by Nicole Snow
Shit, they’re perked, fully puckered at my touch, ready to leave me delirious.
“I’m trying to be serious.” She drops her arms. “Stop that!”
“Why?”
“Because I have to figure out a dress to wear.” She shoots me a look and rolls those beautiful eyes.
Oh, hell. A man could fall in love with that shit.
“Not this one,” I tell her, pushing the black material off her shoulders. “Your tits are for my eyes only. Nobody else gets a peek.”
That gets another flushed smile out of her before the dress pools around her feet, exposing every sweet inch of what’s mine.
“Bossy much?” she whines, still looking at me with eyes that invite me to do whatever I want.
“You know you love it.” Sliding a hand between her legs, I lean in and whisper, “About as much as I love this pussy.”
“Oh?” She shifts her stance, spreading her legs to give my hand ample room. “How much is that?”
We’re really gonna do this? I wonder.
Not that I’m complaining.
I’m game to show her any waking second.
Her head tips back slightly and a moan slips out of her, my fingers already in her, working pleasure out of her silk.
I kiss her neck, grazing my stubble across her skin.
Her shoulder gets my teeth, a quick little nip that makes her shudder.
Then I move to her tit, strumming my fingers deeper inside her, searching for the spot that’s sure to bring her down at the knees.
“You really want me to show you, Grace? Be careful what you’re asking.”
“I’m not asking.” A devilish moan slips out of her. “And you already are.”
Guilty as charged.
Nudging her to the nearby chair, I grab the back of her neck softly and pull those hot, wet lips to mine.
Fuck.
If I keel right over, I want Died Heroically Taming Grace Sellers on my fucking epitaph.
The only thing hotter than her mouth has to be her slick heat tightening on my hand. I love how she moves, how she twitches, how she gives herself away so sweetly.
These hands have all the encouragement they need to take the hell over, and they do.
A shrill noise pushes out of her just as my thumb rakes over her clit. She falls back against me, skin even hotter than her breath, so sultry I swear she’ll ignite my clothes.
“You starting to understand, darlin’? To see how much I love show and tell?”
Her pussy tightens again as my fingers slow to a teasing rhythm.
She shakes her head fiercely, reaching down to grab my wrist, digging her little nails in. She wants me to finish her bad.
“Not yet. Still a lot to show you...like how bad I’ve been dying to eat you up all day,” I snarl, batting her hand away and hoisting her up.
Her legs tremble.
She gasps.
And then I lead her right to the bed.
“Sit down and open your legs.”
The instant she’s planted, legs draped over the bed, I kneel down with a picture-perfect view of her pink.
“Relax,” I say, pulling her hips forward so those sweet folds catch my breath.
She shudders as my nostrils flare, breathing her in, intoxicating myself on Grace’s scent of sex, want, need.
I barely feel human. The beast inside me wakes up, pushes a growl up my throat, and then I’m face-deep in her divine cunt, taking her hard with my tongue.
She loses it in barely a minute.
It’s a fight to hold her legs apart, urging her on with deep, hungry strokes, moving her hips against my face. I make her ride me, make her work for it, but she’s so spooled up and responsive her body gives it up to me in record time.
I tongue-lash her pussy right through the first release and start on her second, sparing no time, no mercy.
Her nails dig at the back of my neck. If she wants to scratch me up raw, I’ll let her.
Because I’m so damn deep in beast-mode that I don’t think a striking meteor could pull me away from making her come again, biting down on her fist as she does.
It’s cute that she still tries to muffle the sound.
I amp up her volume, pulling it out of her, sucking her clit in mad circles that leave her thighs twitching around my face. Greedy, I keep at it, sucking through every spasm, every tremor until she’s limp, red-faced and panting.
Fuck.
My cock rages against my jeans, loving and hating every red second I go down on her because it’s jealous that it doesn’t get to do the job.
I’m drunk on her, delving my tongue deep inside her, so ready to sink down inside her I feel like I’m about to split down the middle.
Call it what it is: pure fuck-hot insanity.
I’ve never been this tuned to any woman, to her body, her needs.
When she’s thoroughly whipped by my tongue, I trail kisses up her stomach, spending a moment on each tit, and then kiss her lips.
“How’d I do, lady?”
“Better than perfect,” she groans.
God, she’s gorgeous.
Her skin is flushed, her face glowing, her eyes flooded with this balmy warmth.
Every time I look at her, it does something wild to my heart. To me.
Every day we’re together, I’m amazed that she’s somehow more beautiful than the day before. My balls churn fire, aching with this crazy fantasy, this sense that I could keep her, maybe even put a kid in her someday.
The gossip rags would go ballistic over the baby we’d make. Their looks would be pure Athena or Apollo.
Snarling, I kiss her again, amused that no matter how often I take those lips, it’s never enough.
She smiles slowly, her eyes dancing to mine. “Give me a minute, then it’s your turn.”
We trade places on the bed, her still slick with sweat and painfully sexy, dropping to her knees in front of me.
The moment her lips clamp down around my cock, I’m gone.
Not a chance in hell I’m going to last long.
