"Why do you care so much?" he asked, scooting the tray to the foot of the bed and moving closer to me.
My body reacted to his close proximity. "What makes you think I care?" I said breathlessly as he inched closer.
"I think you care a lot," he said, dropping his eyes to my mouth.
I swallowed hard as his mouth hovered close to mine. "Tell me you haven't been thinking about this," he said, stroking a thumb over my bottom lip.
"Have you?" I whispered.
"Jams, I've been thinking about this longer than I can remember," he said, crushing his lips to mine. His words rang through my head, but there was no way I could make sense of them when his lips felt so good. I responded with a small moan when his tongue trailed across the same spot where his thumb had been. My pleasure filled acceptance affected him and he dragged me into his arms, deepening the kiss. A shiver rippled down my body as our tongues found each other. I gripped the hem of his shirt, wanting him closer. Hearing my unspoken plea, he settled the upper half of his body on top of mine. I gasped with pleasure, running my fingers up under his shirt. I could feel the firmness of his muscles and smoothness of his skin. It was almost my undoing when I felt him tugging at my shirt moments before his hand glided over the sensitive skin of my ribcage. My blood roared through me. His hand moved farther up to my breasts and I bowed my body, whimpering against his lips. I wanted his touch everywhere on my body.
"Jams, you're seriously killing me," he said raggedly against my lips. He pulled back slightly.
"Is that good or bad?" I asked, running my hands up his torso. My fingers trailed to the small patch of hair that disappeared down his jeans. Ever since I'd seen him in nothing but his jockey shorts the other night, I've fantasized about that small trail of hair.
"So good it almost hurts," he said, leaning in for another kiss. Before his lips could reach their destination, a beeping noise from downstairs followed by the sound of voices in the hallway interrupted us. "Really?" he asked incredulously, climbing off the bed. I couldn't help giggling. Of course something was going on. With our luck lately, I could have almost set my watch by it.
Chapter 10
Grant helped me put my boot on my one good foot and slid his feet into his own before he reached for me. His eyes were amused as he scooped me up into his arms yet again. "Nice timing," he joked. "I better think about baseball and hope it works quickly."
"What?" I asked, not getting what he meant.
"You know—we were just doing some stuff that may have caused something," he said, nodding his head downward.
I burst out laughing after finally realizing his problem. "So, I shouldn't tell you how hot you were making me?" I said, adding fuel to the fire.
"Please no," he pleaded as I reached out to open the door.
In the last twenty-four hours, I had been held by him a number of times, and yet this time it felt different as he cradled me tenderly against his chest. We followed another couple down the stairs and outside. Smoke was drifting from the back of the house, which alarmed us both.
"Where's Maggie?" I asked, scanning the small crowd outside.
"I don't know," Grant said, looking worriedly back inside.
"Put me down, I can hang on to the post," I said, hearing sirens in the background.
"Don't move," he said, setting me down.
"I promise not to run any marathons. Now get in there."
A woman I didn't know came over to stand beside me. "Are you okay?" she asked as I hobbled on one foot while I held the banister.
"Yeah, it's just a bad sprain. Do you know what happened?" I asked.
"I think it's another one of Maggie's mishaps in the kitchen," she laughed.
"This has happened before?" I asked, feeling somewhat relieved. >"Bathroom?" he asked huskily, returning his stare to my eyes.
"Huh?" I answered. His words shook me back to reality and my pressing needs. Crap, my teeth. He almost kissed me and I'm sure my breath was rank enough to turn Medusa to stone. I clamped my hand over my mouth.
"Is that some kind of hint?" he asked in a strangled voice
"I need to brush my teeth," I mumbled around my fingers.
"Are you still high on those pills?" he asked, waiting like I was going to spout out more gibberish like I did last night.
I groaned at his words. "No, I just hate morning breath," I said, flushing. I vainly hoped the dim light from the fire would keep him from seeing my embarrassment. "Please stop looking at me like I just climbed out from under some gross rock," I begged, hoping he would just let the whole pill thing go. Couldn't it be like going to Vegas? What happens when Jamie takes pills stays at blah blah blah.