6 comments/ 19499 views/ 2 favorites Cross My Heart By: AtFirstSight Kelly leaned her head back against the airplane headrest and closed her eyes. They were going through turbulence again. Over the next ten bumpy minutes she made deals with God. I'll stop biting my nails. I'll call my mother once a week for the rest of her life. I promise to never ask for water and then get pop at a fast-food restaurant again. One of them must have worked because instead of plummeting to the ground she soon saw a patchwork of subdivisions out her window—a telltale sign that they were nearing the Youngstown County Airport. From high above the clouds it looked like nothing had changed. Chances were that nothing had. Funny how the qualities she'd once despised were now the ones she looked forward to. For the past four years Seattle had been home. I have a life there. A solid client base. And good friends. So why in the heck am I coming back here? Months earlier Kelly had started feeling restless. Day trips to Canada, Oregon...they weren't squelching the urge. A week ago while chatting with her brother, she'd announced her plans to visit home. Kurt seemed surprised. Needless to say, Kelly had been too. Until the idea was past her lips it hadn't even crossed her mind. Of course going home—if you could call it that—would fix her problem. All she needed was a reminder of why she had left Youngstown, and then Seattle would regain its splendor. As the plane began its descent Kelly crossed her fingers—this better work. *** "Man, I am so lucky. I forgot all about tonight being me and Beck's anniversary and if my secretary hadn't saved my ass by making some quick dinner reservations I wouldn't be able to walk for the next couple months." Grant frowned, "Becky's not the violent type, buddy. I don't think she would come after your spine with a baseball bat." "No," Kurt agreed, stopping to pose thoughtfully for a second, "But she would banish me to the couch. Which reminds me..." Veering off from the path he'd been making to the bedroom for a tie, Kurt grabbed a pen and paper from the kitchen. He spoke as he wrote. "Buy...new...couch...but consult...Becky...first..." "Wow man, you are seriously whipped." Grant propped his feet on the coffee table, hands behind his head. I'm sure glad I don't have to deal with a woman running my life. Bachelorhood...that's what it's all about. But even as he thought the words, a piece of him wasn't quite convinced. "Yeah, I am, aren't I?" Kurt looked giddy at the realization. With a glance at Grant's feet he motioned for them to return to the floor. Obviously a rule implemented by Kurt's wife. Curse the X chromosome! Grant chuckled at his own joke, and was going to let Kurt in on it when his long-time friend thrust a hand into the doorframe. "Red tie or blue?" "Blue," Grant called out. Heck, if you can't beat them, might as well cooperate. "You know," Kurt began, coming out of the door staring down at his lopsided tie, "It wouldn't hurt you to start looking for someone, you know?" "Whatever," Grant muttered dismissively. With a sigh he stood up and reached over to fix Kurt's tie. "You're so nervous you can't even make a knot in a piece of cheap silk. No offense but that's something I could live without." Done, he took a step back and admired his handy work. He was definitely better off without women. Women wanted romance, stability, and long-term commitments . Grant was only good at the first of the three. There was a time, once...when he'd allowed himself to believe he might be able to find "true happiness." The kind that came with a wife, two-point-five kids, and a mangy mutt that the whole family loves. Kurt clapped Grant on the shoulder, shaking him out of his thoughts. If Grant hadn't already known what was coming, the worried eyes and furrowed brow would've tipped him off right away. "It's been a long time since Olivia, man. Seeing other people helps the healing process." A harsh laugh ripped from Grant's mouth. "I'm pretty sure that one stipulation of me remaining friends with a Shrink was that you never get to psycho-analyze me." He let that sink in before jabbing an accusing finger at Kurt. "And you know damn well that I see other people so don't give me shit about not being over Olivia. We both know that's bull." Hands up in surrender Kurt backed up a couple steps to retrieve his suit coat. "Fine, don't listen to me. But screwing your, quote, lady-friend, twice a week doesn't count. Go find someone you can relate to. Someone you actually like." Grant's retort was on the tip of his tongue when Kurt went rigid. "Damn! Dammit all to hell!" He turned to Grant, eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You wouldn't happen to be free tonight, would you?" "Aw gee, Kurt. You know I like you 'n all, so it's nothin' personal, but..." Grant shrugged innocently, "The last middle-aged guy I let take me out was a prick—just out for the sex." "Eat shit, Hensen." "Now is that any way to talk to someone you need a favor from?" Grant pulled out a nearby barstool and straddled it, elbows resting on the back. "But seriously, what did you have in mind?" "Kelly got into town this afternoon and I told her I'd meet her at Gratzi tonight for dinner. With the whole anniversary mix-up it completely slipped my mind. So, whaddya say...will you go in my place?" That wasn't what Grant was expecting. A whack-job client. Kurt's mother. He could've handled that. Taking a deep breath he met Kurt's gaze. The hope he saw in his friend's eyes made it hard to lie. "Gratzi? That's pretty upscale..." Instead of sounding determined not to go, his excuse came out like a little kid whining about having to take out the trash. Kurt convinced people to do things (like to stop re-arranging items on their desk) for a living. When he saw a window—no matter how small—he was all over it. "I'll pay the tab. You're already dressed perfect with the shirt and tie. And oh, look, you have just enough time to get across town in time to make the reservation." "Kurt...you know I'd do anything for you, but come on, don't you think it might be a tad bit awkward? Last time I talked to Kelly was on graduation day. Not as a family friend. As her senior English teacher." Kurt nodded, obviously not seeing anything wrong with the situation in question. "Yeah, so? You're my best friend. I'm sure you can think of something to say to Kel. If you get stuck, just tell her why you gave her an A-. I know she's always been sore about that." Then Kurt snatched his car keys off the counter and motioned to the door. Reluctantly Grant followed, knowing that he wouldn't back out on dinner with Kelly. How could he when he honestly had nothing else to do? He was already two weeks ahead with lesson plans. Watching another night of reality TV might make him commit suicide. So why not? A nice dinner that he wasn't paying for was worth the awkwardness, right? As they approached the parking lot Kurt headed toward his car, only stopping to throw Grant a thumbs-up before sliding into his car. Well0Grant thought ruefully, dreading the next couple hours, at least one of us will be getting lucky tonight. *** Kelly sipped at the wine she'd ordered. It wasn't her favorite kind. Gratzi didn't even carry that brand. Just another pro for living in Seattle. "Right up there with people knowing how to be punctual," she muttered to herself. She'd been ten minutes early. Kurt was running ten minutes late. Five more minutes and she was calling his cell. The front door opened and Kelly cast a glance over her shoulder. It wasn't Kurt. The man's shoulders were too broad, his hair too dark, and the physique was