The Mistresses: Make-Believe Mistress. Katherine Garbera
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was more confidence in the way she moved. As if she knew he was going to follow her. And he was. He was going to follow her and give her a night straight out of her dreams.
Grace was sure and competent and very in charge in real life, but in her fantasy she wanted a man to dominate her. To take control of her passion. He followed her up her walk, pressing his remote to lock the doors on his car and set the alarm.
He followed her as if she’d promised him the answers to questions he’d always posed. And he knew she didn’t have them. Knew that, like women or projects in the past, he wouldn’t really find what he’d been chasing. He’d thought he’d found the answers before only to be disappointed.
But tonight none of that mattered. All that he cared about was that she’d invited him in. She’d made a move in real life, not just in her written fantasies, and that was good enough for him.
She had something he wanted and because he was a guy it was partially tied up in lust for her curvy body. But he knew there was more to it than lust.
She led him into her house and got them both a glass of wine, a California merlot that was full-bodied and fruity. She sat on one edge of her couch, leaving plenty of space between the two of them.
“I thought we were beyond this,” he said, quietly. She blew hot and cold with him, one minute flirty and sexy as hell, the next retreating behind her walls. Watching him with those enigmatic eyes of hers that made him realize he might never know any of her secrets.
“Beyond what?”
“This space between us,” he said.
She took a sip of her wine. “Whenever I think about you here with me, I can’t help thinking—what is this man doing with me?”
“I’m here because you make the world come alive for me.”
“That sounds hokey.”
“I know. But I can’t think of any other way to describe it.”
“Your life is pretty exciting without me in it.”
“No, Grace, it isn’t. My life is full of events and people, but it’s all routine. I learned a long time ago that routine is important to survival.”
“Routine is getting up at six every morning, eating cereal and driving to work. Routine is not spending your day surrounded by rock stars and celebrities.”
“I guess it just depends on your perspective,” he said quietly. Thinking about how one little detail could change a life. The lies his parents had told had changed his life. The story of Grace’s he’d read had changed their lives. And though he knew he needed to say something, to somehow reveal the secret he was keeping, he still wasn’t able to find the right words.
Eight
“Where were we?” he asked, his voice a sexy whisper in her ear.
He nudged her center and she shifted against him, trying to get even closer. It was impossible with the layers of cloth between them. Her skirt was hiked up, but not enough.
“I think we were here,” she said, looking down at her bare breasts.
“Show me where I left off,” he said.
She drew his head down to her lips. He kissed his way down her neck and bit lightly at her nape. She shuddered, clutching at his shoulders, pressing her body harder against him. He bent his head and his tongue stroked her nipple.
Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace
Adam looked like he belonged in her house as he sat next to her on the couch. A part of her was afraid she was building too much around him and their relationship the same way she did with those photos of her with other people’s families on the mantel. Creating the illusion that there was more to her life than there really was.
He spread his arms along the back of the sofa, his body open and relaxed. She thought about the story she’d written. The story that, for her, was bold and erotic. A fictional account that she used to fill the empty part of her life. The part that she’d always really been afraid to admit that she wanted.
But she and Adam had already made love once. She’d already had an orgasm in his arms and watched him have one next to her. They’d been intimate in a way—
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
She shrugged. What could she say to him that wouldn’t make her sound … like herself? Like the scared and insecure woman she was deep inside?
“Nothing,” she said, wanting to believe that it was strategy and not fear of rejection that held her still on her side of the couch.
“If it doesn’t feel right don’t do it,” he said, a wry grin on his face. But the expression seemed forced.
She guessed he was experiencing something similar to what she felt. She skimmed her gaze down his body, stopping when she noticed his erection. She hadn’t even touched him, how could he be aroused by her?
“I guess you can tell how much I like you,” he said, gesturing to his body.
“Why?”
He turned to her then, putting one hand on her face, his fingers gentle as he traced the line of her cheekbones. But when he started to speak she put her fingers over his lips. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say. Whatever expectations he had of her, she didn’t want to know them. Didn’t want her fears of living up to what he wanted to stop her.
“Forget I asked. I like you, too.”
“Show me,” he said.
Grace pushed all her doubts from her mind about why Adam was here. He was here, and that was enough for her. She wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to be with him. Not like the last time at his house in the shower, when she’d wanted to reach for him again but had stopped herself. Her fantasies, which had fed her secret life, paled in comparison to the real thing.
How could the imagined feel of his hand on the back of her neck match the actual warmth and weight of the real thing?
He watched her steadily, awareness of him growing in her until she had to lean forward and capture his lips with hers. His mouth was firm and hard. He didn’t open his lips, just waited to see how far she’d take it. She brushed her mouth back and forth over his.
She licked at his lips before using her teeth to draw his lower lip into her mouth, scraping her teeth over the plump flesh. She rested her hands on his shoulders for balance as she leaned over him. The angle forced his head back so that she was in complete control.
He moaned and pulled her down on his lap, shifting the balance of power in that one move. He took control, his hands sliding up to hold her head still as he plundered the depths of her mouth.
She shifted her legs so that she straddled his hips. She lifted her head and stared down at him. His eyes were narrowed and intense as he looked up at her.
“Take off your T-shirt.”
“Only if you take off your shirt.”
He nodded. She sank back on his thighs, reaching for the waistband of her shirt. She pulled it up over her head and then held it awkwardly in front of her for a minute. She knew what her body looked like with just jeans on. Her white belly was visible. Some of her skin swelled over the waistband.
He unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. He was lean and ripped with rock-hard, defined muscles that a businessman shouldn’t have. “You work out.”
“Yeah, I get restless and no matter where I am there’s always a gym.”
“There are also bars and women.”
“That’s not who I really am, Gracie. Why are you holding on to that shirt?”
She shrugged. No way