Page 50 of You Complicate Me

“Oh my God,” she cried, her eyes drifting shut. “Don’t stop! Please don’t stop.”

As if that was even an option at this point.

Her head dropped to his shoulder and her hands clutched desperately at his biceps as she finally—finally—came, screaming his name just like he’d promised she would, her body tightening and pulsing around him. And that’s when he lost control.

If he’d ever really had any with her, that is.

He came harder than he ever had in his life, buried as deep within her as he could get, with her face pressed into his neck, her heart pounding against his, her harsh, rasping breaths a perfect mirror of his own. It was as close to a perfect moment as Nick imagined he’d ever had or would ever have.

Being with Grace, right from the start, had been fun. No matter how complicated their personal and family situations were, being with Grace was easy. But this, this feeling of peace that he felt right now wasn’t something he had any experience with. Being with Grace was like coming home.

Maybe it was that uncharacteristically deep thought, or maybe it was the fact that he was most likely dehydrated, but whatever the reason, that’s when Nick’s legs gave out.

Stumbling, completely spent, he dropped to his knees, dragging Grace down with him. She squealed and clung to him like a sloth, knocking him flat on his back on the hotel carpet.

Shit, he thought, waiting for her to get pissed at him. Talk about a mood-killer.

Then, in typical Grace fashion, she did something that shocked the hell out of him.

She started laughing.

Chapter Twenty-six

The rest of the night went pretty much exactly as Nick had promised. Her naked ass had been on every surface of both their hotel rooms. A few of their neighbors complained to hotel management about the noise, and one of them (*cough*Gage*cough) resorted to banging on the wall and shouting creative, anatomically impossible threats at them in an effort to get them to turn down the volume.

Normally, Grace would be embarrassed by the fact that everyone on their floor knew exactly what they’d been doing all night. (And, yes, they did indeed all know Nick’s name now) But at the moment? She couldn’t care any less if she tried. It seemed that, oh, twenty or so orgasms could wring shame and embarrassment right out of a girl.

And sometime around six in the morning, as she dropped limply onto Nick’s sweaty chest, completely spent, possibly dehydrated, and most likely ruined for all other men, shame was the farthest thing from her mind.

“Holy God,” Grace panted, pressing her forehead into the spot where Nick’s neck met his shoulder, taking a moment to appreciate the masculine scent of his skin, which was also all over every inch of her own body. Every. Inch. “What the hell was all that?”

Nick chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. “That’s what happens when you have days and days of foreplay.”

This was the first time they’d talked all night. Well, actual conversations, at least. Grace didn’t imagine the oh-God-yes-right-there and Jesus-yes-harder-faster exchanges they’d had really counted as conversations. And their time between condom changes had mostly been spent on kissing, gently roving hands, and some really intense eye contact. No one gave sexy eye contact like Nick O’Connor.

Grace shivered. Yep. It was official. She was ruined for all other men.

Nick must’ve mistaken her shiver for a chill, because he reached down, pulled the balled-up comforter off the floor, and draped it over her bare back. The fact that he was considerate, thoughtful, and a sex god was going to be a major problem for her when they both went their separate ways after the wedding.

The thought alone brought tears to Grace’s eyes and she was forced to choke back a sob.

“Hey,” Nick said, shoving his hands into her hair and gently pulling back so that she was forced to lift her head and meet his gaze. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re having regrets already.”

“Regrets?” Who the fuck would ever regret the kind of night they’d just had? “Are you insane? No way. It’s just that…”

He kissed her forehead, which was like an ice pick to her heart. Why the hell did he have to be so damn perfect?

“It’s just that what, angel?” he prompted gently.

“I’m just going to really miss you, is all,” she blurted, horrified that the tears she’d been blinking back now rolled down her cheeks and over her chin before landing in pathetic little puddles on his chest. “When the wedding is over and I go back to LA and you go back to Chicago, I’m really going to miss you, okay?”

His eyes roamed over her face as if her features held the secrets to all of life’s mysteries. When he brushed her tears away with his thumbs, her heart cracked open just a little more. “You don’t have to,” he whispered.

She frowned, confused. “I don’t have to what?”

“Miss me.” He shrugged. The gesture was careless, but the look in his eyes let her know his words were anything but. “I can work from LA just as easily as I can from Chicago. That’s one of the main benefits of the job. My apartment in Chicago is a month-to-month lease, and everything I own can fit into the back of my truck. There’s nothing there that’s really worth going back to, especially since Sadie’s not there anymore.”

Grace blinked down at him. “You’d…you’d consider moving to LA? For me?”

---