Breathe Page 9

  He breaks me from my distraction with a glass of Moscato. “Your favorite, if memory serves.”

  He remembered. Oh, he’s good.

  “It does serve. Thank you.”

  He grabs his beer, reaches down to entwine our fingers and weaves us through the crowd to an unoccupied soft leather sofa near a corner. We sit and talk some more, laugh some more, flirt some more, touch some more. I’m lost in him and can’t get enough. People stop by to say “hi” to him and he politely responds and introduces me to each one, all the while rarely taking his eyes off of me. The ladies eye him and touch his arms or his hair and flirt with him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Or if he does, he doesn't respond.

  Ha. Take that, sluts.

  Suddenly he jumps from his seat and grabs my arm just above the wrist. “Dance with me.” It wasn’t a question.

  He leads me to the dance floor before I can even answer and slides his large arms around my waist, settling his hands on the small of my back. By instinct, my hands slide up his arms and grab each bicep. We move to the music and get into a rhythm that is only us. Our bodies move closer with each beat until there is no space left between us. Pressed against each other, we sway and move our hips with the music. He spins me so my back is to his chest. Bringing my arms up around his neck, he moves his hands down my sides and holds them at my waist. I lean my neck to one side giving a silent acceptance to do as he wants. He kisses my neck up to the ear and nibbles on the lobe. He sucks it, earring included, into his mouth releasing it just as quick and spins me back around so we’re facing each other again. Lowering his forehead to mine, he puts one of his long legs between mine forcing our bodies to straddle the other. I feel his hot breath on my face and take in every exhale of air he gives me. Pings of excitement course through my body, making me slightly high off of his sexiness.

  It's hot and all of the alcohol I have consumed is taking its course. My guard is down and it feels amazing. I feel free. I feel sexy. I feel like me. I like me when I'm with Lincoln. My eyes refuse to leave his in fear of losing this moment.

  This is the single sexiest moment in the history of moments I have ever had.

  Hot damn. I need a cold shower.

  And new panties.

  One more song later, I’m thirsty and in need of a chair.

  “Can we sit.”

  Lincoln nods. I grab his hand this time and he follows me back to our little couch. Before I realize what is happening he sits on the cushion I previously occupied and pulls me into his lap. I let out a girlie squeal and adjust myself to fit to him. It doesn’t take much. I’m sitting sideways on his thighs; one of his large arms around the small of my back and the other draped over my legs. We seem to meld well in this position. Almost like we’re two puzzle pieces made to fit together.

  As we sit and enjoy each other, talking, flirting, touching and watching the patrons of his bar having a good time, he wraps his arms around me tighter. It’s as if he’s claiming me and doesn’t want me to move from this very spot; which is fine with me. We sit like this for a few more songs until my body tells me I may fall asleep right here in his bar in his arms.

  He nuzzles into my ear. “Would you like to go?”

  NO! That was the lady from down under screaming that.

  I nod hesitantly, despite the fight my upper and lower halves are having with each other, and let my legs drop to the floor. He’s reluctant to release me, but does so gently helping me to my feet. Like we've been doing all night, we grab for each other’s hands and weave through the crowd back to the office, where he takes my coat and again helps me put it on.

  Chapter Nine

  Back outside on the sidewalk Lincoln decides to hail a taxi to take me back to my apartment. It’s gotten colder out and my tootsies are starting to kill in these heels.

  No pain, no gain. Fashion always wins over function. Never forget that.

  Lincoln runs his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to keep me warm. “Would you mind if I went in the cab with you? I want to make sure you get home safely.” He has an undertone of serious concern in his voice. Plus, it will give me more time with him before the night ends. How could I say no to that?

  “Of course.”

  Once inside the bright yellow SUV, Lincoln gives my address to the cabbie, leans back and slides his arm around my shoulder. Pulling me closer to him, he kisses the top of my head. I try to think of ways to prolong this night, but the ideas in my brain do not match the ideas that my lady bits have.

