I looked back at Jack, and he nodded to say it was my choice.

“I think we’ve decided on a little room service instead, right, George?” I asked, grinning cheekily at him.

“Whatever the lady wants.” He grinned back at me as I led him past the still-stunned hotel employee and out the door. He then led me to the bank of elevators next to the banquet center. As we waited for the elevator to arrive, we began to kiss. At first slowly, tiny little pecks, but they quickly grew into wonderfully sloppy kisses.

An elevator arrived, just as the doors to the adjacent banquet room opened and dozens of women from the Greater New York Area Quilting Society poured out after their buffet lunch. And there they found their Super Sexy Scientist Guy groping an older redhead. Shocked whispers turned to swooning frenzy in less time than it took to blink. Phone cameras appeared instantly.

“Grace, we need to get out of here,” Jack whispered in my ear, trying to shield me from the cameras as we hurriedly stepped into the elevator.

I laughed out loud. Nothing was gonna kill my buzz. “Ah, f**k it, George. C’mere.” I giggled and jumped up into his arms. I wrapped my legs around him and kissed him. Like it was my job.

He responded without hesitation, kissing me back with equal force as the doors closed. The quilting bee took plenty of pictures, and I didn’t care for a second. This was my life, his life, our life, and we might as well get used to it.

Chapter 17

He held me the whole way up in the elevator, refusing to put me down. We kissed slowly and leisurely, exploring each other’s mouths again, with serious attention to detail. When we got to his floor, he swung me up onto his back and carried me piggyback down the hall.

“Wow, swanky digs, Hamilton,” I said as I took in his suite from my perch on his back.

“Nothing but the best for this guy,” he said, closing the door and locking it behind us.

“I’ll say,” I responded softly, laying my cheek against his shoulder and squeezing his waist with my legs.

He walked me over to a big chair in the corner and dumped me unceremoniously.

“Hey!” I exclaimed.

He settled himself on the floor in front of me on his knees, his hands holding onto my legs. His fingertips made little patterns on my thighs while he studied me carefully.

“We need to finish talking,” I said gently, tracing his cheekbones and jaw line with my fingertips. We seemed to need the physical contact.

“I know.” He sighed and laid his head in my lap.

I scratched his head.

He made Jack’s Happy Sound.

We sat like this for a while. Just being.

“Grace, I want to ask you something,” he said, his voice a little muffled by my thigh.

“Ask me anything,” I said. And I meant it. No more secrets, no more half-truths, no more keeping anything from him.

“Did you mean it when you said you thought we were in a little sex bubble? Is that really all you think we are?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I sighed. “Look at me, please,” I said, and he turned his face upward.

“I was out of my mind when I said that. I do think we were in a bubble when we first were together in L.A., but only because everything was so fast and concentrated—and it was fantastic. Then I left. And we never got to see each other. There was never a normal progression to our relationship. Amazing, but not normal.”

It was his turn to sigh as he laid his head back into my lap. But I put my hand under his chin and turned him back toward me.

“Here’s what I realized, Jack. What’s normal? That’s one of the things I was concerned about—this need to be normal, to be defined. Is it normal for two people so far apart in age to fall in love? Nope, but we did. Now think about everything else. Neither one of us is living a normal existence. Everything about us—our lives, our careers—is the opposite of normal. And how amazing is that?” I said, giving him a light slap on the cheek.

He grinned. “Fuck normal,” he said.

“Yeah, f**k normal. I don’t want normal. All I want is you, George.”

He rose to his knees, bringing himself within kissing distance. “We still need to talk about some things,” he said, the green beginning to darken.

“Yep,” I said, sliding down a little in the chair to get closer to my Brit.

“I want to hear more about this—what did you call it? Baby train? I want to hear about this baby train you may or may not be on,” he said, his hands slipping below me and hitching my legs up around his waist.

“Mm-hmm…” I snaked my arms around his neck as he lifted me out of the chair. He began to walk me toward the bedroom.

