Boycotts and Barflies (37 page)

No dessert for you until I make more room in my stomach.”

Grace propped her head up on the pillow and rubbed her stomach. He put the spoon down and came over to lie down next to her on the bed.

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The movie started and Michael laughed when Grace would moan every few minutes from eating too much. After a half hour, though, she started to feel much better. When the part came on where John Candy and Steve Martin were in bed together, Grace laughed. “Look, that could have been you and Ryan!”

“I don’t think so. We would have done rocks paper scissors to see who got the  bed. Loser takes the floor. It is a ‘guy’s unwritten rule.’”

“Well, you guys are stupid. Meg and I would have shared the bed, no problem.”  She rolled up onto her elbow smiling. “However, I’m much more excited about  sleeping with my new roomi e, I have to admit.” Grace smirked as she ran her  fingers across his incredibly sexy and still bare chest.

“Grace.” She could tell from the tone in his voice it was a warning of sorts, one  that told her she was starting to test his limits like she had in the bathroom. “Michael.” She used his same warning tone as she leaned over and kissed the  center of his chest.

“I’m trying hard to behave, Grace, but you’re not making it very easy.”

Grace watched his body twitch as she dragged her fingernails across his

stomach.

One of his hands gripped the sheet so tightly, his knuckles started turning  white.

“Oh, come on, Michael, I’m just having a little fun with you. Surely you’re man  enough to take it.” Grace bit her lip to keep from laughing as she wrapped her  thigh around his and laid her arm across his chest. She could hear his heart  pounding and felt the quickened rise and fall of his chest.

When his phone rang, Michael jumped up to answer it. “Hello? Hey, man.

No, I got everything. She is? Ha, OK, no, we’re good. Watching a movie. I’ll talk  to you in the morning. Bye.” He put the phone back on the nightstand and  chuckled. “Meg’s out cold. David sent the same spread to their room, and she  drank one glass of wine  too many. Ryan says she’s sound asleep. He just  wanted to make sure I didn’t need anything from over there.”

Shit! Meg’s asleep which means she won’t be losing the bet tonight. Now I real

y do have to be good.

“I think it was those drinks you made in the bar. She normally can drink like a

fish. The ‘screaming sex with the bartender’ must have been too much for her.”

Grace sat up, glancing at the desert tray that suddenly was calling her name.

Walking over to the cart, Grace stopped and stabbed her spoon into the thick

mousse before Michael had a chance to stop her. As soon as the spoon hit her

lips, she heard him utter her name. He then came barreling over to the 284

cart and spun her away from the desserts, grabbing the remaining mousse and

holding it high over his head.

“Come on, Michael, give it back. It’s delicious.” She tried jumping for it, but he

was too damn tall for her to reach.

“You little sneak. You knew I wanted to try this and then you tiptoe over here  and try to eat it all? That’s not a very nice thing for my wife to do,” he scolded  as he lowered the mousse and took a huge spoonful of it, holding it up to his  mouth like he was going to eat the last bite.

“Don’t make me come after the mousse, Michael. I don’t want to hurt you, but I  will. I’m a woman, and we really like our chocolate.” Grace slowly climbed up  onto the bed and crouched like a tiger preparing to launch an attack.

He stood his ground, not believing she would dare to jump at him.

“Last chance. Hand over the dessert and no one gets hurt.” Bouncing gently on  the bed, Grace tried to calculate how hard she would have to jump to make it  all the way over to him.

As she thrust herself forward, launching herself off the bed, Michael suddenly  realized she was serious about coming after him. He dropped the glass the  dessert had been in onto the cart and took the smallest step backwards. Instead of landing in his arms, Grace crashed into the hand that was holding  the spoon of mousse and flung it all over his cheek and neck. As she slid down  his chest and onto the floor, she clamped her hand over her mouth to keep  from laughing.

Michael stood there like a statue, with mousse dripping ever so slowly off his  chin and onto his chest.

Uh-oh, now I did it. He’s mad. Suddenly her little game didn’t seem so funny anymore. “Michael, I’m so sorry.” Grace scrambled to her feet, searching for a napkin.