  We remain close and silent on the short ride to my place. As the vehicle pulls up in front of my building, I fight with my self-conscience on whether or not to invite Lincoln up for a bit. It’s only Monday and we could maybe see each other later in the week. I need to work tomorrow and sleep is going to be hard enough to get after this beautiful night with him. Oh, and then there’s Asher. He’s up there and I don’t want to be bringing in dates.

  Ugh.

  Sadly, I know what I need to do.

  “Did you enjoy your night?” Lincoln asks as he helps me out of the SUV. Lost in my internal battle with myself, I hadn’t even noticed he’d paid the cabbie and gotten out.

  “I did. Thank you.” I can’t help the silly grin plastered across my face.

  The cab drives off and leaves us on the sidewalk in front of my building. We face each other and start a staring contest. It’s as if we can’t get enough of one another and neither wants to make the first move to end this glorious night. But it has to end.

  Don't be awkward, Grace.

  “Can I walk you to your door? I’d feel like an ass if I made you walk all the way to your apartment in those sexy, killer shoes alone. What if you fell and I wasn't there to catch you?” He grins.

  I nod. “Okay.” He takes my hand in his and we walk past Jack who’s opened the door for us.

  “Good night, Grace,” Jack says with a tip of his hat.

  “Good night, Jack.”

  We head into the elevator and I hit the number fourteen. We stand holding hands in silence but don’t look at each other this time. The electricity between us is sizzling all around, bouncing off the elevator walls. My heart is beating so hard I can hear it in my ears and feel it in my toes. I’m dying to know what he’s thinking right now. As the elevator glides further towards the fourteenth floor, our grip gets tighter. He leans down and nuzzles his nose in my hair as if he's smelling it. A small, very quiet moan leaves his mouth. The sexual tension in this elevator is palpable.

  I don’t want this night to end and I’m thinking he doesn’t either. I want to take him inside and bite his lip and have him hold me and touch me and kiss me and...damn. Being in this small space, I'm having a Christian and Anastasia elevator moment in my head. I want to growl and jump on him. But I can’t think like that. This is all so new and overwhelming. I need to protect my feelings. Protect my heart. It’s only been four days since the break-up. I’m not even sure what these feelings are. It could just be lust.

  Being with Lincoln is so different from being with Patrick. Lincoln is attentive and passionate. Patrick is selfish and expected. But he also loves me...or at least he did. I don’t know what Lincoln thinks of me. This could turn into something or maybe not. I push those thoughts away. I can’t think about that right now. Asher is home and I need to be responsible. This date has to end when the doors open.

  The elevator stops at the fourteenth floor and the doors quietly glide open. I let go of his hand and step out. Lincoln follows. This floor only has two apartments on it. To the left is where Thomas lives. I turn to the right and walk a few feet to my door as I fumble through my little red bag looking for my keys.

  Aha, found them.

  As I look up to put my key in the door, Lincoln is staring straight into me; his light blue eyes gleaming as he smiles. They look bluer than they did a few hours ago.

  He's so freaking hot!

  He leans in and whispers in my ear. “I had a wonderful time with you tonight Grace.” His voice is
smooth and makes me melt more and more with every word he speaks. Maybe he shouldn't talk anymore tonight unless he wants me turning into a pool of goo onto the floor.

  “Me too. Thank you for din-” My sentence goes unfinished as he cradles my face with his large hands and plants his lips on mine. His hands move to the back of my head and tangle in my hair. My handbag falls to the carpeted floor along with my keys. Without thinking, my hands slide across his sides and rest open handed on his lower back. He is slow, yet deliberate. I can feel the heat building between us. He gently swipes his tongue along my bottom lip and I instinctively part them granting him entrance to the kingdom that is my mouth. He does and I let out a small sound that I think is a moan. Our tongues tease each other as the heat rises inside me. If sexiness had a taste, the deliciousness in his mouth would be it. It also has a hint of cigarette, which I surprisingly don't mind. I bite down on that fantastic bottom lip and moans from somewhere deep inside him enter the space surrounding us. He moves further into my mouth staking his claim as king of my mouth. My hands move to his hair, pulling the strands then grabbing hold.