“And we need to have a very long talk about what we’re going to do if you get freaked out again,” he said, his eyes the color of the sky before a big, fat, Midwestern summer thunderstorm. In other words, really f**king dark.

I shivered a little. “I’m not gonna freak again. What if you get freaked?” I asked as we moved into his room.

He rolled his eyes as he held me above the bed, then dropped me. He stood back to look at me. His eyes raked me up and down, and I scooted to the edge of the bed, pulling him closer to me. I clutched at him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head against his tummy. I inhaled deeply, breathing in that inherent Hamilton scent, and I felt warm and toasty instantly. I inhaled again, and he chuckled, bringing his hands to me, brushing my hair back from my face as I looked up at him. I rested my chin on his belt buckle and gazed at him as he traced his fingertips across my forehead, my eyelids, my cheeks, and finally my lips.

I parted them and took his thumb into my mouth, sucking gently. I pressed down slightly with my teeth and delighted in the lust that tore through his eyes at the sensation. I brought his thumb deeper into my mouth, tasting the salt of his skin, and I knew I wanted to take care of this man for the rest of my life.

I reached up and grasped his shoulders, pulling myself up, dragging my body against his along the way. I stepped out, turning him so he was against the bed, and I was in front of him. In one swift move, I removed his shirt and tossed it to the floor. He smiled, and I grinned back as I began to work at his jeans. He let me, watching carefully. I quickly pulled them down and helped him step out of them, along with his shoes.

I stepped back, tearing my sweater over my head and disposing of my bra. I stood before him, watching his eyes grow even darker as he took me in. With a wink and a nod, I nudged my skirt down, stepping out of my panties carefully so he could see me, all of me.

“Brilliant,” he breathed, and I pressed myself into his arms. I kissed him deeply, with everything I had. I trailed my hands to his boxers and pushed them down as well, again helping him step out of them.

We stood, gazing at each other, our eyes taking in all that we’d almost let get away—all I had very nearly thrown away. I reached behind him, grabbed a pillow, and dropped it at his feet. I pushed him backward to sit on the bed and placed his arms around me, pressing his head against my belly, hugging him close. His hands held my body, face nuzzling at my skin as I ran my hands through his hair. He began to kiss my tummy, dancing soft, wet kisses left to right, his nose dragging deliciously across my skin.

But this was about him.

I dropped to my knees and looked up at him. He cradled my face in his hands as I perched on the pillow, totally bare and full of love. “I could not love you more,” I whispered, and took him in hand. I stroked the length of him, fluttering my fingertips along his smooth skin, feeling the softness over the hard, silk over steel.

He closed his eyes and grinned that crooked grin as he felt me tending to him.

I kissed him sweetly and tenderly, then gently took him inside my mouth. His hands continued to hold my face, with just as much tenderness. I took him in slowly, exquisitely, and as he hit the back of my throat, he moaned. I withdrew slowly, following with my hand, squeezing gently and chancing a quick look up at the perfection that was my Jack.

His head was thrown back, strong jaw clenched as he let me take care of him. I took him in again, swallowing and sucking and making my mouth tight around him. I swirled my tongue around his head, and then underneath, tickling gently while my nails dragged up and down the inside of his thighs and across his abdomen, eliciting a truly magnificent groan.

I let my teeth graze his length as I withdrew again, and as my hands took over for my mouth, I watched him. “Look at me, love,” I prompted, and he opened his lust-filled eyes. There was my green. His hands dug into my hair as I took him in my mouth again, and he groaned as he watched me pump him in and out of my mouth, faster now and with conviction. I sucked, swirled, teased, tantalized, and loved him as only I could—and only I would, from now on.

As his h*ps began to buck faster and his hands became more urgent, I could feel myself becoming aroused simply by his arousal and the sweet sounds Jack made before he came. I moved with him, taking him in deeper and deeper and letting my hands take over what my mouth could not.

