Block (Social Media 3)

“Because I’m scared. It’s so much easier to want things than it is to have things. Because having things means you have to keep things.”

It’s my turn to sigh now. “That’s true. The more you have, the more you have to lose.”

“Exactly.”

“You have to take that risk, though, Grace. What good is living if you have no real joy?”

“I like to experience my joy from afar.”

“Don’t be stupid,” I chastise her. “That’s not living. I’m here, right now. You’re here. I want this. I want you. And all you have to do is say yes and we’re together.”

“We’re together how? I’m your whore you fly in to see in Denver whenever you feel like it? You never called me again after last time. Why would I trust you this time?” She makes to get up but I hold her steady.

“Grace, I have a very good reason for that and I’ll be happy to explain everything, but not tonight. It’s too much for tonight and we’ve been drinking. That is a sober conversation if ever there was one. Tonight, just let me take care of you. Let me make love to you.”

“If I let you do that”—my heart skips at the possibility that she will give in—“then what happens if you disappoint me again?” She opens her eyes and stares me in the face. “I can’t take it, Vaughn. That’s why I push people away. I’ve lost a lot in my life and I can’t go through that again.”

I know she lost her parents, but the revelations from Felicity make me question everything. There’s something very wrong with my Grace’s childhood. Something very, very wrong. We need to have that conversation soon, but not tonight. Tonight I just want to make her happy. “I won’t f**k it up, Grace. I swear.” She shakes her head just as the door chimes. “I swear, just settle down for one night. Enjoy yourself.” I lift her up off my lap and he sets herself back against the couch cushions.

“Just trust me now, please.” I get up and walk over to the door to let the servers in. A team of six bustles past me with carts piled with silver trays and they proceed to set the table with linens and silverware. Grace takes it all in. She says nothing, but her eyes dart all over the place, not missing a thing.

A few minutes later the team of servers leave and I close the door and turn back to her. She walks over to the table and stops in front of it and looks down at the large sheepskin rug. Then she slips her shoes off and steps forward, digging her toes into the plush pelt.

“There’s two place settings,” she says, her focus on her feet.

“One for me and one for you.”

She looks up. “Then why the rug?”

“It’s just an option.”

She sinks to her knees and then lies down on it. I walk over to her and sit in the chair. “Why are you on the floor, Grace?”

“Because I’m tired, Vaughn. I’m exhausted. And it feels good. I just want to lie here and do nothing.”

I kneel down next to her and turn her a little so I can unzip her dress. She doesn’t protest, so I lift up her arm and slip it through the sleeve. I repeat this for the other arm, and then I pull it down to expose her black bra. “Lift your hips for me, sweets.” She does and I pull the dress down her legs, then past her feet. I fold it nicely and place it over the back of a chair.

“It feels so good,” she says, her fingertips threading through the soft fur.

My hands press against her calves and then I slide them up her legs and loop my fingers around her panties. “Not commando today?”

She smiles but her eyes are closed.

I pull them down her thighs, exposing her sweet pu**y. It makes my dick so hard, I can barely think. I spread her legs and lick her inner thigh. She moans and her hands automatically come to my head, pressing me into her slick sex. I lap at her clit, then suck as I finger her softly.

“Why do you feel so good?” she whispers. “Why do I want you so bad?”

I lick her again, and then I push her legs up, bringing her knees up on either side of her head, and I probe the soft bud of her ass for a second before dragging my tongue up her crease. She wriggles and moans, so I stop. “We’re going to eat first.” I pull her up so she’s sitting, then reach behind her and unclasp her bra, letting her full br**sts fall free. I palm one, squeezing, but not too hard. It’s a time to be gentle. There’s time for other stuff later.

“Do you want to sit at my feet or in a chair?” I stand up and take off my coat. She watches me and this makes me very hard. I drape my jacket over the chair, on top of her dress, and then I pull my shirt out of my pants and begin unbuttoning it from the bottom up. Her eyes never leave my fingers.

I remove my tie and shirt and place them on top of my jacket.

When I turn back to Grace, she’s got her fingers between her legs. “I’m dying for you, Vaughn. I hate you and I’m dying for you. Why do you make me feel this way?”

I squat down and cup her face with my hands. “Because you like me, Grace. You like me and I like you. We’re in like.”

“We can’t be in like,” she whispers back. “Like should not be filled with so much discord and fighting.”

“Like is passion. And what we have, Grace, is not discord. It’s passion. There’s a difference.” I watch her as she thinks about that. “I’d like you to sit on my lap. Will you sit in my lap for dinner? And if you get too tired you can sit at my feet and fall asleep with your head on my thigh. Your hot breath against my cock.”