EPILOGUE
Dorian
Four months later.
Grace set her scarlet satin purse on the dining room table, and removed her diamond stud earrings. She flashed him a smile as brilliant as the diamond-wreath necklace around her flawless neck.
The jewels didn’t have Dorian aching nearly as much as her form-fitting lace gown, the same color as her purse. Strapless, a tight bodice holding in her ample breasts, and satin draped from her waist to the ground in a waterfall of glamor. An open slit on the right side revealed up to her lower thigh. He could almost feel that silky leg squeezing around him.
“Why are you looking at me like you’re famished? You didn’t get enough to eat at the fundraiser?”
“Their menu didn’t offer anything that satisfied my appetite.”
Her blush extended down into her cleavage.
Dorian nearly groaned from wanting at the sight. He removed his suit jacket and draped it around one of his dining room chairs. “You certainly had a better turnout at this one. I told you having that Harley signed by celebrities would draw in a lot more tickets.”
She chuckled. “Thanks to you and your connections, you’ll be the best addition to the charity, setting up all those fundraisers.” Grace started pulling bobby pins out of her hair. Her long arms stretched over her head with an elegance that mesmerized him from the first day he saw her. The woman in 9C.
Now the woman who ruled over his own condo. His heart.
With a pull on the last bobby pin, her hair tumbled over her shoulders.
He nearly groaned with need.
“But I think one of the most attractive things about you is the way you make all those kids enjoy those monthly parties at the hospital. Complete with dance offs and glove puppet contests.”
“Who knew latex gloves could be so much fun?” He smirked, then came up behind her to comb his fingertips through her curls, rubbing against her scalp.
Grace hummed her approval, and tilted her head back. “I go through my whole day waiting for this moment.”
“Your personal catnip.”
“Better than drugs.”
She grabbed his hand, and started removing his cuff links. The black stone with the diamond chip off centered, his memento from the agency as a Knight.
That vocation now a closed chapter in his life.
“Did you expect your life to be like this six months ago?” Grace kissed his knuckles as the last cuff link came loose from his sleeve. “Event coordinator for charities and pediatric hospitals?”
“I certainly didn’t expect you to agree to date me, so, no.” Dorian kissed the arch of her neck, letting her perfume dance across his lips.
“Do you miss it?” She turned in his arms, and braced her arms around his shoulders.
He tilted his head, and waited a long moment before he answered. “I miss the free gym membership.”
Grace chuckled, and pressed her lips to his.
He opened for her, savoring each other’s tongues, and tasting the dessert that finished off their night of charity and dancing. So sweet, delectable, and never enough.
“I’m sure several hearts were broken when you quit.” She smiled against his mouth.
“Absolutely.”
Her eyes widened.
“Vaughn and Riggs are devastated.” He smiled. “But I promised Duane I’d still be around town to change his wi-fi password when he forgets. Old age is getting to him. He’s pushing fifty.”
Grace smirked. “No longer on his shit list, are you?”
Dorian shook his head. “I don’t like burning bridges. He’s a good guy, just hotheaded, and trying to protect his business.”
“How did you even meet him?”
He laughed, and slowly unzipped her dress from behind. “After the military, I hated the desert so much, I chose the water. Worked on a cruise ship for eight months. One of those entertainment coordinators, emceeing pool parties and stuff.”
“You’re kidding.”
“That’s where I met Vaughn, too. Would’ve been an awesome gig for me, if I hadn’t been deathly seasick every voyage. Not even Dramamine helped. On my last voyage, the cruise line arranged a photo shoot for some of the male employees, for their spring break campaign, Hotties of the Sea. I only agreed because Vaughn insisted. Duane was a guest, and saw how we handled the shoot. Offered us both a job on the spot.”
“And since you were already miserable with nausea, you figured—”
“For a guy not ready to grow roots yet, it was a great way to do what I love. Meet new people, have fun, and enjoy life. Look who I met…” Dorian let her dress slip to the floor, pooling at her red heels.
“Some might call that the Peter Pan syndrome…not wanting to grow up.” Grace threw a smile over her shoulder.
“All I have to do is sprinkle my magic fairy dust. With all the fun we have, why hurry into growing up?”
“Who says grownups can’t have fun, too?”
The End