Hard Lovin'

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Hard Lovin' Page 2

by Desiree Holt


  As he spoke, she was startled by the absence of fear, of the panic she’d have expected at the thought of being in an enclosed space with a strange man. Any man except good old T.J.

  Maybe magic was at work here because common sense sure wasn’t. But something about Grady Sinclair called to her. Pulled at her. Touched her at her core. Maybe because she saw in his eyes the signs of a kindred tortured soul.

  “All right,” she told him.

  His eyes widened, as if he’d expected her to refuse him, and the slow crooked grin crept over his face again.

  “You can follow me. So if you change your mind, you can peel off and go home. Or wherever.”

  “Give me a minute,” she told him and pulled her cell phone out of her purse.

  Lili, I am going home with Grady Sinclair. Can’t go through with wedding. Lie like a trouper. You’re the best.

  She sent the text then put the phone away.

  “I’m ready. And I’ll ride with you.”

  “Are you sure? I want you to feel safe. You seem like someone who’s afraid of every shadow.”

  Maybe going off with a stranger was a stupid thing to do, but she was finally learning to trust her instincts. And they told her she’d be safe with Grady Sinclair.

  “Not tonight.” She smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

  He held out his hand and linked his fingers with hers. An incredible sense of rightness flowed over her, wrapping around her like a blanket. A peace she hadn’t felt since…well, just since. When they reached his pickup—dark gray and definitely well used—Grady leaned her against the passenger door. He stood there for a moment, one warm hand on her knee.

  “You sure about this, darlin’?”

  “I am.” Oh, yes. Inexplicably, unbelievably sure.

  Raw, edgy lust etched his face. “Your name. Tell me your name.”

  Tell him her name? But that made this so personal.

  Well, dummy, this is personal! He’s taking you home to his bed where he’ll probably fuck your brains out. How can you be so stupid? Don’t you ever learn?

  But she didn’t feel the risk. Not like there had been with Cal. She felt almost…protected. What was that all about?

  She wet her lips. “It’s Erin. Erin Braddock.”

  Damn. Should I have told him my last name? What if he’s heard of my daddy and calls him? Everyone kisses Rance Braddock’s ass. No. That’s not who he is.

  “Erin.” It sounded musical on his lips. “Beautiful. Like you. Maybe I’ll write a song about Erin. You’re so damn sweet. I have to kiss you.”

  He cupped her head, his hands gentle as his mouth lightly touched hers. He seemed to be kissing her by degrees, waiting at each step to see if she’d bolt and run. To see if she could fall into this. Muted sounds from the crowd filtered outside, joining the song of crickets and passing traffic. None of it mattered. Just her and this man—a total stranger yet not a stranger. Someone who seemed to have been waiting in her heart to come out at the right time.

  Grady kissed her, gentle at first. But then passion, the wily beast, gripped them both, and he sent his tongue deep, drinking her sexy sigh, loving the feel of her breath on his face. They were alone in the night, so he drew her against him, loving the way her breasts settled against the worn cotton of his T-shirt.

  At last, when they were both gasping, he opened the door of the truck and handed her up into the seat as if she were a piece of precious cargo. He grinned, swept a kiss over her mouth then checked her seat belt and closed the door.

  They rode in silence, neither of them seeming to need conversation, comfortable with the quietness. Grady’s room was in a huge old-fashioned house in an older neighborhood in San Antonio.

  “I was lucky,” he told her, leading her quietly up an outside flight of stairs. “I got the room with its own entrance. And the only one with its own bathroom. I think it belonged to her son once, or something.”

  He unlocked the door, reached inside to flick on a light switch for the bedside lamp, and ushered her into a large bedroom furnished with sturdy, timeworn furniture. The only modern touch was a small television on the dresser.

  Erin pointed to it. “Yours?”

  He shook his head. “The landlady provides one for every room. She’s great.” He leaned his guitar case carefully in one corner then turned to face her, his hands gentle on her shoulders. “Are you sure about this, Erin?”

  Mutely, she nodded.