all wrong. Kelly chuckled to herself remembering her lanky brother during his teenage years. Such a goof. A goof that needed to buy a watch. She tapped out a rhythm with the spoon. Within seconds a shadow fell upon the table and a waiter made a swooping gesture with his arm. "Your dinner companion, Madam. Can I get you something to drink, Sir?" It was him. The man who she'd seen come in. The one who wasn't Kurt. She'd called him Henny as a kid; Mr. Hensen as a high school student. And now her jaw merely went slack at the sight of him sitting down across from her. "Yes please, I'll have what she's having." His tone was light and friendly with the waiter. When the man walked away it was a different story. Shoulders tensed, eyebrows knitted together, and lips tightened into nothing more than a slash on an otherwise gorgeous face. It looked as if he wouldn't talk until it was ski season in Hell, so Kelly took control. She liked being in control. That's why she had left Youngstown in the first place. Too much chaos. "So Kurt, you've sure changed. You and Grant get a face-plant?" His adam's apple bobbed twice, proof that he was at least trying to speak. "Kurt wanted to come, Kelly. However, something came up so I was sent in his place." "Quite a replacement too. Couldn't think of anyone I'd rather be sitting across from, in fact." Her tone was ice cold. "Look," his usually warm brown eyes grew dark. "I don't like the situation any more than you do, okay? That said, do you think we could just be civil? For Kurt's sake?" Kelly had her doubts about whether his request was even possible. Ever since Kurt and Grant became friends back in junior high, Kelly had seen Grant Hensen as competition. Mainly for Kurt's time. Before he came along she and Kurt were inseparable. Together they got threw having a crazy mom and a dad who worked too often. Then she'd gotten dropped for the new boy in town—Grant. All of a sudden making forts in the woods behind their house wasn't "cool." Hanging out with Grant at the baseball field—a boys only zone, apparently—was. Past anger bubbling up, Kelly stuck her tongue out. Even as she did it she knew how childish it must look. A grown woman making a gesture associated with immature kids. But she couldn't help it. It was Grant's fault. "You have got to be kidding me." Tongue in cheek Grant leaned his elbows on the table. "For Christ's sake Kelly. It was an A minus!" An unattractive vain appeared near Grant's temple. "If I'd known how much grief that stupid hyphen would cause me I would have given you your damn A." Her jaw dropped. "You think I'm still angry about that?" "Pftt, obviously!" But his tone isn't quite so harsh. He isn't quite so sure anymore. Then after a silent second that feels almost like a break in the anger that was rising in both of them, he sits back. "I've never done anything else to piss you off." A snide remark was ready to be fired. But the waiter came at the same time Kelly opened her mouth. Grant received his wine and they order. She chooses the chicken alfredo and Grant orders a steak. Much as she'd hoped, he didn't order it rare, but in fact asks for well done. If he ate his steaks rare it would be easier to hate him. That had always pissed Kelly off the most; her inability to truly hate Grant. Sure he took Kurt's attention away from her, and he had given her an A- unfairly. But a part of her had always admired him. Grant was confident, well-liked, and his ambition never ceased to amaze her. The man had a gift for writing. The New York Times accepted his application. Yet he was here in Youngstown teaching twelfth graders Brit. Lit. Amazing. And annoying as hell. Did the man not have a selfish bone in his incredible body? Strike two! He had a good body. And if anything it was better now—at 32—than it had been back when he was 24. Anybody who looked better past thirty deserved to be despised. "I'm waiting, you know?" He had the audacity to grin when she blinked out from thought. "What did I do that was so horrible?" "You stole my brother." She hated how vulnerable she sounded. She'd meant to sound mad so that he would go on the defense. Instead his eyes softened. "What do you mean?" Maybe she'd had too much wine. Maybe secretly she needed someone to talk to and Grant was offering. But most likely there was something in Youngstown's air. Something that made Kelly forget why Grant was the enemy. And all of a sudden everything came tumbling out. *** "I've never been in an airplane." "What?!" The look on Kelly's face made it seem like he'd just said "I keep dead people in my basement." "Never?" Grant shook his head leisurely, amused by how skeptical she was. "But...why?" Pride made him consider fibbing. That, however, would defeat the purpose of their little game. Lying would be lame. Especially since Kelly had laid it all down over dinner. Finally there was a reason for her always being so chilly toward him. At first he'd wanted to deny stealing Kurt. He wanted to point out that they would've drifted apart even if he hadn't been in the picture. But as true as that was, he knew it wasn't the point. From Kelly's point of view he had come between she and Kurt. Sympathy welled up in his chest as he pictured the wounded heart of a little girl. Somehow apologizing didn't seem like enough. So after their meal he'd asked her out for drinks. Completely platonic, of course. Alcohol just felt like the right thing to offer. Besides, Grant enjoyed talking with Kelly. She was intelligent; so full of life. As a twelfth grader she'd been extremely perceptive. The questions she'd ask in class and the content of her essays spoke of an understanding of life that went beyond most her age. Maybe even beyond his own. That, along with the fact that he promised Kurt to show Kelly a good time, was why he hadn't bolted as soon as dinner was over. It had nothing to do with the C-shaped dimple that appeared whenever Kelly smiled. Nor was it the depth in her eyes when they were focused on him. The way they were now. "Is it because of your dad?" Her question hit Grant like a punch to the gut. His father died just before he and his mother moved to Youngstown. People didn't usually ask questions about Michael Hensen. Grant liked it that way. And even though he and Kelly were playing a game somewhere between "Truth" and "I've never...", that didn't mean he would open up about his father. He got control of his emotions and gave a sharp nod before knocking back the last of his beer. "Yeah, that's probably it. Your turn." He watched Kelly swirl her Long Island iced tea in its glass. A couple times she gave him a sidelong glance, seemed to blush, and looked away. "Come on, Kelly, you're the one who wanted to spill secrets to one another. Don't hold back on me now." "Fine." Her light blue eyes focused on something straight ahead. "I had a crush on you." Even though it was dark in the bar, Grant could see a blush take over Kelly's cheeks. It was such a rare occurrence that he had to take full advantage. "This must've been serious if you're turning all red. Tell me, what were our kids' names? Did we have a dog named Max and a cute little house in the suburbs?" If possible she grew an even darker shade of red. And now she looked embarrassed and uncomfortable. Grant didn't want her to feel embarrassed. He didn't think what she confessed was stupid. In fact he was flattered. Sure she'd been a little girl at the time, but that girl had grown to be a remarkable person. "Look, Kel, I was just teasing you. Kids get crushes on their siblings friend's a lot. No big deal." He dipped his head in an attempt to catch her gaze. It worked. But