I damn near came with her when she blew the second time.
But who the hell am I to deny a woman her fun?
My body goes rigid, my mouth dry, making her name sound hoarser than thunder because all I can do is whisper.
“Grace, fuck...”
Her hand pumps the base of my cock harder, faster as she sucks me, pulling me closer and closer. The hellfire pressure in my balls increases, bringing me to the brink several times before I reach for her hair, pulling her away.
“On me, woman. I know you’re on the pill. I want you raw, and I want it right now.”
Her eyes go wide, lit like the moon.
For a second, I wonder if I’ve gone too far, asked for too much.
Then she stands, slowly draping her hands around my shoulders. I guide her down on my cock like a bull in mating rut.
It takes everything I have to hold back while her pussy engulfs my cock, our eyes locked, my hands sweeping to her ass and grabbing her cheeks.
We both go hard, our bodies frantic for their first taste with nothing between us, the condoms a distant memory—if I have my way, forever.
Our hips collide, drawing my dick in to the hilt, and we’re two feral creatures just clutching, tearing, gasping in a race to see who’s the first to fall.
Incredibly, I hold it together...about two seconds longer than her.
The instant she tenses, drags her nails down my back, and bites at my shoulder to muffle her scream, I’ve left the planet.
My dick fucks a few more rabid strokes into her slick, tight heat before I bury myself with a growl and let go.
We’re coming so hard it’s no exaggeration to call it apocalyptic.
Heat rips out of me and floods her, my dick pulsing with a hot growl spilling from my throat. I sear my mouth on hers, digging my teeth into her bottom lip, marking her with my mouth as my seed brands her within.
Holy fuck.
She told me the other week
she’s never had any man raw.
And now that she chose me to break her in, skin on skin, I can’t imagine anyone else having her again.
“Ridge?”
I look up into her soft, curious eyes after I’m spent, wondering where I’ve been for the last...fuck, how long has it been?
Laughing, she uncouples with a parting kiss and smiles up at me, eyes shimmering.
“That’s my show for the day. I love it. Sucking you dry,” she whispers. “Maybe next time you’ll let me finish you with my mouth.”
I grasp her face, running my fingers through her gold hair.
“And miss a chance to fill you up again? It’s like you’re trying to give me the biggest dilemma ever known to man.”
She giggles, falling against my shoulder.
“We’re hopeless, aren’t we?” Sighing, she stands. “And I still don’t know what dress I’m wearing.”
Dress?
Oh, right.
Thoughts of round two are already swallowing my brain.
“Still plenty of time to figure that out,” I say, cupping her breasts.
Excitement flickers in her eyes as she nods, glancing down at my cock. It’s standing as tall and proud as when she’d first taken it into her mouth.
She touches the tip. “I guess if we take an extended break...”
“Under me. Ass up. You need a pillow?” I ask as she saunters to the bed and obeys.
“I’ve got the headboard to claw. Just try not to ram me through it headfirst,” she says, more than half serious.
I grin.
Turns out, I’m the one who needs something to hold on to as I mount her from behind, pushing balls deep.
I’ve been falling all damn month.
Falling hard, falling fast, falling madly in love with this woman who’s become my total obsession.
She moans real sweet for me as I take her, pushing her on to her next release, animalistic grunts ripping out of me as I take her to the brink.
Nothing about sex ever disappoints with her, except for one thing—it has to end.
And it does, ten minutes later, when we’re both soaked in sweat and I have her pinned down, emptying myself inside her, grinding my seed, loving how her pussy sucks off every inch of me when she comes so hard it shatters her.
“What’s wrong?” she asks after we’re both flopped down on our backs and almost breathing like human beings again.
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “Just soaking you up, darlin’. Sometimes, I can’t believe it.”
“You’re the gorgeous one, remember?” she whispers. “There are days when I can’t believe I’m having sex with a movie star. Ridge Barnet. The most handsome man in the world.”
“Hey, I won a lot of awards, but I was never voted that,” I say with a wink, rolling between her legs, positioning myself over her again.
The more we talk, the more I’m ready to go again.
“But you were.” She arches her hips up, taking the tip of me inside her. “I took a vote. You won. The end.”
Shit!
There’s no time to even laugh, considering she wants it as bad as I do.
Grace pulls me down, pushing her legs against mine so my length sinks deep inside her.
I’ve won something, all right.
Raging need surges through me.
Grabbing her shoulders, I slam her against the mattress as her legs push harder on mine, urging me on. My mouth buries hers in a blinding kiss.
Then it’s all instinct, fast, out of control, and absolutely carnal.
You already know I don’t just mean the sex.
The weekend comes in no time and I glance at the clock.
Six hours until the party starts.
It seems like everyone’s on edge around here, from Jackie telling us Nelson’s ornerier than ever, to Corny screaming at one a.m., to the horses snorting and staring off into the distance this morning.
I’m determined, but nervous as hell.
We still don’t have direct confirmation it’s Grendal himself delivering the drugs.
Faulk thinks for sure it’ll be him. He says his FBI spooks told him Clay left Milwaukee with half a dozen guys, three vehicles, but only two of the vehicles arrived in Dallas a couple hours ago.