  “I can still take you back to your truck. Say the word.”

  So different from Cal, who’d never seemed to give her a choice. Or T.J., who tiptoed around her as if she’d shatter any minute. Grady was making it plain he wanted her, but the choice was hers.

  “I don’t want to go back,” she told him.

  “Good.” He let out a long, slow breath. “Because, I have to tell you, I can’t wait to get you in that bed.”

  She twisted her fingers together. “Will you turn out the light?”

  “Why?” He frowned. “I couldn’t see you.”

  And thank heavens.

  “I-it’s better in the dark.”

  “No, sugar, it’s not,” he drawled. “I’ll prove it to you.” Then, his face sobered. “Still not too late to change your mind, you know.”

  She took in a deep breath and shook her head.

  “Then be warned, I intend to look my fill of every inch.”

  Please don’t let him turn away. Please don’t let him care.

  He undressed her as carefully as if he were opening a gift, slowly removing each piece of clothing and kissing every part of her skin as he exposed it. When she stood in front of him naked except for a flimsy bra and her sandals, he stepped back and took a long look at her. His hot eyes traveled from her face down her body to her feet.

  She shut her eyes in anticipation of what was sure to come.

  “Erin? What happened to you? Were you in an accident?”

  “S-sort of.” She clenched her fists at her sides. “That’s why I wanted the lights out. You shouldn’t have to see my scars.”

  “They don’t look too recent.” He followed the line of one on her hip. “When did it happen?”

  ”A while ago.” But not long enough to stop turning my dreams into nightmares.

  “It doesn’t matter. You are so beautiful,” he breathed. “Every man’s wet dream, darlin’. I have to touch you everywhere.”

  She forced herself to relax as he traced the line of her jaw with his fingertips, the column of her neck, the slope of her shoulders.

  I don’t have to be afraid. I don’t have to be afraid. I don’t have to be afraid.

  And then, unaccountably, she wasn’t. Everything disappeared—her father, T.J., Cal. All gone as desire swept through them both.

  When he reached her breasts, he cupped their fullness and chafed the nipples through the thin satin. She shivered as delicious sensations skittered over her. As his hands skimmed her ribs and slid down past her waist to her hips, tracing the line of their flare, she could almost pretend the past had never happened. When one hand moved to the thatch of curls covering her mound, she closed her eyes to savor the feel.

  One long finger—a musician’s finger—followed the line of her drenched slit, pausing to massage the swollen nub. The walls of her cunt quivered with hungry need. She widened her stance the slightest, and he slid the finger insider her hot channel, curling it to scrape the tip against her sweet spot. Desire and hunger shot through her.

  He continued to stroke in and out of her pussy until, clutching his shoulders for balance, she moaned. “Stop. I want to see you naked. Please.”

  He slipped his finger from her wet grasp and painted her nipples with the cream on it. “All right.”

  She opened her eyes again and watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, his gaze never leaving hers. The hard wall of his chest was covered with swirls of dark hair arrowing downward toward his waist. The jeans were next, the pop of the snap and the grate of the zipper very loud in the still room. He to
ed off his boots, carefully maintaining his balance, then pushed his jeans and boxers off together.

  Erin swallowed a gasp.

  He was perfection—lean and hard muscles, with a thick nest of curls surrounding a cock standing impressively at attention. Tentatively, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked him from root to broad tip. A bead of fluid winked from the slit in the head, and her thumb rubbed it over the soft velvet. Her other hand reached down to cup his sac, lying heavy against his thighs, caressing the soft, fine hair. He sucked in a breath.

  She felt the tension radiating from his body, pleased he was willing to stand there and let her keep touching him without….

  No! Don’t go there.

  “Erin?” His voice was strained. “I need to get you on the bed, darlin’.”

  Without waiting for her to answer, he scooped her up and laid her on the coverlet. Spreading her legs wide, he knelt and licked her cream, his tongue the brush of a flame on her hot, hot cunt.