He remained silent and dropped the spoon onto the cart with a loud crash as it hit the tray.

“Are you mad?” She nervously bit her fingernail and looked up into his unreadable face.

After what felt like an eternity, he took an unexpected step toward her, causing  Grace to stumble backward. The next thing she knew, his hands were on her shoulders and he gave her a stiff shove backwar d.

Grace’s knees hit the edge of the mattress and she flopped back onto the bed as he towered over her, a wicked smile on his face. OK, so maybe he isn’t 285

mad, she thought to herself as he leaned over her, his chocolaty face hovering

over hers.

She reached up and scooped a bit of the mousse off his cheek with her finger and licked it clean. “Yum, tasty.” His eyes watched her tongue swirl around her finger, sucking and licking as it wantonly moved in and out of her mouth. While

he was distracted, Grace flipped over, scrambling back to the headboard of the

bed.

In an effort to catch her, he crawled up the bed toward her like a sleek jungle

cat.

“You know, Grace, I still haven’t gotten to taste the mousse.” He stopped when  he  reached her legs and smiled. Lowering his head, he kissed her knee, making  sure his cheek brushed against her leg, smearing the mousse all over it.

“What are you doing?” Grace gasped as she watched his tongue dart out of his  mouth and slowly move toward her leg.

“I’m simply tasting the mousse. Relax, Grace.” His sinful wink sent her body

into overdrive, and relaxing was definitely out of the question. His fingers crept  up her leg as he held her calf firmly against his chest. His hot breath washed  over her skin as he dipped his head and started licking the side of her thigh.

It took every ounce of strength and focus Grace had to stay stil . Occasional y  her whole body would tremble in anticipation of his touch. When she felt his  lips sucking on a patch of skin just above her knee, she moaned loudly, causing  Michael’s eyes to look up, a devilish grin firmly planted on his face.

“You OK, sweetheart?” He laughed as Grace fanned her face, looking anywhere  but into his darkened eyes. If she saw a hint of the desire she was feeling for  him on his face, she would get caught up in the moment and do something she  might later regret.

“I’m fine. Finish your mousse, please. I’ll just be watching the movie.” She  turned away, staring at the television instead, but out of the corner of her eye,  she saw his smile grow then he lowered his face back to her leg, working his  way higher up her thigh .

Z, Y … X, W, V, U … T … She started saying the alphabet backwards in her head  to keep her focus anywhere other than on his naughty tongue working its way  up her inner thigh. That feels so amazing. Stop it, Grace, now before it’s too

late.

“OK, dessert’s  over, Michael. Stop playing with your food and clean up the  mess.” Running to the bathroom, Grace dared not look at him. She threw a  washcloth under the running water, wrung out the excess water, and put her  foot on the edge of the tub to wipe the sticky m ousse off her leg.

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Michael strol ed into the bathroom, laughing to himself as he leaned over the sink and splashed water all over his neck and face, removing the last remnants of chocolate off his body.

When Grace looked over at him, he still had a smear of mousse across his chest so she gently ran the washcloth over his pecs, removing the last traces of the tantalizing dessert. She felt him intently watching her every move as she reached over and grabbed a towel off th e shelf and dried the excess moisture off his chest and neck.

He took the towel from her hand and used it to dry his face. Then he surprised her by dropping down on one knee and drying her thigh which was still wet from her earlier clean up.

“There you go, all clean and dry.” He got up off the ground, smiling. “I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed eating mousse so much before.”

Grace rolled her eyes at him. “I love you.” As she wrapped her arms around him, she could still smell the rich -tasting chocolate on his  skin. “And you smell delicious, too.”

Since they were in the bathroom already, she grabbed her toothbrush and quickly brushed her teeth before bed. While she was combing her hair out,  Michael took a minute to brush his teeth at the adjacent sink. Suddenly, Grace became very sleepy and a yawn escaped her lips.

Michael laughed. “Let’s go to bed.” Hearing him say those words sent her mind plummeting into the gutter. There were so many things Grace wanted to do with him in bed, and sleep was toward the bottom of the list, but she grudgingly followed his platonic lead. She took his hand and then turned out the bathroom light. Michael stopped at the front door to make sure the latch was securely in place and that they were safely locked in together. The only illumination remaining in the room was the flickering light from the television. “What side of the bed do you like?” Grace asked, suddenly concerned about the sleeping arrangements.

