Sam walked to the counter and pulled out his wallet. He gave his name and slid his credit card to the man behind the desk.
“Absolutely not,” he said, pulling Grace into his arms. He buried his head into her shoulder. “Richard and Sarah are still watching us.”
Grace rested her palms on his cheeks and stared deeply into his eyes with their mouths only inches apart. She licked her lips. “I think they’re still in shock, or maybe Sarah’s regretting that I got the brother with all the stamina. That’s another thing girls like.”
She pressed her mouth to his in a slow, sensual kiss that would make her momma blush and her Aunt Betty hoot and holler for more. Mint exploded in her mouth as his cologne cocooned her in hisexquisite smell. His tongue danced with hers as the heat between them grew. If he was faking his need and desire, then he was better than she thought. A kiss like that was for the record books. He took what she so willingly gave and pulled her closer, holding her back as he bent her slightly over his arm.
“Hmm hmm.” The desk clerk cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”
Sam broke the kiss but stared deep into Grace’s eyes, as if just the sight mesmerized him. “Yeah.”
“Sir, your room.”
“Right.” He turned back to the desk and glanced at her once more before shaking his head. “Our room.”
“Our room.” Grace wiggled her brows and slowly licked her lips, savoring his taste. It wasn’t until he had the room key and the luggage that she noticed the couple was gone. One point for Grace and Sam, officially team Grasam. Maybe she should get them some shirts made. That might piss the bride off just a bit more. The thought had merit.
Chapter Five
Grace stoodin front of the window looking down at the glistening pool twinkling beneath the night stars. A few guests were sitting in the chairs drinking beers. A couple was in the pool making out.
Sam stood next to her and glanced down. “I didn’t peg you for a voyeur.”
“Look, she has her own flotation devices.” Grace grinned. The woman’s fake breasts were about the size of two oversized melons. “Maybe that’s what I’m lacking.” Grace cupped her breasts and squeezed.
“You have plenty,” Sam said, crossing the room and unzipping his suitcase.
She moved to hers and pulled out her black gel-filledTomb Raider-style pushup bra. “I know how to fake it.”
“Lesson number one. Men like real women, not the plastic kind. A handful is all that’s needed, and judging by your top, I’d say you have more than enough to satisfy any man.”
“You must be a leg man.”
“I don’t discriminate. All parts of a woman are beautiful. Would you like me to demonstrate?”
“You want to fill me up, don’t you, big guy?”
He took her hand and moved her to look at herself in front of a mirror. “Your eyes are the windows to your soul. Any man worth a damn will compliment how beautiful they are.” He cleared his throat and rested his palms on her shoulders. “Your skin is silky smooth. Men should be begging to kiss every inch of it.”
Her heart skipped a beat as he gestured to her breasts in the reflection, being a gentleman, he rested his palms on her ribcage just beneath her breasts without touching. Damn it if she didn’t want to move grab them and put them where she’d hoped he would touch.
“Those are plenty big enough. More than a handful and just right.”
She wiggled her ass against him and felt his arousal. He’d be in need of a cold shower soon. For that matter, so would she.
He moved his hands down over her hips, sending shivers down her spine. Her mouth went dry as she thought about those hands roaming her body sans clothing. “Your curves are womanly and perfect, in all the right places.”
“You’re good for my ego. Will you come over and remind me every morning? I could make it worth your while.” She chuckled as he gave her a little squeeze.
“You know what I like best about you, Grace Thatcher?” he asked, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “Your mind. The way you find humor in everything, and the way you’ll help people you barely know. There is absolutely no reason you should still be single, and I have every intention of helping you rectify that.”
“I’d look like your ex if I started man-hunting when I already suggested I was here with you.”
“You’re nothing like my ex,” he said before releasing her. He grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom.
Holy mother of guacamole. He’d left her body tingly, and she stared after him long after he had shut the door. This man was bad. So very bad. This vacation was going to be fun. Women probably ate thatshit up, and she’d been one of them. He was a living, breathing Casanova. He’d been going to give her pointers in how to spot the players in a bunch of available men. Maybe she should have been asking for tips on the art of seduction. She was already taking mental notes. Only women would find a way to flunk, just so they could take the class again. She would.
Grace grabbed her clothes and slipped into a pair of boy shorts and a tank top before grabbing her toothbrush. She wrapped her knuckles on the door and waited for him to answer.
