Chapter 30 Grace Nash

I'm Married to Those Abs

Four Days After the Wedding

Wherever he's going, he's in a rush.

At first, I think he's planning some surprise for Grayson, particularly when he tells me to wait a second as he walks into his brother's bedroom.

But he emerges a moment later holding a box of condoms, and… ohhhh .

I don't bother telling him I've been on birth control for years. We haven't really spoken specifics about our histories, and if he wants to play this game prepared, I'm all for that.

He grabs my hand and pulls me up another set of stairs to a door on the third floor, which he opens.

I step in and find a guest room complete with furniture…but no guests.

He steps into the room and kicks the door shut behind him. He tosses the box onto the bed, and before I have even a moment to realize what's going on, his mouth crashes down to mine.

This is a different Spencer than the one I've come to know. This one is hot and hard and absolutely crazed with lust .

Now this …this is the kiss I've been waiting for. His body moves in toward me, backing me up against the door, and I hear the quiet click of the lock, signaling privacy for whatever we want to do next.

And I guess if we got married in his brother's clothes, it only makes sense to have sex in his brother's guest bedroom.

Or something like that.

His kiss is fierce and demanding as his fingertips move toward my hip. The fire that's been building between us is a raging inferno now—like the ones we've stared into so many times side by side in the firepits behind the tasting room back home, but this one is all because of the heat that's been building between us for the last four days.

Our tongues tangle together as I wrap my arms around his neck, and all I can do is hang on for the ride that's been a few days or maybe two years in the making.

He somehow intensifies the kiss, the urgency fervent between us as we plow forward into this new, uncharted territory. This kiss doesn't follow any sort of sensible pattern—it's messy and beautiful as those fingertips dig into my hip as if he's doing everything he can to hold himself back from the rush of need he feels.

I don't want him to hold himself back. I want him to give it all to me.

His intention is clear with that entire box of condoms, and I'm here for it. The whole box.

I tangle my fingers in his neat, slicked-back hair, mussing up his trim, tidy appearance a bit. He likes it, and I know that because his tongue changes course as he seems to lose control. He's falling apart, and it's because of me.

I'm not sure I've experienced anything hotter than that in my entire life.

He groans as he thrusts his hips against me. It's as if he's trying to get inside me even though there are far too many clothes separating us, but this wild lust that's been building has to be satisfied. Now.

His tongue moves from tangling to thrashing, and then he closes his mouth and trails his lips from mine down my neck. I lean my head on the door, arching my back into him and lengthening my neck to give him more space to work with. I can't help a soft moan and a shiver as he kisses his way down my neck toward my collarbone, and then he moves back up toward my neck, leaving soft, wet kisses as he drags his lips along my skin.

"I'm so fucking hard for you," he murmurs, his tone full of desperation as his words heat my skin. He thrusts his hips against mine again as if he's proving his words true.

I trail one hand down to feel him, palming his length over his slacks as he drives his hips into my hand with a grunt. "Oh, God, yes," I moan as I feel how hard he really is.

"You're going to be moaning that again in a minute when I'm inside you," he warns.

I can't help a small chuckle. "Prove it." My words are all hoarse and throaty, need evident in them as he moves his lips back to mine.

He reaches under my dress, shoves it up, and yanks my panties to the side all in the span of a heartbeat—well, a normal heartbeat, anyway, since my current one is quite a bit accelerated.

I have no idea what sort of lover he is. Gentle, fast, selfish, selfless, or something else. But I know in this moment, I want to give him all of me.

He slides a finger right into me, and I whimper some incoherent throaty noise at the feel.

"Jesus, that's a hot, wet cunt," he breathes.

"Wet for you," I murmur. He thrusts his finger, pushing up harder into me, and I moan. This man is about to get me off standing upright against the door when honestly, achieving an orgasm in the past for me was like aligning all the stars in the sky for one perfect, magical moment.

It's been a while since I've been with a man, and the others were boys compared to Spencer.

To be fair, my experience is limited. There was Patrick, and before him, my high school boyfriend, whom I lost my virginity to .

Apart from a few kisses here and there, nobody else really even hit the radar.

Until Spencer.

And now it feels like he's the only one who ever really deserved to be on the radar.

I claw onto his shoulder as he fingers me, the edges of pleasure folding in on me, and then it all stops. He pulls his finger out, and he reaches down for the bottom of my dress. He pulls it over my head in a quick swoop until I'm standing in front of him wearing just my black panties and bra set, and he backs up a pace and stares at me.

He shakes his head a little as his eyes move to mine. "Jesus Christ, I'm the luckiest man alive."

I can't help it. The needy ache pounding at my core prompts me into action, and I leap at him.

His words are everything, and while my previous relationships were fine, nobody has ever given me the sort of reassurance and encouragement Spencer Nash does.

He catches me with a grunt, and my legs hook around his waist as I cradle his jaw between my palms and lower my mouth to his. He thrusts his rather hard cock up at me, and I'm in a frenzy to get to the part where we're both naked and he's sliding into me.

