

Feeling much more steady, she hit the Play button on her phone and was surprised to hear a familiar voice. “Hi, Grace, it’s Tatiana. I hope it’s okay that Dylan gave me your number. Since Mia surprised us all with a wedding, I wanted to surprise her with a party to celebrate it—just the girls. I know this is short notice, but is there any way that you’d be available to come by the set of my movie tomorrow night at six? Can’t wait to hear from you.”