Swerve: Boosted Hearts (Volume 1)

by Sherilee Gray

  Her breath seized, pulse starting to race. She took him in. His fingers were curled into fists, clenching and unclenching at his sides. He looked tense. He also didn’t reach for her, still not even attempting to touch her.

  “Okay.”

  She got to her feet, and he headed for the stairs, leading her up to his bedroom. His shoulders were stiff, forearms bunched tight. What the hell was going on? He said he wanted her here, that having her here improved his shitty day, but he was acting as if—she didn’t know what this was.

  He pushed the door open, and she spotted her pretty polka-dot bag sitting on his bed. A huge California king. The bed looked wrong—too masculine with its navy-blue comforter and chunky, dark wood bedside tables—against the faded, peeling, floral wallpaper. The floor was hardwood but in need of sanding and finishing. He’d obviously gotten as far as pulling up the old carpet.

  “I’m gonna go lock up.”

  The butterflies in her belly erupted at the sound of his retreating steps. What did she do now? Calm down, for starters. Grabbing her toiletry bag, she went in search of the bathroom. It was just down the hall. She washed her face and brushed her teeth then went back to his room. He still wasn’t back. It felt weird just stripping off and getting into his bed. But she hadn’t brought her PJs. She hadn’t thought she’d need them. Now she wasn’t quite so sure.

  She went to his dresser and grabbed the first T-shirt she could find. It was gray, faded and soft and smelled like Hugh. She quickly stripped off and pulled the shirt over her head then climbed under the covers and waited.

  He seemed to take forever. Then she heard him moving around downstairs, and when he did finally come up, he went straight to the bathroom. He wasn’t in there long, though, and she couldn’t help but shrink under the blankets when his massive body filled the doorway.

  His eyes said it all.

  Oh, yes. He definitely wanted her there.

  Things heated up down below—they’d been at a low-level, delicious hum since she’d walked in the front door, but now, with that look… She was on fire.

  He didn’t say a thing, just stared at her as he reached back and yanked off his shirt. She stifled a moan at the sight of his bare chest, all that thick muscle, the dark hair dusting his pecs—that enticing trail that stopped at the top of his jeans. She dropped her gaze as his fingers went to work on the zipper, and this time, she did moan. His erection was heavy and thick through the soft denim, and she unconsciously licked her lips as he slid down his jeans, freeing that beautiful cock.

  He shoved off his jeans, kicking them aside, and before she knew what she was doing, she’d shoved back the covers and climbed to her knees. The soft fabric of his shirt swamped her, felt delicious against her hard nipples, making her squirm.

  He started toward her but stopped in his tracks suddenly. “What are you wearing?”

  His voice was nothing but grit and the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. She looked down at herself. “I didn’t think you’d mind?”

  He made a rough sound. “I don’t.” He came closer, so he was standing at the edge of the bed. “Come here.”

  She moved toward him on her knees until she was in front of him.

  He gripped the bottom of his shirt, eyes locked on her the whole time, and dragged it up and over her head. “You can wear it whenever you want, but right now, I want you naked.” He cupped her breasts in his huge hands. “Wanna watch these bounce while I’m buried inside you, when I fuck you nice and hard.”

  Her nipples puckered tighter. Hugh was intense—she’d learned that much in their short association—but tonight, he was even more so. She shivered.

  He dragged his thumb over a tightened peak, and she shivered again.

  “You like that? You want me to fuck you hard, use my size, my strength to get you off? Work this lush body any way I want?”

  She squeezed her legs together and licked her suddenly dry lips again.

  “Answer me.”

  “Y-yes.” She didn’t know what was going on here, why he was acting this way, but she loved it.

  “Good girl.” His hand slid up to the side of her neck, and he gave her a little squeeze, thumb sliding over her jaw. “Now, get on your hands and knees for me. Before I let you bounce on my cock, you’re gonna let me fuck your mouth.”

  Oh, God. She scrambled to do as he said. She wanted to take him in her mouth, badly. He was so tall that even on her hands and knees, him standing beside the bed, she was perfectly lined up with his massive erection. He was so hard, his penis stood straight up against his stomach, the head fat and purple. She tilted back her head and looked up at him. His nostrils flared as he brushed back her hair then fisted it and moved closer. Grabbing his cock with his free hand, he angled it down, so the head brushed her lips.

  “Let me see that little pink tongue. Lick it,” he rasped.