instead of smiling she had a defiant look in her eyes. "I wasn't a kid. Not really anyway. It was mainly senior year." Grant was still picturing Kelly as a senior—popular enough but always a little awkward, her clothing always testing the limits of the dress code—when she continued. "I mean, as a kid I didn't realize what I had was a crush. I just idolized you and Kurt. Then one day Mary Kegel was talking about guys she liked from school. I made a joke about how I would kill for you to look my way. I meant it as a joke, but the more I thought about it the more I realized it was true..." As her spiel came to an end, her confidence started to wane. Since her third Long Island was long gone, Grant made two decisions. One: Kelly had merely had a bout of Dutch Courage, and probably hadn't really wanted him to know about her past crush on him. Two: it was time to get her back to her hotel. Surprisingly she didn't argue when he suggested that they leave. There was no denying the change in Kelly's attitude, though. It was like the past few hours hadn't happened. They were right back to the beginning where she was ready to give him a verbal kick to the balls any time he so much as looked at her. And that's exactly what he wanted to do. He took notice of the choppy shoulder-length blonde hair and her full lower lip. She really was pretty. For some reason the fact that Kelly Lewitt might be attractive had never really crossed his mind. Sure he'd noticed her change from being a scrawny tomboy to an eighteen-year-old woman. At least, he thought he had. Now he wasn't so sure. The only thing he could say for sure was that he knew when he'd gotten back from college she was taller. Wasn't until now that he noticed everything else. The way the material of her black dress clung nicely to her chest; how long her toned legs were; how they would feel wrapped around his naked waist as he slid... Shit, what in the hell am I thinking? She's your best friend's kid sister. An ex-student. God, I'm a friggen' pervert. I need a more active sex-life. Turning into the parking lot of the local Holiday Inn, Grant let out a sigh of relief. All he had to do was get Kelly up to her room. Then he could call up Rachel, go over to her place and release some sexual tension. Once that happened he could stop thinking crazy thoughts. Ones that he would regret later. -- Kelly fast-walked down the hotel's long hallway. She resented the hell out of Grant right now. Hated that he insisted on seeing her to her door. Hated that he hadn't responded to her confession in the bar at all. And mostly she hated the way his arm came out to steady her when she tripped. "I'm fine," she snapped, wishing that he would just go away. Why couldn't he just be irresponsible for once? She slowed when they reached her door. "Look I made it here safe—all in one piece. Satisfied now?" Kelly noticed something different in Grant's gaze. Sometime between getting out of the car and now he had loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. His brown eyes looked at her warmly. "It isn't the way you think, Kel." "What do you mean?" Whoa, was that my voice? It had been breathy, husky...almost seductive. "I never noticed you because of circumstances. Not necessarily because I wouldn't have liked what I saw." His brows knitted together with concern. "Am I making any sense?" He's adorable. "Grant, I didn't tell you that I had a crush on you to make you feel guilty. You were a teacher and I was a student. Frankly I would be a little creeped out if you had lusted after me the way I had you." Grant tipped his head to the side, curious. "What exactly do you mean by you "lusted after me"?" Kelly expected him to be disapproving. Instead she thought she detected a hint of interest. Courage from God only knows where seeped into her veins, and she tried to emulate a cocky smirk. "You know, I would sit in class while we were reading a play and imagine coming in after school for some extra credit. You'd lean in real close over my shoulder. I wouldn't be able to concentrate, and when I turned my head toward you our eyes would meet and you would..." she trailed off, realizing how ridiculous it all sounded. She half-expected Grant to burst out laughing. In reality he was silent. His brown eyes bore into hers. Feeling naked under his gaze, Kelly shuddered. Then, slowly, Grant closed the distance between them and rested his hand on the door behind her—directly above her shoulder. "And then I would what?" Cross My Heart EDITED BY BLACKROSE Eric burst into his apartment causing the front door to slam against and bounce off the wall, and practically threw his briefcase across the room. "Fucking, lying, silicone slut!" he yelled to no one in particular while the door slammed closed. Good thing - no one else was there. He tore off his suit coat and slammed it to the floor. "Stupid bitch can't even sign her own name unless someone shows her how!" His tie flew somewhere across the room; shoes sailing somewhere else. "If she'd use her fucking brain even half as much as she uses that stinking pussy she might be worth something!" He poured himself a drink at his bar and gulped it down in one swallow, then poured another... "But I doubt it...shit!" he yelled as he yanked his shirt open; buttons bouncing across the hardwood floor. The shirt ended up across the bar while his t-shirt landed on the floor behind the bar. He kicked his pants off as he poured himself a third drink then stomped across the room and almost threw himself on his sofa, now down to his underwear, and kicked the coffee table away. Obviously Eric was a tad miffed. At 29 he was a middle manager in his company and was up for a promotion to senior management. Today he learned he'd lost the promotion to a co-worker (A co-worker whom one would think he didn't much care for). He gulped down his third straight drink and almost broke the glass slamming it down on the coffee table. He went to his treadmill and started it up at a full run. Soon the sweat was pouring off his body. "Not one fucking brain cell in that head!" he told himself. "All the bitch did was fuck her way to the top! Fucking cunts always whining about equal rights. If things were equal I should be able to fuck my way to the top, too!" He turned off the treadmill and headed into the bathroom. He stripped off his underwear while he turned the shower on full blast and stepped under the spray. He started soaping himself down, and when he started to soap his dick he thought of Trev. Yeah! That's what he'd do! He'd go see his best fuck buddy, Trev. Trev always made him feel good. Not just for the moment, or just to bend over for him, but to take care of him and calm him down and make him feel good about himself and send his head up in the clouds. Trevor was a year younger than Eric. They'd been best friends since elementary school. They grew up together and discovered together that they were gay, popped each other's cherries, and became fuck buddies 'til the end. One would think they would have ended up in an officially committed relationship but things happen as they usually did. They didn't break up or anything but they ended up going to different colleges after high school. Trevor graduated and came back home while Eric stayed in school to earn his masters, so they were apart for several years. When Eric did come home he and Trevor got jobs in different parts of the city. They lived in a big city and wound up living at opposite ends of it, so going to see each other took a bit of planning and was at least an overnighter. They stayed best friends, and even though they both met and fucked around with