Page 33

Author: Jaci Burton


He pulled it off and reached for her breasts, brushing his fingers over her nipples.


“That’s what I needed,” she said, her voice filled with the desire that never failed to capture her whenever Gray put his hands on her. The wonder of how she fell under his spell in an instant wasn’t lost on her. And when he put his arm around her back and bent to take one aching bud between his lips, he made her gasp. She watched as he sucked her nipples until her clit and pussy throbbed.


And then he turned her around and leaned her over the counter. “I want you this way,” he said, dragging her shorts and panties off.


She stepped out of them and he kicked her legs apart, unzipped his pants, and left her only long enough to grab a condom. He slipped his hand between her legs.


“You’re wet, Evelyn. Are you ready for me?”


“Yes.” She was ready for his cock, ready to come as he slid his hand back and forth over her aching sex. And when he found her clit and massaged her, she lifted up on her toes, moving her body in rhythm to his strokes.


She arched against him, so close to orgasm that she rested her head on her hands and concentrated on the delicious sensations his stroking fingers caused.


And when she came, she bucked back against him, crying out. He removed his fingers and slid his cock inside her, increasing the wild ride of her orgasm as his shaft filled her and he began to move inside her.


He tucked an arm around her waist, protecting her body from the countertop as he began to thrust inside her. She was still throbbing from the lightning-like pulses of her orgasm, still hadn’t come down from that high before he had her on another as he plunged repeatedly into her. She reached down to caress her clit, wanting to go there yet again, this time with Gray as he grabbed her hip and dug his fingers into her while he propelled himself ever deeper.


And when she came again, he went with her, licking the back of her neck, making her shiver with delight as the two of them connected in the most intimate of ways.


He lay over her back, both of them sweating and breathing heavily. He played with her breasts as they came down easily from the magnificent high he’d taken her on.


“Now I’m tired,” he said.


She smiled as he lifted her up and turned her around. He kissed her, a sweet, deep kiss. “How about we go to bed?” she asked.


“Is that your way of telling me you want to have sex again?”


She laughed. “You’re killing me, Gray.”


“No, I think you might be killing me, Evelyn.”


TWENTY-THREE


GRAY YANKED THE COVERS OFF EVELYN EARLY THE next morning.


“Wake up.”


She burrowed under the pillow, grabbing the air in search of the blanket. “Go away.


It’s too early.” Didn’t the man ever sleep?


“We have important things to do today.”


She rolled over and half opened her eyes. “What important things?”


“I thought we’d go spend some time in New York today.”


That woke her up in a hurry. “Really?”


“Yeah. Take a day off before we head out of town.”


She sat up and hung her legs over the side of the bed. “That sounds like fun.”


“Ever been?”


She shook her head. She’d always wanted to go.


“Then let’s get going.”


Gray had already showered, so she scrambled back to her hotel, took a quick shower, changed, and packed. Gray had already arranged a private plane to take them there since they’d only have the day. A car met them at the airport and drove them into Manhattan.


Evelyn unashamedly sat at the window like a geeked-out tourist as they entered the city, gawking at the amazing skyline, picking out the Chrysler Building and Empire State building, her heart climbing into her throat as she spotted the Statue of Liberty.


She’d always planned to take a week’s vacation in New York, and had an agenda of places she wanted to see. There’d just never been time.


“I know. We aren’t going to be able to do it all. But I can give you an overview,” he said as the car let them out in Times Square.


“What about our bags?” she asked as the car drove away.


“The driver will take care of them.”


Trusting Gray, she shrugged, and with no small amount of glee, she did a complete turnaround, gaping at the immense blinking signs, the sheer amount of humanity crowding the sidewalks and clamoring for space amidst the cluster of traffic and honking horns. Tourists walked Times Square, no doubt as shell-shocked as she was.


She turned to Gray. “I’ve seen this before in movies, but it’s nothing like being here.”


He grinned and took her hand. “Come on.”


They walked along the street and Evelyn took in every sight and smell, the street vendors hawking everything from pretzels and hot dogs to clothing and jewelry. The police were out in force, patrolling on foot and on horseback. It seemed like there was a cop every three feet. In a city with millions of people crowding and shoving into her, she’d never felt safer, surprisingly.


Gray stopped and grabbed them a bus ticket for the tours.


“A bus tour, really?” she asked, surprised he’d want to do something like that. It was totally something she would have done, likely the first thing because she’d be so eager to see everything all at once.


“You’ll enjoy this. I’ve done it before.”


She halted and stared at him. “You have. You, the rich guy, took a tourist bus.”


“Best way to see Manhattan, in my opinion. You can hop on and off at any stop.


We’ll take both of them so you can see everything.”


“I’m stunned.”


He laughed. “Come on. Let’s go get in line.”


He bought them water and they waited for the big red double-decker buses. When it was their turn, they climbed aboard the top of the bus. She looped her arm around Gray’s and leaned against him.


“I’m ridiculously excited about this,” she said as the bus took off.


