Spin (Boosted Hearts Book 2)

by Sherilee Gray

  God, she wanted to be his.

  Finally, he pulled back, eyes searching hers, hands cupping her face. “You ready to go?”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and let everything she was feeling for him in that moment shine though. “Take me home, Joe.”

  His slid his thumb over her cheek. “Whatever you need, baby.”

  Then he grabbed her hand and led her from the club.

  ~ * ~

  Joe didn’t know what the hell had happened between leaving Darcey curled up in bed and now. But something had caused her to seek an escape. When he’d finally found her back in that club, he’d nearly lost his goddamn mind.

  Thankfully, this time, she hadn’t been drinking. Shit, the woman was still in her running gear.

  What the fuck was going on?

  He glanced at her again, trying to read her. He’d never seen that expression on her face before, so he had no hope of deciphering it.

  She was starting to scare the hell out of him.

  Whatever had driven her into that place was a lot more than just missing her brother, he knew that much. He’d wanted to drag it out of her, make her tell him what was wrong. But he knew her well enough now to know she wouldn’t give him a damn thing, not until she was ready.

  Waiting her out was getting harder and harder, though.

  Staying back and not dragging her into his arms as soon as he’d found her in that club had been bad enough—but now, with the way she was gripping his hand while he led her up the stairs to her place, the way she leaned in like she was seeking warmth—it was fucking killing him.

  Darcey was tough as hell, and right now, she was seeking comfort from him. The kicker was he didn’t know how the fuck to give it to her. Which demons she was fighting. He just wished she trusted him enough to let him in.

  He took the key from her trembling hand when they reached her door and let them in. Then led her straight to the bathroom. If she was cold, he wanted to warm her, get close to her, take care of her. That’s what Darcey needed tonight. She needed to let go, someone else to do the thinking, to take charge for once. He wanted to give her that freedom, even if it was only for tonight.

  He turned on the shower, then stripped. She watched him, her eyes wide, haunted.

  Jesus. He was a mess of emotions. Red hot rage pounded at him, urged him to hurt whoever had done this—mixed with the unstoppable, almost fierce need to protect, to take care of the woman standing in front of him. His woman.

  “Come here, sweetheart.” She met him halfway, and he stripped her down, as well. “Turn around.”

  She did as he asked, and he removed her hair tie so her long dark hair fell free, sliding down her back. Tonight she seemed so damn small and fragile. Just looking at her made his chest ache.

  Taking her hand again, they climbed in. He turned her around so the water soaked her. Then he moved behind her, squirted some shampoo onto his palm, and started massaging it into the soft silky strands.

  She moaned softly, leaning into him, but didn’t speak. She’d barely said a word since they left the club. He’d let her have her way. If she needed to not speak, he’d give her that—for now, at least.

  “Tilt your head back, Peaches.” He rinsed out the shampoo and got to work on the conditioner.

  His dick was impossibly hard by the time he’d finished washing her hair, but he ignored it. His dick would have to get over it. Tonight wasn’t about sex, it was about giving the woman he loved the comfort she needed.

  The woman he loved.

  Well, fuck. There was no denying it. He loved her. Had loved her for longer than he’d allowed himself to acknowledge.

  He couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest, burying his face against the wet skin at the side of her throat. Shit, his whole fucking body trembled, his knees weaker than he’d like them to be. God, what she did to him…

  He kissed her neck, and stepped away before he did more than just hold her. Grabbing the soap, he lathered up a washcloth and began running it gently over her body.

  It was torture, but he could deal. No sex. Not tonight…

  She turned in his arms, pressing her soapy tits against him, her soft belly cradling his aching dick, and looked up at him.

  He had to lock his knees so he didn’t fall on his ass.

  “I need you,” she whispered, then pressed her cheek to his chest before turning her head and kissing him there.

  “Darcey…”

  “Please.”

