Avenging Angel (Pounding Hearts Book 5)

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Avenging Angel (Pounding Hearts Book 5) Page 24

by Izzy Sweet


  Did I sleep with him? I rack my brain trying to pull up the memory, but if I did sleep with him I can’t remember it. There are just flashes of things. The colorful strobe lights, the music pumping. Dancing, laughter.

  Kisses.

  I squeeze my knees together as I remember some intense sensations. Whatever we did last night it was good, too good. I’ve never felt such things before. Flashes of intense, throbbing pressure and my fingers clawing at his head.

  Fuck. Don’t tell me I had my first orgasm and I don’t even get to remember it.

  I peek over at him again, he’s still sleeping peacefully beside me.

  He’s so… My eyes roam over him from head to toe. Massive.

  What did he say his name was? Oh, yeah, now I remember—Max.

  Max is gorgeous. I roll over to my side and hold my breath, waiting for my movements to wake him.

  He keeps on sleeping.

  I don’t know why but I feel like I already know his body, and I have the strongest urge to get reacquainted with it.

  Scooting closer, I drink in his face. Smooth forehead, straight nose, and a thick brown-black beard that I remember tickling my thighs.

  Oh god, how did his beard tickle my thighs? Unless….

  I shove that fantasy away and continue my visual exploration. He’s tall and strong, built like a tank. He’s got the kind of muscles that can’t be simply chalked up to genetics, you know he works hard for them.

  I’m pretty sure he’s an MMA fighter like Mandy’s ex-boyfriend Brett.

  His chest is bare, sculpted and covered in tattoos. I watch it for the longest time, almost hypnotized as it rises and falls with each soft intake of his breath.

  I have never been with anyone like him before. Never would dare to dream I could score someone like him. I’m a twenty-two-year-old single mother. Guys my age who are interested in long-term relationships avoid me like the plague because of my ‘baggage’.

  As if Hope could ever be baggage.

  And the guys that are interested in me think I’m an easy lay because I had a baby when I was a teen and only want sex.

  I haven’t had sex since I got pregnant, five years ago.

  Did we have sex?

  My eyes drag down; his chest is bare but the white sheet is covering his waist.

  Do I dare lift the sheet and check to see if he’s naked?

  I scoot down the bed a little and glance up at his face. So far, he’s still sleeping.

  I watch his face as I extend my arm and slowly, carefully, grab the sheet. His breathing continues in its soft steady rhythm. I ease the sheet down a few inches and glance over at what I revealed.

  I get an eyeful of his defined abs and the deep groove of his V, the lines pointing towards his groin like a roadmap.

  I lick my lips. Those lines are practically begging me to keep going, to see where they’re pointing.

  I still can’t be sure he isn’t wearing any underwear. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

  And seriously, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  I peek back up at his face. His thick lashes are still fanned against his cheeks. My movements haven’t stirred him yet.

  Watching his face for any sign of waking up, I ease the sheet lower.

  And lower.

  And a little lower.

  Thinking it should be low enough, I glance back over, meaning only to do a quick peek. After all, I’m not a complete pervert… I’m just a little perverted.

  What I see causes me to suck in a sharp breath.

  Holy fuck, I didn’t think they made them that big.

  My knees lock together and my core clenches. I know without a doubt I’d remember if we had sex, I’d remember if that had been inside me. There’s no way I’d feel the same again.

  Right now his cock is soft, but even in this state it’s bigger than any other cock I’ve ever seen, just resting against his thigh.

  We probably didn’t go all the way because he’s so big he didn’t fit.

  The longer I stare at it the more it looks like it’s moving, growing even. His cock starts to lift.

  I peek back up at his face and freeze.

  His warm chocolate eyes are open and he’s staring down at me with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

  “Good morning,” I stammer out and drop the sheet.

  Oh god, the sheet dropped down even more and I’ve been caught red-handed. My cheeks are so hot they feel like they’re on fire, and that fire is spreading. I feel the flush all the way down my chest.