other guys they remained loyal fuck buddies. Eric stepped out of the shower, toweled off quickly, stayed naked and went into his bedroom. He dialed Trevor's number and got his voice mail. No surprise there but this time he decided against leaving a message, and chose to just drive on over to Trevor's house with a bottle of wine under his arm, a thong under his jeans, a smile under seductively raised eyebrows, and surprise his buddy. Whether or not Trevor was home wasn't an issue as both had keys to each other's apartments. Eric figured he'd surprise Trevor by lying in his bed wearing just the thong and his smile. During the drive through the city Eric contemplated his situation. The senior partners in his firm were obviously straight as arrows and it was well known around the executive washroom what went on in their offices with their girlfriends after hours. The office Christmas parties were legendary in hushed circles; especially since wives were never in attendance. Once a few years ago someone tried to blow the whistle on the goings on there. That someone now lives in a different city and refuses to talk about it. Everything was legal and all, but all the employees knew who the bosses were and knew better than to try to make waves. That was the wall Eric had to penetrate. He was sure the bitch who got promoted was a token. Someone to break the glass ceiling and be put on display. In an effort to prove that the firm practiced equal opportunity more qualified male applicants were passed over. Eric wasn't the only one passed over but that cunt was the only female in the running, and another mystery was how she even got in the running in the first place. But then maybe it was a mystery only to those who; unlike Eric, didn't work late hours trying to get ahead and heard the noises coming from the top floor offices at night. An hour later Eric parked his car in the lot of Trevor's complex. He let himself in the entrance and buzzed Trevor's apartment. No answer except from Trevor's machine. Eric smiled and went on in and up to the 5th floor. At the door to Trevor's apartment he rang the bell again in case Trevor was there after all. Still no answer so he let himself in. He left his shoes and socks by the door. Then he left his jacket on the floor. A few feet more and his shirt hit the floor. Soon there was a trail of clothes on the floor leading to Trevor's bedroom for him to see when he got home. He'd know it was Eric and that Eric would be waiting for him in the bedroom. But at the door to Trevor's bedroom Eric heard a noise and stopped cold. The door was cracked open and Eric definitely heard a swishing kind of noise coming from the bedroom. 'Oh no!' Eric thought. 'He's got a guy in there! That's why he ignored the buzzer and the bell. He's probably on his back with some guy's cock stuffed up his ass. What the hell do I do now?!?' Eric didn't care that Trevor had some other stud in his bed. They both knew that each other fucked around with different guys and were both cool with it. Hell, sometimes they'd managed a 3 and even a 4 way before, but it was always kind of planned. This time Trevor had no idea Eric was coming over and Eric didn't feel comfortable at all just walking in on them. Eric wondered how long it would take him to tip toe back through the apartment, put his clothes back on, and get the hell out of there. He could go back outside, use his cell phone to call Trevor again, and leave a message that he was in the neighborhood and wanted to come over. Trevor would hear that and either pick up for sure or call him right back; especially to beg a rain check if he wanted to be alone with the guy. But one more thing was nagging at the back of Eric's head - - - - who was the guy? What did he look like? Eric decided to sneak a peek into the bedroom. Should be safe. Unless Trevor re-arranged the furniture all Eric would see would be Trevor's feet up in the air and the guy's butt humping up and down anyway. Knowing that most people who hear a noise at a door will instinctively look toward the height they would expect to see a face, Eric got down on his hands and knees with his face near the floor. When he peeked around the door his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. It was a girl! A girl!!! She had a pair of headphones on, and was dancing around with her back to Eric; her short dress swishing around. Eric almost threw himself out of the way, spun around and wound up sitting with his back up against the wall, his knees practically framing his face, and the cock that was getting hard a moment ago hanging limp out the side of the thong. 'Omigod!' Eric thought. 'It's a girl! He's got a fucking girl in there!' Then his expression changed to reflect his confusion. 'What'd he do that for?' Eric brought his hands up to his face, his eyes wide as saucers, staring at nothing in particular. 'What the hell is going on here?' he asked himself. 'Is Trev bi? No! Trev's not bi. If he was bi, I'd know and I know he's not bi! So what the fuck is he doing with a girl? Is he experimenting? Nah, he wouldn't go that far! I know he didn't go straight. Oh no! What if he joined one of those "We Can Change" brainwashing groups, and they told him to go fuck a girl?' Finally it occurred to Eric that he was sitting on the floor next to his best friend's bedroom, who didn't know he was there, and he was almost naked except for a thong that wasn't covering a damn thing anymore, and there was a girl in his buddy's bedroom. Eric lunged forward and ended up crawling on his hands and knees towards the front door, snatching up articles of clothing along the way. His only thought at that point was just to get the fuck out of there before he got caught. He even had his hand on the door knob before it further occurred to him that he would fare much better out in the hallway if he put his clothes back on before he left the apartment. So he ducked around the corner into the kitchen and kicked his legs into his pants. He stuffed his socks into his pocket and jammed his feet into his shoes. He stuffed his t-shirt into his jacket pocket, all the while glancing in the direction of the bedroom; trying to think of what he could possibly say if one of them walked out of the bedroom and found him. After a second thought he decided to hell with the shirt and just put his jacket on over his bare chest and stuffed his shirt into the other jacket pocket. With one last look towards the bedroom he tip toed very quickly to the door, wrenched it open, almost fell out into the hallway, shut the door behind him, and leaned against the wall gulping in air as if he'd just run a few miles. "Are you allright, sir?" a voice asked. Eric looked to his side to see a couple of women who had stopped several feet away down the hallway and were eying him strangely. They'd obviously seen him explode out of Trevor's door and he couldn't imagine what they must be thinking. Eric nodded at them. "FINE!" he blurted out, "I'm, uh,........I'm fine. Thanks. I'm fine, really." He could only think to keep nodding at them. They glanced at each other. "No no, I'm fine, really I am....thank you....I'm just in a hurry, that's all," he said, and then thought to start walking down the hallway as though he really was in a hurry. When he passed them they both instinctively moved against the far wall while keeping their eyes on him. Finally they both gave him a quick smile and nod, and continued on down the hallway - quickly. Eric kept walking to the elevator and pressed the button. He heard the ladies' keys rattle in their doorway. Then he heard them giggle and rolled his eyes. The elevator doors slid open. The back wall of the elevator was mirrored and suddenly Eric saw what scared the girls. Good thing no one else was in the elevator. He looked at himself in the mirror. His jacket was open showing his bare chest, while his shirt was hanging half out of one of his jacket pockets with his t-shirt sticking out of the other pocket, and his fly was open. 