We don't have a ton of time—later we will, sure, but right now, we're at a wedding. We need to get back downstairs before anyone realizes we've gone missing, before his family starts making assumptions about our whereabouts, even though they all still believe this is a business deal more than anything.

Somehow it's become more to both of us, and as I kiss him and move my hands from his jaw to wrap my arms around his shoulders, it feels like the kind of thing that could last forever.

He shifts us, walks across the room, and leans down until I feel the cool comforter under my back. He backs off me as I bend my knees and set my feet right at the edge of the bed to watch his every move.

He shakes off his tux jacket and tosses it on the floor, and next comes the tie and the cufflinks. He works the buttons on his shirt next, and he tosses that on the floor, too, along with the undershirt he wore.

He stands in front of me in just his black slacks as he kicks off his shoes, and my eyes zero in on those abs.

Good Lord.

I'm married to those abs.

I'm about to get banged into oblivion by those abs.

I think I'm in love with those abs.

Scratch that.

I'm definitely in love with those abs. And the man who owns them.

He unbuckles his belt and drops his slacks next, and then he stands in just a pair of black boxer briefs with a giant bulge in the center.

I draw in a shaky breath as I wait for him to return, and when he does, he slides his palms from my ankles up my calves, along my knees, and down my thighs until he hooks his thumbs into my panties. He drags them slowly down my legs, tossing them on top of his pile of clothes, and he pushes my knees apart to give himself a bird's-eye view of my pussy.

A groan rises up from his chest, and I swear I've never felt a throb quite like the one that pulses at his needy sounds.

I watch him carefully, not sure what his next move is going to be as I clutch the sheets between my fists.

"Fuck, you look so hot right now."

He leans down and pulls me up a little to unhook my bra, and once it's on the floor with the rest of our clothes, he buries his face between my breasts. I let go of my grip on the bedding to pull his face into my chest, and he moves over a little to suck one of my hard nipples into his mouth.

"Yes, Spencer. Yes," I murmur.

He runs his tongue back and forth over the tight bud while he makes a similar movement with his thumb on the other one, and I thrust my hips up as I try to find some relief from the pressure between my thighs, some friction, something, anything to alleviate the pain there .

He shifts his hips back out of my reach, continuing the teasing on my nipples, and I make some sound of desperation that's enough to spur him into action.

He pulls away from me completely, and I'm desperate as I reach my fingers down between my legs to rub some relief onto my clit. He catches me as he grabs the box of condoms, and he stops, shifting back to take my hand away from what I'm doing.

He raises a brow at me, his grip firm on my wrist. "That's my job."

"Hurry," I sob, even more desperate than I realized.

He wastes no time fishing a condom out of the box, pulling off his briefs, tearing the packet, and rolling it on.

I take the time to appreciate the full naked body of Spencer Nash for the very first time.

His cock is pointed straight up, and it's huge. Way bigger than the other two I was with, but not so big that I'm intimidated by it.

Okay, well…maybe a little.

He's packing some heat there, that's for sure, but I'm so lost in lust that I can't quite comprehend much of anything at the moment other than I need to know exactly what that feels like inside of me.

His gaze meets my eyes, and he runs a fingertip along my jawline before his finger moves up to my lips. He pushes the finger into my mouth, and I wrap both my hands around his one hand as I suck on his finger.

"Fuck, Grace. Someday, I'm going to fuck your mouth. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow. But right now, it's your cunt I'm after."

With those words, he pushes my shoulder back and pulls his finger from my mouth. I settle back onto the bed, and he remains standing as I wrap my legs around his waist. He grips onto his dick and strokes it a few times, and then he slides it through my slit. His eyes meet mine as he lines himself up and pushes into me for the very first time, and I close my eyes as my head rolls back.

Holy hell .

"Fuuuuck," he groans as he seats himself in as deeply as he can go.

It's pure, unadulterated perfection as my body adjusts to his size and he starts to move.

"Jesus, that's so tight," he curses, and it's true. I'm so wet for him that he glides easily in and out, and I keep my legs wrapped around his waist as he drives into me. I grip the sheets again, my body tightening everywhere, and he leans forward and grips onto my breasts, massaging them as he thrusts into me over and over.

It feels so good. He feels so good.

I open my eyes to see him staring at me, wonder and a bit of awe in his eyes amid tenderness, even though he's pounding into me like he can't fuck me hard enough or fast enough. It's somehow gentle and rough at the same time, and the answer to my earlier question about how he fucks?

Perfection.

Complete and total perfection, as if our two bodies were put on this planet solely to find each other and do this.

The connection between us is strong enough that I can feel my orgasm looming closer and closer.

"Oh, God, Spencer," I yell. He keeps going. "You feel so good," I moan.

He leans down, and I feel the heat of his body over me as his lips find my neck. I dig my feet into his ass to urge him to keep going, and he's panting when his voice moves toward my ear. "I love hearing the sounds you make while I'm fucking you."

