I Love How You Love Me

  "I like them all," he said in a raw voice that perfectly backed up his claim. "What does it look like?"

  "Sheer white lace. Pink silk trim. Similar to what I had on Wednesday night underneath my dress."

  He groaned. "You're so beautiful, you blow my mind. Can you put the phone on speaker without waking up Mason?"

  "If I keep the volume down low."

  "Good, because I'm going to want you to be able to use both hands."

  Now she was the one groaning. "Dylan--"

  "God, I love it when you say my name like that. Like you're dying for me to touch you."

  "I am. I want you so badly."

  "Take off your shirt and imagine my fingertips grazing your skin, and then my lips when I can't keep my mouth off you."

  She lifted up the cotton. But where it should have been the same thing she'd done a million times before, tonight she couldn't get the image of Dylan taking it off out of her head.

  "Tell me what you see, what you feel. Every detail."

  She'd never done this with anyone else, never played a sexy game of pretend on the phone. Had always assumed that she'd be too embarrassed to be able to get into it. But Dylan made it all seem so easy, so natural.

  "I'm breathing faster already, just from dreaming of having your hands on me, and knowing that's just the start of all the amazing things you're going to do to me tonight."

  "Oh baby, you have no idea."

  She could have stopped there, knew he wouldn't push past her limits, but she wanted to know that she'd made him feel just as good. "The sound of your voice, the feel of your hands on my skin--they've made my breasts so sensitive beneath my bra."

  "Jesus." He blew out a breath. "That's the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life. That I've ever seen. Touch yourself, Grace. Touch your breasts."

  "Through the bra...or out of it?"

  "Keep it on for now. Tell me how it feels to have the lace scratch against your beautiful nipples."

  "Good," she said on a gasp of pleasure. "So good."

  "Bare. I need you bare now, need to see, need to touch, every inch of your perfect breasts."

  She reached for the clasp of her bra. "I'm taking it off right"--she clicked it open--"now."

  "I'll never be able to hear that sound again without getting hard. Are you touching yourself?"

  "Yes." She was whispering again, just loud enough for him to hear. "My breasts feel so full, so sensitive, like all you'll have to do is run your tongue over me and I'll explode."

  "Do you want me to be gentle tonight, Grace? Because I'm feeling pretty damn desperate, and I don't know if I can control myself too much longer."

  "I love it when you're gentle," she told him, "but I also love it when you can't help yourself and get a little rough."

  "Touch yourself the way I would if I were there with you right now. Like you've already made me lose control."

  She closed her eyes, and when she imagined Dylan's hands on her, a little rough and desperate with desire, a new rush of heat flooded her. "I love it when you start to lose control. It feels so good."

  "You have no idea how good it feels," he told her. "I could play with your breasts all night long. Would you want that, Grace? Would you want my hands and mouth on you for hours and hours?"

  "Please." She was nearly whimpering by now.

  "Soon," he promised, before saying, "now I want you to run your hands down over your ribs and stomach, appreciating every inch of your gorgeous body the way I would if I were there with you."

  She'd always been on the curvier side, and from the first moment Dylan had looked at her, and then when he'd touched her, she hadn't had to doubt just how much he loved her body. "You always make me feel so beautiful."

  "The most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he confirmed in a deep voice that resonated with need. "Undo the button on your jeans and then lower the zipper."

  The sound of the zipper coming apart had Dylan groaning again. "You have no idea how hot it is hearing that and knowing sheer lace is showing through. Tell me what you're doing now. Are you touching yourself? Or are you waiting for me to tell you to do it?"

  She knew by now how amazing, how hot sex with Dylan was when his hands, his mouth were on her. But what he was able to do to her with just his deep, sexy, hungry voice?

  She could hardly breathe, hardly think, she wanted him so much.

  "I want to touch myself so badly," she admitted. "I need to. But..."

  "You know that the anticipation of waiting for me to tell you to touch yourself will make it even better."

  "Yes."

  "You make me happy, Grace. So damned happy."

  "You make me happy, too." She was half naked on her couch having naughty phone sex...and she was smiling so big her cheeks hurt. "Really, really happy."

  "How about I make you even happier by telling you to take off your jeans now. But leave the white lace on for a little while longer."

  "Okay," she said a few seconds later, "my jeans are off."

  "I'm taking a mental picture of you right now, lying on your couch, almost naked, wet and ready for me." A low sound of pleasure rumbled from his chest through the phone. "Perfect. God, you're perfect." She thought she heard his zipper come down, too, then, but before she could ask, he said, "I want you to slip your hand inside your panties."

  She had to bite her lip to stifle her moan of pleasure as he finally instructed her to touch herself. "I'm inside."

  "Jesus, Grace, you almost made me lose it." She could hear his breath coming faster and loved knowing that she could make him lose control. "Tell me how you feel. I need to know how hot, how wet you are for me."

  "I've never felt like this before," she told him. "Like I can't wait another second or I'll go crazy."

  "Just a little longer," he urged her. "Just wait a little longer, and I promise I'll make it good for you."

  "I know you will. You always do."

