by S. E. Hall
Yeah, I won’t hold it against her if she ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ over the backyard. Other than on the ice, it’s my favorite place to be… so to blame her, should she be impressed, would be all kinds of hypocritical.
Turns out though, my worry’s for nothing, and the “hunch” I’ve had since first laying eyes on her proves its validity once more; any and all doubt vanishing… for good. Not an act, Gracie truly wouldn’t notice, or care, if every damn wall in here was painted neon green and there were disco balls dangling from the ceiling, flashing and twirling to the beat of a really bad porno soundtrack. She’s not even a little bit interested in my house, and damn sure doesn’t care about the backyard. Her eyes are trained solely on me.
I’m right about her, dammit. I know it as sure as my own name.
Gracie Bolton is something, someone, special. Worth spending the time to explore, and get to know… inside and out.
Chapter One
Brewer
A gulp visibly works its way down her throat while uncertainty flickers in those big brown eyes… but she only leaves her misgivings exposed for a split-second… quick to recover. Her sweet, plush lips start to curl at the corners, in invitation, and her gaze is now half-lidded, and beyond certain. “What’s, uh, next?”
“Come here, Gracie.” I emphasize with a slow curl of my finger.
“I am here.”
“If you were here enough, I wouldn’t have said it. Closer. Now.”
Well, well… she liked that; the assertiveness in my deep voice, telling me so with her tiny gasp and the freshly-stoked fire in her widened eyes. Not to mention, she immediately, without thought, takes the step needed for our bodies to touch.
“Arms up,” I order gruffly, my dick hardening as she once again, instantly, instinctually, complies. Eyes on hers, I pull her shirt up and off, tossing it aside, and dipping my head to get my first taste of her. Neck, shoulders, and cleavage, all delicious, I take off her bra, then drag myself away from my sampling to look. She’s gorgeous. Fucking flawless. Skin warmed by a slight blush, natural, ample-sized tits topped with small, rosy nipples, a flat, toned stomach, and the most beautiful part of all… an understated innocence to her wicked allure… that’s reeling me in fast.
She whimpers softly, a shiver rippling through her whole body as she waits out my scrutiny. “Cold?” I tease, not waiting for the unneeded answer before again finding her flesh with my mouth, kissing my way lower.
She first jolts from the sensation, but just as quickly, relaxes into it, letting out a long, mewl. “Ohhh,” she purrs aloud as I learn her chest — hands perfectly filled with her perky rack — sharing my mouth between both budded nipples. “Brewer,” she begs my name in the sexiest damn rasp I’ve ever heard, prompting me to suck harder and lick faster until her hands leave my hair and the peel of a zipper echoes through the room.
Oh, hell no. With a quick snag of her eager hands, I stop that bullshit cold, forced to break suction on my mouthful of tit much sooner than I’d like. “Look at me.” Her honey-brown eyes slowly travel up to mine, lazy and glazed over with delirium. “I will be stripping you, my beauty. At my pace. I won’t be robbed of a single second with you. So when I let go of your hands, they best not touch your clothes. Not kidding, Gracie, not even a little.”
“Okay, whatever you say, just hurry,” she pants her impatience.
“I’ll do no such thing.” I wink, keen to the fact she likes it when I do, and release her hands… sliding my own down to the waistband of her jeans. Inching the denim off bit by bit, I follow the same path until I’m on my knees, contradicting my just-said words by rushing my way through this part — shoes, socks, and jeans flung… who the hell cares where — lace thong ripped clean off with one anxious yank.
“Damn,” I breathe.
The woman is a T. K. fucking O. — knocking you flat on your ass and making you like it — built to drive a man, this man, out-of-his-mind wild. Dainty and feminine in all the right places; curvy and womanly in the others… exactly what I like, where I like it… as though crafted by a guide of my mind’s blueprint.
Once my eyes have raked the length of her, several times, they plant and stick on the sweet spot between her thighs. She’s sensual and delicate, thinly veiled by a single strip of hair, wanting and so ready. Swollen, glistening wet… and stealing my control with the heady scent of her arousal.