His thrusts somehow pick up speed and intensity, and I start to scream. "Oh God, oh God, oh God!" He slaps a hand over my mouth at the third oh God , and he leans forward as he continues his drives into me.

"Shh," he warns, his voice breathless close to my ear. "They'll hear us."

It's only then that I notice the music that was pounding outside has come to a stop. Someone is saying something—the best man's speech, maybe, or the maid of honor's. Or maybe it's a prayer, and I'm up here praying, too, as I just screamed, " OhGodOhGodOhGod ," over and over.

"This pussy is fucking addicting. You are fucking addicting." His lips land on my neck again.

The thought that what we're doing up here in private during a party going on downstairs collides with Spencer hitting that spot inside me that's pure magic. His hand is still over my mouth, and something about that is really hot.

Like… insanely hot.

So hot that I start to come. I thrash wildly as my body takes control, and he wrings every last drop of pleasure out of me, pounding into me over and over with the force of his hand on my mouth not allowing me to scream through the pleasure the way I need to.

"Fuck, Grace," he mutters, letting up his grip on my mouth. He shakes out his hand. "That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen. You're going to make me come so fucking hard." He growls out the last part of his words, and then he shoves up a little harder into me as I feel him start to let go. His mouth finds mine again as he releases into me with a series of grunts, and he shoves hard and stays seated there a few beats as his release draws to an epic and sensual end.

He wraps his arms around me and holds me as he stays inside me, and I get the sudden feeling like I don't want him to pull out. He feels like a part of me now.

In the past, when the sex was over—which usually ended with the man's climax first followed by getting me off with his fingers—I was ready for it to be over.

But with Spencer, I want to stay here forever basking in his warmth, his scent, his sex, his love.

All good things must come to an end, though, of course. That's how life works. He slips out of me, and I have the immediate sensation that as beautiful and magical as that was, I don't want it to be over. I don't want to be apart from him. I don't want to lose the beautiful connection we just made.

Not because I wasn't totally satisfied by it.

I was. And then some.

But I already want it again.

After one time, I'm addicted—just as he said he's addicted to me .

And I'm not quite sure how I'm going to let him go after our year together is up.

Maybe you don't have to .

A tiny voice intrudes on my thoughts, and hope fills me.

We have a lot of obstacles ahead of us…but I'm going to hold onto the hope that tiny voice gives me for as long as I can. Maybe forever.

He keeps kissing me for a bit even after he slips out, and eventually he pulls back. He's leaning over me, his face close to mine, when he says, "Wow, Grace. That was even better than I imagined it would be."

"You imagined it?" I tease, raising a brow.

He chuckles as he nips one more kiss to my lips then straightens to a stand, and I drop my legs to the floor, relief flooding me after the workout they just got.

"You have no idea," he murmurs, and he disappears to the en suite bathroom for a few beats before he returns and starts to pull his clothes back on. I force myself up from the bed, and I use the restroom next.

When I emerge, he's tucking his button-down shirt back into his slacks.

"I liked your other outfit better," I tease.

He strides across the room and takes me into his arms. "And I like this one you've got on."

I giggle, and then he lets me go.

"I guess we should get back downstairs," he says.

I reluctantly head toward my clothes to start getting dressed. "Before anyone notices we're gone, anyway."

He smirks. "Probably too late for that."

"You think they know?"

"Well, Asher does since I asked him for a condom, but he didn't have any, so I hit up Grayson, who came through in the clutch."

I set my hand over my eyes. "Oh my God. They know what we were going to go do?"

He laughs. "I needed a condom. If you saw the way you were looking at me all day, you'd understand."

"If it's anything like the way you were looking at me, I do. "

He shrugs. "It was building for a while, I think."

I pull on my panties first, and then my bra. "How long for you?"

He shrugs. "Honestly? Probably since the night I met you."

I gasp. "What?"

"That night I met you, I was drawn to you first. But you didn't seem interested, and your sister took the reins, and I buried whatever I thought I felt for you. The rest is history. Or it was, anyway, until she cheated on me, which I get the feeling may have been happening the entire time we were together."

I slip my dress back over my head and smooth it out. "I didn't seem interested that night?"

"Not as interested as she was."

"I was. The moment I met you, I felt like we were a better match. But you left with her because she was louder."

He takes a step toward me and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. "It was your quiet beauty that always intrigued me, Gracie."

I don't know why, but hearing him call me that feels intimate and precious. "It was everything about you that always intrigued me," I admit. I glance up into his eyes, and I see it there.

We're both at the precipice of this…this…this thing . It's big and lovely at the same time that it's terrifying. We could dive into it headfirst and see where it takes us, but neither of us is used to taking those sorts of risks.

Especially not when I need him for the next year. I can't go all in only to lose both him and the winery before our year together is up.

And I especially can't lose to Amelia. Not again.

Not ever again.

He presses a quick kiss to my lips before things get too much heavier in here. "Let's head back down, okay?"

I nod, and slipping my hand into his feels so natural. So right.

I just hope I can hold onto that feeling for longer than a year.

Forever seems like a decent amount of time to me.