  "Slide the lace down your legs now. Do it slow and easy, even though I know you want to tear it off just like I did the first time we were together on your couch."

  She truly did want to tear her panties off, wanted any barrier between the two of them gone, but she followed his directions, made herself go slowly.

  "Are they gone? Are you completely naked now?"

  "They are. I am." Her words were shaky. "Please, Dylan. Don't make me wait any longer."

  But instead of telling her it was finally time to let herself go over the edge, he said, "Run your hands up from your thighs, to your hips, then over your breasts."

  Every inch of her was so incredibly sensitive by now that even the slightest scrape of her nails over her skin had her gasping from sensation.

  "If I were there with you right now, I would follow the path of your hands with my mouth. I'd kiss and lick and bite my way up your body and then back down between your legs until you were screaming my name. And you'd taste so good that I wouldn't stop with one orgasm, I wouldn't stop with two--I'd take you over at least three times before I'd move back up your body again."

  She could barely stop from screaming his name now. "I'm so close, Dylan. I don't know if I can hold on any longer."

  "I love you, Grace." He paused just long enough for his beautiful words to sink in before adding, "Now come for me."

  She had barely touched herself when her back arched up off the couch and soul-deep pleasure exploded inside her.

  "That's it," he ground out, his own breath sounding as fevered as hers. "Don't stop touching yourself, don't stop making those beautiful little sounds. I'm right there with you." He uttered a low curse, one that vibrated through every inch of her in exactly the same way it did when he was hard and hot inside of her rather than nearly eight thousand miles away.

  "Dylan." Knowing that he was also touching himself, that he'd leaped off the peak with her, had her spiraling back up and into another climax.

  Neither of them spoke for a minute or two as they worked to catch their breath. She felt too wonderfully spe
nt to bother with putting her clothes on, so she simply reached for a blanket.

  "Did you like that?"

  She took the phone off speaker and held it against her ear, as though that would bring Dylan closer. "I loved it."

  She could practically see him smile through the phone. "You keep blowing my mind, Grace."

  "I might even have blown mine tonight," she teased, barely stifling a yawn halfway through.

  "You've had a long day. I should let you go to bed."

  She wanted to stay on the phone with him for hours, but she knew both of them needed clear heads tomorrow. He had a week-long race to start in his friend's boat, and she had a story to nail before she went to Mia's surprise party.

  "I love you, Grace. And if I can't reach you again for a few days while I'm racing, I want you to promise me you won't forget it."

  I love you, too, she thought. I love you so much. The words were on the tip of her tongue, playing over and over in her head so loudly that she half-thought he'd be able to hear them. But in the end, all she managed to say was, "I won't forget, Dylan. I promise."

  "Sweet dreams, sweetheart."

  "Sweet dreams."

  *

  Grace's thoughts were jumbled as she put the phone down. If anything should have been "just sex," it was what they'd just done. And yet, it had been so beautiful. So emotional.

  From the first, she'd known Dylan Sullivan was special. He made her feel things no other man ever had. And yet, she'd still been determined to deny it, to hide from it. But Dylan had been equally determined not to let her keep doing either one. Slowly, patiently, he'd touched her heart just as gently, and as thoroughly, as he touched her body.

  She'd taken that first scary step toward something real by letting his brother Adam know that they were no longer just interviewer/interviewee, but were dating. That had been frightening enough. Still, she'd told herself that just because they were officially dating didn't mean they wouldn't still be taking things slow.

  But tonight she could no longer deny what she really felt--and had felt almost from the first moment that Dylan had taken her son in his arms to calm his crying. A love that had already grown big. Strong. And undeniable.

  She'd been close, so close, to saying the three little words aloud on the phone tonight. But something had held her back at the last second. The fear that once she let herself believe, truly believe what they were building could last, it would all be ripped away from her.

  To let herself love Dylan Sullivan with all her heart and then lose him?

  Oh God, it hurt even to think of it.

  She'd been a wreck after her ex had dumped her, but it hadn't been because she was heartsick. It had been because she was disgusted with herself for being stupid enough to fall for his act. And after she'd vowed to protect both Mason's and her own heart, she'd told herself the two of them didn't need anyone else, that they were already a perfect little unit. That determined independence had gotten them across the country and settled into a new life in Seattle.

  But now...what if she truly opened up the door she'd locked down so tightly a year and a half ago? What if she decided to stop being so wary? To trust that Dylan meant it when he said he saw the three of them together forever? And to finally let him in so that her tight little unit of two became three?

  Of course, she already knew that opening a door for Dylan Sullivan actually meant pulling down an entire wall for his whole family. A big, wonderful family who had taken them in from the very first moment.

  Grace had been raised by two wonderful parents who had always taught her to look for the good in people. Yes, she'd been burned. Badly burned by her ex and the other Bentleys. But they hadn't destroyed her or Mason. Hadn't even come close.

  She'd trusted before, and with Dylan's help--and his love--she was learning to trust again.

  She nearly called him back, but she wanted to see his face when she finally said the three words she knew he'd been hoping to hear, wanted his arms around her when she risked everything by saying I love you.