“Grab something,” I rumble a warning, her shaky hands finding grip in my hair as I hoist one of her legs up and over my shoulder. Without further notice, hesitation, or permission, I use both hands to spread her pussy wide open, dragging a huge inhale of her intoxicating aroma before licking her from dripping core to throbbing clit.
“B, Br, uhhh, Brewer…” It’s one long, incoherent moan, a melodic sound, as exciting as her body curling toward me.
“Ask me, Gracie,” I command, warm and heavy on her sensitive flesh. “Ask me for what you want.”
“More,” she puffs.
“More what?” Easing one, then two, fingers inside her, a tortured groan rips out of me. She’s so fucking snug around my fingers, the mere thought of how damn tight she’ll wrap up my cock has me rock-hard and downright fuck hungry. “You want me to eat more of your sweet pussy? Eat you until you come? Get you nice and slick, relaxed, help you take me easier? Or do you need me inside you now? Maybe you want the sting of being stretched by my cock? Tell me, babe. Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”
“Uh huh, yes, that.” I chuckle at her breathless, senseless, precious reply as I withdraw my fingers, lower her leg, then stand.
“Open,” I grunt, her eyes bulging in shocked understanding as that pretty mouth obeys, lips parting to suck in my offered finger. “Fuck yes, Gracie baby,” rolls off my tongue in depravity, my eyes locked on the dance between her mouth and my digit. “You taste yourself, thick and sweet?”
Despite the embarrassment heating her cheeks, she nods… and sucks harder.
One by one, I’m gradually peeling back the layers of Gracie Bolton, making my way to the sexy center. I’m doubtless that beneath her “ladylike” exterior lies a vixen; a vixen I can’t wait to meet, expose, and explore.
Taking her hand in my free one, together, we rub the aching erection trapped inside my jeans. She hums, swirling her tongue along and around the finger still in her mouth, and squirms in anticipation.
“Okay, greedy girl,” I laugh. “Up the stairs, third door on the left. I’m gonna stand right here and watch your fine, bare ass while you walk away, but I won’t be far behind ya. And when I get there, I want to see you sprawled out on my bed, waiting for me, with your legs spread as far apart as they’ll go. Will you do that for me, Gracie?”
She bobs her head, then turns and starts walking the second I take back my finger. And though I’ve never cared to notice before — but when it comes to Gracie, won’t ever miss it — I watch with rapt interest, how each firm, phat cheek rises and falls with every step taken. Very nice. I want to chase her down and pounce, stare at that delectable ass jiggling for me as I pound into her from behind, but manage to resist… drudging up remarkable patience from places unknown. Giving her plenty of time to get settled, calm and comfortable, before pursuing her. But a man can only take so damn much, and soon, I’m on the prowl… only to be stopped mid-step and speechless when I catch first sight of her.
Fuuuck. Hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen — Gracie, stretched naked across my bed, legs bent up and back — on display for me. I move in closer, shins bumping against the railing, to take a really good look.
“You. Are. So. Fucking. Sexy, Gracelyn. I mean it, baby. You”— I gulp — “you’re a goddamn game changer.”
And there you have it, exactly what I just blurted like a pre-pubescent fool — shot, goal, game — the sappiest thoughts, let alone actual words, to ever emasculate my brain… put right out in the open.
Where she could fucking hear me.
Couldn’t be helped. Something about this woman has me wand
ering aimlessly into new territory… completely, willingly undone. And when I dare let my eyes veer up to find hers? The tender, warm affection therein, and the small, flattered smile on her angelic face makes my spontaneous, somewhat embarrassing, outburst worth it… and then some.
Oh, but I’m not done yet. Nope… before I even know it, I’m spouting off again. “Just so we’re clear, you’re mine now, Gracie. I’m keeping you. As long as you’re here in Lake City, you’re here with me.”
She’ll probably fight me on that particular demand later, perhaps even try to escape (which won’t work for her), but for now, she’s only worried with perching herself up on her elbows and slowing her breathing. Enough to say, in the cutest little whisper, “Brewer, please…”
The corner of my mouth twitches with primal pride, and as smokin’ fucking hot as it is to hear her beg, the patience I somehow conjured up is now running severely low. “Please what?”
