The Unidentified Redhead (Redhead #1)(55)
Author: Alice Clayton

She gave us instructions on what to take off and what to leave on, if we wished, and then left us to disrobe. The suite was facing the ocean and we could see and hear the waves. I breathed in the salty air as Jack began to undress.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours, Hamilton,” I joked, taking my camisole and pulling it over my head. I was wearing a new bra—one that he had not seen yet. White, lace, lots of cle**age.

Sweet and slutty.

His eyes darkened, as always, when he saw me almost naked, and I delighted in the little striptease that I now found myself performing. I slowly peeled my shorts off, turning to toss them on the chair to show off my white, lacy boy-shorts, similar to the ones he shredded the night before. He was in the process of taking off his shirt, but he had stopped dead in his tracks when he saw my hands sneak around back and unclasp my bra.

“Now, now, we’re getting massages … no funny stuff,” I scolded, slipping the bra down and tossing it at him. It hit him in the head and fell down over his face, looking like Weird Science. “But, the question is, do I leave these on or go ahead and take them off? Will I want her to massage me everywhere?” I let my voice trail off, slipping my thumbs under the bands on either side, pulling them almost off, but not quite. I was still covered while I debated. “Hmmm, I just don’t know. What do you think, Jack?” I asked, pulling them a little lower, spinning to give him just a peek.

He quickly turned around, stripped his own clothes off down to his naughty bits and dove under the blanket draped on his massage table. He pressed his face down into the pillow, and I could hear him groaning. I laughed, finished getting undressed and slipped under the blanket on my table. We giggled for a few minutes, waiting for the massage therapists to come in, holding hands across the space between us.

For the next ninety minutes we relaxed, enjoying this treatment fully. Once we’d finished up, we dressed and made our way back to the cottage. I didn’t know what our plans were for the night. I had given up all control and was happy to let Jack lead.

I felt nervous as we approached the cottage. Would we have the sex now?

Don’t you want to have the sex?

Yes, yes, of course. But would I have time to change into my sweetly slutty new lingerie?

Jack made up my mind for me when we got inside. “So, I’m going to leave you for a bit to get cleaned up, and then I’ll be back. I made reservations for us for dinner tonight. How does that sound?”

“Here at the hotel, I hope,” I murmured, pulling him to me for a hug.

“Yes, here at the hotel. I figured it was safer that way, in case you get a little randy at dinner. We have a place close by,” he teased, his breath warm in my hair as he held me tight. I would miss this, the hugging, the banter, the back and forth that was Jack and Grace.

I pulled back a little to look him in the eyes. “Thank you,” I said.

“For what?” he asked, looking puzzled.

“For this weekend. It’s perfect,” I answered, kissing him softly on the mouth.

He kissed me back, slowly, lazily, fueling the fire that was always burning between us.

“You get a shower. I’ll be back for you in a little bit,” he whispered, backing away from me. I sighed as I watched him leave, and then I began to prepare. I would be having hot hotel sex with Jack Hamilton before this night was through.

Thank God …

Within the time it took me to get ready and Jack to come back from whatever it was he was doing, I had managed to work myself into quite a frenzy. I was excited, nervous, frantic, frazzled, twitterpated …

Anything else?

Horny, crazy horny.

Damn straight.

I was wearing my favorite little black dress, cut low enough in the bodice to show my cle**age, enhanced by sparkle. Jack now refused to let me wear something low cut without a dusting of shimmer. I had twisted my hair up high on my head, letting a few pieces fall here and there in a carefully constructed

‘do that said, “It’s supposed to look like I just threw it up here, but it really took me an hour.”

As I carefully dabbed perfume in all the right places, it struck me that I hadn’t been this nervous when I lost my virginity. Tommy Jenson, eleventh grade. His parents’ basement on a blanket that smelled like camp. Young MC

on the radio. It was quick and painful.

Ugh.

I was a Hamilton virgin, and I couldn’t wait to be deflowered.

Jack came to the bathroom door and knocked. He’d graciously given me this bathroom, using the other bathroom in the suite to get ready.

“Grace, you decent?”

“Pfft, like that has ever stopped you before,” I teased, smoothing my dress one last time as I appraised myself in the mirror.

Hair? Nice. Makeup? Flawless. Skin? Glowing. Knockers? Up. Confidence?

High.

I repeat, confidence is high.

I opened the door and saw him. Once again, he did not disappoint in a gray button down, black leather jacket, black pants and my favorite Doc Martens.

And he was biting down on his lower lip … in an attempt to drive me crazy?

Hell, yes. I sighed and he sighed back at me, our eyes traveling over each other.

“Grace, did I tell you how sexy you are today?”

“Nope, tell me.”

“You are so sexy. It’s all I can do not to ravage you right here. Because I want you, Nuts Girl. I want you in the most desperate way,” he whispered in my ear as he pulled me to him.

“It does feel that way doesn’t it?” I shivered as he kissed my neck.

“Let’s go eat the fastest dinner possible.”

“We will set a new record, George. Mark my words,” I stated firmly, pulling him toward the door.

Once we were out of the cottage, I started toward the restaurant we’d had lunch in earlier that day, but Jack pulled me toward the waterfront.

“I arranged something a little more private for us. I hope you don’t mind.” He grinned as he wrapped his hands around mine.

We walked across the gardens, the night perfumed thickly with jasmine and rose. We came upon a little pergola that had been set with one table, two chairs and a dozen candles that shone through the darkness. I could hear soft music playing, and I was delighted to see that while there was one waiter, there was no one else around. It was like our own little hideaway …

Who said romance was dead? I smiled at him, letting him lead me the rest of the way, and it was then I realized that I would follow this man anywhere.

Once seated, he opened a bottle of champagne and poured for both of us. He raised his glass and said, with a sexy grin, “Let the seduction of Miss Grace begin.”