Playing With Fire (Grindstone Harbor, #2)

by Cat Mason

  “Mmm,” I hum in agreement.

  Sliding two fingers inside me, he growls low in his throat. “Fuckin’ soaked.” His lips part, tongue sweeping out over his bottom lip. Slipping his fingers from my body, sits back slightly and cups my ass, the position forcing me up onto my toes.

  My eyes fly open with the first flick of his tongue against my clit. “Ah!” Rocking me up into his mouth, Tanner hums, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout my body. His hands palm my ass, fingers digging in almost to the point of pain. The bite grows harder each time I moan his name. It feels amazing. So fucking good. Every nerve ending in my body sparks with need, my desire intensifying into a full-blown ache.

  It becomes a game. The terms clearly lined out without any words needing to be spoken between us. The push, the pull, all gives way to a connection building between us that feels so natural, so goddamn right, that there is no hesitation, no question in my mind that we are right where we belong. The tension that has been brewing between us for far longer than I care to admit coming to a boil right here in my bed, spilling over explosively. This is it. This is us. And while it’s still very new, it’s also has a sense of familiarity that makes it impossible to deny. The chemistry between Tanner and I has been here all along, brewing just beneath the surface all these years, waiting to make itself known.

  Now that it has, there’s no going back.

  I can see that now.

  “Tanner,” I whimper, my thighs starting to shake. He looks up at me through his lashes, the molten heat burning in those deep browns blazing. So intense. So focused. All of it on me. On bringing me to my breaking point. His goal to make me forget everything except him for a little while.

  And it’s working. In this moment, Tanner is all I see.

  All I want.

  All I fucking need.

  “Close, aren’t you?” Thrusting two fingers into me, he curls them, expertly finding that sweet spot I so desperately need him to hit. “Goddamn,” he groans, pumping his fingers slowly. In and out. In and out. Absolute bliss. Just. Fucking. Perfect. His eyes lock on mine, feeding off the hunger and need radiating off me as I writhe, shamelessly seeking more, greedily seeking that extra pressure I need to topple over the edge into the abyss. “That’s it, baby.” Licking his lips, he blows a teasing rush of air over my skin, his mouth hovering above where I need him. “Now fucking come for me.”

  Wrapping his lips around my clit, he sucks, he flicks, and I detonate. He gives without hesitation and I am oh so willing to take it all.

  “My God.” Arms and legs going weak, I collapse to the mattress. “Tanner. Oh! God I’m—” My words drift off, replaced by his name repeatedly falling from my lips.

  “Fuck yeah.” Not missing a beat, Tanner slips his fingers free and follows me down, devouring me ravenously. Lost to my climax, my hands fist in his hair, yanking the strands while my hips buck wildly, grinding against his awaiting mouth.

  “Tanner,” I gasp, feeling him slow, allowing me to come back down slowly.

  “So beautiful, baby,” he murmurs, kissing his way up my abdomen. “Mmm. I need to be inside you.”

  “Not to state the obvious, sweetcheeks,” I huff, working to catch my breath. “But, you’re the one dragging this out.” Reaching out my hand, I trace the sharp line of his jaw with the tips of my fingers. “I’m yours, Tanner. The light’s green, pal. Lose the pants and hit the damn gas.”

  “I’m not driving.” Rolling us, he pulls me on top of him. “You are.” Hands in my hair, he pulls me down, kissing me hard, hot, and blowing any hope of a smartass comeback from me out of the water. Straddling his thighs, I fumble with the clasp of my bra, tossing it away before gripping onto his arms for balance. Our bodies grind against each other, his erection straining against the zipper of his jeans, putting pressure against my core.

  Unable to help myself, I release his arms and flatten my palms against his chest, taking a second to traces the lines of his chest with my fingers. Breaking our kiss, I push him down on the bed. His eyes drop to my hands, breathing slow and even as he watches every move I make. Sliding my hands up to cup his face, I lean down and lightly kiss his lips. When I pull back, I see Tanner’s expression change. His eyes soften, mouth curling up into a sweet smile, sinful knee weakening dimples and all. “What?” I ask, feeling the rough tips of his fingers slowly trailing up my spine.

