CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gracie strode into a large meeting room and glanced around. At least twenty agents or editors had situated themselves at various stations to provide some privacy while they met with authors.
Dondi Gable was still talking to someone, so Gracie helped herself to a cup of coffee from one of the large urns and a powdered donut. Thank goodness her suit jacket was white, to help hide dropped sugar. She’d only gotten a few bites ingested when Dondi scurried over for more coffee.
“I wish I could have an IV hooked up to this thing. I just can’t seem to get enough caffeine this morning.” She smiled at Gracie. “Too much alcohol last night. I love these conventions, but my liver doesn’t.” She sipped from her cup. “Are you Gracie Luera? My next appointment?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Well, grab a refill and another donut, then come join me.” Dondi studied the selection and chose a chocolate covered éclair. “Matches my hat, don’t you think?” Her hat of the day had a brown crown and a yellow brim with smiley faces printed on the brown ribbon at the base of the crown.
It was one freakin’ butt-ugly hat.
Once they sat and Dondi had Gracie’s form in front of her, the agent sipped her coffee while studying it. “So, you write erotic under the name Raven Sylk.” She tapped her long fingernail on some jotted notes. “I checked your sales. For an independent author, you’re doing fairly well.” She looked into Gracie’s eyes. “I’ve met so many women this weekend, but you seem especially familiar. Have we met someplace else?”
Crap. She might as well confess. Lying never came easy. She rubbed the new jade pendant between her thumb and index finger. Not that she believed in good luck amulets, but she could use some help right about now.
“Yes, you have. In an elevator, wearing a short red dress with my arms and legs wrapped around a guy wearing alligator boots.”
Dondi covered her face and laughed. “Oh, holy hell on a mackerel, what an elevator ride.” She slid a contract in front of Gracie. “Read this before you sign it. Any woman who can handle herself the way you did, and still get the guy, is one of my newest favorite people. My God, what a scene! I laugh every time I think of it.”
“You’re offering me a contract? Just like that?” This couldn’t be happening. Dondi Gable had a reputation for being uber picky in choosing her clients.
“Well, let’s talk about what you want from your career. What do you do besides write? Tell me about you as a person first. Then move onto you as a writer.”
Fifteen minutes later Gracie floated out of the conference room, signed with a top-notch agent. She flopped into the nearest comfy chair and pulled out her phone to text Webb. “Your necklace worked. Dondi signed me as her newest client. I have a top-notch agent. Can you believe it?”
She pulled the signed contract from her briefcase and stared at it. Rapid blinking forced back tears. Another step in her writing career obtained. A chime indicated an incoming text.
“Not the necklace, angel, fantastic you. Congrats!”
“Wish me luck talking to the basketball players I’m interested in. You know how big-feeling athletes can be.”
“I wouldn’t know.” She laughed at his smartass reply and headed for the exit.
Four long, hot hours later, Gracie oozed out of the heat into the coolness of the hotel. One of the recruit’s homes she’d visited had no A/C. She was sweating in places she never perspired, except during sports practice. Or with a handsome man during red-hot sex. The corners of her lips curved upward. She’d been doing her fair share of sex sweating lately. Her nipples peaked in sweet memory.
Yay me!
New York City in July was sweltering. As soon as she got to her room, she was rehydrating and stripping down.
She strode into one of the many shops lining the one wall of the lobby and bought two bottles of iced water, a bag of potato chips, and a copy of the Times of New York City. While she waited in line at the register, her naughty hand sneaked out and grabbed two chocolate bars. Bad hand. Bad hand.
When she opened the door to her room, a vase of pink roses sat on her table. Gracie toed off her heels and opened one of the bottles of water to gulp several long swallows. She padded to the huge bouquet, leaned to inhale the fragrance of the roses, and sighed with pleasure.
How long had it been since someone had sent her flowers? Never, really. None of the guys she’d dated, back in the day of her attraction to jerks in jeans, were prone to displays of affection, except for a little ass grabbing.
Tugging the card from the small envelope attached to a plastic holder, she read, To Angel from her admiring Devil and if you don’t know who the hell he is, he’s going to be damn pissed.
She laughed out loud. Webb wrote with a definite theme in mind, that was for sure.
He was certainly pouring on the charm. She might as well enjoy it while it lasted. In two days, she’d be flying to Baltimore to see another hopeful college bound hoopster and then heading home to Coeur d’Alene. Back to the beautiful natural lake surrounded by mountains that took her breath away every time she stepped on the campus and took in the view.
Yes, Webb talked about working on a relationship, but she’d learned not to believe the promises of a bad boy. She wouldn’t argue with him. She’d just enjoy their time together for a few days and try her best to forget him—if she could.
She took off her suit and hung it up before opening the bag of chips. One of the perfect roses caught her eye and she pulled it from the vase to rub its satiny petals over her face. Such a sensual touch.
Flopping across the bed, she ran the bloom over the swells of her breasts, thinking of the man who’d sent the flowers to her. She did her best not to imagine what he would do to her with those rosebuds. Webb could be an inventive lover. She pushed her thighs together at all the memories they’d made already.
