Chapter 18

GRACE

I felt like a live wire when I returned to my room that night. After some embarrassed server had caught Brady and me, Brady had immediately returned inside.

I’d had to stand out there by myself, trying to catch my breath.

Now I was back in my room, and I hadn’t calmed down. Not by a mile.

Brady Carmichael had kissed me. Finally! He’d finally kissed me.

I knew it was strange that I felt more triumphant about this than when he’d spanked me. But he’d kissed me like he not only wanted me, but needed me. That he couldn’t fight his feelings for me anymore.

You’re reading way too much into this, I warned myself.

But I didn’t care. I did a giddy little spin around my room. When I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I almost didn’t recognize the woman looking at me.

This wasn’t shy, virginal Grace Dallas. The woman looking back at me knew how to drive men crazy. She knew how alluring her own sexuality was.

I smiled. Then I laughed, feeling like I was on top of the world. But even as I danced in my tall stilettos, reality beckoned.

My feet were killing me, and I’d barely eaten anything all evening. I’d been too afraid of getting something on the couture gown that I’d been allowed to borrow from a famous designer.

I took off my dress, making sure to hang it up, and sighed with relief when I took off my shoes. I flexed my toes.

I knew I looked hot in heels, but damn, why did they have to hurt so much?

I started running a bath. I needed to relax. I knew I wouldn’t sleep a wink if I didn’t make myself chill out.

I found some bubble bath and soon sank into the hot water. I made a happy noise of contentment.

I let my thoughts wander, but despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stop thinking about Brady. The way he’d pulled me into his arms. How strong he’d felt. How he’d kissed me until my brain had turned to mush.

When we’d been interrupted, I’d almost wanted Brady to keep on kissing me no matter who was watching us. But Brady had sworn under his breath and stalked away like he’d been doused in ice water.

Hadn’t Brady told me he wouldn’t keep doing the hot-and-cold act with me? I snorted. So much for that promise.

As I soaked in the tub, my thoughts returned to the night at the club when Brady had spanked me. I’d been nervous when he’d taken me into that room. I’d almost been tempted to call his bluff and go home.

But when he’d bent over my knee, pulling my dress up to my hips, exposing me to his gaze and his touch ... it’d felt like I’d fallen into a whirlpool of sensation.

Then he’d begun spanking me. It’d hurt, but there’d been something so pleasurable about the experience, too. Every smack had ratcheted up my desire for him.

The worst part had been that he hadn’t touched my pussy. I’d been vibrating with need when he’d stopped. I’d half expected to come right then and there since I’d been so turned on.

I reached through the water to stroke a finger through my folds. I was wet just at remembering how Brady had spanked me. I sighed.

I imagined that next time, he’d paddle me. He’d start slowly, teasing me with light smacks, scolding me when I moved too much.

As I imagined this scenario, I circled my clit, feeling it harden under my fingers. I thrust a finger inside my tight sheath. I added a second because I knew Brady’s fingers were thicker than mine.

What would it feel like to have him finger me like this? Would his eyes grow dark as he felt how wet I was?

I threw my head back as I finger-fucked myself. I rubbed my clit with my other hand. All the while, I could feel Brady’s hand connecting against my ass.

Over and over again, spanking me, telling me how I was a bad girl who’d better stop testing his patience.

Do you want me to fuck you for real? he’d growl. He’d delve between the seam of my legs to find my wet pussy. How badly do you want me to fuck you, baby?

I groaned aloud as I increased the speed of my own hands. I arched upward, not caring that I was probably getting water all over the bathroom floor. I imagined that it was Brady touching me as I rubbed my clit, that it was Brady hooking his fingers inside my pussy to hit my G-spot, that it was Brady telling me to come right then and there—

And then I heard a knock on my door. I paused, uncertain. Then another more forceful knock.

“Grace, it’s Brady.”

I nearly launched myself out of the tub like a crazy woman. I grabbed a robe and put it on as fast as I could.

