The Mistresses

Adam knew he was pushing. But the more he learned about Grace, the more he realized that his knowing about her fantasies was going to wound her. She gave off the image of being so superefficient and competent that only tonight had he glimpsed the vulnerabilities she had underneath.

He didn’t want her to think he’d exploited those weaknesses. And guilt ate at him. Omissions were lies, he thought. Hell, he knew that omissions were the biggest kind of lies.

But he wanted to hear from her lips that she found him attractive. That he hadn’t imagined the story that he’d reread during the day about five times. He knew exactly what she liked. How she wanted a man who was forceful in the bedroom but sensitive and understanding outside.

To be honest, that wasn’t how he normally operated with a woman, but everything about Grace was different. She made him want to be more. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t explain it to himself. But tonight, with a cool breeze in the air and the fragrance of the blooming vegetation around his pool filling the air, he didn’t care.

He didn’t want to think of anything other than this woman and how he could convince her she’d be safe in his arms. And he wanted her in his arms. He wanted her mouth under his with no dinner buzzer about to go off. No crowded restaurant of people too close to them. Just the two of them and the night and nothing between them.

“Come on, Grace, what did you think about me the first time we met?” he asked, having the feeling that she was going to just keep quiet and let the conversation die an awkward death.

“It’s complicated,” she said, leaving the deck and walking toward the pool. She stopped by a potted hibiscus and bent to smell the bloom.

She ran whenever he pushed too far into her barriers. The ones she used to keep everyone at arm’s length. She was subtle and only someone who spent a significant amount of time with her as he had today would notice it.

“I understand complicated. Is it such a bad impression that you’re worried about hurting my feelings?”

“Give me a break. You must know that no one has a bad first impression of you.”

“I don’t know that, Gracie. You won’t tell me what you thought.”

She took a deep breath and faced him, her eyes alive with an emotion he couldn’t name. “I thought, this man is someone who knows how to really live his life.”

He was taken aback by her comment. To be honest, he’d been fishing for a compliment. Having read her story, he knew she liked his shoulders and his backside. He was chagrined to realize that he’d expected her impressions to just be physical. If they had been, he would have felt comfortable using the physical attraction between the two of them to seduce her.

“Not what you were expecting?” she asked.

“No,” he said. What she’d observed in him revealed what she herself was afraid she was missing. It took him a moment to identify fragility and fear as the emotions in her eyes. Grace didn’t lie, either. The knowledge made him feel protective of her.

“Well, there it is. You also have very nice eyes.”

She took a step closer to him. There were still a few inches of space between them, but she’d made a move toward him—the first she’d made since they met. He was a little thrown by her compliment. Nice eyes? “No one has ever mentioned that before.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Probably because they were busy ogling your physique.”

“Ah, that’s more what I was expecting.”

She laughed at him. But there was something in her eyes that told him she’d said it to distract him. And he let her because he already knew more of her secrets than he intended. More than she’d probably intended him to know.

“Anything specific about my physique?” he asked, letting her turn this moment a little lighter. He had to touch her again. She’d left her hair down. The silky length of it fell around her shoulders, curling gently.

He caught one of the curls and let it wrap around his hand and wrist, drawing her closer to him. She was short, shorter than he’d realized until he held her in his arms. She came only to his shoulders.

He lowered his head, brushing his lips against hers. He felt her fingers move restlessly on him and wished he didn’t have his shirt on so he could feel her touch on his skin.

Her fingers were small and her touch light. So light and tentative, as if she wasn’t sure what to do next. He groaned deep in his chest, thinking of this fragile, beautiful woman and wondering if he had a right to touch her like this. Because he was a rambler. A rolling stone that had learned that life was less painful when he kept moving. He didn’t notice the emptiness when he moved from place to place.

And if ever a woman was rooted to one place, it was Grace.

She opened her lips under his and he stopped thinking. He just felt. The soft brush of her tongue over the seam of his lips made his blood flow heavy. He felt a tingle of arousal spread down his spine. He pulled her closer with his hand in her hair at the back of her neck.

His other hand skimmed down her curves to rest on her hip, drawing her into his body before he took control of the kiss, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth and tasting her deeply. The flavor of the wine they’d had with dinner was on her tongue, but also something he was beginning to identify with only Grace. That was what he hungered for. More Grace.

He lifted her to his body, canted his hips and wrapped his arm strongly around her hips to enable him to kiss her deeper. To thrust his tongue into her mouth again and again, trying to assuage a hunger that he’d never had before. A hunger that made all the emptiness in his life pale in comparison. A hunger that came from this small, complicated woman.

Five

He traced her lips, his finger following the path his mouth had taken a few moments earlier. He caressed the pulse point where he’d suckled her neck and then moved lower.

