The Unidentified Redhead (Redhead #1)(66)
Author: Alice Clayton

I moaned, feeling him twitch again as soon as he heard me.

I could feel the sprays of water hitting my body everywhere and the steam was thick and hot, making my head swim.

I needed to feel his skin, and I pressed myself up against him, our wet bodies sliding across each other as he pushed me up against the wall. The coolness of the tile, the nozzles spraying in so many directions and the sight of Jack, standing naked under the rain shower, the water running down his face and body made my knees go weak.

“Fuck me, please. Fuck me,” I begged, pulling him still closer. He quickly picked me up, wrapped my legs around him and was inside my warmth instantly.

His body held my body in place, and he pounded into me, everything slippery, hot, and wet.

His face was inches from mine as I scratched at his back, getting more and more aggressive with him. The speed with which he slammed into me and the grunts he made each time made me crazy. I crashed my body against his as he impaled me.

I could feel every inch, every thrust, every pump, and it made me out of my mind with lust. My insides were on fire, loving how hard he was pressing into me, using his strength to ravage my body.

“Grace … Fuck, Grace!” he groaned.

“Yes, yes, f**k Grace!” I screamed, feeling his body sliding against mine.

I could feel my body’s tension building, increasing, threatening to split me in two with its ferocity. I pulled at his hair, making him slap at the tiles behind me.

We came together, with me screaming his name and him biting at my neck as he burst into me. We stayed like that for a moment, panting heavily, the water still beating down. He finally released me, holding me close and kissing me on the cheek. The way he could be dirty and biting me one minute and sweet and loving the next is why he was so incredible.

Then he whispered, “While you’re in New York, I’m having them install a shower like this in your new house. Don’t even try to argue with me,” he warned, slapping my ass as he turned to rinse off one last time.

He would get no arguments from me.

That night we exhausted ourselves, staking our claim all over the cottage, and finally, ending up in the one room that was oddly becoming a tradition.

“Why the hell do we always end up naked in a closet?” he asked sleepily, his hands possessively surrounding my br**sts as we came down from another round of mind-blowing sexy times.

“I don’t know. We’re kinky, I guess,” I croaked, my throat raw from a night of blissful screaming. He really had shown great foresight in choosing accom-modations where we were separate from the other guests. I would certainly not want to be in a room next to my loud mouth. Jack had not held back at all, either. He was quite mouthy … in more ways than one.

I stood up shakily, reaching down for him and pulling him up. We dodged the hangers and the ironing board and made our way back to the bed. I slipped into his discarded shirt, and he found his boxers hanging from the TV. I went to my side, and he to his, and as we met in the middle, I said, “George, it is now sleepy times, not sexy times. I need sleep, are we clear?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in a severe way.

“Hey, you’ll get no arguments from me. You’ve worn me out, woman. I am officially all used up,” he answered, pulling the duvet up over us as I clicked on the TV.

“Hey, you just said sleepy times. Turn that off, Grace.” He frowned, trying to grab it away from me.

“Wait, wait … ah ha!” I yelled triumphantly, finding Lifetime and my favorite show.

The theme song from the Golden Girls streamed into the room.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, but by the end of the song he was humming along with me, and by the end of the first scene, he was laughing along with me.

And by the end of the episode, we were both fast asleep, all tucked in and peaceful.

The next morning, we woke up early, started the day with a bang (ahem) and were on the road back to L.A. by ten-thirty. I wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with him all day, but Tuesday was getting so close, and I still had so much to do.

We drove in relative silence and listened to songs on our iPods. We held hands the whole time and even when we stopped for gas, we were reluctant to separate. It was as if we were quietly beginning to acknowledge how little time we had left with each other, and it was getting harder to ignore.

He kept his hand on my leg the rest of the drive back in L.A., and when we finally pulled into Holly’s driveway, it was already mid afternoon. He needed to head back to his place for a while, and as I kissed him goodbye, I almost couldn’t let him go.

He kissed me longingly and swept my hair up into a loose ponytail, holding it on the back of my neck.

“Crazy, I’ll be back before you know it. You won’t even have unpacked yet, I bet,” he sighed, looking at my sad face.

“I know, I know … I’m being silly. You want to stay in for dinner tonight?” I asked. I really didn’t want to leave the house for anything. I wanted him all to myself.

“That sounds great. You can make me dinner.” He smiled, tickling my ribs.

“We can cook together. You get to help me.” I laughed, squirming out of his grasp.

“That’s a deal. I’ll be back as soon as I can, love,” he replied, kissing me once more. Then he drove away.

I walked back into the house, shocked at how empty I felt without him there. This was not the way it was supposed to happen. I was supposed to have had a little fling with a hot Hollywood piece of ass, move to New York, and that was the end of it.

Now, I was head over heels in love with this wonderful guy, leaving in less than two days, and we hadn’t even discussed what we were going to do about it.

What a f**king mess.

I went into the house and found Holly in the kitchen. She was sitting at the counter with a plate of crackers and a can of spray cheese.

She didn’t even bother trying to hide the fact that she was really shooting the cheese straight into her mouth and leaving the crackers behind.

“So, how was the dick?” she asked immediately, not even letting me set my bag down.

“The dick? It was nice.” I sighed, and leaned back against the fridge.

“How nice?” she inquired, pushing the cheese through her teeth and showing it to me.

“So nice, I’m amazed I’m able to walk, frankly,” I admitted, sliding down the fridge and sitting on the floor. She looked at me carefully, and then put the top back on the can, tossing it to me.

“What’s wrong, Grace?” she asked, starting in on the crackers.