Chapter Twenty-six
The rest of the night went pretty much exactly as Nick had promised. Her naked ass had been on every surface of both their hotel rooms. A few of their neighbors complained to hotel management about the noise, and one of them (*cough*Gage*cough) resorted to banging on the wall and shouting creative, anatomically impossible threats at them in an effort to get them to turn down the volume.
Normally, Grace would be embarrassed by the fact that everyone on their floor knew exactly what they’d been doing all night. (And, yes, they did indeed all know Nick’s name now) But at the moment? She couldn’t care any less if she tried. It seemed that, oh, twenty or so orgasms could wring shame and embarrassment right out of a girl.
And sometime around six in the morning, as she dropped limply onto Nick’s sweaty chest, completely spent, possibly dehydrated, and most likely ruined for all other men, shame was the farthest thing from her mind.
“Holy God,” Grace panted, pressing her forehead into the spot where Nick’s neck met his shoulder, taking a moment to appreciate the masculine scent of his skin, which was also all over every inch of her own body. Every. Inch. “What the hell was all that?”
Nick chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. “That’s what happens when you have days and days of foreplay.”
This was the first time they’d talked all night. Well, actual conversations, at least. Grace didn’t imagine the oh-God-yes-right-there and Jesus-yes-harder-faster exchanges they’d had really counted as conversations. And their time between condom changes had mostly been spent on kissing, gently roving hands, and some really intense eye contact. No one gave sexy eye contact like Nick O’Connor.
Grace shivered. Yep. It was official. She was ruined for all other men.
Nick must’ve mistaken her shiver for a chill, because he reached down, pulled the balled-up comforter off the floor, and draped it over her bare back. The fact that he was considerate, thoughtful, and a sex god was going to be a major problem for her when they both went their separate ways after the wedding.
The thought alone brought tears to Grace’s eyes and she was forced to choke back a sob.
“Hey,” Nick said, shoving his hands into her hair and gently pulling back so that she was forced to lift her head and meet his gaze. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re having regrets already.”
“Regrets?” Who the fuck would ever regret the kind of night they’d just had? “Are you insane? No way. It’s just that…”
He kissed her forehead, which was like an ice pick to her heart. Why the hell did he have to be so damn perfect?
“It’s just that what, angel?” he prompted gently.
“I’m just going to really miss you, is all,” she blurted, horrified that the tears she’d been blinking back now rolled down her cheeks and over her chin before landing in pathetic little puddles on his chest. “When the wedding is over and I go back to LA and you go back to Chicago, I’m really going to miss you, okay?”
His eyes roamed over her face as if her features held the secrets to all of life’s mysteries. When he brushed her tears away with his thumbs, her heart cracked open just a little more. “You don’t have to,” he whispered.
She frowned, confused. “I don’t have to what?”
“Miss me.” He shrugged. The gesture was careless, but the look in his eyes let her know his words were anything but. “I can work from LA just as easily as I can from Chicago. That’s one of the main benefits of the job. My apartment in Chicago is a month-to-month lease, and everything I own can fit into the back of my truck. There’s nothing there that’s really worth going back to, especially since Sadie’s not there anymore.”
Grace blinked down at him. “You’d…you’d consider moving to LA? For me?”
His smile was equal parts sweet and sinfully sexy, and it stirred her libido in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible after everything they’d done during the night. “After last night? I’d consider moving to a dirt-floor hut in the outer reaches of fucking nowhere for you, angel.”
He was heart-attack serious, Grace realized in amazement. He really would uproot his entire life to be with her. “Nick, we’ve known each other such a short amount of time. Is it crazy for us to be thinking like this?”
He reached down and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “Probably. But I don’t really care. Look, as amazing as last night was, there’s more to this—this connection between us—than just sex. I want to see where this goes. And there’s no way we can do that if we’re on opposite sides of the country. Do you feel the same?”
Grace bit her lip. “I do. But I feel like a really selfish bitch for letting you uproot your whole life so that we can, what, date?”
He leaned up and caught the lower lip she’d just bitten between his teeth, making her moan before letting go to whisper against her mouth, “I’ve never had anyone be selfish for me before. It’s crazy hot.”
She giggled. “You’re just saying that because I’m naked, on top of you, and only recently finished giving you an early morning blow job.”
He gave her ass a sharp swat with his free hand and grinned evilly when she yelped. “Always the argumentative lawyer, aren’t you?”
“It’s kind of my thing.” Her smile slipped as she added, “I’m serious, though. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”
He didn’t miss a beat before saying, “The only thing I’d regret is letting you go without figuring out exactly what this thing is between us.” He kissed her then, sending sparks through her entire body. “I need more time with you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get it.”
Grace lost a few seconds of coherent thought as he traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, but in a sudden burst of clarity, the enormity of their conversation dawned on her and she jerked up.
“Holy shit,” she squealed. “Did we just agree that you’re moving to LA?”
He laughed. “So, you’re OK with this?”
She shoved a hank of sweaty hair off her forehead and let her eyes rove over his face. He looked rumpled, sleepy-eyed, and gorgeous. And he was all hers. “Of course I am. I feel like I’m getting the better deal out of this.”
“No way,” he said quietly, pushing her hair behind her ears. “I’m a lucky man, angel.”
Grace shot her best naughty smile as she rocked her hips against him. “Not yet, but I think you’re going to get lucky again very soon.”
His eyes darkened a split second before he reversed their positions and flipped her onto her back. She let out an oomph that turned into a moan as he slid his tongue and lips down her neck, over her breasts, across her belly, then…lower.
“No,” he whispered against her inner thigh. “I think it’s your turn to get lucky again.”
She wanted to protest that it wasn’t her turn at all. In fact, if they were keeping score, she was ahead of him roughly three orgasms to one. But one long, hard stroke of his tongue through her wet folds obliterated that thought.
“Oh, God,” she murmured, her thighs falling apart helplessly. “I guess it’s my turn after all.”
And ten minutes later, everyone on their floor heard just how lucky Grace was.