His stomach was rock hard and rippled when he moved. He reached around her back and unhooked her bra and then pushed the cups up out of his way. He pulled her closer until the tips of her breasts brushed his chest.

“Grace.” He said her name like a promise.

Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace

He overwhelmed her. Adam had literally swept Grace off her feet and she didn’t care. For once it felt good to just forget about everything and feel. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave herself up to his embrace.

She shifted restlessly in his arms, trying to get closer to him. She felt the world spinning around her and found and felt the padded cushion of a lounge chair under her back. Adam pulled back for a second, shifting her to her side and sliding down on the chair next to her. He pulled her back into his arms.

Actually being in his embrace, feeling the length of his body pressed against hers was so much better than she’d imagined. He was dominant and a little aggressive but she felt cherished in his arms. She knew he’d never hurt her. She was startled by that thought. It had been years since she’d thought of a man’s strength being used against her.

He traced his hand over her face as if he were memorizing her features. There was so much heat in his eyes, she was surprised she could still breathe. She wanted to feed that fire and make him forget the outer trappings of the plain woman she’d worked so hard to project. But she wanted to be equal to him in this moment. She wanted to be alive instead of just blending into the background.

She tunneled her fingers through his hair, holding his head still. He waited for her to make her next move. She shifted in his arms so that her head was above his, her elbows resting on his chest, and she lowered her mouth to his. Rubbed her lips over his. Because she wanted to make this moment last forever.

She wanted to remember every millisecond of this kiss and how he tasted and felt. His lips were firm and strong and she just breathed into his mouth for a second before sliding her tongue beyond his teeth deep into his mouth.

He groaned and tightened his hand on the back of her head, rolling her to her side again so that she was cradled in the crook of his arm as he took complete control of the kiss. His other hand rubbed her back, then slowly slipped around to the front of her body. He rested his hand on her abdomen and she tensed, knowing she wasn’t model slim or perfect, but he soothed her with long, drugging kisses that proved he was attracted to her.

Really attracted. She couldn’t think as he unbuttoned her blouse. He pulled back from her mouth, trailing kisses down her jaw to her neck. He buried his face against her and inhaled deeply and she held him to her. As he nibbled on her skin, his tongue found the pulse beating strongly at the base of her neck and suckled it.

Shivers coursed down her arms and torso. Her breasts felt full and achy and she arched in his arms, trying to rub them against his chest. But there was just enough distance between their bodies that she couldn’t.

He put his hand between her breasts. His palm, hot against her skin where the edges of her blouse parted, made her nipples tighten and she tried to rotate her shoulders to bring them in contact with his hand. But he held her still underneath him.

He pushed the sleeves of her blouse down her arms. She sat up to let him remove it. She reached for the buttons on his shirt, wanting to keep things equal between them because she knew she was already out of control.

He urged her back again, with his hand between her breasts, and leaned up over her, his hand moving over her torso. Her breasts were covered by the lacy cups of her bra and her stomach was only partially visible, her suit skirt covering her belly button. She was wearing control-top panty hose, she thought, but then he brought a finger to her face.

Tracing a path down her nose to her mouth, he outlined her lips and then moved lower, his finger following the path his mouth had taken a few minutes earlier. He caressed the pulse point where he’d suckled her neck and then feathered over the fabric of her bra, tracing the edges until she was shifting underneath him, trying to get him to touch her without having to ask.

He slid his finger under the fabric of her bra and caressed the globe of her breast briefly before withdrawing and tracing the line between her breasts down to the waistband of her skirt.

He did this over and over again until she was out of her mind with needing him.

She grabbed his hand and placed it over her breast. Held his palm over her lace-covered nipple and rubbed herself against him. She closed her eyes and shifted under him. Needing more.

He tugged his hand out from under hers and lowered his head. His warm breath brushed over her distended nipple first, then his lips rubbed back and forth over her before she felt the delicate bite of his teeth.

She moaned, wanting so much more. There was an ache deep inside her that she thought would never be alleviated. He started suckling her breast. Her legs moved restlessly and she tried to draw him over her. She wanted his weight on her. She wanted something solid to hold on to while his mouth drove her further down the path of arousal.

She felt his hand on her thigh, moving up a pantyhose-clad leg and under her skirt. He continued to suckle her as his fingers teased her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the warm center of her body. To the place where she wanted to feel his fingers so badly. But he held her in his embrace, building her passion to the breaking point but not letting her go over.

He moved to her other breast and the cool evening air on her wet, tight nipple made her groan again. She moved her hands restlessly up and down his back and finally she felt his hand slip under the waistband of her panty hose.

He rested his hand on her lower stomach, lifted his head and glanced down at her. Waiting for permission to touch her so intimately. She knew she’d die if he didn’t but she had no words to say what she wanted.