  “The way you’re lookin’ at me," he breathes, shaking his head in what looks like a cross between amazement and disbelief. “I’ve spent so much of my life wanting you. Wonderin’ what it’d be like for you to look at me that way.”

  “Son of a dammit. Is there something wrong with my face?” Sitting up, I cross my eyes and puff out my cheeks, determined to break the seriousness of the moment. Something I feel like I desperately need to do. I’m not ready for the heavy I feel coming with the intense and unexpected turn in his pillow talk. “That better?”

  His smile nearly touches his eyes. “Yeah.” Nodding slowly, he reaches up and cups my cheek. “Much.”

  “Fabulous.” Sliding my ass back onto his thighs, I push up on my knees enough to give myself room to work. Dropping my hands to the waistband of his jeans, I trace the tips of my fingers along his skin before finding the button and popping it open. His lips part on a hiss of air. Tugging down the zipper, I yank his jeans down his thighs, licking my lips eagerly when his thick cock springs free. “Just so you know, I’m not on the pill,” I announce on a sarcastic giggle.

  “I’ll be damned,” he groans, arching his hips upward when I wrap my fingers around his length. “Me neither.”

  “I won’t be wearing a condom either.” Leaning up, I rock my hips, rubbing the tip of his cock against my clit. “Don’t even ask me to.”

  He huffs out a laugh, mixed with a pained groan. “Bet you won’t even cuddle after you’ve used me for my body.”

  Arching my brow, I slide the tip of him inside me. A low hum leaving his lips, his hands going to my ass to guide me. “I’ll cuddle the fuck outta you,” I reply, taking him deep. Bracing my arms behind me, hands on his thighs, I tease him with one slow swivel of my hips. “Just don’t ask for cab fare.”

  “That’s harsh.” His hands move around to my ass, fingers digging into my flesh, encouraging me to move. “You’d make your man do the walk of shame?”

  My man.

  I’m surprised how much I like the sound of that...

  “Hmm. Maybe I’ll keep you here,” I murmur, rolling my hips in time with the rise and fall of his chest. “I like the idea of you in my bed, naked and waiting for me to come play with you.”

  “I bet you do, gorgeous girl.” He bucks his hips, driving up into me and grinding his pelvis into mine. Bringing his hands up to my chest, he teases my nipples with his fingers. “Almost as much as I like watchin’ you work my cock.”

  “Shit!” I yelp, throwing my head back. Growling low in his throat, Tanner repeats the process. “Ow. That hurts.” Shifting, but not losing his cock, I cover my boobs with both hands.

  “What’s wrong?” Eyes wide with concern, he tries to sit up.

  “My boobs,” I wince, pressing them tightly to my body. “What the hell is wrong with them?”

  “Not a damn thing wrong with them from my end,” he teases, reaching up to cover my hands with his own.

  “I’m serious.” I shake my head and he pulls back his hands. Groaning, I flex my fingers, hoping to ease the ache. “It feels like my tits went ten rounds in a cage fight.”

  “Babe.” His eyes drop to my chest, his hips jerk in response. “Gotta admit, it’s hot as hell watchin’ you feel yourself up.”

  I roll my eyes. “Men are such pigs. Is grabbing my own tit really all it takes?”

  “Quinn.” Hands back to my ass, he grinds himself into me again. Unable to help myself, I hum in appreciation of the fabulous pelvic friction currently working against my clit. “I see you, my cock’s rock hard. Simple as that. Right now, I’ve got you on my dick, bein
’ cute as hell and giving me shit about how much I want you.” Hissing out a breath, his grip tightens on my ass. “Need you to know that willpower keepin’ me from puttin’ you on your back and fuckin’ you ‘til you scream the walls down is razor thin.”

  “Really?” Placing my hands on his chest, I lean in. “These are all very interesting pieces of information I may or may not use at my discretion in the future.”

  “Quinn.” My name is both a curse and a warning. I love it. Tanner being so close to snapping is sexy as fuck. Almost as hot as when he does.

  “Tanner,” I taunt, my smile nearly splitting my face. “You think I’m cute?”

  “Fuckin’ Christ,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “Got my dick buried deep. Pussy’s wrapped around me so goddamn tight I’m ready to blow and you want to play twenty goddamn questions. Babe, you’re killin’ me.”