His hands were constantly in my hair, guiding me, moving me with him, and I knew he was seconds away from his release. Selfishly, I wanted to watch him—there’s nothing in the world more beautiful than the sight of my Jack coming. But this was about him, and making him feel this as intensely as possible, so I kept my mouth around him while I felt him begin to shake.

His breath came fast and loud, his groans grew guttural, and just before I brought him to where he needed to be, he moaned my name.

“Grace,” he said, the word falling from his lips as he came, brilliantly.

I stayed with him the entire time, caring for him while he moaned above me, his hands lazy in my hair as his breath slowed. I kissed up one thigh and down the other, smiling into his skin.

He was shaking, and as I stood to climb into bed with him, his hands shot out and cuddled me to him before I could step away. He hugged me close, clutching as his breathing became steady again. I wrapped my arms around him as tightly as I could, sweeping kisses across his forehead, pressing my fingertips to his temples and cheeks.

“Come here, please?” I asked, and moved to lie on the bed. I pulled him down to me, draping the comforter over us as we tried to get as close to each other as we could. His head nestled between my chest and shoulder, and his hands came up to my breasts. I trailed my fingers up and down his back, drawing circles as I wrapped my legs around his thighs, hugging him with my entire body.

He was still shivering a little, still coming down. I held him close and whispered “I love you” over and over again as I kissed his head.

He finally stopped shaking and sighed greatly. “I love you too, Gracie, more than you could possibly know,” he whispered and nuzzled into my neck further.

“Thank you, George. Thank you,” I whispered as I clung to him.

“You smell like coconuts and clean laundry,” he breathed, and promptly fell asleep.

I was home.

***

We woke from our nap a few hours later, hunger finally drawing us from the bed and to the room service menu. Our long-forgotten lunch, coupled with our coupling, made for a famished George and Gracie. I padded about in his shirt, and he lounged in his jeans, and we ordered PB&Js and chicken noodle soup, Four Seasons style.

After our feast arrived, we returned to the bedroom, sandwiches and bowls of soup along for the ride, and crawled back into bed. We ate sitting cross-legged next to each other, and I admitted that I’d seen Time.

“Was the theater crowded?” he asked through a mouthful of jelly.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Sweet Nuts, and yes, it was very crowded. There was a fair amount of squealing when you first appeared onscreen.” I winked at him.

He blushed and rolled his eyes.

“And the love scenes? Hot, love, very hot. The women loved it. Of course I was miserable,” I told him, sipping my soup.

He choked a little on his own soup, dribbling noodles onto his chin.

I laughed and handed him a napkin.

“Thanks, but why were you miserable?”

I thought for a moment, then explained. “Because I didn’t know if I’d ever get to be with you again, and it made me really sad,” I said, looking down into my soup, chasing the noodles with my spoon. “I’d also eaten an entire bucket of popcorn, so I felt a little sick to my tummy,” I added, which made him smile.

He rubbed my tummy absently as he took another bite of his PB&J, chewing thoughtfully. I set my bowl on the nightstand and brushed the crumbs off my lap.

“I wondered that myself, Grace—whether I’d kissed you for the last time, and if we’d ever be here again, like this,” he said, swallowing hard and setting his plate down on his side of the bed.

Different city, different bed, and yet we each gravitated to our own side. Comforting. But now we were in the middle.

I leaned against his shoulder, and he brought his arm up around me, letting me snuggle into his side.

“It’s a damn good thing we’re back together, Nuts Girl,” he said.

“Mmm, yes it is,” I said, snuggling closer to him and letting my leg drape over his, angling me toward him.

“Especially since the last time we had sex you had a T-shirt on your head for most of it. That’s hardly the way to go out.” He laughed.

“As I recall, you were not complaining for long.” I giggled as I let my hand wander across his tummy, my fingers grasping here and there at the little hairs on his happy trail.

“Oh, God, no, it was amazing as always, but hardly the way you’d want to do it if that was gonna be our last fuck,” he said seriously, his eyes twinkling and betraying his tone.

“That’s crass, George,” I sassed, letting my fingers dip below the top of his halfway-unbuttoned jeans.