“Please, Adam.”

He smiled at her, lowering his head to take her mouth again in a passionate kiss while his fingers moved through the damp curls between her legs.

Adam hadn’t meant the evening to go as far as it had, but there was something so addictive about the feel and taste of Grace that he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop until he was buried hilt deep in her silky body.

She responded so beautifully to him. He wanted to surround himself completely in her. She was damp and ready for him. He pushed his forefinger through her damp curls, touching her intimately. She clutched at his shoulders, holding him tightly as if to keep him from leaving her. As if he’d leave at this moment. He needed her response. It made him feel alive in a way he didn’t want to examine too closely.

He bent to her breast again, drawing her turgid nipple into his mouth. Sucking on her strongly, trying to draw some essence of Grace into his own body. She lifted herself up into his embrace, her legs falling open to give his hand more room to move between them.

He lifted his head from her breast, pushing her skirt to her waist and drawing her panty hose and underwear down her body and off. Her legs were firm and soft and her body much slimmer than the boxy clothing she wore revealed. She had lush hips that he sank his fingers into. Once he had bared her to his gaze, he pushed her legs apart. She shifted on the lounge chair, moving restlessly.

He parted her with his fingers, lowering his head, needing to know if she tasted as good here as her mouth and breasts had. He tongued her gently and parted her with his thumbs. She cried out, her hips rising to meet his mouth. Her hands moved restlessly from his head to his shoulders, her thighs clenching around him and then falling apart.

He sensed it wouldn’t take much to drive her over the edge. Licking delicately at her, he lifted her hips in his hands, his fingers sinking into her buttocks and cradling her so that he held her completely open to him.

“Adam …”

“Hmm?”

“I’m not going to last much longer.”

“Good,” he said. He draped her thighs over his shoulders and gave himself up to making Grace lose control, to seeing the flush of her skin deepen and listen to the breathy moans that were the sweetest music he’d heard in a long time.

He used his fingers to tease her until she was arching into his touch, and then he bit carefully on her most delicate flesh, sucking her into his mouth while he pushed one finger deep inside her.

Her body clenched around his fingers, heels digging into his back as she moved frantically.

His name was a long sigh on her lips as her climax rushed through her body. He kept his mouth and fingers on her until the internal clenching of her body stopped and then he moved up her body, keeping his hand between her legs as he found her breasts once again, suckling on them, hoping to find some satisfaction from just touching her.

She reached between their bodies, found him painfully engorged. She scraped her fingernail down the side of his zipper. He tightened even more.

Slowly she pulled the tab of his zipper, reaching into his pants and through the opening in his boxers to touch his hot flesh.

She circled him with her hand, stroking up and down and he lifted his head from her breast, brought his mouth down on hers, letting her taste herself.

She pulled her mouth from his. “Open your legs, Adam.”

He shifted them apart and felt her hand move lower, cupping him and rolling her fingers over him. He tightened.

“Grace, you need to stop.”

“Why?”

He explained why in blunt detail.

“Yes,” she said.

“Yes?”

“I want that,” she said.

He growled her name and bent to take her mouth again. Her hand worked up and down his length until he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back any longer.

He shifted his hips, wanting to move away from her, but she tightened her grip, driving him over the edge. She tangled her other hand in the hair at the back of his neck and drew his mouth down to hers.

He lowered his head to her breast, resting there. Feeling the emptiness that was always inside him ebb for the first time in a long time.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and one of her legs over his hips. And held him, and he let her. Not wanting to acknowledge that he had found a weakness in himself that only this woman had brought out.

Adam lifted her into his arms and carried her into the dark house. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not really wanting to talk. She was afraid that if she did this moment would drift away and she’d wake up. Realize this was a beautiful fantasy instead of reality.

She caught a glimpse of his bedroom—king-size bed dominating one side of the room, floor-to-ceiling windows with crisp sheers pulled across them—as he walked into the master bath and set her on her feet. He turned on the lighting over the garden tub and the largest shower she’d ever seen. It was a glass enclosed structure with two showerheads on opposite ends.

She was aware of her state of disarray. A twinge of embarrassment went through her. But then she glanced at Adam, who was equally disheveled.

He caught her glance and drew her closer to him, kissing her once again. She wanted more. She wanted to feel him hot and hard between her legs. She wanted him to lose control again only this time inside her so that she’d carry his mark on her and in her.

He drew back. “I’ll put some clean clothes on the counter.”

She watched him walk away and felt a little colder. She didn’t do sex well. She always associated it with some kind of deeper feelings, and maybe Adam didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He’d said at dinner that he’d never noticed her until today. She wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling small and oh, she didn’t like this feeling.