“Coming!” I yelled. I realized the double entendre and had to stifle a hysterical laugh.

I threw open the door so fast that I surprised Brady.

“Grace?” He looked me over. “Sorry, were you in the shower?”

“Bath.”

As if sensing something was off, Brady narrowed his eyes.

“You were masturbating again,” he growled.

I blushed. I realized that one of my hands was near the doorframe, which wasn’t far from his nose, which meant—

I pulled my hand back. “Did you need something?” I asked primly.

Brady just pushed past me into my room. He started pacing like a caged lion.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he burst out. He shot me a look of desperation. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”

“I’m confused.”

“This.” He gestured vaguely. “Jerking off. All of it.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Um, you interrupted me . What I do in my own hotel room is my business.”

Brady wasn’t even listening to me. He was just pacing and raking his hands through his hair. He really did seem like he was at the end of his rope.

“Besides, you got me all hot and bothered by kissing me,” I pointed out.

“That’s the thing. We can’t keep doing this.”

Not this again. “Brady, I already know what you’re going to say. ‘I’m not right for you, this can’t happen, it’s wrong, I’m actually a prince in disguise and I’m betrothed to another woman.’ Blah, blah, blah.”

That little speech made Brady stop pacing, at least. His lips twitched. “A prince in disguise? What Hallmark movie is this?”

“An annoying one.” I sat on the edge of my bed with a huff.

Brady eventually sat next to me. “No, I wasn’t going to say all of that. Not this time. After our kiss downstairs, I had a good, long think in my room.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And did you come to some new conclusion?”

“You’re sassy tonight.” He flicked my arm. “But yeah, I did. I want us to date.”

“What?”

“I want to take you out on real dates. No more of this sneaking around and shit. You deserve better than that.” He looked away. “And I don’t think the club is the best place to get to know each other either.”

My shoulders fell. “But I really enjoyed our ... encounter there.”

“I know you did. I did, too. But the club isn’t reality. It’s manufactured. It’s all a fantasy.” His gaze was serious as he looked at me. “I want to experience more than that with you. I want to experience reality with you.”

I didn’t know what to say. I reached out to touch him, but he pulled away from me.

He let out a bitter laugh. “I’m about to pounce on you, so maybe don’t touch me.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“I’m trying to be chivalrous here. We haven’t even gone on a date yet.”

He rose from the bed. “Good night, Grace,” he said before shutting the door behind him.

I was mystified. I was elated. I was annoyed.

But right at that moment, I was still horny as hell. Brady had interrupted me before I’d come, damn him. I lay down and opened my robe.

I wondered if Brady was going to jerk off in his room. I could just imagine him pulling his cock out, already half hard. It wouldn’t take long for him to be fully erect.

How big was he? I had a feeling that he’d be huge. Thick and veiny and pulsing with desire. In my vision of him stroking himself, there was a bead of precum at the tip that slowly dripped down the side.

Would he be thinking about me? I hoped so. I rubbed my clit as I thought about him increasing the speed of his strokes. His fist would tighten, a grimace on his face, his toes curling as he felt his own orgasm building inside him.

I thought of him shouting as he came, semen spurting from the tip. I imagined it hitting my tongue the exact moment my own orgasm slammed into me. I came with a scream I bit back just in time, all too aware that the walls in this place were probably thin. The waves hit me, seemingly endless, my body completely out of my own control.

I felt like my bones had melted. I tossed the robe aside and climbed under the covers. Yawning, I fell asleep within moments, my dreams filled with Brady.

The following Saturday after we’d all flown back to LA, I went to dinner with my mom. When she’d suggested inviting Dad as well, I’d told her that I needed some motherly advice.

“You mean you don’t want your dad flipping his lid,” Mom had said.

We’d gotten Mexican at one of our favorite places and had gone to a nearby beach to walk around. It was a warm evening, and plenty of people were out and about on the beach.

“So what’s up?” Mom asked me as we sat down on a bench.

