Page 82 of Beautiful Mess

“Yes, Daddy.” Giggling at the growl that rumbles in his chest, I let Conway lead me toward the door while his words from earlier echo in my mind over and over.

I love you, Grace.

How is this real?

Thirty-Five

Conway

“Istill can’t believe you planned a trip to New York.”

Grace sets herverylarge duffle bag on the neatly made king-size bed before lifting the carry-on suitcase she also brought to sit beside it. They’re both the same shade of hot pink, and they each have her monogram embroidered on the front. What she could’ve packed that needed that much luggage is beyond me, especially since we’re only here for three days and two nights. While I, on the other hand, brought everything I needed in a single duffle bag that could easily sit inside her much larger one.

Dropping my bag down on the desk, I saunter over to where she’s standing and bring my hand up to her face, rubbing my thumb along her soft, rosy cheek. Her vibrant green eyes peer up at me as a small, contented smile curls her plush lips. “Well, believe it, baby girl,” I murmur, my gaze drinking in every line, curve, and freckle on her face.

Our flight here was a little after eight, putting us at the airport right around six, yet Grace still somehow managed to look gorgeous when I picked her up bright and early this morning. Clearly color coordinating with her luggage, she’s wearing hot pink joggers with a white t-shirt and a pair of white and pink Nike’s. Her hair is tied back in two braids on either side of her head. They equally make Grace look sweet and sexy, and have me wanting to do filthy things to her while tugging on them. Though, as much as I’d love nothing more than to sink into her tight, dripping cunt right now, it’d throw off the plans I’ve laid out for her today.

But as soon as we’re back in this room later this afternoon, all bets are off. I fully intend to ravage this sexy little body of hers and show her how much I’ve missed tasting, touching, and fucking her these last few weeks. It’s been too damn long.

Dipping my head down, I bring my lips to hers and lick into her eager mouth, kissing her intentionally. Her sweet taste and scent fill my senses as her soft moans reach my ears. Losing myself in Grace has always been easy, but this past week it’s felt even more decadent after not getting to kiss or hold her in any capacity for as long as I did. Since the art fundraiser earlier this week, we’ve barely had a moment to ourselves since Willow came down with a nasty stomach bug the day after. Not wanting to risk Grace getting sick before this trip, we’ve kept contact to video calls and texting only, and it’s been another form of torture.

Especially when she put on a red lingerie set one night and proceeded to give me a strip tease. It was hot as hell, but not being able to touch her after was a cruel and unusual punishment. I’m hoping the skimpy red number is somewhere in all her luggage and I’ll get a live replay this weekend.

But not right now,I remind myself before I end the kiss, knowing if I don’t, we’ll never leave this room.Later.We’ll have plenty of time for dirty fun later. For now… “Ready for your first surprise?” I ask her, my heart thrumming at the dopey way Grace is looking up at me.

Smiling as she bites down on her bottom lip, she nods. “What should I wear?”

“Exactly what you’ve got on.” Flashing her a grin, I slide my hand down her body before slapping her ass enough to illicit a yelp that makes my cock twitch.Later.“We’re going to the spa in the hotel.”

“Really!” Grace squeals and bounces between her feet. “What are we getting there?”

“Wearen’t getting anything,” I drawl as we step into the hall. “Youare, and quit being so damn nosy, woman! Let me surprise you.”

“Ugh, you’re so mean to me.” She rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the way her lip quirks. “I guess I’ll allow it,” she muses, pressing the button for the elevator.

Four hours and a Swedish massage, manicure, pedicure, and one Brazilian blowout later, Grace is practically glowing as we slide into the taxi on our way to the spot I’m taking her for lunch. After she finished at the spa, we went back up to the room so Grace could change her outfit and “make herself presentable”—her words, not mine. She immediately turned music on from her phone as I made us both mimosas before joining her in the bathroom. Watching her apply make-up while dancing and singing along to every song was oddly enjoyable, and if possible, made me fall even more in love with her.

A short while later, the nauseatingly chatty driver drops us off in front of a well raved about Mediterranean spot I picked out. With my hand at the small of her back, we walk into the bustling cafe, and as the hostess leads us to our table in the back corner, Grace glances at me over her shoulder with a flirty smile and glint in her eyes.

“This place is so cute,” Grace gushes as we sit down. Picking up the menu in front of her, she lifts her gaze to meet mine across the candlelit table. “A handful of the lifestyle influencers I follow on social media have posted about coming here. I bet the food is to die for.”

“The food does look good,” I offer as the hostess drops off two glasses of ice water.

The excitement in her tone and the way she’s practically dancing in her seat as she reads over the menu fill me with pride. Truth be told, I’ve never been great at planning things like this. Grand gestures and surprises aren’t really my thing—or at least, they haven’t been in the past.

But with Grace, it’s different. The nervous flutters in my stomach, thinking about the way her stunning green eyes are going to light up when she gets her final surprise tomorrow morning, makes the stress of planning all of this worth it a million times over.

Our server eventually comes to take our order, returning no more than five minutes later with the drinks Grace ordered for us after she politely, yet firmly, told the server not to put in the Cinnamon Maple Whiskey Sour I initially ordered, insisting I needed to try the Autumn Sangria instead. I’ll admit, it’s fucking tasty.

“To be completely honest, this is not a place I’d expect you to pick,” Grace says with a smirk and a quirk of her brow as her foot finds mine under the table. My body heats as she sensually and discretely rubs her foot up and down the side of my ankle, and it’s becoming abundantly clear that I’m going to remain in some sort of state of erection for the remainder of the day. The way my dick is damn near fully hard from an innocent brush against my ankle has me feeling more like a pubescent teenager than the early fifties man I actually am.

Doing my best to ignore the vigorous rush of arousal flooding my system, I huff out a laugh and say, “Well, I may have had some help.”

“I knew it!” Grace chuckles but doesn’t stop with the under-the-table footsie. “I’m not sure how I feel about you being in cahoots with my sisters. That’s gotta be breaking some girl code law.”

Sitting forward, I shrug lazily, a smirk tipped up on my lips. “You should be happy about it, Sin,” I rasp. “After all, it’s only for your benefit.”

Grace’s foot dances higher up my calf as her heavy-lidded gaze locks onto mine, the apples of her cheeks darkening. The touch is featherlight but so damn electric. My aching cock throbs behind the tight confines of my slacks when I notice her pebbled nipples through her blouse. That, plus the hungry look in her eyes and the way she’s biting her lower lip, tells me Grace is as turned on as I am.

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