  “Good morning,” he rumbles in a deep, sexy voice still husky from sleep.

  I lean back, trying to create distance between us. He leans forward, chasing me.

  I sink into the pillows and he rises over me, his eyes never leaving my eyes. He’s so big, so wide, all I can see is him. He fills all of my vision.

  His head dipping down, I suck in another breath and hold it in anticipation. I totally just perved on him while he was sleeping and he’s going to kiss me.

  I totally don’t deserve it, but I certainly want it.

  His lips touch my lips and it’s like freakin’ magic. Colors flash behinds my eyes, all the little nerves in my body awaken with awareness. The breath I was holding comes out of me as a groan, and he presses harder, deeper, increasing the pressure of his kiss.

  His smell, his warmth, his taste overwhelms me. He smells clean and musky. His taste is like warm honey on my lips. His beard brushes against my chin and it tickles a little, but it’s so soft I like the extra sensation.

  Shifting above me, his hairy knees nudge at my knees, and I feel myself spreading, opening. Already forgetting the fear of him fitting.

  The longer his lips play with my lips, the more I feel myself easing into submission. This just feels too right, like he was meant to be above me. There’s this weird kind of anticipation building inside me. A promise made, something left unfinished.

  A memory that needs to be completed.

  His mouth slants over my mouth, pulling, tasting and savoring. There’s so much care, so much enjoyment in it. Inside I’m melting. That throbbing pressure is increasing.

  I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck, tugging as if I could pull him closer. Not completely understanding what I need from him, but I need something. He groans his own deep, rumbling groan and then his tongue is thrusting past my lips as he positions his massive frame between my thighs.

  I feel a strain in my muscles as I have to spread wider to accommodate him.

  Our tongues meet, crashing together, and with it there’s a strong jolt of electric sensation. The jolt travels down my spine, directly to my core. Stunning me for a moment.

  He begins to lower his weight down on me and I sink deeper into the soft mattress. Tongue stroking against my tongue, I pick up his rhythm.

  Chest to chest, waist to waist, he rocks his hips forward, grinding his erection against my panties. I’m so wet, so sensitive, I almost come as his dick rubs against my clit.

  Moaning into his mouth, the pillow under my head vibrates. Vaguely, I register it.

  I can’t stop myself from rocking my hips up, can’t stop myself from grinding back against his erection. I want him inside me. Every nerve in my body is aching with the need of it.

  My pillow vibrates again.

  Huh? That’s weird.

  His kiss slows as he notices my distraction. His tongue is stroking against my tongue, but I’ve lost the rhythm and I can’t seem to find it again.

  The pillow vibrates once more and it’s too bothersome to keep ignoring it. I unwrap my arms from around his neck and regretfully tear my mouth away, ending the kiss.

  “What’s wrong?” he pants.

  “My pillow is vibrating,” I answer, breathless.

  He frowns down at me, mirroring my confusion. The pillow vibrates, his eyebrows twitch as if he noticed it. Shifting above me, he slides his hand beneath my pillow.

  “Is this yours?” he asks, pulling his a
rm back and holding my phone in his hand.

  I feel like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on my head.

  “Yes,” I answer, my blood chilled.

  Glancing at my screen, I quickly notice I have several missed calls and five new voice messages.

  Oh, shit. That can’t be good.

  Unwrapping my arms from around his neck, I reach out my hand. Max hands me my phone and rolls off of me. Sitting up, I quickly scroll through all my missed calls. I have several texts from Carson, in all caps, telling me to call him.

  Did something happen to Hope?

  I don’t even bother listening to my voice mails. I dial Carson and he immediately answers the phone.

  “What the fuck, Grace?” he answers angrily.

  I know he’s probably frustrated because he was trying to get in touch with me, but it really pisses me off every time he cusses at me, especially if he does it front of Hope. It shows just a complete lack of respect for me.

