nine
Rebecca and I had a blast getting caught up over dinner. She told me all about the stalkers, the Time fans coming to Jack’s appearances, and the paparazzi trailing him constantly now. Because he’d had me otherwise occupied in the car, I hadn’t noticed the car following us, carrying his new security guard. The guard now went out with Jack for high-profile events, and even not-so-high-profile events like a simple dinner. That would take some getting used to.
We got to the restaurant rather quickly, so there was no chance for actual sexy times, just the promise of sexy times. The panties had very nearly come off, though, and I was now hypersexual. Everything was turning me on: the way he drank his wine, the way he twirled his pasta, the way he licked his lips to catch a drop of sauce. And was it me, or was he massaging that breadstick?
I had to excuse myself from the table. I needed some air; he was seriously driving me crazy.
Rebecca followed me to the ladies’ room. “Is he trying to make you self-combust?” she asked, raising an all-knowing eyebrow in the mirror.
“Jesus, yes! You noticed it too?”
“Oh shit, girl, he is on. He misses you so much. I almost feel dirty, watching the display of table sexing going on . . . but I’m totally going to watch.” She laughed at my expression.
“He’s killing me. I almost can’t stand it,” I admitted, fanning myself.
“Grace, I have to tell you, he’s so in love with you,” she said, reapplying her lipstick.
I stopped fanning and looked at her.
“Why do you say that?” I asked, really interested in what she was going to say.
“He talks about you all the time. And he really misses you. You should’ve seen him in his interviews today. He was bouncing out of his seat, checking his watch. Y’know, he tries to play it so cool, but he’s just an idiot. Those fangirls think he’s all sexy scientist man, but he’s really just a British goober who adores his girlfriend.”
I was so glad he had a friend like her. She really got him.
“He is kind of an idiot, isn’t he?” I laughed, thinking of him back at the table. Massaging his breadstick.
But he’s your idiot.
Yes, he really just is.
“All boys are idiots when they’re in blue-ball hell. You need to make sure he gets plenty tonight. I can barely contain myself, with all the sex vibes being thrown around, and he’s like a brother to me!” She laughed as we walked back to the table.
We arrived to find the security guard, talking quietly to Jack. I slid into my chair, grasping Jack’s hand on the way and kissing his knuckles as he curled his hand around mine.
“Hey, love. Miss me?” he asked quietly.
“I did, actually. Are we leaving soon?” I waggled my eyebrows suggestively.
He exchanged a glance with Joe, then looked back at me.
“Well, yes. Soon. But you should know there are a bunch of photographers outside. You okay with that?” His concern for me showed on his face.
I took a deep breath.
“Grace, you can walk out with me,” Rebecca said. “We’ll play this off. They don’t need to know you were here with the Jack Hamilton. You were here with the slightly-less-well-known-but-equally-hot Rebecca Lake,” she said, fluffing her hair and striking a pose.
I took another deep breath.
This was going to happen eventually. It was surprising that it hadn’t happened yet. If I hadn’t moved to New York, I probably would’ve been identified long before now. But Rebecca was right. I could walk out with her and meet Jack back at the hotel.
“It’s cool. I’ll do whatever you want, Jack. You know that.” I placed a finger over his lips as he started to comment on my very easily misinterpreted statement. “But for everyone involved, it’s probably better if I walk out with Rebecca, don’t you think?” I giggled as he tried to nibble on my finger.
“Yes, yes, it would be better, I suppose.” He sighed heavily.
“I’ll get a cab and meet you at the hotel.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Grace,” he said. “We can all ride in the same car. Just don’t let them photograph us together.”
I rolled my eyes, but decided to let him have this one. We stood up and made our way to the front of the restaurant. Rebecca went out first, with me following, but when I saw the flashes, I froze a little. She smiled, took my arm, and guided me to the car. I tried to hide my face without looking like I was trying to, but who knows if I actually pulled it off. Jack followed a moment later, grinning for the cameras.
We all piled into a black Suburban with tinted windows and sped away toward the Plaza. Jack and I held hands in the backseat, talking quietly. We dropped Rebecca off first, then once we got near the Plaza, I insisted he drop me off in front of Bergdorf’s so I could walk the last block or so.
“Now you’re just being silly, Grace,” Jack pouted.
“No, I’m being realistic. Your movie comes out in less than two weeks, and the last thing you need is to make your fans think you’re unavailable. We can discuss this again once things have mellowed a bit.”