  Yep. I'll need new panties.

  We move faster and more frantic; all lips, tongues, hands and heat. I can feel his passion pushing on my stomach. Holy Hell! I never want to leave this moment. EVER. Right now, this moment, I belong to Lincoln Prescott. If I die in the next few minutes, I would die a happy, satisfied death.

  We slow down and Lincoln pulls his head back still holding my head in his hands. He leans his forehead on mine and rubs his nose along mine as we collectively catch our breath. The way he kisses me and is holding me right now is more intimate than I have ever been with anyone. And it is only kissing.

  “I’ve wanted to do that all night.” His voice is husky. All I can do is smile. I have no air. He has stolen it and now holds it captive in his lungs.

  “Si sono cosi belli.” (You are so beautiful.)

  More Italian. Seriously, is he for real?

  I raise an eyebrow in question.

  He shakes his head as if to clear it.

  I release him and he drops his hands. Opening my eyes, I look up at him and see him looking down at me with those sexy blues. We stare at each other for an undetermined amount of time. I can’t get enough of him. I want more. But I can’t. I need to go inside before I do something stupid. Which, knowing me, is bound to happen soon.

  “Can you do something for me Grace?”

  I nod.

  “Remember this moment. Our first moment of many. Our first kiss of many. Don't let it go.”

  Swoon.

  I smile a stupid, silly grin and nod again.

  “I should go in.”

  We just had an amazing date and an even more amazing kiss and I say that to him. I should be put in a damn time-out.

  “Sure,” he nods as he bends down in front of me to pick up my discarded handbag and keys.

  He’s on one knee, head at the level of my waist grabbing the items I dropped while being taken over by our moment. Without thinking, I run my hands through his hair. He pauses, head holding still at my waist looking at my middle, bag and keys in his hands. In a split second, he leans his head forward and rests it on my stomach while wrapping his arms around my waist. He sighs deeply. The quiet sound shakes me of my daze and I realize what I’m doing.

  See, there I go doing something stupid.

  My brain takes back over and I will my hands to stop. They do as he pulls away slightly and looks up at me.

  “You keep doing things like that and I'm never leaving,” he says while grinning like a Cheshire cat. I giggle shyly as he stands keeping his arms around my waist. “I should take off.”

  I'm not sure what kind of sound comes out of me but I give a small sound of disappointment.

  “If I stay, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you and that could lead to trouble.”

  I like trouble. I want trouble.

  He kisses me on the forehead and takes a step back. After handing me my bag and keys, he puts his hands in his front pockets. He seems to always do that when he’s walking away from me. He watches as I turn the key in the lock and open the door.

  “Grace.” He catches my attention and I turn to him. “Can I see you again?”

  I smile, suddenly feeling shy. “I would like that.” Jeez, this man does things to me with only words.

  He takes a step forward and my eyes close from his nearness. “Great. I’ll call you soon.” He gives me a quick kiss on the lips keeping his hands in his pockets. As my eyelids lift open, he’s back in the elevator with the doors closing.

  My perfect night with Lincoln Prescott is over.

  As I lie in bed trying to fall asleep, memories of him and I together flood through my mind. It’s all so overwhelming, to say the least, but I wouldn’t change a thing. The glass around my heart is beginning to crack and the wall is starting to fall.

  A small thought of what Patrick would think flashes through me.

  I don't even care.

  Fuck Patrick.

  Chapter Ten

  “It was amazing.” Touching my fingers to my lips in remembrance of that fantastic kiss, I grin like an idiot.

  “You’ve said that already. Tell me more about this man candy. I want to know all the sordid details.”