  I take a deep breath, steeling myself before I ask. “What’s wron—”

  He cuts me off. “What’s wrong? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how much money you’re costing me? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for over an hour.”

  I double check the time on my phone. “Did something happen?”

  “Yeah, I need you to come and pick up Hope now.”

  “Nothing happened to her, she’s okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine,” he growls impatiently. “She’s been up all morning bugging me.”

  Dammit, Carson. He really just scared the crap out of me. I thought something happened to her. I don’t know why he’s in such a hurry for me to pick her up. I check the time again, perhaps I read it wrong. Nope, it’s only eight in morning.

  I tell him, “I’m not supposed to pick her up for a couple more hours.” He should know this, he’s the one who pushed for it when we were working out custody.

  “I don’t care. You need to come and get her now. I have to go to work.”

  “Okay,” I sigh and feel that ache behind my eyes returning. I wish he would have told me when I dropped her off that he wanted her picked up early. “I’m coming to get her; I’ll be there shortly.”

  Honestly, I don’t mind picking up Hope early. It’s just that the timing sucks today.

  “You better. If you’re not here within the hour, don’t bother coming at all.”

  My heart skips a beat to hear him say that. He’s threatening to not give her back? Just to punish me?

  “I’ll be there,” I quickly assure him.

  I’m already sliding off my side of the bed and searching for the rest of my clothes.

  “Time is money, Grace, and you owe me.”

  The line goes dead.

  Max

  Somewhere in my dreams I see an angel’s wings spreading around me as a woman’s face bends down to kiss me. But the weird thing is I don’t feel her lips against my own, but a cooler breeze on my cock.

  I look down to where my cock is and see that the sheet is lifting up and that a beautiful blonde woman is lifting it. She looks so curious though that I want to laugh.

  There’s arousal flaming her skin and her breath is hitching as she gazes in amazement at me. I can’t help it when I feel a burst of arousal filling my cock. We left a lot unfinished last night.

  Looks like I’m ready to pick up where we left off.

  I’ve never actually had a girl fall asleep on me before. After bringing her back from the club and getting her into my bed, one second she was grinding her soaking wet panties all over the head of my cock, and the next, well, she was sleeping…

  I left for one fucking minute to grab a rubber out of my nightstand, but by the time I came back, she was already lightly snoring.

  All I could think at the time was son of a bitch.

  She was so fucking hot sleeping there in her panties and tight t-shirt, just watching her kept my cock hard and throbbing all night. Her body is fucking on point. She looks like she was built to fuck.

  Damn.

  I have not seen a woman as smoking hot as this one in my life.

  At the club, I couldn’t help but notice how strikingly similar she looks like my longtime crush, Britney Spears, from afar. Not a clone, but damn close.

  Up close, though, it’s easier to make out the differences between them. Grace’s eyes are a darker brown, and she has a cuter, more petite nose. She’s also thicker in a way that makes me want to fucking pound her through the mattress. The fact is this girl is three times as hot as Britney, which I didn’t think was possible.

  And all I want to do is fuck her pretty brains out and mark her as mine.

  I feel myself slowly growing as she looks back up to my face. Caught, she is blushing so damn brightly. I’ve never seen someone look so damn cute when blushing before.

  “Good morning…” she says, and the sheet falls even further down as she drops it.

  “Good morning,” I say and I can tell she is quickly becoming more and more embarrassed.

  Fuck that. I don’t have time for shit like that.

  She is trying to retreat to the other side of the bed. Yeah, that’s not going to work either.

  I chase after her, and I can see in her eyes that she isn’t nearly as scared as she should be. After I am done with her this morning—and probably this afternoon—I’ll probably have to peel her off of my mattress.

  I’m planning on having my way with her, repeatedly. The ache in my balls has been throbbing all night and there’s so much built up inside me I could probably fuck this girl until it’s time to go to sleep again for the night.

  Closing the space between us, I push my lips against hers. They are so soft that I push even harder against them. They move against mine with so much passion it’s obvious she needs this just as much as I do.