  With that one word, all his resolve washed down the drain. He was so damn weak where she was concerned, would give her almost anything she wanted. But when she reached for his cock, it wasn’t fucking easy, but he stilled her hand and shook his head. Instead, he gently pushed her back a step so she was leaning against the tiled wall and dropped to his knees.

  He looked up at her. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

  Her lids lowered—her hand going to the side of his face, thumb moving over his cheek in a way that made his chest feel tight—and did what he asked.

  Leaning in, he nuzzled her, drawing in her scent, then gripping her hips, he sucked the sweet, soft skin just above her clit. He moved in closer, feeling fucking near drugged, dizzy. His heart pounded as he shuffled forward on his knees, worshiping this woman, his woman, with his mouth. Carefully, he lifted each of her thighs over his shoulders. Gripping her ass cheeks tighter, he slid his tongue through her slick lips, over her tight opening, groaning at her taste. He couldn’t get enough. Never enough.

  Growling, he yanked her closer, letting go, giving, taking what they both needed right then.

  Her body arched against the tiled wall, her hips shifting restlessly as he ate at her like a man possessed, like a man deprived for the longest time. His dick was heavy, as hard as goddamn iron. Reaching down, he wrapped his fist around it and started jacking, lost to her moans and whimpers, her gasps and cries. A sob wrenched from her throat suddenly, and then she was coming against his mouth.

  Oh shit. Oh fuck.

  Perfect. She was so fucking perfect. He stroked his cock faster as he sucked her swollen clit, lapping her up until she was panting and shaking.

  Finally, he pulled back on a grunt, close to blowing. He squeezed his dick tighter.

  Darcey was down on the shower floor with him before he knew what was happening, pushing him back so he was on his ass, back against the wall, and took over. He should’ve stopped her. Shit, he needed to. But when her slender fingers gripped him tight and she started working him, all he could do was beg her to go faster. Her other hand went to his drawn up balls, cupping them.

  And just when he didn’t think it could get any better, she locked eyes with him, bent down, and drew the head of his cock into her mouth, sucking him to the back of her throat.

  He bucked, shouted, then came like it was the first time he’d ever had a woman suck his dick—blew so hard he was seeing stars. When she’d wrung every last drop out of him, she crawled up onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  They stayed like that until the water started to cool, until he could hold his own goddamn weight again.

  He switched off the water, and after drying her off, took her to bed. Then he held her in his arms so damn tightly, he was surprised she didn’t complain.

  But she didn’t.

  She turned in his arms and held him back.

  Just as tightly.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Joe growled, then whined. “Where the fuck are you, woman? My dick’s hard. We’ve talked about this before. If I have a boner, it’s your job to get on it as fast as you can, remember?” He sighed dramatically. “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you trying to hurt me this way?”

  The bathroom door opened, and Darcey, dressed only in a pair of panties, walked out and shook her head at him. “My God, you’re a brat.”

  “But my balls ache. Come make them better.”

  “Wow. Really?�
��

  He kicked the blanket off and raised his arms, beckoning her to him. “Get over it already. The thought provoking, insightful shit that comes out of my mouth on a daily shouldn’t come as a surprise to you anymore.”

  She snorted. “‘My balls ache’ is not thought provoking.”

  “I beg to differ.” He reached down and gripped said balls, giving them a squeeze, and threw her a wink. “You should be thinking about all the ways you want to please me. It’s not every day you have a sex God in your bed. You should totally make the most of it.”

  That wasn’t exactly the truth. He had been in her bed every day—or at least every night—for the last week. Since he found her in that club and brought her home. She still hadn’t opened up to him—was keeping whatever went down that night to herself—but he got the feeling it was only a matter of time. He goddamned hoped so, anyway.

