Grace (The Family Simon 5)

She’d turned in her sleep, and her face was inches from his, that cute little nose scrunched a bit, her forehead furrowed. Maybe she was dreaming, or maybe her mind was already racing ahead, but whatever it was, with her hair a wild halo, and her mouth slightly parted, she was without a doubt, the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

And she was fully clothed. Imagine that.

He eased himself back an inch or two for a couple of reasons. One, he could see her better. And two, he had a hard-on that wouldn’t quit and any relief he could garner was welcome. It was torture being this close to her—being this horny—and not being inside her.

She inhaled sharply and he froze, smiling a bit as she began to mumble. Again. The girl talked in her sleep. Constantly. And though he tried, he couldn’t understand a word, or at least anything that made sense. What the hell did an appendix have to do with anything?

So for the next twenty minutes or so Grace mumbled, moving restlessly against the pillows—occasionally getting too close and making him shudder at her touch. He watched her, tracing the lines of her cheek, the dip at her neck, and the shape of her mouth, with his eyes.

Damn, that mouth.

He leaned a little closer, thought maybe he’d steal a kiss, but her eyes fluttered open and he froze as her gaze settled on him. Luminous and still full of sleep, he felt those eyes like a physical touch and as she slowly became aware, he saw the questions that lingered in their depths.

Yet he didn’t speak. He couldn’t. And long moments ticked by—long moments filled with nothing but their breathing, and the pounding of their hearts.

Her lids lowered a bit and she whispered, voice a little hoarse, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he managed to say.

She blew out a soft breath and glanced back up at him. Were her eyes always this shade of blue? They reminded him of the deepest end of the swimming hole out near the lake he used to visit when he was a kid.

What was it about this woman that made him think of the past? A past he’d been running from for years?

“When did you…” She bit her lip and hesitated. “Come…here?”

“Late.”

Her eyes fell from his mouth, down to his chest, and paused near his navel, where the covers rode dangerously low.

She moved her knee slightly but paused. And he held his breath because she was getting a little too close to things that were going to take on a life of their own if he didn’t get his shit under control. Her eyes widened and shot back up to his.

There it was. That cute blush of pink in her cheeks he could stare at for longer than he cared to admit.

“I’m naked.”

She recovered, that gorgeous chin of hers jutting out a bit. “I see that.”

Feeling lighter than he had in ages—and that was something considering all the Jack he’d ingested the night before—Matt inched closer to her and smiled. “We have a bit of a problem.”

“Oh?” Her tongue darted out, and her breaths quickened.

“You’re not.”

He watched her tongue sweep across her bottom lip. Felt the warmth of her breaths as they fell across his cheek, and when her eyes caught at his again—when the deep blue of them made him feel as if he were drowning—he realized he’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted this one.

It was more than sex. Damn, but he wasn’t expecting that.

“Are you okay?” Grace asked, hesitantly.

Was he?

Filled with the urge to act and not speak anymore, Matt sank his hands into all that shiny hair. He pressed his mouth over hers and moved her back onto the pillows. He pulled his body on top of hers and kissed her like no tomorrow. He kissed her until his head spun and he was out of breath. Until she whimpered beneath him, making little sounds that were enough to drive any man insane.

And for the record, Matt Hawkins was already halfway there.

“I need to feel you,” he whispered feverishly, pulling back and reaching for her top. She didn’t say a word. She just watched him with those big eyes of hers. When he pulled her top over her head and threw it to the floor, she already had the clasp at the front of her bra undone.

The flimsy piece of lace followed her top over the side of her bed. She bucked her hips slightly, and Matt sat back on his knees, uncaring that his erection was front and center. He ripped off her panties…and then she was laid bare to him.