  Holding myself above her, she is so much smaller than me it’s driving me fucking crazy. Something about our size difference is bringing out the inner caveman in me. I just want to fuck her, and claim her, and own her.

  She’s so tiny and beautiful, she needs my protection.

  Nudging those silky smooth thighs apart, a hint of her arousal hits my nose. She smells so good, like sex mixed with hot spices. Laying down between her thighs, I rub my raging cock against her pussy mound. Her panties are soaking wet against me.

  Shit. She is going to feel so damn good to slide into.

  It’s a battle of wills between the wild raging animal inside of me and the man in my head who screams to take this slow and gentle.

  Grace, the name fits her so damn well. Like the way she danced last night and how she returns my kisses this morning—it’s graceful with barely restrained passion. I can feel how much she is controlling herself, how she holds herself on that razor’s edge.

  Her hips roll up and down as we kiss, our tongues following each other in a dance of sweet, hot passion.

  Fuck, I am all but falling into this chick, falling into her kiss…

  Her kisses suddenly slow though and then stop all together.

  I have no clue what the hell I did wrong and I really want to fix it.

  I look down at her and see a look of confusion. Shit, is she just now figuring out this isn’t a dream like I am?

  “What’s wrong?”

  She says the last thing I would expect, “My pillow is vibrating.”

  It’s my turn to be confused as I try to figure out what the fuck she just said. I mean, I’m good and all, but I have never caused such sexual arousal that a woman’s pillow vibrates. Then I hear a faint buzzing sound and figure out what she means.

  Reaching under the pillow, I pull out a cellphone that isn’t mine.

  “Is this yours?” I ask.

  Her reaction sucks because she instantly goes from the sensual woman who the gods must have modeled all things desirous after, to instant worry. She is still so beautiful, but it’s in a way I haven’t seen before.

  Shit.

  She presses her phone to ear, he
r face a mask of worry, and I can only really hear her side of the conversation but I can make out enough to know that some asshat is causing her grief. When he speaks really loudly, my hackles start to rise.

  The bear in me is raising back on his hind legs, ready to protect her if she needs it.

  She is out of my bed so quickly, pulling her clothes back on, that I know instantly that what we had going just a moment go is over.

  Dead and done. No relief for either of us.

  Fuck.

  I wonder if she realizes I drove us back home last night as she starts patting herself down.

  “Crap,” she squeaks out as she must of just realized it. “Did you drive?”

  “Yeah, I brought you home last night. You were in no way safe to drive.”

  “Were you?”

  “Yeah, I’m in training. I have a fight coming up really soon.”

  “Um… would it be possible for you to help me go pick up my daughter?”

  Daughter. Well, shit. Daughter. There is a word I don’t hear often.

  My mouth is moving before my brain even has a chance to react. “Sure. I don’t have a car seat though. I mean we could probably go buy one really quick if we need…”

  Her eyes widen. “No, that’s okay, her father uses mine. He won’t buy one because he says it would look bad in his backseat.”

  What the fuck? I think to myself as I stand up quick from the bed.

  My cock leads the way as I walk towards her.

  She looks down and I swear her eyes almost cross as she stares really, really hard at it.

  Yeah, I’m not a small guy by any means.

  “Um…We… uh...” she stammers out as I pass her to get to my dresser.

  I pull out a pair of jeans and some socks. Grabbing a plain white t-shirt from the walk-in closet, I quickly pull on my clothes.

  Fuck underwear right now, the big guy needs to relax and not be confined.

  Grace looks at me for a moment then smiles. It’s not the biggest of smiles I have seen on her beautiful face, but it’s still a good one.

  I lead her through the house that she didn’t see last night. I was more carrying and kissing her through it.

  We head into the garage and I use my remote start on my brand new big blue Escalade. I love this fucking SUV; it gives me enough room to stretch out when I drive. Most vehicles are a bitch for a guy of my size.

 

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