'Awww shit!' he thought. While he was zipping things up and stuffing the rest of other things into his pockets the elevator doors closed again and the elevator went down without him and he had to press the button again. He looked down the hallway at Trevor's door again. 'Shit!', he thought. 'What am I so fucking scared about? Trev's my best friend. Hell, we just had a wild fuck last weekend! If anything was going on he'd tell me. So what if he has a girl in there? He'd just introduce us and give me some kind of signal if he wanted to be alone with her. But why would he want to do that?' So Eric walked back down the hallway. He listened at Trevor's door and heard some dishes rattling in the kitchen. He pushed the button and rang the bell again. "Coming!" he heard Trevor's voice call. 'Good,' he thought. 'Trev will open the door himself.' But when the door opened, Trevor wasn't the one standing there - it was the girl. The first thought that flashed through Eric's head was that the girl looked a lot like Trevor's sister since the resemblance was striking, but it didn't occur to him that Trev's sister was several years older than Trevor and didn't look like this the last time Eric saw her. She looked at Eric and shock swept over her face. "Hi," Eric said quickly. He wondered why she looked upset. "I'm Eric, Trevor's friend. Is he here?" She only stood back while Eric entered. "Hey, Trev!" Eric called into the apartment. "Where are ya, buddy?" The dejected sounding voice came from behind him. "I'm here, Eric." Eric stopped in mid stride. 'Wait,' he thought. 'How'd he get behind me?' He thought maybe Trevor was behind the girl and he just didn't notice him. But when he turned around she was the only one there. "Whaa.....what?" Eric stammered. She shrugged her shoulders and looked down. Then she sighed deeply and said without looking at Eric, "It's me, Eric." Eric only stared. His mouth slowly dropped open as he realized he was talking to his best buddy, who he thought he knew inside and out. She was him! "Omigod!" was all Eric could mutter. "Oh my fucking God!....Trev? Is that really you?" Now Trevor turned his made up eyes to Eric. He just shrugged again. "Yeah, Eric. It's really me. I...I didn't know you were coming." "Yeah," Eric said. "I guess you didn't." Eric didn't look for a chair but just leaned against the wall and slid down it until he was sitting on the floor. He didn't take his eyes off Trevor. "Trev....you're going to a masquerade party.....aren't you?" Trevor looked this way and that as if he was trying to decide something then took a deep breath and looked Eric in the eye. "I was going out, yeah." "But not to a masquerade party," Eric asked without making it a question. "No, not really." "Then where?" Another shrug. "A bar." "A bar!?!" Eric's eyes widened. "A bar?!? You mean you're going out to a drag bar?" "Well, yeah," Trevor said. "That's usually where you go when you dress up in drag." He tried to sound confident - challenging even - but his voice still had a little quiver, his eyes desperately pleading. "I didn't know you were coming, Eric." Suddenly Eric's face broke into a smile. He let his head fall back until it touched the wall. "Wow!" he hollered, then started snickering. Trevor shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable as hell. "Look, Eric..." he stammered, "you weren't supposed to know...I mean....I should have told you, but...." "Heeeeey..." Eric said as he stood up. He walked up to Trevor, cupped his face in both hands and looked him in the eye. "Boyfriend! How could you keep secrets from your best buddy?" That brought a smile to Trevor's face but he still only shrugged. His eyes started to mist over. "I...well I...," a tear rolled down his cheek, "I didn't want you to get pissed and never talk to me again!" he cried. "You were my only friend. The only guy I could talk to, ever!" Now the tears were flowing freely. Eric took Trevor's hand and led him into the living room, sat him down on the sofa and sat down next to him still holding his hand. He reached over and handed Trevor a Kleenex. "Listen to me, babe," he said. "I'm not pissed! At least I'm not pissed that you like to cross dress. I'm a little pissed that you think you can't talk to me and tell me stuff though." Trevor wiped his eyes and blew his nose. He normally had long blonde hair parted in the middle and combed back, but now it was fluffed out and flipped up and was falling in his face. Eric reached over and brushed it out of his eyes. "How long?" he asked Trevor. Trevor sighed again. "Since I was 14," he said simply. Eric almost laughed again. "You're shitin' me!!" he chuckled. "But how did you hide it? We did everything together, Trev! How the hell did you keep something like this from me? When the hell did you find time - shit! We spent all our time together, man!" They sat and talked for a long time. Trevor told Eric about swiping his sister's clothes and underwear from the laundry and playing in them when he was alone. Then later when he was old enough to work he bought some of his own stuff and hid it in the house. He took it to college with him and hooked up with some other cross dressers. He'd take everything to their houses and get made up and dressed up there and go out with them as a girl. Sometimes he would spend whole weekends with them, and they all stayed dressed up and lived as women. After college he came back home and would still dress up and go out to drag bars. He had one set of friends as a guy and a whole other set of friends as a girl. Very few guys regularly hung out in drag bars, and very few queens regularly hung out at regular gay bars, so the two groups' paths rarely crossed. Until tonight that is. Since they were both best friends the talk got more and more comfortable, and soon Trevor was sitting wrapped up in Eric's arms and they were both laughing at some of Trevor's stories about his antics as a girl. He let Eric get a close look at his false eyelashes and told him how he learned to fix his hair. He let Eric feel his "breasts" and told him how he did himself up. Eric had some good laughs and made sure he kept calling Trevor "boyfriend" to keep him relaxed. He ran his hand up and down Trevor's leg and felt his stockings and commented on his shoes. "You know something?" Eric asked. "What?" "You're actually.........pretty." Trevor smiled and looked at him. "You mean it?" he asked in a tiny voice. "Yeah....I do," Eric answered. "I do. You really are pretty, Trev." "So you're really not pissed?" Trevor asked hopefully. "Oh hell no!" Eric laughed. "Why should I be pissed, babe? Confused a little. Shocked, bewildered, dazed and amazed maybe, but no way I'm pissed! Don't worry about that! Hey," he said and leaned in so his mouth was right at Trevor's ear, "does this seem like I'm pissed?" he asked softly and slid his hand up Trevor's thigh and up under his dress. He clamped his hand around Trevor's cock inside his panties and squeezed. Trevor sucked in a breath.....and Eric laughed. "What's so fucking funny?" Trevor asked, mock anger in his voice. "Oh, sorry," Eric laughed. "Well, number one - - I never thought I'd ever slide my hand up a dress, any dress, and number two - - I never thought I'd slide my hand up a dress...and find a cock up