“I’ll…”
“Not move another inch,” I growl, effectively freezing her in place. “I’ll come to you.” I start to… Oh, for fuck’s sake, never mind — no dicking around with buttons if you just rip your shirt open. Everything else not a problem, I’m down to just my boxer briefs within seconds. I yank those motherfuckers off too and climb onto the bed, slowly moving up and over her until I’m braced on my knees, straddling her chest.
“Let me taste you,” she urges, breath choppy, my dick jerking in willing response.
Now poised on only one elbow, she takes me in her right hand, and I lower my gaze to watch as she licks her lips and lowers her head. All but out of reach to barely slide the tip of that heavenly tongue through my pre-cum, I can’t stop my faint laugh, and groan, at her tiny huff of frustration.
“Here, baby, I’ll help you, if you really want it?” My hand’s in gradual motion, giving her time to convince me before I reach the back of her head… to prop it up for her.
“I…” she pokes her tongue out again, straining to reach me, “can’t,” she groans, not the good kind, shaking my hand away to flop her head, and self, back down on the pillow. “Brewer?”
“Gracie?” I tease through an unkept laugh — she’s just so fascinatedly animated — and absolutely adorable.
“I haven’t given, um, fellatio, since… huh, I honestly can’t remember… but I’m positive, whenever it was, I wasn’t a double-jointed contortionist then, nor am I now. So, work with me? Please?”
Not in the habit of humor while my dick’s hard, out, and inches from a beautiful woman’s mouth, I’m surprised to hear myself I burst out in full-blown, from-the-gut laughter. So much so, my whole body’s shaking as I climb off her. “Ah, Gracie,” it’s still a tad chuckled — “you’re something, baby girl. Something… extraordinary.”
She smiles up at me, then rearranges herself onto her hands and knees, motioning for me to stand at the side of the bed. “Much better.” The authentic excitement is matched by a little shimmy of her perched-in-the-air ass.
I grab my cock, so she can’t, yet, using my other hand to tilt her chin. “Side note, I don’t want to hear about your past… experiences… with anyone who wasn’t me ever again.”
Her lids droop lazily over now-smoky eyes, another tell that she liked my snarled, possessive demand as much as she does when I wink or crook my finger at her. “You got it,” she murmurs, then wraps that glorious mouth of hers around the head of my dick.
Chapter Two
Gracie
All right… I’m really doing this… sucking an almost stranger, revving up to the big moment, and the beautiful ache he’ll leave between my legs… for days after he leaves.
Me.
Gracie, “Always-Prim-and-Proper, Color-in-the-Lines,” Bolton.
Damn, shouldn’t have thought about it — now I’m nervous — which is why I slide my mouth off him, and call out for the help I still suspect does exist.
“Alexa, play the song with the lyrics ‘fuck you like an animal!’” The dirty beat immediately starts booming through the room, house; “I knew it! ‘Only woman in this house is me,’ huh? You do have Alexa streaming. If you were wearing pants, they’d be on fire.” I poke him in the chest.
His eyes taper, an anger glowing through the slits. “Alexa,” he gnarls. “Stop. Playing.”
“Hey, I’m only kidding; I don’t think bad of you, Mister Techno. No need to turn off the animal-sex-we’re-about-to-have-soundtrack.”
He doesn’t reply immediately, instead silent as he maneuvers me as if a weightless rag doll giving himself room to rejoin me on the bed… settling under the covers. Meaning, of course, he’s now covered. “Come here.” He flops one giant, muscular arm out to his side, which I assume is for me to lay my head on… so I do. “Closer? Nine Inch Nails? That’s your song choice?”
He turns his head and stares toward me, as he growls.
“What? I was just trying to, um, set the mood is all.”
“Whose mood? Damn sure not mine, and just a wild guess, but I’m betting you’ve never heard that song.” I pin him with what I hope is the universally-understood look for ‘really?’ then ask the same aloud. “That’s what I thought. So why pick it? Why even think of it? The one line of it you know anyway.”