Gray was quiet and she was anything but, commenting on everything she saw on the tours, from Union Square to Chinatown to the Flatiron Building. The architecture of buildings they passed particularly fascinated her, and she grabbed her phone and snapped pictures of building fronts that caught her eye, especially some of the old churches.


She scanned the map. “Oh, the Met is coming up.” She looked at Gray. “Do you mind?”


“We can go anywhere you want.”


They hopped out at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and went in. Lord, but the place was huge. They grabbed a map and maneuvered their way through several of the exhibits.


“You need an entire day—possibly two or three—just to see everything. There are more than two million works in here,” she said, reading the information sheet. It was overwhelming.


“Yes,” Gray said. “But it’s worth it.”


“You’ve been through here.”


He nodded. “More than once.”


“What’s your favorite thing?”


“Greek and Roman Art.” He led her to the section, showed her some of his favorite pieces.


“This is one I could look at for hours,” he said, showing her a marble sarcophagus.


The intricacies were awe-inspiring. She took his hand and laid her head on his shoulder, examining it with him, absorbing the detail and appreciating the work that had gone into it. They wandered the section and looked at each piece. She found herself watching Gray as he admired the sculptures, noted the way he cocked his head to the side, how long he would study the pieces.


Who would know this about him if he hadn’t taken the time to share his love of art?


He was such a complex man and she loved that about him.


When they left the exhibit, he turned to her. “Your turn. Show me what you love.”


She gazed up at him and smiled. “Okay.”


She looked at the map and led the way, her pulse thrumming at the thought of seeing the paintings.


When they got to the section it took some twists and turns. The rooms were like a maze. She was glad to have Gray with her, because she might have gotten lost without his help. But as soon as she found the Impressionist wing, she went to the paintings and stopped in front of the first Renoir she saw.


Gray came up and put his arm around her. “They’re beautiful.”


“It’s hard to believe I’m actually seeing them up close like this.” She wanted to reach out and touch them. Of course she knew she couldn’t, but they were so beautiful. She moved along and looked at each one in the gallery, though her favorites were the Renoirs and Monets. She understood now why there were cushioned seating areas in the center of each gallery, why some people sat and just stared for hours.


Art was such an amazing thing. She couldn’t draw at all, but she had such an appreciation for the talent of those who could paint beautiful works that spoke to her heart in this way.


She laced her fingers with Gray’s as they left the gallery. “I think someday I’ll come back to New York and spend every day for a week coming in here to just sit and reflect.”


“It’s peaceful. Gives you a chance to clear your head.”


They left the Met and Gray pulled her half a block down the street. There was a vendor cart and he ordered them two hot dogs and a drink.


“You haven’t truly experienced New York until you’ve had a hot dog from a vendor cart.”


She laughed. “Then by all means, we have to have one.”


They walked a little farther down the street and stopped at one of the benches under the shade trees, eating while people buzzed by on their way to wherever they were going. The hot dog was good and it was blistering hot outside, so the shade helped.


She enjoyed people watching, so Gray suggested they walk to the next tour bus stop, and since they would be walking along Central Park, she didn’t mind the walk at all.


They grabbed the bus and made a few more stops. Gray took her to lunch at an amazing bistro where she had the most perfect Greek salad with stuffed grape leaves, kalamata olives, and feta cheese, topped with dressing so delicious she wanted to scoop it up with a spoon. It was an open-air place so while she ate she people watched, and with so many people going by, it was such a pleasurable experience. She and Gray tried to imagine where they were all going, what kind of jobs they had. She got distracted a little by checking out the fantastic shoes the women wore.


Women knew how to dress in this city. She felt extremely underdressed in her capris and canvas shoes, but at least she was comfortable.


They grabbed the bus and ended up back where they started. She loved seeing everything, but it was an exhausting day. Gray hailed a cab. It was a harrowing ride, kind of like a roller coaster in an amusement park with lots of twists, turns, and abrupt stops. But she felt like she’d been truly indoctrinated into New York culture.


And she was a little nauseated, too, likely because she was still rubbernecking and playing tourist, craning her neck up to see the tall buildings and people watching as the taxicab performed death-defying acts by barely missing pedestrians and other cars.


There was a lot of horn honking going on, and the taxi driver seemed put out by the other cars and the pedestrians getting in his way.


It was insane, really.


“That was interesting,” she said after they climbed out and the cab pulled away, shoving itself into the flow of stop-and-go traffic.


Gray laughed. “Yeah. Welcome to New York.”


It took her a few seconds to register that they had stopped at The Plaza.


“I am so not dressed to have drinks here,” she said.


“We’re not having drinks here.” They went to the registration desk, where he shocked her by checking them in. The registration clerk told Gray that their suite was ready and their bags had already been taken up to their room.


The hotel was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Very Old World, mixed with every modern convenience. And when she walked into the suite, she could have died from the beauty. It was a town house suite—two floors of utter decadence, with a dining room, a living room, an upstairs bedroom, and a marble-floored bathroom she might never want to leave.