  “Ohhh,” she sighed. “You don’t have to—”

  “I do.” He lifted his head. “Yes, darlin’. I do.”

  And he went back to his task, licking and nipping, tugging at her clit with his lips and his teeth, fucking her pussy with his tongue, fingers stroking over her labia. She was drifting on a cloud of pleasure, lost in sensation. But when one finger drifted down to touch the tight ring of her anus, the cloud dissipated, and she flinched.

  Grady stilled. “Erin? It’s all right, darlin’. We won’t do anything you don’t enjoy.”

  He returned his attention to her pussy, eating at her like a starving man, working her clit and her quivering tunnel until she was rising toward the peak once more.

  “Ohhhh.” The sound slipped from her mouth. “Oh, Grady.”

  “Right here, darlin’.”

  He rose and lifted his jeans, pulling out his wallet and fishing for a condom. It took him only seconds to roll it on, and then he was pressing at her opening, the thick head of his cock pushing into her.

  “Now, sugar,” he rasped, and drove into her.

  “Yesss,” she cried as his hips pistoned, moving in a strong tempo.

  His forearms were braced on either side of her, and she clutched them for dear life, riding the wave of erotic desire. Again and again, his cock thrust into her, the muscles of her pussy tightening around him. Her orgasm rose up like a tidal wave and engulfed her, just as Grady shouted, “Now, Erin. Now.”

  And they fell into a vortex of fireworks and sensation, bodies shaking, lungs struggling for air with the fierce explosion of their shared climax. Finally, as the intensity faded, black velvet wrapped itself around them, and they tumbled into sleep.

  Chapter Two

  She left her father’s castle gate, left her own fine lover

  Left her servants and her estate, to follow the gypsy rover

  It was five o’clock in the morning, and Braddock Ranch was in utter chaos. Had been since T.J. Elliott discovered Erin was missing. In the backyard, the white tents set for the wedding stood forlornly empty, and the staff from the caterer and the florist huddled together, asking each other questions with no answers. Inside, the guests who hadn’t returned to their homes or hotel rooms gathered in shock. Uniformed sheriff’s deputies were still taking statements from people, and Nelda, the housekeeper, moved silently around the rooms, serving coffee.

  Rance Braddock angrily paced the great room, cell phone clapped to his ear, coffee mug in his other hand, boot heels thundering on the hardwood floor.

  “I don’t fucking care if you have to call out the National Guard,” he shouted into the phone. “I want my daughter found, and I want her found yesterday.

  T.J., shirt collar open, sleeves rolled up, hair disheveled, leaned against a wall, working his own cell phone, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief.

  “She has to be somewhere,” he repeated to the person on the other end. “Wake up everyone in town if you have to, but find her. You understand me?”

  Everyone knew only that Erin Braddock had left home last night and not returned. Her truck had been found that morning in the deserted parking lot at Smoky’s.

  “Didn’t anyone see her leave last night?” Diana Franklin whispered to the other three bridesmaids bunched in a corner with her. “Where did she go?”

  Vanessa Crawford gave an unladylike snort. “Where do you think? I’ll bet she went back to Smoky’s. Who wouldn’t go back to see Grady Sinclair?”

  “But she’s supposed to get married today,” Diana protested.

  “Yeah. To Mr. Oatmeal. I’d say she had second thoughts.”

  Vanessa covered her face with her hands. “Lordy, lordy. We never should have taken her there.”

  Lili Cardwell was thinking the same thing, hyperaware of the text she’d received from Erin. A text she wouldn’t reveal unless she thought it absolutely necessary. Maybe Erin was finally coming back to life, and all this opulence at the ranch, the suffocating presence of her father and T.J. were enough to choke her.

  “Listen to me.” Lili grabbed Vanessa’s wrists. “She needed some diversion. Something to shake her up. She was sleepwalking through everything.”

  “Well, who wouldn’t,” Vanessa protested. “Especially after—”

  “Don’t even mention his name,” Lili warned.

  “Lili, do you know something?” Vanessa demanded.