She removed her clothing quickly and turned on the shower, wanting—no, needing—to get clean and get out of here. What the hell had she been thinking? She had to work with Adam. He was staying in town to help her and she was going to have to sit across from him in meetings and remember the way his mouth had felt on her breasts. The way he had felt in her hand.

She stepped into the shower and lifted her head toward the water, hoping it would wash away the feelings that were overwhelming her. She braced one arm on the wall and tried to find her center.

But her center had always come from that core deep inside her that no one had ever realized was there. And tonight she’d let Adam see it. She knew it was going to be impossible to pretend this hadn’t happened.

The shower door opened and Adam stepped into the cubicle. She glanced up at him, praying that what she felt wasn’t on her face.

He didn’t say anything, just drew her into his arms, holding her naked body against his. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. His scent surrounded her and diminished the panic that had been growing steadily since he’d brought her into the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

His deep voice brushed over her, sounding like something straight out of her dreams. Tears burned the back of her eyes, because she had dreamed so many times of him holding her like this.

“I’m not … oh, heck, Adam. I’m not used to getting so intimate so fast.”

He rubbed his hand up and down her back. “Don’t think about that. Whatever’s between us is different.”

For her, she knew that. But she was positive that Adam was used to women falling all over him and she wanted to be distinctive, not part of the pack.

He tipped her head back. “What are you thinking?”

“That I’m an idiot.”

“Gracie …”

“No one’s ever called me a nickname before,” she said, the words slipping out without her permission.

She’d had two serious relationships since she’d left home and neither of them had lasted more than a year. She was afraid suddenly that Adam would be gone as quickly. Not because she needed a man to cling to, but because he was the first person to make her feel like who she was was enough. That she didn’t have to pretend to be someone else. And that really scared her, because she’d never been comfortable in her own skin.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked.

“I’m standing naked in your shower. I think we’ve gone past the point where personal questions are out of bounds.”

“Why do you wear baggy clothes?”

“I … They’re just more comfortable.”

“I thought we agreed there’d be no lies between us.”

“Did we agree to that?”

“Stop stalling.”

She reached for the loofah sponge and put some shower gel on it. “Turn around and I’ll wash your back.”

He arched one eyebrow at her but did as she asked. She scrubbed his back and noticed the scar that ran along the base of his spine. She touched it, wondering where it came from. “I wear the baggy clothes because my body distracts men. Makes them think of sin instead of business.”

“Grace.”

She stepped away from him, retreating to the far corner of the shower, sponging herself. Actually, now that she’d said the words out loud, she knew that she’d revealed too much. She felt more naked than she had on the lounge chair with his mouth between her legs.

“I don’t know who said that to you, but that is not what your body makes me think of.”

She tipped her head to the side, studying him. Trying to gauge the truth in his words. “What do I make you think of, Adam?”

He dropped his gaze from her for a second and then lifted his eyes to hers again. “You make me think of home, Gracie.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, and it seemed neither did Adam. They each washed their own hair and got out of the shower without saying another word. It scared her to realize that Adam knew some of her deepest secrets, but she knew she also knew one of his. The man who had everything his heart desired was searching for something the same way she was.

Six

The sound of raised voices filtered through her locked office door. Panicked at the thought of getting caught half naked in his arms, she started to push away from him.

But he held her close, wrapping his strong arms around her. “I’ve got you.”

Grace hugged him to her and closed her eyes, reminding herself that this was just loneliness and she hadn’t found the man she’d been secretly dreaming of.

Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace

Two weeks later, Grace had managed to keep Adam at arm’s length. Not an easy decision on her part, but she knew that dating him publicly was the absolute worst thing she could do as an administrator. Plus, she was scared.

She would admit it only to herself, but she’d let Adam get much closer in one night that she’d ever intended to. Seeing him every day at the school was a bittersweet thing. After hearing from two concerned parents about the amount of time she was spending with Adam on campus, she was almost afraid to be alone with him.

Afraid that if anyone thought there was something inappropriate going on between her and Adam, it might fuel Malcolm’s campaign to close the school. Sue-Ellen and the PTA had really run with the fundraising and money was starting to come in from the alumni group. But Grace knew any small mistake could set Malcolm off.

More disconcerting, her file folder with the story had shown back up on her desk. Where had it been? Had it been there the entire time?

She glanced at the pages and knew she should probably shred the thing before someone definitely saw it. The office shredder was in Bruce’s cubicle and she’d tried a couple of times to use it but someone always walked by.

There was a brief knock on her door before it opened and Adam filled the doorway.

She shoved the folder under the blotter on her desk. She flushed a little and hated that. She wanted to come off as more sophisticated than she was, but no matter how hard she tried she was always going to be a small-town girl.