I wiped my suddenly sweating palms on my jeans. “Um, it’s about Brady.”

“I figured.”

“He wants us to date.”

That made Mom’s eyebrows go up. “Reallllly?” she drawled. “Now, I hadn’t expected that.”

“He says he wants to see if we could be good for each other. But I’m not so sure. Would Dad freak out if we started dating?”

Mom was silent for a moment, then she sighed. “I hate to say it, honey, but I don’t think your father would approve of you dating Brady. I mean, you know his reputation. Since when has he even been in a serious relationship? Did he say he’d be monogamous?”

“I think so.” But now I wondered whether I should’ve asked Brady to be crystal clear.

“Brady isn’t a bad guy, but he’s not the right guy for you. You two are from completely different worlds. Brady grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, if you catch my drift.”

Now, I was offended on Brady’s behalf. “I never thought you’d be judgmental like that.”

“I don’t judge Brady for his past, but he has a lot of baggage, too. I would bet you a million dollars one of the reasons he sleeps around is because of something lacking inside him. Do you want to just be another notch on his bedpost?”

I felt a little sick to my stomach. When I’d decided to ask Mom her opinion on Brady and me dating, I had the stupid hope that she’d tell me to go for it.

Mom took my hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you want to hear. I just want to protect you. You need a stable man. And you know these athletes. They burn themselves out completely. They burn bright for a few years, and then ...” Mom shrugged.

“Brady might want to change.” My voice sounded small.

“Maybe he will.” I could hear Mom’s skepticism in her voice. “But there’s also the issue of your dad. He’ll never be okay with you dating a hockey player. He knows those guys too well.”

Mom’s expression was serious now. “And I’d worry that you dating Brady might hurt his career. He might be accused of nepotism, or that he’s dating his coach’s daughter for special favors.”

“What? That’s crazy! Everybody knows Brady isn’t like that.”

“My dear, when it comes to money and fame, people will do a lot of things. Even people like Brady.”

I hated that I was listening to this. I hated that I felt a bit of doubt bloom inside me.

What if Brady was allowing this because he’d realized that he could get special treatment if he got me to date him?

“You said yourself that Dad would freak out,” I asserted. “So there’s no way Brady would think he’d get anything out of dating me. He’d probably hurt his career more than he’d help it.”

“You’re probably right. And is that something you want to feel guilty about? What if your dad gets Brady traded to another team?”

I hadn’t considered that. Would Dad do something like that?

I winced inwardly. If Dad truly thought it was in my best interest to send Brady to Siberia, he’d do it. I knew my dad well enough to believe he was capable of that.

“I also just don’t see Brady as my son-in-law,” Mom remarked.

“We’re just talking about dating, not getting married.”

“Sweetheart, you and I both know that you aren’t the type to date casually. Brady is. And I’ll be honest, for that reason, I’d have a hard time trusting him.” She patted my leg. “I know you wanted to hear me say something else, but I have to be honest here.”

“I know.”

I understood where Mom was coming from, even if I didn’t totally agree with her. But her words made me pause, because what if I was heading straight into disaster? Was I letting this crush of mine block out the truth about Brady?

Brady isn’t a bad guy, I reminded myself. In fact, he was the opposite. Hadn’t he tried his hardest to stay away from me, but I wouldn’t let him? He’d always been protective of me as well.

And now he wanted to date me. If he didn’t care about me, why even bring that suggestion up?

I had a feeling that my parents simply misunderstood Brady. Just like the world would misunderstand if they found out that he’d been going to a sex club.

God, I couldn’t imagine the uproar if Dad found out about Brady and me going to the Scarlet Rope. He wouldn’t just banish Brady; he’d murder him.

Despite all my misgivings, I was still excited to go on actual dates with Brady. And, really, what could a date or two hurt? Maybe we’d realize we actually had nothing in common besides animal lust.

Sorry, Mom, I thought to myself after we’d returned home. But I can’t listen to you this time.