It was time to change her train of thought. The man could so easily become an addiction and she barely knew him. Still, she owed him a call to thank him for the flowers. She dialed him number.
“Angel?”
“Yes. I’m calling to thank the devil for the beautiful roses he sent me. They’re beautiful. I’m running a rosebud over my breasts right now.”
There was a beat of silence. “I can’t talk on the phone with a hard-on.”
She started to laugh. “Well, hold the phone higher then.”
“Oh, you need a spanking.” He laughed too. “Are your meetings done?”
“Yes. I’ve got at least three hours for a nap before my girlfriend picks me up.”
“Let’s do something together. How about a ferry ride to Ellis Island to see the Statue of Liberty? Have you ever seen it?”
“No.” She hadn’t planned on doing any sightseeing while here, but doing so with Webb would be a nice bonus.
“Me neither. Let’s go together. I’ll get the tickets. Cooper and I will pick you up out front. Hey, maybe tomorrow we could go to the nine-eleven memorial.”
“I’d love that.” She ended the call and took a quick shower to freshen up. Putting her damp hair in a high pony tail, she slipped into a pair of jean shorts, a yellow tank top and sandals. Once outside, she didn’t have long to wait for Coop’s car to ease agaist the curb.
Webb got out and opened the back door for her. He rocked a pair of jeans, tight at all the best places, and a white t-shirt. His arm reached out to hook her to him and he greeted her with a hug and kiss. “I was right; your legs look terrific in and out of clothes.” He took her hand. “Hop in. We’ll neck while Coop gets us to Lower Manhattan to catch the ferry.”
They held hands and smiled as they looked at each other. “This is the first time I’ve seen you out of a suit.”
Webb snorted. “You need to learn to keep your eyes open when we make love.”
“Hey!” Cooper growled. “TMI, man.”
Horns honked. Cars straddled lanes. Fingers were given in silent salute. Five-lane streets had six rows of cars trying to maneuver as quickly as possible.
“Is traffic always this bad, Cooper? I’m used to two or three lane roads in the part of Idaho I’m from, but this seems chaotic. Doesn’t it get on your nerves?” It got on hers.
“This is normal. Rain and snow compounds it. Why do you think so many folks in New York drink?” All three of them laughed. When Coop dropped them off, he told Webb to text him when they got back and he’d pick them up.
Holding hands, they ran to the line at the ferry dock. With his arms wrapped around her waist, she leaned back against him. He kissed the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder.
“How did your session go with your therapist?”
“Rough as hell. I had three forty-five minute meetings, with an hour break between each one to walk and think. Tomorrow, the sessions increase to an hour.”
She turned and hugged him. “I know you can do this, hero. No matter how rough it gets.”
They were finally able to get on the ferry. Webb entwined his fingers with hers. “Let’s sit and relax. I want to hear about your day with the recruits.”
“Ugh. As you know I saw two, Darius and Noah. Darius has an attitude problem. He thinks he’s too good for college. Says he’s waiting to hear from the NBA draft.”
Webb tucked her to his side. “Is he that good?” He stared at her, waiting while his hand stroked up and down her arm.
“His stats were outstanding for a high school player, they’re not fantastic enough to garner the attention of any NBA recruiters though. Not in my opinion, anyhow. I studied his game tapes. He’s a strong shooter, but he’s not consistent. He hogs the ball.”
Webb stretched out his legs. “Not a team player?”
She shook her head. “It’s hard to reprogram a player who’s hooked on personal glory. His math grades were lacking, too. While the college would provide additional academic help, Darius would need to bring a strong can-do attitude. When I mentioned his lack of pro-level skills and lackluster GPA, both Darius and his father cussed me out.”
The man beside her tensed. “That smartass motherfucker.”
“Yeah, well, intuition told me to rescind the offer. As a coach, I don’t need his self-important arrogance and drama.”
“I would imagine as your team’s name grows in stature, more athletes apply to play for you. I’m betting every year, the quality of your pool of prospects improves.”
Gracie nodded, pleased he was interested in her job. “The problem is the college’s remote location. For many, the beautiful mountain scenery is a strong drawl. Skiing, snowboarding, and ice skating call to the spirit of the adventurous. For city kids who are used to a different lifestyle, the area is too dull. Not enough bright lights and dark streets, or the type of action they’ve grown up around.”
“I knew a lot of guys in the SEALs like that. Some could handle isolated mission sites. Others got antsy as hell.”
“Which type were you?”
He shrugged and looked away. “The type to hide how I felt. To bury everything.” It was quiet for a few beats before his attention returned to her. “Tell me about the other kid you saw.”
“He was totally different. Noah is tired of hearing gunfire in the night. He told me he’s suffocating under the neighborhood’s thick blanket of fear. I have a video of the mountainous area, including the campus, lake, and town I always show the potential student and parents.