This brief encounter with what he went through on a daily basis had confirmed what I already knew about how I’d be treated if the press found out he was dating someone—especially someone older.
He pulled me to him for one last kiss. “Room 1309. And, Grace?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t wait too long,” he whispered, kissing me slowly.
I kissed him back, then slipped from the car. The cool air did nothing to cool me down as I walked around the block, dodging the still-thick pedestrian traffic on the sidewalks. After circling once, I figured enough time had gone by, and I headed toward the Plaza.
When I got to his room, I found the door slightly ajar. When I entered, I saw that my Brit had been busy. There were candles lit throughout the room, and he was waiting. He still wore his black pants, but the sweater had come off, revealing a long-sleeved white T-shirt, untucked and slightly slouchy.
“Hey,” I said, setting my bag down.
“Hey yourself,” he answered, taking a sip of his wine. He had a bottle of red open on the sideboard, and he’d poured a glass for me.
I crossed to him, picking up my wine. He didn’t move, but his eyes followed me. I raised the glass to my lips, sipping slowly. I felt the warmth slip down the back of my throat and rolled the taste around on my tongue. A slow smile crept across my face.
He ran his hand through his hair and grinned sexily at me.
I began to unbutton my coat, and he said, “Slower.”
My eyes widened, and then I understood.
“Slower, huh?” I asked in a low voice.
He nodded.
I set my glass down, biting back a smile, and let my hands return to the buttons on my long coat. I slipped each one of them open, slowly and methodically. I watched as he watched me, his eyes following my movements. Once the coat was unbuttoned, I allowed the leather to slide down my arms, then laid it on a chair. His eyes traveled the length of my body and back again, the green noticeably darker once they returned to mine.
I smiled, enjoying his reaction. I tugged on my scarf and the ends trailed down my skin as it unwound, the fringe catching on the edge of my low neckline. His breath was coming faster now.
I was breathing rather heavily too, and I could feel my cheeks flushing. I bent over slowly, allowing the V-neck of my dress to fall open for a little peek. I removed one boot, then the other, unzipping at an almost unbearably slow pace. He took another sip of his wine, then hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and leaned back against the dresser.
His eyes were dark, dark green now.
I untied the bow holding my dress together but kept it closed, covering myself as long as we could stand it. That turned out to be not much longer, as he finally pushed himself off the dresser and came to me. His hands went to my hips, causing the dress to open slightly, revealing what I had on underneath.
“Mmm, Gracie. That’s my bad girl,” he whispered as his now almost-black eyes took in the deep-red lace bra and panties I was wearing especially for him.
“You like?” I teased, letting my dress puddle on the floor at my feet.
“Very much,” he said breathlessly, his fingers tracing a path from my collarbone to my navel.
My breath caught and my back arched to keep contact with his touch. My hands quickly came up behind him and pulled off his shirt, tossing it over my shoulder.
“I like it very much too,” I purred, running my hands over his chest and down to his navel, circling it with my fingertips. He twitched, and I looked at his mouth. His teeth were biting down slightly on his lower lip, and I knew I needed to kiss him, now.
But before I had a chance, he sank to his knees in front of me. His hands moved to the small of my back, pulling my body closer to his. My hands tucked into his silky curls, and I ran my fingers through them and made them stand straight up. I pressed his face into my tummy, hearing him sigh as his lips made contact with my skin.
His fingers slipped under the band of my panties and slowly dragged them down, revealing my body to him. He gazed at me once I was bare before him, then looked up at me, his eyes shining.
“Brilliant,” he said, running a hand from my bottom to my knee and hooking my leg over his shoulder.
I caressed his face as my body tensed in anticipation of his touch. He nuzzled at me, and I gripped him for balance. His lips found the space where my leg joined my hip, and he kissed me.
“Fucking brilliant,” he whispered, letting his tongue trace where my panties had been.
I moaned at the feel of him, at the sweet fluttering of his tongue and lips as he swept me open. His soft lips met me, and as he probed me with his tongue, I could feel the want and need I had for him, that was always there, begin to build.
He stood quickly and lifted me, removing my bra as he carried me to the bed.
The sight of him, shirtless and about to make me see God, was something I’d never tire of seeing, and I panted at the thought of what was about to happen.
He laid me down and stood over me, his hands sweeping across my body. My shoulders, my breasts, my tummy, my hips, my thighs, and finally his fingers found me, nudging my legs open, revealing me to him.