“The right side. Why?” he asked as he pulled the covers back.

She quickly crawled across to the left side. “Just checking. Because if you’d said left, I’d have had to call off the wedding before you even proposed.” Trying to get comfortable, Grace slid her legs under the fluffy blankets, laying on her side so she could watch him get  into bed. Michael found the remote and clicked off the television, putting the room into complete darkness before climbing into bed beside her.

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Under the covers, Grace slid her body right next to his, snuggling as close  as possible. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed. “I love you, Grace.

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More than you could possibly know.” His lips brushed against her forehead and she smiled.

“I love you, too. Being with you, like this, just feels so right.” Turning her face up to  his, Grace kissed him. His hand went to the back of her neck, pressing her tightly against his lips.

“Sleep, Grace.” He sighed in the darkness. She felt her body relaxing, comfortable in his arms. He tenderly stroked her hair, and occasionally she’d feel his lips kiss the top of her head. As she drifted off to sleep, she heard him whisper, “I will marry you someday … I promise.”

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Chapter 23

The early morning sun peeked into the room from between the heavy curtains. Grace was asleep next to Michael, her raven-colored hair falling across her face.  She was still curled up, deep asleep. Feeling the warmth of her body was the most glorious way to start his day.

His memory flashed back to just before they had fallen asleep, and Michael couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. Grace had started talking about produce, possibly making a shopping list in her dreams.

He gently brushed her black locks out of her face, revealing a small smile on her lips as she slept. How he wished he could know exactly what she was dreaming about at that moment, to know what had put such a contented smile on her face.

She truly looked like a sleeping angel; a more perfect creature couldn’t possibly exist.

Michael’s thoughts drifted back to the previous night—the Jacuzzi, dinner, dessert, and finally, crawling into bed with her—and he found himself smiling. There was also the promise he had whispered to her as she fell asleep. Deep down in his heart, he knew that he would marry her one day. A huge realization had hit him in the wee hours of the morning, and he couldn’t explain how, but he understood that without her, he was nothing. She was his other half, his better half, and when he was with her, he was finally the man he wanted to be.

Lifting his head, Michael read the clock and saw it was 7:00 a.m. He knew that  Ryan wanted to get an early start, so he reluctantly tried to wake his sleeping angel. “Grace? Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up.” He tenderly kissed her forehead as she stirred under his lips.

“Five more minutes, Mom … just five minutes,” she mumbled as she buried her head further into the pillow, pulling the covers over her head.

“It’s time to get up, Grace.” He said  the words a little louder, and at the sound of  his voice, she stretched her hand out from under the comforter, toward his  mouth and pushed on it, trying to silence him like an alarm clock.

“Shh, Mikey. I’m sleeping. Be a good boy and be quiet,” she whispered without  opening her eyes.

“You need to get up so we have time to shower and get dressed. Ryan wants us  to get on the road soon.” Michael peeked under the comforter and gently

pulled it down from her face. In another attempt to awaken his sleeping

beauty, his hand ran up and down her arm, giving her a gentle shake.

“Michael,” she whined, scooting her body closer to his and wrapping her arms  and legs around his body. “Shh, let’s go back to sleep. Hold me please. Let’s just  stay here forever. Send Meg and Ryan back to Portland.” Her warm cheek  pressed onto his chest as her warm breath tickled across his skin.

Knowing he couldn’t possibly resist her, he sighed in defeat and hugged her  tightly. “Five minutes, Grace. I’ll give you five minutes.” Needing to touch her,

he ran his hands along the length of her arms and down her side. Michael’s T- shirt was twisted around her, exposing the soft skin of her stomach and lower  back. He couldn’t resist the opportunity to touch her. Slowly his fingers traced  across her lower back, making her shiver.

“Michael,” she sighed, her voice still sounding half asleep, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” They kissed and lay in each other’s arms for five more

minutes, before Michael tried to wake her again. “We really have to get up.