  “Fine.” Raking my nails down his chest and abs, I give in to the tempting friction and begin moving my hips faster. “But,” I pant, my eyes beginning to flutter closed at the intensity of everything building inside me. “For the record, I don’t hate the way you look at me either.”

  “Fuck,” he growls, making me jump. Moving quick, he flips me to my back, pinning me beneath him. His eyes spark wickedly. One hand on my hip, he moves the other to my face, his fingers at my jaw. “Warned you, little girl.” His tone darkens, though his playful grin stays firmly in place.

  “You did.” Sliding my hands up and around his shoulders, I dig my nails into his back and rock into him. “Hmm. I can’t say I’m disappointed with how this worked out,” I admit, my grin mirroring his.

  “Me neither,” he breathes, slamming his lips to mine and officially losing the last of that razor thin willpower. Exactly like I hoped he would.

  His hips surge forward, driving into me hard. Grabbing onto my wrists, he pins them above my head. My back arches, chest pushing upward, pressing tightly to his. Our bodies tangled, wound around each other. Connected. Complete.

  The power of each controlled thrust sends the headboard slamming into the wall, the loud thumps setting a rhythm. Breaking our kiss, Tanner buries his face in the crook of my neck, his harsh breaths rushing over my skin. “I was wrong,” he bites out, his lips pressing just below my ear. “This.” Thrust. “Is.” Thrust. Grunt. Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Heaven.”

  His teeth graze my earlobe, my hips jolting in response. Our bodies slide together, responding and moving in time with each other perfectly. The melody of the moment drowns out anything else. The notes a mix of our combined heartbeats and mingling sounds of pleasure. My mind is quiet for the first time in so long, giving way for me to feel and experience something I had no idea I could need so much.

  “You feel this, Quinn?” His lips at my ear again, words warming me like a shot of tequila.

  “Yes,” I mewl, clawing at his back.

  “Givin’ you all of me, babe.” His thrusts are urgent, pushing me higher. Driving me closer to the edge. “You want that?”

  “Yes,” I plead, ready to fall apart at any second.

  “You beneath me,” he bites out, bucking into me wildly. Dark heated gaze boring into mine, he hovers over me, lips a breath away from mine, fingers tightening on my wrists. “Taking my cock. Filling my ears with sweet little moans I feel in my balls. All I’ve ever fuckin’ wanted, babe.”

  “Tanner!” His name tears from my chest, my body splintering apart around his.

  His eyes spark. Chest heaving, Tanner turns animalistic. Our mingled grunts and moans echo off the walls. “Fuck!” Thrusting deep, his lips go to my neck, sucking in a patch of skin, savoring every second of his release.

  Rolling us, Tanner drops to a hip, his breathing starting to regulate. He tips up my chin with two of his long fingers, smiling when the pad of his thumb skirts the edge of my kiss swollen bottom lip. Sighing contently, I settle against him, unwilling to leave his arms just yet. Arm banding around my middle, nose in my hair, he breathes me in, making it very clear he has no complaints staying right where we are.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sandy Ass

  Quinn

  When Tanner and I finally manage to get out of my bed, we get dressed and head downstairs to round everyone up for an update. “Gather ‘round, guys!” I shout, heading to the fridge for a bottle of water. “Family meeting.”

  “Let me guess,” Bristol mutters, striding into the room, with E and my brother following not far behind her. Flashing me a knowing smile, she braces both hands on the countertop of the kitchen island and studies me carefully. “You’re pregnant?”

  “Hardy har, asshole.” Leaning back against the fridge, I toss the cap from my water at her and guzzle half the bottle. “I talked to Vicki.”

  “Fun.” Her brow raises. “Did you tell her I say hi?”

  Ignoring her, I launch into recapping the phone conversation. None of them say anything while I speak, which is shocking as hell, given none of us like Vicki, or the way she always seems to tear into us any chance she gets. I fully expected Bristol to rant and rave like a fucking lunatic before grabbing her phone to give Vicki a piece of her mind. The guys all pretty much mirror the same stance. Each of them leaning against a different wall, arms crossed over their chests, brows pinned, jaws tight.

  “She with Boyer now?” Greer asks, checking his watch.