“You’re so beautiful, Gracie,” he murmured, and bent his head to me. His tongue found me instantly, and as he stroked me, I cried out at the perfection that was him.
No one would ever know my body as well as he did, and no one would ever make me feel the way he could.
His hands held me on the bed as my body thrashed. His mouth and lips and tongue brought wave after wave crashing over me, making me moan, groan, sigh, cry, and finally scream his name.
“Oh, God, mmm, Jack, Jack, Jack!” I screamed, feeling as though my insides were bursting. He hovered over my body, the intense pleasure beginning to ebb as he took me down slowly, his tongue gently sweeping, lips kissing, teeth nibbling, as he made his way to my inner thigh.
“Hmm, this appears to be fading. Can’t have that.” He chuckled and bit down, making his Hamilton Brand stronger.
The combination of the crazy orgasms he’d just given me and the exquisite pain of his teeth brought me out of my dream state and back into reality.
A reality where Jack was still wearing pants.
I pulled him up my body and flipped him on his back. His surprise at my sudden attack quickly turned to passion as I kissed him fiercely, almost bruising his lips. I struggled to remove his pants, and he finally lay naked before me, gloriously naked.
And gloriously hard.
I grasped his hands in mine, kicked one leg over him, and positioned myself.
His eyes watched me in the same way he’d watched me remove my clothes earlier—with lust and want.
I winked and slid down on top of him. We both groaned at the feel of him filling me up again. His hips thrust upward as I rocked backward, and he hit me so deep I almost cried right there.
“Jesus, Grace, I missed you,” he moaned as I began to move up and down on him, his hands unclasping from mine so he could hold on to my hips and grind farther into me.
“I know, I missed you too,” I answered, my pace beginning to quicken as I felt myself getting close again.
He sat up, pulling my legs around his waist so he could thrust deeper into me, then bent his head to my neck, kissing and sucking as I threw my head back and held on tightly to his shoulders.
“You are so sexy,” he growled, pumping into me fiercely.
I loved Aggressive Jack. “I’m only sexy because you’re so good to me,” I moaned in his ear, knowing how he liked it when I talked to him.
He growled again, lifting my hips and slamming me back into him, causing me to scream out his name once more. He hit that spot, that J-Spot, and then I was coming all around him.
“Fuck yes, Grace. That’s so good,” he moaned, and then my beautiful man made the beautiful face that he alone can make: jaw clenched, eyes shut tightly, lips parted, and brow furrowed as he came in me.
“Brilliant,” I whispered, clutching him to me, taking in his deep breaths as he collapsed against my chest. He rested his head on my shoulder as I held him.
“I love you, sweet girl,” he whispered, kissing the space between my breasts.
“I love you too, Jack.” I kissed his forehead.
We slept together all night, tangled in the sheets.
And his hands? Where do you think?
Jack flew back to L.A. the next morning after we had naked pancakes and naked waffles. I put him in a cab for the airport, knowing I would see him very soon. It was getting easier to say good-bye.
He spent the next few days doing interviews, photo shoots, and TV shows. He interviewed with The Tonight Show and Ellen and all the others, and he consistently sent me secret messages through the inane answers he gave the interviewers. Nice . . .
Countless photos began to appear in magazines, and he was truly becoming the next big thing. His name was on everyone’s lips, his face was on every cover, and he spent his evenings alone in his hotel room, giggling like a boy on the phone with me as we talked for hours and hours. The sexiest man alive was a closet Golden Girls fan.
The next week in rehearsals, I made sure everything was as it should be so I could justify taking a weekend off right before the final touches were put on the show. A few members of the local theater press showed up at the last day of rehearsal, specially invited by Michael, and I actually spent a few minutes being interviewed about the show and my role! No one had ever interviewed me before, and though it was nowhere near the stratospheric level (and climbing) of Jack’s success, it was a victory for little ol’ me. I was proud of the work I was doing, and any time spent talking about the show was time well spent. I even had a “pinch-me” moment when a reporter asked me to spell my name for him: I might soon see it in print! I marveled at the life I was living and the good fortune I’d been granted for a second shot at this career.
As Jack geared up for the biggest night of his life, Leslie and I shopped for a dress worthy of a red-carpet premiere, and—although I don’t know if it was him or me—Michael and I spent no time alone together all week.
Finally, it was the day of my flight back to L.A. I was packed and ready to go. I took a cab to the airport, with my dress folded carefully away.
I was going home.