  They’d gotten a lot closer. They’d also been going at it like horny toads all damn week and still couldn’t get enough of each other. He’d purposely kept things light, fun. His brother gave him a lot of shit about never taking anything seriously—about being a clown. But he’d happily play the fool all day long if it made Darcey laugh. He loved the sound of her laugh. He’d been working hard to get her to smile ever since he carried her out of the shower, trembling in his arms. Scaring the shit out of him.

  She was watching him, and for a split second, her smile slipped, but then it was back, brighter than he’d ever seen it. “You’re right.”

  He frowned. “I am?”

  “Yes. Miracles do happen.” She opened the cupboard, pulled out a jar of honey and placed it on the counter. “It’s true, it’s not every day I have a sex God at my disposal.” She slipped her thumbs down the sides of her underwear and slid them down her legs. “You should totally be worshiped.”

  Joe’s dick jumped enthusiastically. “Um…is this a trick? You’re not going to pretend to worship me then punch me in the nuts, are you?”

  She made a tutting sound. “Would I do that?”

  He loved when she played with him right back. When she allowed herself to have fun. Her cheeks flushed when she was like this, her eyes getting brighter. Beautiful.

  He covered his junk with both hands and mock cringed. “No?”

  Without another word, she strode toward him and climbed onto the mattress, that jar of honey in her hand. Straddling his thighs, she twisted off the lid and dipped her fingers inside.

  She shook her head as she smeared some on his chest. “Why would I hurt something I get so much pleasure from?”

  Then she leaned in and lapped it up.

  Nice.

  She did it again, this time drizzling it across his nipple. He held his breath when she came back in for cleanup. She flicked her tongue in a way that he felt in his dick.

  “Ah…yeah. That’s uh…shit. That’s nice.”

  “Thought you might like it.”

  “As always, you were right, baby.”

  She chuckled against his skin. “Can I have that in writing?”

  “Right now? You can have anything you want.”

  She carried on, drizzling and licking until he was squirming and panting. Her breath fanned over his lower belly, and he held his when she let drops of sticky honey land on his balls.

  “Do they still ache?”

  He groaned, mouth opening then closing, but nothing was coming out. All he could do was nod furiously. She giggled and he fucking loved it. She ran her tongue over his nuts, sucking gently until his eyes were rolled so far back in his head he was pretty sure he was looking at his brain.

  “Furrrgh…ahhhh.” Nope. Not words.

  “Hmm? What was that?”

  She looked up at him, a terrifyingly innocent expression on her face—and then the witch licked down between his balls, giving his ass some attention while she wrapped her hand around his dick and gave it a sharp tug.

  He nearly came of the bed.

  Reaching down, he grabbed her under the pits and yanked her higher so she was straddling his thighs again.

  He grabbed a condom and quickly gloved up. “Get on.” Words!

  The teasing look had fallen from her face, and in its place was a heat that matched his own. She lifted her ass, fisted his cock, and took him deep without hesitation. And fuck, she was wet. Drenched and hot. So damn tight. He gripped her hips when she started moving, riding him like no one else could. No one compared to Darcey—in any way. None.

  “Gotta say I’m a fan of this Winnie the Pooh fetish you got going on, Peaches,” he panted. “You can slather me in honey any damn time you like.”

  She stilled, blinking several times. “I don’t have a Winnie the Pooh fetish.”

  “Damn, don’t stop. Bounce Tigger bounce.” He lifted his hips, thrusting up hard so she did just that. “After all,” he rasped. “Isn’t that what Tigger’s do best?”

  She bit her lip, face going pink for a second before she finally lost it and burst out laughing. Somehow, they kept at it, fucking and laughing and kissing at the same damn time.

  When they finished, they lay side by side, panting and snickering still.

  “Just so you know, if you ever call me Tigger again, I will punch you in the dick.”

  “Noted.” He ran a hand over her back, marveling at how smooth her skin was.

  “Glad we cleared that up.” Her hand slid down to his ass, and she gave it a squeeze. “You need me tonight? Or is Adam taking your back?”