“I make a point of emphasizing that life is slower there and getting used to such a drastic culture change might not be easy. Spokane, Washington, is less than fifty miles away. Students with cars often made weekend jaunts there to get some nightlife, although Coeur d’Alene has its own share.”
Webb took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “What was Noah’s reaction to the video?”
She welcomed Webb’s touches of affection and kissed his cheek. “My hero.”
“Always, sweetheart.”
“Noah claimed it looked like paradise. His mother wiped tears from her eyes. She agreed. His English scores are low though. As a test of his determination to play college ball, I gave him a list of three books to read and questions to answer. I scheduled days and times for us to Skype and go over what he’s read.”
“You’re one determined woman.” Webb kissed her forehead.
“Well, I have hopes for the kid. Noah has a good attitude and was polite. No doubt his mother’s influence. Parents are so important to a child’s success. Unfortunately, so is peer pressure.”
Webb stood and extended his hand. “The ferry’s docking at Liberty Island. Let’s watch.” Seagulls flew overhead and Webb cussed when one crapped on the shoulder of his shirt. Gracie pulled a pack of tissues from her purse, laughing as she wiped it off. Their eyes made contact and his palm settled in the small of her back.
The world stilled for a minute. “You’re perfect for me, angel.” His lips covered hers in warmth and passion. They disembarked the ferry and holding hands toured the immigration museum. “I’m a history buff, Gracie. Are you?”
She leaned over the glass counters, taking in everything she could. “Oh, yes. Thanks for suggesting this. It’s fabulous.”
“We needed time together outside the bedroom. And I needed to unwind after today. For me, believe it or not, that means being with you. Don’t worry, you’ll be back in time to meet your friend.”
“I hope so. We’ve never seen each other in person before. She and I communicate by email.”
Once they returned to the hotel, Webb walked her to the door of her room. His one arm arched over her head above the door. His other hand settled at her waist. “Are you the kind of girl that kisses a guy on a first date?” He waggled his eyebrows at her in that comical way he had. “You know I kind of dig the pony tail look. Makes me want to chew on your neck.” He leaned in and nipped her at a few places.
She grabbed his face and brought it to hers for a kiss. Then another. “I enjoyed our first time out together. Now, go.” He sauntered away and she couldn’t resist using a line she’d written in one of her books. “Those jeans cup your ass cheeks like a pair of lover’s hands.” His steps faltered and his head hung. He shook it before moving on.
Soon after she was back in her room, the cell chimed and Bethany’s picture flashed on the screen. “Hey, Gracie! Are we still on for tonight?”
“Lord, yes! I can’t wait to see you.” Gracie was full of excitement.
“I found the perfect outfit for you to wear at the club tonight. You’ll love it. Dress casual and we’ll change in the club’s locker room. Did you get your Brazilian wax?” Bethany talked like a locomotive rolling downhill.
“No. I was too busy before the trip. Do I really need a bald hoochie?”
Bethany heaved a sigh. “The only way a Dom will overlook a hairy pussy would be if you corn-rolled it. They insist on bald hoo-hahs.”
Webb had told Gracie he preferred his women waxed. “Okay. I’ll shave.”
“Isn’t there a place to get a massage in that fancy schmancy hotel? Call and schedule a wax. I’ll be there around eight-thirty. All you’ll need to bring is your bad self and your room key.” Bethany squealed. “I’ve got a hug all saved up for you, girlfriend. We’ll meet at last.”
“I know.” Gracie smiled.
“I can’t wait to introduce you to people tonight. We’re going to have so much fun, watching Doms and subs do scenes while we get all hot and bothered. Maybe a Dom will claim us for the night and give us some fun and fulfillment. See you out front at eight-thirty, Gracie…Raven…horny ho.”
She laughed and ended the call. She reached for the newspaper and a bar of chocolate. The first thing she did was pull out the most important section while she unwrapped the candy. The photo and headline at the top of the sports page shocked her. One long look at the picture and she crammed the complete chocolate bar into her mouth. Holy hell, it was Webb and her gazing at each other as if … as if …hell, as if they were in love or something.
This insta-love silliness had gone on long enough. Sure they enjoyed their time together, but nothing like what the paper displayed. Her heart beat faster than she could dribble a ball down the court. She choked on the melting chocolate and reached for a bottle of water. Holy crap, if her attraction to him was this obvious in a newspaper photo, think what messages she must be sending in real life.
Her gaze swept to the beautiful bouquet of roses and tears filled her eyes. She really was attracted to the sexy, commanding man. And that totally scared her.
After all she’d done to get over her weakness for the bad boy types, what happened? She warmed up to the first dominant male she’d encountered. Would she ever learn?
She wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to bring the newspaper photo back into focus. Oh hell, would she ever learn how weak she could be around a man? Especially one as likable as Webb—and, God help her, she really did like him. He had this way of making her feel as if she was the most important woman in his world. She knew better. Even so, the momentary rush of what he could make her feel was something new. If only it were true. If only they hadn’t just met. If only her timing and judgment of men were better.