  “Sordid details? Really? You make it sound like I had an affair with him last night.” He shrugs his narrow shoulders. Typical Rafe. He likes making things more dramatic than they really are. “He just...he makes me feel like a woman. Patrick never did that. He always made me feel like a little girl.”

  Rafe smiles. He gets it.

  “I feel free with him. Like I can be me, you know?” I pause thinking about some of the high points of last night. “One of my walls shattered.” It came down so hard I almost cut myself on the glass.

  “I know, Gracie. I can tell. Let's keep the maintenance man on speed dial though, okay. You don't want to let too many of those down too soon.” He places his hand on top of mine and gives me a pathetic look. “You spook easy.”

  I stick my tongue out at him in return.

  We’re sitting in a little café in Manhattan near the Stratton building having a late lunch. I was more than happy to get his call to meet him. Work has been, well work and I just couldn’t focus enough to get through it. I’m not even sure that I want to go back. Playing hooky might be a good idea this afternoon.

  “Tell me everything. Give me details.”

  “We went to dinner, he took me to his night club here in the City and I went home.”

  “Wait. He has a club here in the City? Which one? Where?”

  “Mercury on 85th.”

  “The same one we were at a few weeks ago?”

  I nod.

  “That place is hot. He runs it?” Rafe is visually impressed.

  “No. He owns it. And another in Boston and the one we went to in Jersey. He also has stake in a winery in Maine and a restaurant in Boston, too.” Words are escaping Rafe. This is rare. He stares at me with his mouth open as a sense of pride rolls through me for Lincoln.

  After pulling it together, Rafe asks, “So where does he live then?”

  “I have no idea. Jersey maybe? He grew up there.” I stop for a moment to contemplate that. Where does he live? It never occurred to me to ask him. I’ll have to remember to ask him that next time I see him. Oh, will there be a next time? Do I want there to be a next time? Will he call me again? Do I want him to call me again? God, he smells good. Erg...I'm getting off subject. What if he wants to see me again? Should I see him again?

  My thoughts are interrupted by hands being wrapped around my shoulders from behind in a tight embrace.

  “Hey, Gracie,” Briar leans around and smiles at me.

  “Hey. I didn’t know you were meeting us, too.”

  “Yeah, well Rafe called me this morning and said you two were meeting here so I thought I’d join.” She takes a seat at the table. “Now, I need details from last night.”

 
; “Sure.” I quickly flush in anticipation of telling more about my night. “But first, I have a question for you.”

  “Okay,” she says hesitantly.

  I tilt my head and unleash the question that has been on mind for days now. “What is with you and my brother?”

  “Which one? You have a lot of brothers.” Oh, she thinks she’s so sly.

  “You know which one. Miles. Whenever I see him, you're with him. Whenever I see you, he’s with you. What gives?”

  “Well he’s not with me now.”

  “Don’t be a bitch. Give us the goods woman,” Rafe says in pure annoyance of not being in the loop of their apparent fling either.

  “Fine.” She stares down at her hands in her lap. “Fine. I guess...well, we...uh. What do you want to know?”

  “Are you two together? Like dating?”

  Briar's cheeks flush a pretty pink. She looks up at me and nods shyly.

  “When? How?” I quickly ask. “Why?”

  She takes a sharp inhale through her mouth and lets it out her nose. “Three-ish months ago. At a party.”

  “Three months ago?”

  She nods again. “We wanted to take it slow and see where this could go.”

  “And?” She is not getting away with so little info.

  “And...I really like him.” She grins wide. “We see each other every day and talk to each other every night before we fall asleep.” She fidgeting. Probably because of the look I have on my face. “Are you mad? I wanted to tell you, but Miles thought we should wait to see if it got serious.”

  “Is it serious? I mean are you...”

  She nods again. “Yeah.”

  “Does Landon know?”

  She hesitates. “I'm not sure. But what does it matter? We've been over for a long time.” She shrugs. “And he's with June now, anyway.”

  I shrug. “I guess it doesn't matter.”

  She looks up at me through her lashes. “He told me he loved me last night.”