Ryan will be banging on the door any minute now.” As much as he hated to do  it, Michael started to pry her tiny arms and legs away from him.

“You shower first; I’ll just lie in this big bed, all by myself. Hmm …” she sighed  as she batted her eyelashes, the corners of her mouth turning up into a  seductive grin.

Michael’s mind immediately flashed back to the previous day in the bathroom  when he’d had her pressed up against the door, his shirt barely draped over  her shoulders, hanging open, inviting him to touch  her soft skin.

The phone rang loudly, snapping him out of his daydream.

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“Come on.” Grace groaned as she threw the pillow over her head. “Can’t a

person get a little sleep?”

“Hello?”

“Mike, it’s me. Meg’s refusing to get out of bed. We’re going to be a bit later

than I thought.” In the background, Michael could hear Meg begging Ryan to

close the curtains before she was permanently blinded.

“Well, seems like we’re in the same situation because Grace has her head

buried under her pil ow as we speak. Give me ten minutes to shower and I’ll

meet you downstairs for breakfast,” he suggested. Ryan was very receptive to

the idea and agreed. Michael hung up the phone and lifted the pillow off

Grace’s head.

“Sleeping, Michael. Still sleeping,” Grace grumbled as he kissed her cheek.

“I’m going to shower and then grab some breakfast with Ryan, so you can sleep  a little longer.”

“See, I knew there was a reason I love you so much.” She giggled as Michael  tapped her on the head with the p illow. She puckered her lips out, asking for a  kiss, and he was more than happy to grant her request.

She looked so gorgeous sprawled out across their bed, her hair tousled and  sexy. Instead of a quick peck, Michael flipped her onto her back and allowed his  chest to press her down deep into the mattress as he kissed her with more  enthusiasm than she was expecting. The soft moan she made as she wrapped  her arms around his neck let him know he had gotten her attention.

“I’m going to shower,” Michael said as he quickly hopped off the bed before he  listened to what his body was begging him to do rather than what his head was  telling him was right. It was getting harder and harder to behave around Grace. After a nice hot shower, Michael met Ryan downstairs at the hotel restaurant  for breakfast. Quickly they ate and then checked road conditions to Portland;  they were pleased to find that road crews had been out all night, making the  highway drivable once again. They hurried back up to the girls, eager to get on  the road. Michael wished Ryan luck at waking Meg and went into his room. Grace was still lying in the middle of the bed. The sun was streaming through  the curtains, illuminating her skin in a soft glow. Her right leg had slipped out  from under the covers and Michael could see the length of her creamy skin  against the white sheet. The gentle curve of her hip was hypnotizing as he  walked closer. Her arm was extended out and resting on his pillow as if sh e  were reaching out to touch him in her sleep.

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Michael sat on the edge of the bed and took in every inch of her body, allowing the vision before him to be burned into his memory. Glancing at his watch and doing some quick math in his head, Michael realized that the next one hundred

and fourteen hours were going to be the longest of his life. He started to

chuckle to himself, and the light shaking of the mattress woke her from her  slumber.

“Michael?” she whispered, one eye was still closed as she spoke. She patted the  pillow, wanting him to lie down next to her. Even though he was supposed to

be getting her out of bed, Michael lay down for one last minute of bliss before  they were trapped in a car with Ryan and Meg for three hours.

“Good morning … again. The roads are clear. So, unfortunately, it’s time for you  to crawl out of bed,” Michael said as he stroked her cheek.

He was expecting her to protest again, but what came out of her mouth threw  his body into a frenzy. “Oh, Michael. Make love to me.”

His body began responding before his brain could stop it; his heart raced, his  breathing increased, blood coursed through his veins and pooled in his groin. His fingers began unbuttoning his shirt at lightning speed, and then Michael’s  brain kicked in and put the brakes on everything.

“What did you just say?” Suddenly he realized he must have misunderstood her  because there was no way she would just blurt that out.

“You said it was time to get up,” she put her hand over her mouth as she  yawned, “and I said ‘Make me!’” She opened her eyes and immediately her  brow furrowed when she saw Michael’s unbuttoned shirt. “Why are you  stripping?

