Page 81 of Rome
I swallowed hard, thinking of how much Caleb liked it. “Not perfume,” I croaked, then cleared my throat. “It’s a line of cherry blossom-scented bath products.”
“Well, whatever it is, you smell good enough to eat.” He playfully nibbled on my neck, then turned me around in his arms.
He dipped his head to capture my mouth in a sweet kiss, and after a moment of hesitation, I forced myself to relax in his hold. His tongue glided along my lips, seeking entrance, then he deepened the kiss. I felt a faint spark low in my belly as his tongue tangled with mine. We kissed like that for several minutes before Grant slid his hands down to my ass and pulled my hips flush with his.
I could feel his growing hardness pressed against me, and he groaned softly in my ear.
“You drive me crazy; do you know that?” His hands kneaded the still-ample cheeks of my ass, and then I felt one of them slide down my thigh, then up under the hem of my dress. He stroked upward over the bare skin along the back of my thigh, then ran his fingertips just under the edge of the pretty lace panties I’d bought for the trip. I’d reasoned that even if I were the only one seeing the pretty bra and panty set, they would boost my self-confidence.
I shivered as goosebumps broke out over my skin, and Grant laughed softly.
“Oh, you like that, huh?” His breath ghosted over the side of my face as he whispered those words, then he claimed my mouth again.
He broke the kiss long enough to say, “Let’s see what else you like,” as he led me to the bed behind us.
I clutched his shoulders as he reached for the zipper on my dress, slowly lowering it until my entire back was exposed. His hands skimmed over my back, then he reached up to pull my dress off my shoulders so that it pooled around my waist. My upper body was bare to him, with my breasts barely contained in the satin and lace bra I was wearing. I shivered, more from nerves than anything else. The tiny spark in my belly had died, replaced by a ball of dread that I tried to will away.
He ran a fingertip across the top of one bra cup, following the edge as it dipped into my cleavage.
“Very pretty,” he murmured, then reached around me to unfasten it in a clearly well-practiced move, but I stopped him.
“Grant,” my voice was low, but he heard the urgency in it and stilled. He pulled back slightly to peer down at me.
“I…I don’t think…” my voice trailed off as I tried to put my feelings into words.
“No?”
I nodded sadly, ashamed that I’d led him on. “I’m sorry. I thought I could do this, but I’m just not ready.”
“It’s OK, babe. It won’t be easy, but I can wait.” He pulled my dress back up into place, then took a step back. He sat down on the end of the bed with a sigh, as I stood there, feeling uncomfortable with my dress still gaping open in the back. I knew what I needed to do, though. I had to put a stop to this. Hell, I never should have started it in the first place, and I felt like shit for it.
“I can’t ask you to wait, Grant.” He looked up at me, and I winced at the look of resignation on his face as he saw the resolve on mine. “I’m not ready to move on. I’m not sure I even want to. I’m still in love with him, and I don’t think that will ever change.”
I started to apologize again, but he put up a hand to stop me.
“Don’t apologize. I went into this knowing you weren’t over him, but I thought it was worth a chance.” He chuckled and looked up at me with a rueful smile. “I think I could have really fallen for you, so I’m glad you’ve ended it now, before I got in too deep.”
I brushed away a tear, relieved that Grant was taking it so well. I looked around the room, unsure what to do now.
“There are extra linens for the sofa in the closet. I’ll sleep there tonight, and you can have the bed,” he offered as he pushed himself off the bed.
I eyed the small sofa, then looked at Grant, who was easily over six-foot-tall. “No, you take the bed. The sofa is much more my size.”
He started to object, and I raised an eyebrow as I motioned to the sofa. “There’s no way you’ll fit on that. I’ll be perfectly fine on it, really.”
“OK, you twisted my arm. Now go get ready for bed. The least I can do is make up the sofa for you.”
I took a quick shower, needing to remove his touch and his scent from my skin. It wasn’t Grant’s fault, but I just couldn’t bear it one more second. It took a while for me to get to sleep, although judging by the soft snoring coming from the bed, Grant didn’t have any such trouble. The sofa was more comfortable than I’d thought it would be, but I couldn’t get my brain to shut off.
Neither of us had much to say as we got ready the next morning. By unspoken agreement, we checked out of the hotel right after breakfast and got on the road for the two-hour drive back to Indianapolis. We were both quiet on the way back, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Finally, when we were about ten miles from my house, Grant broke the silence by asking if I was going to get back together with Caleb.
“I don’t know if that’s possible, or if he even wants to,” I sighed.
“I know it’s not my business, but I think you owe it to yourself to try.”
He dropped me off shortly after eleven. He carried my bag to the door and kissed my cheek before stepping back off the porch.
“Take care of yourself, Abby. Maybe I’ll see you at the gym and we can grab a juice or something from time to time.”