  He shook his head, swallowing down the guilt. He’d lied to her. When she’d finally gotten pissed about him doing it all on his own, he’d told her after Adam found them together that morning, he’d confessed everything and his friend was helping him again. It was all bullshit. Adam still didn’t know what he was doing and he wasn’t going to find out, either. It was the only way he could think of to make sure Darcey stayed out of it, away from the line of fire, from any risk. “I’m covered, babe.”

  She actually looked disappointed.

  “I’ll come here after though?”

  “Yeah. I’d like that.” Then she leaned in and kissed him, sweet and soft, making his heart pound and warmth spread through him in a way he was getting used to.

  They kissed for a while longer, like a couple of teenagers making out on her parents’ couch.

  Finally, he forced himself to come up for air. “You wanna go out and get something to eat?” It was after midday and they hadn’t eaten a thing since the night before.

  Her belly rumbled as she shook her head.

  He slapped her butt and chuckled. “Busted. I totally heard that.” He climbed out of bed. “You don’t get another round with the sex God until you’ve eaten.” He shook his ass at her as he headed to the bathroom. “But first I need to clean up. Some chick with a Pooh Bear fetish smeared honey in my ass crack.”

  Then he ducked into the bathroom, narrowly missing the pillow flying at his head.

  ~ * ~

  Joe pointed his fork at Darcey. “Why are you playing with your food?” He frowned at her. “You gotta stick it in your mouth and chew, not move it around your plate and peck at it like a sparrow.”

  Darcey scowled at him. “I’m not doing that.”

  She was doing that.

  Joe knew this because he was obsessed with all things Darcey Connors. This last week, she hadn’t been eating, not enough for him anyway. Which was another reason he’d dragged her out of bed and to his favorite diner to eat.

  “Prove it.”

  “That was lame, even for you.” She snorted. “You’re going to try and use reverse psychology on me now?”

  He shrugged and shoved a piece of steak into his mouth. “Is it working?”

  “You’re a control freak.” She dropped her fork and sat back.

  She wasn’t playing anymore. In fact, she looked kinda pissed. “Darcey…”

  “I’m not that hungry, that’s all.”

  “You’ve been pecking at your food all week.” He took a sip of his coff
ee and held her darkening gaze.

  “What? Now you’re my mother? Watching every-damn-thing I put in my mouth? A bit extreme, don’t you think, Joe? Especially for a guy I’m only fucking. You’re not my goddamn boyfriend.”

  Ouch.

  And…what the fuck?

  They’d been laughing and joking one minute, now she was pissed and lashing out. The woman was all over the damn place, and as much as her words stung, he knew there was more to this than him trying to get her to eat.

  “What’s extreme, is your reaction. I’m merely showing concern over your lack of appetite, not debating the status of our relationship.”

  The color drained from her face. “Look…whatever. I’m not hungry. Just get off my case.”

  He put down his knife and fork and reached out, taking her chin between his thumb and finger. “What’s going on, Darce? Please, will you just talk to me?”

  She jerked back, eyes darting around the diner—anywhere but at him. “You know what’s wrong. I want my brother back.”

  Joe shook his head, done waiting for her to open up. “It’s more than that. There’s something else that’s bothering you.”

  “I told you…” She stood suddenly, throwing her napkin on the table. “There’s nothing wrong. Just drop it, okay?” She lifted the strap of her bag over her head.

  He stood, as well. “What are you doing?”

  “I gotta go. Maybe I’ll see you later.”

  Then she turned her ass around and walked out.

  Like fuck.

  Joe pulled out his wallet, threw down some bills, and took off after her.

  He caught up with her on the street, and grabbing her arm, pulled her to a stop. “Don’t just fuckin’ walk off like that.”

  She tried to wrench free, and he gritted his teeth against the pain it caused. The way her rejection goddamn stung. He loved her, for fuck sake. But she wasn’t there with him. And going by this latest blow up, she wasn’t even close to returning his feelings.