  *

  Dylan's body was loose after the hottest phone sex in history, but his mind was racing so he grabbed a beer and stepped out on the deck of the waterfront condo in which his friend was putting him up for the night before they got out on the racing yacht.

  All day long, he'd been thinking about Grace. When would she accept her feelings? When would she trust him not to ever hurt her in any way? And when could he finally claim both Grace and Mason as his own?

  He'd called her without video because he'd wanted the intimacy of fantasy, the thrill of pretend, to be what drove them both over the edge. But even more than he'd wanted to be there with her tonight watching her skin flush and her eyes darken with desire as he made love to her, he wanted to see his ring on her finger. He wanted Mason to officially be a Sullivan. And he wanted to know that both of them were forever protected from anyone in the past who might try to rise up to hurt them.

  He'd texted his brothers to set up another meeting as soon as he returned from the race. This time, everyone would come with what they'd learned about the Bentleys to work out their game plan. Because in the same way that Dylan had had the sixth sense that his life was going to change right before Grace and Mason had shown up at his boathouse, his gut was now telling him that the wind was shifting again, quite possibly bringing a tornado this time.

  Dylan looked out over the Sydney Harbor, one he'd sailed many times in the past few years. He was looking forward to getting out on the water and breaking another record this year. But he was looking forward to getting back to Grace and Mason--the woman and child who were already and would forever be his--a hell of a lot more.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Grace had planned on working for a couple more hours the previous night after getting off the phone with Dylan. But, utterly and blissfully exhausted, all she could manage was to crawl into bed to rewind and replay every moment of their super-sexy phone call.

  When Mason had awakened her this morning with his usual cheer, she'd felt just as happy. It's because both of us are in love with Dylan, she thought as she lifted him out of his crib with a smooch. Every moment they'd spent with him was full of joy, full of laughter.

  And full of love.

  She was tempted, again, to call Dylan so that he would finally know the truth of what was in her heart. But with his race starting today, and the seventeen-hour time difference, she probably wouldn't be able to reach him. Plus, it would be so much better to look into his eyes and hold him close when she told him how much she loved him. That she'd never loved anyone the way she loved him. That he made every day better and better.

  And that right when she thought love had ended, it had only just begun.

  She changed Mason, then brought him out into the kitchen and clipped him into his high chair to feed him breakfast. He mowed through mashed peas, carrots, and a huge handful of Cheerios. When he stopped eating and began to toss the leftover cereal at his stuffed animal in the toy box in the corner of the living room, she quickly cleaned him up with a wet wipe and then let him loose to play.

  Playing that quickly turned into more awe-inspiring walking.

  It took her longer than she expected to finally sit down at her computer to check her email, where she found a message waiting from her editor. Her deadline was still two weeks away, but he wanted to see something soon so that the art department could begin working on the layout of both the article and the cover, for which they would shoot the photos upon Dylan's return from Australia.

  Grace's heart immediately started knocking around in her chest. She'd never been this nervous about something she'd written before, even during the past year and a half when it had been a struggle to get the words down. Writing about Dylan was so personal, so close to her heart, that she wanted it to be perfect. Needed it to be the best thing she'd ever written.

  Dylan had augmented her great research with the best one-on-one interviews a journalist could dream of from her subject
. All of the pieces for this story should have been there. But when she opened up the file again and read through it while Mason banged cars together on the floor, then toddled over them like a baby Godzilla, she couldn't deny that something was still missing.

  She replied to her editor's email to let him know that she would be sending something over very soon, then settled Mason into his bouncy seat in the bathroom and took a quick shower. With Mia's surprise party that afternoon, buying a present for it, and figuring out what to wear, she wouldn't have time to work on her story again until tonight. Considering she'd redone the beginning a dozen times already, it was probably a good thing that she was getting away from her computer for a while so that she didn't butcher the story by rewriting all the life out of it.

  Because if there was one thing that she knew for sure, it was that her story about Dylan Sullivan should be as fun and as full of joy as the man himself. Anything less wouldn't do him--or what he'd accomplished--justice.

  *

  Several hours later, Grace walked onto Tatiana Landon's movie set holding Mason in one arm and a pretty wrapped gift in the other. She'd interviewed actors and actresses before, but no one of Tatiana's caliber. The set was very impressive, the furniture from the 1920s authentic down to the finest detail.

  When Tatiana had told her that she was working on a period film--and that she was more than a little nervous about pulling it off--Grace had marveled at her bravery. Most actresses would likely be happy to stick to what they had proved they were good at. Tatiana, on the other hand, clearly thrived on the challenge of learning a new skill set and reaching outside of what she already knew how to do so well. Ian Sullivan, Grace remembered with a small smile, had been so proud of his fiancee. The way he'd looked at Tatiana with so much love that it stole even Grace's breath still stuck with her. It was the same way Ford had looked at Mia. The same way Rafe had looked at Brooke.

  And the same way, she was finally ready to believe, that Dylan always looked at her.

  "Yay, you're here!" Tatiana rushed over and gave both of them a hug. "Wow, look at how much you've grown since I last saw you," she said to Mason. "What a big boy you are!"