there!" Trevor was obviously relieved as they both fell against each other laughing. Eric kept his hand up Trevor's dress and Trevor slid his hand between Eric's legs and found a hard bulge to play with. Trevor started to lean into Eric, his mouth opening. Eric quickly brought his other hand up to Trevor and stopped him. "Just do me one favor, babe?" he asked "What's that?" Trevor asked. "Don't smear lipstick all over me?" Eric snickered, then put his hand on the back of Trevor's head, pulled him close and kissed him. They kissed and made out for a long time, their hands between each other's legs, their cocks getting harder and harder. Trevor unzipped Eric's pants and reached inside. Eric reached inside Trevor's panties and both cocks were getting jacked. Their lips stayed together and Eric kicked his shoes off and heard Trevor do the same. Trevor broke away and got on his knees in front of Eric. He grabbed Eric's pants and pulled them down and off. Eric pulled his thong down and his cock flopped up and slapped against his belly. Trevor pulled the thong off and pushed Eric's legs apart. Trevor flicked his hair off his face then leaned over and swallowed Eric's cock and started giving him the best blow job Eric could remember. Eric went nuts watching Trevor sucking his cock, watching Trevor's jewelry sparkle and flash and rattle together - his hair flowing like it never did before as Trevor sucked his cock and kissed his balls and licked his shaft and tongued his slit and sucked it all down over and over again until Eric was moaning and bucking his hips and fucking Trevor's face. Cross My Heart Ch. 02 Sunlight shone through the cheap Holiday Inn curtains, splashing waves of gold across the mess of tangled sheets that had once resembled a bed. Kelly felt a smile tugging at her lips as soon as sleep began to lift. The previous night, and into early morning, had been amazing. Every inch of her body was deeply satisfied in a way she never knew was possible. Grant Hensen was not like the other men she'd been with. He'd taken her with a kind of intense passion that you could drown in. After the first time, they had collapsed against one another; breath and sweat mingling while their hearts still raced. That was the end of it. Or so she'd thought. Explosive could've summed up their first time. That's what Kelly was used to. Fifteen minutes of her partner working to get his rocks off—not caring if she had hers. Even through the lust and alcohol-induced haze Kelly had been a little disappointed. For all the build-up, Grant was just like all the others. Just so happened that she was able to get off before he did. But that was before—before Grant had tasted every inch of her body. Heat rose in her cheeks as she recalled the spot he'd paid the most attention to. Kelly used to have mixed feelings about oral sex. Sure it felt good, but most of the time her boyfriend's seemed to view it as more of a chore than something they really wanted to do. Not Grant. He'd treated her as if she was some delicious piece of dessert that he was intent on making last as long as possible. Even after that lengthy performance he'd been in no hurry. Kelly now had a huge respect for slow lovemaking. Closing her eyes, she gripped the bed sheet, remembering every detail. Grant moving above her. All she could see was his lightly freckled shoulder and a perfectly shaped sideburn. But she felt his warm breath against her neck. His short fingernails bit lightly into her hips. The muscles of his back flexed as he maintained the slow advance and retreat rhythm that was driving her insane. She'd already climaxed once since he began. And now she was climbing toward another. Moving her hands down to Grant's well-shaped butt she urged him on. Deeper. Faster. Her hips rose in time with his quickening strokes. She loved the way he filled her. Every time he retreated she was left feeling like an important part of her was gone. Of course that was ridiculous. It was just sex. No emotional ties. That in mind, Kelly concentrated on the zings of pure pleasure that started at her center and radiated through her entire body every time Grant's pelvic bone came in contact with her clit. Breath coming in short bursts; she arched her back as the orgasm consumed her. As if her climax was what he'd been waiting for, Grant immediately stiffened, the muscles under Kelly's fingers trembling as he came with a masculine growl. He collapsed against her, the weight oddly comfortable. Slowly she let her legs unwind from his trim waist. "Jesus," Grant whispered almost to himself, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Seconds later he rolled off her and went into the bathroom. Once he reappeared, he slid into bed and lay on his back, holding her against his side. Neither said another word. Strangely it wasn't awkward. Instead, Kelly found listening to the steady beating of Grant's heart until she slipped into sleep to be one of the most natural things she'd ever done. Fully aroused from the vivid images floating through her mind, Kelly slipped out of bed and headed toward the small hotel bathroom. The mirror was foggy. With the poor lighting Kelly could just barely make out Grant's figure. He stood, hands braced on the tile wall, his head bent forward. Kelly's mind filled in what she couldn't see. Water making zigzagged paths down his broad back; the streams curving when they got to his ass. God that man has a good ass. She wondered if there would be marks left on it from the night before when she'd pulled him as deeply as possible. Her nipples hardened despite the air being far from cool. Without giving it a second thought she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped in. Grant didn't seem to notice. For a moment she was content to merely watch what she had previously only been able to imagine. The showerhead sent water cascading over Grant's shoulders. Unable to look but not touch any longer, Kelly leaned up against Grant's back, her breasts flattening at the base of his shoulder blades. At contact Grant startled, turning quick. Their eyes met. Then his gaze dropped. Almost instantly he seemed to catch himself, and he adverted his eyes, a light flush staining his cheeks. Kelly grinned, completely taken by his reaction. Was there any other man who would blush at the sight of a woman naked after having sex with her? Probably not. Closing the distance he'd put between them Kelly turned Grant's chin and leaned up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Morning Stranger." "Hi," Grant managed. He was overwhelmed. Having been single for a few years, Grant was used to one-night stands. They weren't his first choice, but hey, a man had needs. What he wasn't used to was staying the night with women. Even with Rachel, who he was with at least once a week, he didn't spend the night. There was something intimate about actually sleeping with someone. Still, had that been the only kink in the situation, he could've handled it. But there was more. There was the fact that this wet, naked woman standing in the shower with him was Kurt's sister. Part of him didn't think it mattered. Hell, she was an adult, right? Welp, adults have meaningless sex sometimes. That's what last night had been, right? Right, Grant assured himself. Granted it had been really great sex. But meaningless nonetheless. And besides, she wanted it. Grant winced at the thought. If the woman soaping up his chest knew what he was thinking...I'm a bastard. I'm the adult here. I should've stopped anything from happening—no matter how hard it would've been. Hell, she's practically a baby. And just as that thought