  “Meeting is first thing in the morning she said.” Shrugging one shoulder, I finish off my water and toss the bottle into the trashcan beside me. “No clue if she went to him sooner.”

  His jaw tightens at my answer, nostrils flaring like a raging bull about to charge the Matador. “She calls you back,” he grounds out, pushing off the wall. “We talk to her as a group.”

  “My phone may or may not be upstairs smashed to shit at the moment. I think it’s safe to say no one’s calling me until I get a new one.”

  “You broke your phone?” Bristol asks, though she doesn’t sound shocked.

  “No,” I reply. “It exploded. A lot like my brain wanted to do.”

  “Oh God...” Pressing her fingers to her mouth, she heaves. “Why would you throw out that visual? You don’t see me talking about how your impregnated vagina is going to stretch to the size of a freaking dinner plate.”

  “Stop it!” I yell when all eyes in the room drop to my crotch. “My vagina is not a group discussion topic.”

  “You may not think so,” she sings out, tapping her nose with her index finger. “But all the details of your juicy biz are about to be thrown out all over the dot com.” Flashing me a smile, she gives me a mock salute. “Welcome to the club, sunshine. I wonder what your hashtag will be.”

  “I don’t give two shits if my face is all over the internet,” I toss back honestly. “Let the rumor mill spin until those bastards puke on their telephoto lenses. What worries me is Vicki’s plot to use this whole shit show to get us booted from Frayed Edge Records.”

  “Exactly.” Greer clears his throat. “If she can actually manage to get Boyer and the board to terminate our contract where does that leave us?”

  “Hell if I know.” Bristol shrugs. “I never assumed that would be the card she’d try to play. Our contract isn’t up for at least another couple years.”

  “They can’t do shit without consequences,” Tanner barks. “Besides, Boyer isn’t stupid. He knows AWOL is a cash cow.”

  “You gonna say it to him just like that?” B asks, arching a brow.

  “Pretty sure cocky isn’t the way to go about it, sweetcheeks.”

  Tanner looks my way, his deep browns heating in response to my comment. “Big difference between cocky and confident, babe.” His lips pull up into an arrogant smirk. “I think you’re pretty damn educated on which one of those two I am.”

  “You assholes are determined to make me puke today,” Bristol groans, tugging her hands through her long dark hair, before pulling it up into a bun on top of her head and securing it with a band from her wrist.

  “Sounds like it’s
time to put a call in to that lawyer of yours,” E chimes in, turning the subject of discussion back where it needs to be.

  “Absolutely.” Bristol nods. “But not before we put in a call of our own.” Lacing her fingers, she cracks her knuckles. “To Logan Boyer.”

  “You’re seriously calling Boyer?” I ask, not sure what to think about my best friend side-stepping Vicki before the meeting they have planned.

  “You bet your ass.” Yanking out her phone, she winks at me. “Vicki doesn’t call the shots. Boyer does. I refuse to let any of the conversation get lost or miscommunicated during the handoff.”

  “It probably also doesn’t hurt to call him up before bringing in that thousand dollar an hour lawyer we’ve got on retainer,” Greer says, siding with Bristol.

  Pressing a few buttons, she sits her cell down on the counter. It rings three times before there is a click. “Good afternoon, Frayed Edge Records. Mr. Boyer’s office, this is Angie. How can I help you?”

  “Good afternoon, Angie,” Bristol says warmly. “Can you please tell Mr. Boyer Bristol Lachlan is calling. It’s important I speak with him immediately.”

  “Right. Uh. Um.” Angie clears her throat, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. I would be willing to bet the video has made its rounds at the entire office. Hell, they probably made popcorn and organized a group screening in the conference room. “One moment, Miss Lachlan. I’ll see if he’s available.”

  “I think you just made her piss herself,” Evan chuckles, coming up beside her to take the empty stool at her left.

  “Whatever,” she mutters, narrowing her eyes at him. “It’s not her I’m focused on.”

  “This is Logan Boyer,” a clipped male voice snaps into the phone. “What can I do for you, Miss Lachlan?”

  “You’ve got all of us, Mr. Boyer,” Bristol says, looking around the room at each of us. “We’re calling to clarify some things Victoria Brandwell has been so kind to pass along from the conversation the two of you had earlier today.”