I try sitting up, only to fail, refused by the constriction of his arm around me. “Why’s it matter? I’ve heard of it. Anytime “nasty sex songs” are the topic or question, that and “Pony” are everyone’s answers, so…” I shrug as much as his hold allows. “I picked it. Mostly because, gah, are we not all sick to death of “Pony” yet? Either way, and again, why are you making this a thing?”
“Because, I have heard it, and I’m not okay with ‘the mood you set’ being that of me violating or desecrating you. And these are just the two specifics used that I can remember. Fuck only knows what else it says!”
I laugh… to his extreme disliking, the daunting glower he wears definite confirmation. “Brewer, you’re reading way too much into this, this, non-issue. And I gotta ask, I realize I’m no well-practiced expert or anything, but, is this normal? A man, putting his dick away, over a song choice?”
My breath whooshes out of me in surprise as he once again manhandles me to his will, that being, apparently, to have me straddling atop him, legs on either side of his hips. “I don’t give the first shit about the song itself, Gracie. I do, however, very much care what it said, about where your head’s at.”
“Where my head’s at now? Because right before your, whatever this is, my head was bobbing up and down… while I was sucking your dick.”
“No, you’d stopped, to make your request.” He hitches one flippant brow. “And… It’s not gonna work,” he states with a solemn intensity that elicits goose bumps all over my, lone still bared body.
My disbelieving jeer’s loud and bitter. “Well, alrighty then. Your call, weirdo. Thanks, I guess, for your blunt honesty. Saves time I suppose. And so, if you’d now be so kind as to unhand me,” I aim my glare at his hands, digging deeper into the flesh of my hips, “I’ll grab my clothes, and an Uber.”
Or… not?
I’m really starting to resent his size, almost as much as his poorly explained mood swing, having just been steamrolled onto my back, left looking up at the scowling mammoth hovering over me. “I not make myself clear about keeping you, or did you think I was joking? Because I wasn’t.” With his forehead pressed to mine, his snarl’s hot and close upon my lips.
Merely for the sake of show — a show of protest — well aware the act’s in vain, I give a double-handed shove to his chest… his uncovered chest… a fact still unrealized, by him. “You seemed normal, dammit! I should’ve known it was too good to be true.” My laugh’s brittle. “As if, Gracie! A safe, steamy, weekend rendezvous with an unbelievably gorgeous, charming, mountain of a man? Who was I kidding?”
“Yourself, but in an entirely different way. Reason the song pissed me off? I know what you’re doing, well, trying to do, and like I said, it’s not gonna work.”
>
“And like I said, get the hell off me and I’ll be leaving,” I bite with deadly venom. “You no longer wish to uh, be with me. Got it! And… likewise. Now move!”
“Which one of us is talking crazy now? ‘No longer wish to be with you?’ Who said that shit? Wasn’t me. Oh, and your ‘likewise?’” He grins, rubbing his nose along mine. “You’re kidding yourself again. You can’t wait for me to take you, make you come, over and over. Plus, you know I’m safe, and that it’ll be steamy. That’s not where you are, Gracie. Think, deep down, you know that too.”
I… have absolutely no idea what is happening, or what he’s talking about.
“Settle the hell down and I’ll explain,” he chuckles his reply to my obviously, mistakenly, voiced thought. “If I move, you gonna stay put, listen to what I have to say?”
“Yes,” I heave. “But only because you’d have me recaptured before my feet even hit the floor.”
“That, you got right.” He leans in, kissing the end of my nose before resituating himself beside me. “Look at me, Gracie.” When I do, slow and stubbornly, he hits me with a smile so kind and tender, that no matter what he says next, the beautiful image will forever remain burned into my memory. “You chose the raunchiest song you could think of for one very specific purpose; to try and trick yourself into believing you’ll make it through this unscathed. Normally, I don’t analyze the inner-workings of the women I fuck. Then again, I don’t normally fuck women like you.”
“What kind of woman am I?” It’s purposefully snippy — he knows nothing about me.
Presumptuous ass.
“You, Gracelyn Bolton,” he uses one roughened fingertip to trace my jawline, “are the kind of woman who will never be able to have physical without at least some emotional too. And the fact that you’re already subconsciously safeguarding yourself against the inevitable… worries me.”