entered his mind Kelly's hand closed around his manhood. For obvious reasons, the realization that the woman stroking his dick had once called him four-eyes wasn't the biggest turn-on. With a gentle hand he guided her hand away from his groin. "Kel..." Her light blue eyes searched his. As hard as it was, he didn't want to lead her on any more than he already had. "We can't do this..." Grant watched her kiss-swollen lips curve into a devilish grin. "You didn't complain last night." "No. I didn't," he admitted, feeling like a complete heel. "But I should have." The amused glint in her eye vanished. With a short nod she stepped from the shower, shrugged on a robe, and shut the door behind her. Instinct told him to go after her. Experience knew to give her time. Leaping out and rushing to explain would only give her hope. Hope that he could be persuaded into making the previous night repeat. And that wouldn't—couldn't—happen. Ever again. -- His hair was dry, the clothes he'd worn last night back in place, but Grant hadn't left the bathroom yet. Why? He was scared. If Kelly was angry, things could get ugly. Kurt hadn't mentioned how long she planned on staying in town, but if it was for any length of time, things could be awkward. But you could only hide out for so long before it bordered on pathetic. One thing Grant had always prided himself on was that he was a stand-up kind of guy. That's how his father had raised him. And he'd be damned if he let a cute blonde be his kryptonite. He sucked in a breath and opened the door. To his surprise Kelly wasn't pouting on the bed or glaring in his direction. She was perched on the windowsill reading the morning paper. "'Bout time you came out." She didn't even bother to tear her eyes from the paper. "Scared that I was going to be all emotional, I bet." Her perception threw him. For a moment he forgot what he wanted to say. "Yeah, I guess I was." At his words she set down the paper. There was no emotion in her gaze when it met his at first, but then the corner of her mouth rose up, her half-smile endearing. "Think we could just forget about last night?" His dick begged him to say no. "Yeah, sure." "Great!" Kelly went to the mirror and checked her reflection, fussing with her hair a bit. She already looks amazing. Which is ridiculous considering how little sleep she got last night. "After all, it was just the drinks, I'm sure. No sense in letting a quick roll in the sack ruin our relationship." "Absolutely." Grant now knew that it was possible to speak on topic while your brain was 50 light-years away. A quick roll? Not only did I screw her...I did a poor job of it? When you have the best sex of your life and your partner calls it "a quick roll in the sack", that's not a good sign. Maybe Kurt was right about Rachel not counting. A hand landed on his arm. At the contact he thought he saw some emotion flit over Kelly's face, but it was gone a second later. And so was her hand. "Well good. I have some errands to run now, so I have to go. You can stay for a while if you're not rea—" Realizing he was receiving pity, Grant stood straighter. Since when did he become the one getting "dumped?" "No," he interrupted, reaching for his coat. "I'll go now." Two steps closer to the door he turned, "And Kel? Thanks for being rational about all this. I hope you have a nice stay." * * * Kelly burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the spacious library. "He said what?!" Becky, bless her soul, didn't seem to understand what was funny. "He said that when he holds me he feels like he's come home." Wiping her eyes to keep the mascara from running, Kelly regained her breath. "Oo that is too great. Who knew Kurt was such a poet?" Becky paid attention to the books she was checking in. "I thought it was sweet." Her friend's hurt tone wasn't lost on her. And even though they were sisters, Becky and Kelly were best friends. Maybe she had rained a little too hard on Becky's parade... "Hey," she took the book from Becky's hands, forcing her attention to shift, "I didn't mean to sound like a jerk. It's just funny because it's my older brother. But if a guy said that to me I would think it was sweet, too. I'm probably just jealous." Sympathy washed over Becky's face and Kelly instantly felt uneasy. "Oh, Kelly, don't worry, Hun. I know it looks hopeless right now, but you'll find a guy one day." Wait..what?! Becky continued, "You're too special to be alone forever." "In fact! Oh, I know just the guy you should date. I'll give him a call and see if he's still single." Is she serious? I'm not that pathetic...am I? Needing time to restore her ego, Kelly decided to slip away. She ran a hand through her hair, moving toward the hallway, "I'm gonna go walk around, okay? Maybe see some old teachers and say hi." "Okay," she said flippantly. Becky's focus was once again on her job. For a second, anyway. "Oh! Grant is in room 312." Kelly froze mid-step. Her train of thought derailed. Every nerve in her body stood at attention. And a warm zing shot straight to her core. But she ignored that last reaction. "W-why would I go see Grant?" Crap, / sounded guilty. Good thing Beck wasn't paying full attention. Chances were she missed it completely. "It's just that Kurt told me how Grant agreed to meet you for dinner last minute. That was so nice of him, don't you think? You should thank him." "I said "thank you" last night—in multiple positions," Kelly muttered to herself. "What?" "I said you're absolutely right!" ---- On her third day back in Youngstown, Kelly found herself getting ready for a blind date. Feeling somewhat pathetic, she told herself once more that the only reason she was going was because Becky had been so sure that Tom would be a perfect match. Well, just because your best friends with someone doesn't mean they can pick out the perfect man. That fact was painfully obvious. Kelly glanced across the center console at the man sitting behind the wheel. The one who was still rambling on about bird watching. She hadn't been listening since his story about when he finally spotted the elusive black Finch. Earlier when he had asked her if she was into birds, she'd said yes because she thought he was joking. Kind of like asking if she was into watching paint dry. Who would've thought that he was 100% serious? It now seemed obvious why the poor guy wasn't getting anywhere when it came to women. Becky said that Tom was just shy. Since when did shy mean extremely boring? "Know what I mean?" Uh oh. What was he last talking about?? Clueless, Kelly rubbed at her temple, trying to fight off the oncoming headache. "Could you repeat that?" Tom's face fell, making him look a bit like a mouse. What with his upturned nose and round slightly-too-small eyes. The only thing that saved him from looking mousy all the time was his wide-set mouth. But when he pursed it, well...that just made Kelly want to shove a piece of cheese at him. Then, just as quickly as he'd appeared disappointed, he bounced back with a big Crest smile. "Oooh, you're a funny girl, huh?" He nudged her with his elbow twice. "I knew you'd been listening to me. Something about your eyes, I think. In fact, you have really exquisite eyes. Has anyone ever told you that?" Kelly couldn't help but smile. "No, I can't say that they have." But I wouldn't mind if you said it again. "Oh, well you do," he nodded. "I bet you'd be really good at locating birds." Kelly fought to keep her groan from being audible. How could a guy give you a compliment and then ruin it completely by reminding you about his strange feather fetish? As they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant Kelly couldn't help but hope that the rest of the evening went by quickly. * * * Grant took a sip of wine and swished it around his mouth, wishing that he had something stronger. Too bad getting drunk on a first date wasn't appropriate. Maybe he could pretend to have gotten a call while she was in the bathroom. A family emergency. That would do the trick. But a gentleman would reschedule a date after that. And as boring as this woman, Paula, was, Grant couldn't justify being rude. She was an ex-patient of Kurt's. Kurt had mentioned her a long time ago—right when she'd gone to him to help get over her cheating ex-husband—but Grant was adamant that he wouldn't date any of Kurt's current patients. Conflict of interests, he'd said. Besides, who knew what would come up in a session about him? The last thing he needed was Paula bringing up something wildly inappropriate—like intimate details about their sex life—to Kurt. Not that there will be intimate details. There was no chemistry between the two of them. And although Paula seemed like a genuinely nice person, she wasn't Grant's type. Unlike the blonde who just walked in, Grant thought, a wave of lust washing over him. He craned his head a bit to see more of the faceless woman, but she was hidden behind the guy she'd come with. Come on dude, move a little...thaaat's it, yeah, little mor— "I'm back!" Paula announced, flopping back into her chair at exactly the wrong moment. Grant shifted his gaze back in the right direction and attempted a sincere smile. With a sigh, Paula placed her chin in her hand. "I apologize if I'm acting a little flaky. I'm a tad nervous. You know, getting back into the dating scene and everything. I haven't done this in almost a decade!" Really? I couldn't tell. Grant humored himself. To her he just nodded, "You're doing just fine. Believe me; I'm having a great time." She blushed at that, and Grant had to admit that she was pretty. In a motherly, I'll-have-dinner-on-the-table-promptly-at-six sort of way. Not exactly what he was into, though. He preferred a woman who looked equally as good in a cocktail dress as she did in nothing at all. Someone who could consume him with just a touch of her hands. A picture began to form in Grant's mind. Bright blue eyes, blonde hair that barely reached her shoulders...wait, is that..."Kel?" The woman. The one he'd ogled earlier. She was standing at the next table over. And she was Kelly. Someone up there hates me, he mused. "Grant!" She tried to appear nonchalant but her voice had revealed her shock. And something else. Maybe a hint of pleasure? "You know him?" Grant lifted a brow. Who did Kelly's date think he was? He'd referred to Grant in the same tone that someone would use to talk about a rare flesh-eating disease. "Yes she knows me. We go way back, in fact." Now the lanky man turned his disproving gaze toward Kelly, who was shooting her own heated gaze at Grant. And it wasn't a good heat, either. "I do know him. Tim, meet Grant Hensen...my old high school English teacher." She smiled, snaking a delicate arm around Tim's waist. Grant wondered if her face would break from such a fake smile. Paula chose then as the time to jump in. "Oh this is so great! What a coincidence. You two have to sit with us, it would be so fun!" Both men blanched. Only Kelly, who looked positively green, was able to find her voice. "Oh we couldn't impose. I'm sure you two want to be alone." Seeing his chance to make Kelly jealous, Grant smiled a wolfish smile and was about to nod when Paula piped up, "Nonsense! In fact..." her voice became a whisper, as if she were divulging a huge secret, "It's actually our first date." You could've heard a pin drop. Nobody knew how to proceed. Nobody except the maître d', who looked quite irritated. "Shall vee get two more chairs for zee lovely lady and her date?" Cross My Heart His aftershave was intoxicating. It was a little woodsy, and mixed with his fresh soap smell it was perfect. Swallowing hard she had to tip her head back. Gosh he's tall..."And then you would kiss me." No sooner did the words leave her mouth than Grant's mouth was on hers. He kissed her once, softly, just a fleeting brush of his lips. At his retreat she let out a disappointed mew. Before she could be embarrassed, Grant inched closer to her, running the back of his fingers along her jaw. When he reached her chin, he leaned forward once more, pausing when they were only a whisper apart, "Are you drunk?" "No." Of course, she was a little tipsy. But not so much so that she didn't know exactly what was going on. She definitely knew. He nodded, crushing his mouth to hers. This time there was no hesitation. Just a firm pressure that was somehow demanding and gentle at the same time. Kelly's mind reeled. She'd hoped for she and Grant to be in this exact situation for so long. Now that it was really happening she stood frozen—not knowing what to do next. Then his tongue grazed the seam of her lips, coaxing them to part, and she stopped thinking. Feeling, she decided, was more important. Passion erupted. Grant slanted his mouth over hers and their tongues grappled for room. Lancing off one another, trying to get further...feel more. When his gently circled hers and sucked, Kelly's breath caught. "Oh!" That one syllable was enough. Grant broke contact, his warm hand falling away from her face. But just as he began to move away, her fingers curled into the soft cotton of his shirt. Any logical protest he was about to spout about why they shouldn't be together was forgotten when she leaned up to nip at his lower lip. He let out a low groan and in seconds had her pressed against him. Kelly smiled amid their current kiss, feeling triumphant. She leaned back against the door, pulling Grant with her, one of his thighs coming to rest between her legs, pressing up against her intimately. -- A kind of desire that Grant had never known hummed throughout his entire body—stronger in some places than in others. Never before had he felt such a need to consume someone. She tasted sweet. Too sweet. The kind of sweetness that bordered on being dangerous. Dangerous to his sanity. Not to mention his relationship with Kurt. Warning bells went off in Grant's mind. Mayday, mayday, we've got a code 134...that's right, you're about to fornicate with your best friend's sister. His conscience nagged at him to at least give rationality a try. Tearing his lips from Kelly's, Grant opened his eyes and nearly lost it. Chest heaving, lips rimmed with whisker burn, she was mimicking a very sexual rhythm against his upper leg. Bottom line—Kelly Lewitt was practically in heat and it was him who was making her lose control. The primal part of him felt pleased. "This is crazy," he muttered, as he bent to taste the column of her neck. A disapproving sound caught Grant's attention. Hmm..I guess not all women like being kissed on the neck...he mused, bringing his head up. Only Kelly didn't look unpleased. She looked completely mortified. A quick look over his shoulder told him why. Glaring at them were a middle-aged couple—one of whom had their hand over their young child's eyes. Dammit. He was paralyzed. What in God's name was he doing? Two more minutes and there's no telling what they might've done. Right in the middle of the hallway. Lust, Grant grimaced, was bad. He needed to be the practical one. They couldn't go any further than they already had. He opened his mouth to say all of this. But then Kelly yanked him into the small hotel room. And then her hands began tugging his shirt from his chinos. And the next thing Grant knew, he was screwing the hell out of her.