All the big guests Bebe invited are filing into the hotel in town where it’s due to take place.
She’s there, too, helping coordinate and relay info. I might owe her a fourth damn movie just for dragging her back out to Dallas one more time.
The drugs are total decoys. They’ll never make it to anyone. Hard evidence due to be handed over to an undercover FBI informant with ties to the DEA, posing as an event planner.
Bebe went along with the scheme, as promised, insisting she wanted the crap delivered straight from the manufacturer to make sure they haven’t been cut or altered before delivery. She worked her L.A. sources over until they put her in touch with a place that could do it, conveniently just a few hours away in Fargo.
Apparently, the Old Town Boys are active there, too, using it as one of their depots before the shit flows farther west or north into Canada.
She told them they’d get seven figures for a successful execution.
As much as it annoys me, I’m glad she played it up, letting it be known far and wide in the underground that I only settle for the best of the best, and pay a king’s ransom.
One of the club owners came through, touching base with Clay’s main distributor.
The bastard couldn’t have had any doubt about the source of the request here in little old Dallas.
Faulk’s also at the hotel, helping Drake put up additional surveillance. Even Grady has someone watching his kids so he can be ready at a moment’s notice.
I’m touched but also afraid for these men who are risking their asses to help save mine.
One thing’s for sure: we’ll have every base covered.
Lost in my thoughts over prep, it dawns on me that I hear a horn blaring outside. It’s distant yet getting louder.
I glance out the window as Jackie Owens’ car comes flying up the driveway.
She mentioned taking Nelson into town for new shoes or something, I can’t say I was fully listening with everything else on my mind.
Tobin went to Dallas earlier, too. Starch for my tuxedo. He’d been fussing that I hadn’t dug it out sooner so he could have it sent out to be pressed.
I exit my office, walk to the front door, and open it just as the car comes to a screaming halt near the garage.
What the hell?
“Help me get him inside, Ridge!” Nelson roars, throwing open the passenger door.
I jog down the steps, concerned and confused, until I get a look at what’s behind the door hanging open.
Tobin is a tangled mess in the back seat, holding a bloody rag to his head. His glasses are bent, one lens completely blown out, his green eyes so empty it scares the shit out of me.
“What the fuck happened?” I grind out, elbowing Nelson aside and reaching in to help Tobin out.
“Broken ribs. Possible concussion, I think,” Jackie says, “but we need to get the bleeding stopped right now. Help him inside.”
“They...they ran me off the road,” Tobin says, his voice this dry, faint rattle. “I...I saw them coming. Tried to veer b-but...the truck. It rolled.”
“Who?” I snap my mouth shut.
Dumb question. I already know.
And I feel like the world’s biggest jackass for underestimating them, thinking they’d just walk right into our trap.
He’s got more than a few broken ribs. One glance at Tobin’s busted face tells me they aimed to kill him, running him off the road.
My heart shoots lightning through my chest.
It’s pure hell, seeing him like this.
The man who’s always been a rock through every storm of my life.
The man who practically raised me, an unbreakable soul.
The man who protested with his heart and soul when
I went off to destroy Linus Hammond, but who sees so much ruthlessness in Clay Grendal, he helped me with the poison.
And it’s looking a hell of a lot more likely that we’ll have to use it.
It isn’t fucking fair.
Tobin deserves better than winding up the sacrificial lamb.
Swallowing the fire in my throat, I grab under Tobin’s arm and help him as he limps pitifully toward the house.
Holy shit.
So much for having all my bases covered.
The flaw in our plan was assuming that maniac would play ball just long enough to wander into a swarm of cops and federal agents.
Now, it looks like we’re the ones who were baited.
“They’d have killed me. They slowed down, threw open their doors...I saw guns,” Tobin whispers, trying to ground himself in his storytelling. “But traffic came...people stopped. Then Nelson and Jackie arrived with these kids...”
“You just rest, buddy,” I say, putting him gently on the couch, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. “You’re safe now. I’m going to get you a doctor.”
“Ridge!” His eyes bulge, suddenly full of energy. He grabs at my shirt. “You...you have to finish them. Be smart. Be devious. The toast...”
I know exactly what he means.
Leaning near his ear, I whisper, “I won’t let you down.”
Jackie comes up then, barking orders at everyone, including me to get out of the way so she can do her thing.
While she takes over, I pull out my phone and send a message to the guys.
Change of plans. I need cover here. Everybody come over, pronto, I text.
When I look up, I catch the look on Grace’s face as she hurries into the room with a bowl of water and towels.
She’s ashen, shaking her head at me, the guilt already eating her up inside.
Dammit all.
I reach for her arm, but she flinches and pulls away.
Setting the bowl on the coffee table, she starts taking off Tobin’s bloodied shoes and gives me one more reason why I’m going to annihilate the entire Grendal syndicate.
21
No Trust Undone (Grace)
Appalling guilt churns in my belly like a washing machine flushed with acid as I remove Tobin’s shoes and cut slits up his trouser legs to expose his shins.