  “If I did, I’d tell.” Like hell. “And hush up. Here comes T.J. again.”

  “Ladies.” T.J. had disconnected his call and stood in front of them. “I need to ask you one more time. Y’all were with Erin the last four nights. Was she upset about anything? Unusually troubled?” A muscle ticced in his jaw. “Her daddy and I were hoping this wedding would be a new starting point for her.”

  They all shook their heads. Lili clasped her hands in her lap. “She was just like she’s been, T.J. Quiet. Sort of withdrawn. You know, into herself. Nothing different than the past few months.” She gave Rance a weak smile. “Something we were all hoping would change with the wedding.”

  “We told all that to the sheriff,” Vanessa put in. “The last we saw her, she said she was going out to get a breath of air. This house was jammed with people at the party, and you know how she’s been about crowds lately.”

  T.J. raked a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe she took off. Rance thinks someone took her, but that wouldn’t explain the ranch truck left at Smoky’s.”

  “Unless they stuffed her in the truck when no one was watching and made a switch at the bar.” Rance had come up beside T.J., lines of anger and distress carved into his face. “There was so much noise here last night, no one would have heard her call for help.” He gestured with his cell. “I called the governor’s office, and he’s getting the Texas Rangers on this. Damn, damn, damn. She’s been through so much. I wanted to see her safely married and out of harm’s way.”

  T.J. glanced at Rance, a strange expression washing over his face. “I’d like to think my marriage was a little more than that, Rance. Not that my top priority isn’t helping Erin get past her nightmares, but I think marriage needs a little more. Like love.”

  “Of course, of course.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean otherwise. I’ve been so damn worried about her. And now this.”

  “I know I asked this before,” T.J. said, “but do you think Cal might have had anything to do with this? He’s not exactly a happy camper these days.”

  Anger flashed in Rance’s eyes. “I don’t think he’d have the balls for something like this. Anyway, he’s the first person the cops checked with. He’s in Dallas at a business conference where he’s been visible almost every minute. Not enough time for him to get here and back without someone noticing.”

  “And what about the people in the bar last night?” T.J. persisted. “Anything there?”

  Rance blew out a breath of frustration. “Sheriff Danby’s talking to Joe Roberts, the owner, himself, to see what he remembers
. He said he’d call the minute he’s through. Had to yank him out of bed.” The cell phone in his hand rang, and he punched the Talk button. “Yeah? Oh, Governor, sorry to be so short. Yeah, yeah. Okay, good. Thanks very much.” He disconnected and looked at T.J. “Ranger Company ‘D’ in San Antonio is sending someone out. Should be here in a couple of hours.”

  “I can’t stand here and do nothing. Maybe I can run into town, scout around the bar myself.”

  “You stay put,” Rance told him. “Let the experts do their jobs.”

  “Oh,” T.J. snorted, “like you’re not just itching to race out there and start hunting yourself?”

  “And I will. But first I want to get my ducks in a row. When I find the bastard who took her, he’ll wish he was dead before I get through with him.”

  ***

  Erin woke to the gray light of dawn filtering in through the blinds at the windows, the color of the sky before the first rays of sunlight painted it. She blinked her eyes twice, not sure at first where she was. The room was totally unfamiliar. Had she somehow woken up in an alternate universe?

  Then she realized in quick order a warm male body was spooned against her, a strong male arm wrapped around her waist, and a very masculine leg draped over hers. And it all came crashing back like a building imploding. The party. The noise. The crowd. The desperate need to escape. Smoky’s and the singer with the let-me-fuck-you voice.

  And the best sex she’d ever had in her life.

  Grady Sinclair.

  Holy shit, what have I done?

  She shifted slightly, wondering exactly what the morning-after etiquette was in a situation like this. She’d never picked a guy up in a bar before. She’d gone home from a party with Cal, but that had been more of her rebellion. And, of course, look how well that had turned out.

  She waited for the fear to sweep over her, the panic, the desperate need to escape, but all she felt was a throbbing in her pussy and an unbelievable need to feel this man inside her again.

 

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