Not that I’m complaining; it’s just … unexpected.”

Well, crap. Now what do I say? Sorry, Grace, I thought you just invited me

to have sex with you? Or, I was going to take advantage of you while you slept?  Think, Michael …

“Um, I thought you might need a shirt for today and I was going to offer you

this one,” he said, hoping the panic in his voice wasn’t too obvious.

She smiled and ran her warm palm down his cheek. “That’s sweet, Michael,  thank you. But if we’re going to be stuck in the car for a few hours, I think I’d be  more comfortable in a T-shirt. So while I’m in the shower, can you find me

one?” She rolled onto her stomach, resting up on her elbows and kissed his

nose.

Dumbly, Michael nodded his head.

“Fine, I’ll get up. But for the record, I’m not a morning person, Michael.

I’m a grump until I have my morning coffee.” She squealed as she glanced over

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Michael’s shoulder and found the coffee and pancakes he had bought at the restaurant for her.

He couldn’t help but laugh as he rolled off the bed and fetched her coffee and breakfast from the table, placing them in  her lap. She sat straight up and took a large swig of coffee before cutting into the pancakes.

The next ten minutes were spent watching Grace devour her breakfast.

When she popped the last bite of pancake into her mouth, he cleared away the trash as she climbed out of bed.

“When you find a shirt, can you bring it into the bathroom for me?” She gave a  flirty wink over her shoulder then headed across the room.

Michael’s mouth hung open in shock as he watched the seductive sway of her  hips as she walked away,  her glossy waves of hair bouncing down her back. When he heard the click of the bathroom door, he closed his eyes and buried  his face in his hands, trying to slow his now thundering heart. You can do

this, Michael. Just find her a shirt. Rummaging through  his suitcase, a green  sleeve peeked out and Michael knew that it was the perfect shirt for her.

He pulled out one of his old Oregon State track T-shirts from college. On the  back was printed ‘Andris’ and he couldn’t help but smirk. She had enjoyed  pretending to be his wife last night, so he figured the least he could do was  make her an Andris for the day.

Be a gentleman. She wants to win the bet; it’s important to her, so behave, he  reminded himself as he took a deep breath and tapped on the bathroom door. The shower was running, but she didn’t answer.

When he opened the door a crack, he could see the steam from the shower had  covered the mirror, and he wondered if she was in there and naked, wet, or  both. She wants the shoes, Michael. Why? I have freaking no idea, but she  wants them, so hands off. “Grace, I found you a shirt.” He kept his eyes locked  on the floor in front of him.

It had sounded like a good idea at the time, staring at the floor. But he quickly  realized it was a huge mistake when he saw his shirt along with the shorts she  had borrowed in a pile at his feet. He groaned with that confirmation that she  was approximately seven feet away and completely naked. Michael took a deep  breath and was placing the shirt on the counter, ready to make a hasty exit,  when he heard her voice.

“Michael? Are you still in here?” she asked so sweetly, he was instantly

suspicious.

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Run, Michael! Get out while you can. “Yes. I, um, just put your shirt on the counter. I’m leaving,” he  said quickly as he made his way back to the door, giving her back her privacy.

“No wait!” Reflexively, he turned at the sound of her voice and saw Grace’s bare arm waving from the glass shower door.

He inhaled sharply and stumbled back against the wall, trying to avert his glance from her deliciously naked form behind the foggy glass.

“I need you  ”—

“What?” He gasped loudly, unable to believe what she was saying.

She chuckled at his response. “I need you to hand me the bottle of conditioner that’s on the counter.” Her dripping finger pointed over toward the vanity, where a tiny white bottle with a blue lid sat. “Do you see it?”

“Yes, I-I see it,” he said as he closed his hand tightly around the small bottle, keeping his eyes fixed on the counter. “What do you want me to do with it?” Grace’s laughter rang through the bathroom. “I need you to bring it over to me.  I’d get it myself, but I’m all wet and I’d probably slip and break my neck on the marble floor. Oh, and grab a washcloth on your way over here too, please.” “What?” Surely she didn’t expect me to …