  She did, darting out her tongue to taste him, moaning at his decadent taste, so dark and erotic. She lifted a hand and slid it up his thick length. Pre-come leaked onto her lips on an upward stroke, and she lapped it up on a needy groan. If she didn’t need a hand to hold herself up, she’d reach down between her legs and work her clit; that’s how turned on she was.

  “Fuck.” His grip tightened. “So fucking greedy, aren’t you, princess?”

  She was. She wanted more, but he held her back with his unrelenting grip, controlling how much of him she could have.

  “You want more?”

  She nodded, moaning helplessly.

  “Open your mouth for me then, open those sweet lips,” he growled. “You’ve never sucked a cock like mine, have you, beautiful? Those soft, fucking innocent lips weren’t made to suck a man like me. A man like me shouldn’t come anywhere near someone like you. But I’m a bastard like that; I’ll take it anyway, and I’ll enjoy every damn minute of it.”

  A man like him? She didn’t know what he was talking about. And he wasn’t taking a damn thing. She’d never wanted anything more in her life. She opened her mouth, and he pushed past her lips, farther still, ‘til he reached the back of her throat. She hollowed her cheeks as best she could and sucked his length, rubbing her tongue against the thick, pulsing vein on the underside.

  He growled and finally let her move, using his grip on her hair to set the pace. “That’s it, let me corrupt that sweet, innocent mouth.”

  She worked him as best as she could, sucking and licking, feeling frustrated that he wouldn’t let her move faster. She wanted to devour him. She cupped his testicles, squeezing them gently, massaging, and he cursed a blue streak. They drew up, and, God, she felt him grow thicker in her mouth. He held her still and started moving his hips faster. Knowing she caused that reaction, that she was making him this out of control, made her hot in ways she’d never imagined possible.

  He loosened his grip. “Gonna come. You don’t want it down your throat, pull away now.”

  She didn’t pull away; she slid her free hand up to his butt and dug her fingernails in, sucking harder. His grip immediately tightened again, and he pumped that big cock into her mouth, shouting as he came. It hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed him down, everything he had.

  When he pulled his cock from her mouth, her eyes widened. He was still hard. She lifted up, rose to her knees, watching as he walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in. Back against the headboard, he reached over, shoved open a drawer, and pulling out a condom, rolled it on. His gaze lifted to her.

  “Come here, Shay. Not finished with you yet.”

  Everything tightened—her nipples, her belly, her pulsing sex. She crawled closer, so turned on she could barely see straight.

  His gaze moved over her face, down to her lips. “Like that, the way your lips are swollen, the color of cherries from sucking my cock.”

  “I love it, too,” she whispered.

  His nostrils flared. “Get on. Get your reward.”

  She lifted her hands to his shoulders and straddled his hips, groaning when the head of
his cock slid against her slick opening. She reached between her spread thighs, held him in place, mouth opening on a cry as she sat down, taking him as deep as he could go.

  “Ahhh.” Her head tipped back. “Feels so good.”

  “Fuck yeah, it does.”

  Then his hands came down on her hips, slid around to her ass, and he used his strength to lift her and slam her back down. She screamed. So good. Her inner walls struggled to take all of him but took all of him, anyway. With how wet she was, she had no choice. She’d never experienced anything like it. So incredibly good.

  She ground against him, but Hugh took over, lifting her then bringing her down hard enough to make her teeth rattle. He fucked her hard, harder than she knew was possible. In a way she knew she’d be feeling for the rest of the week. She loved it.

  “Your ex fuck you like this, princess?” he growled.

  Shay shook her head and cried out when he went impossibly deep.

  “No?”

  “No,” she half yelled, half screamed.

  “I’m not a nice guy. Don’t fuck like a nice guy,” he bit out.

  She couldn’t process what he was saying. She couldn’t think. Could only feel.

  “Touch your clit,” he growled. “Make yourself come.”

  She dug her fingernails into his shoulder with one hand to hold on and slid her other hand down between them and started circling her aching, swollen clit. Her inner muscles clamped down hard, and her head dropped back. “Ahh, yes.”

  “Jesus, I can feel your tight little cunt squeezing my cock. Come for me, princess. Let me see it.”

  One of his arms slid around her waist, holding her upright as he pumped up into her hard and fast. The pressure built until it was unbearable. She screamed his name, begging, pleading, a second before her orgasm tore through her. Hugh’s grip tightened then he flipped her onto her back, and while she was still coming, he rammed back in, pounding into her, hard, jarring thrusts, using her body the way he wanted to get himself off. It was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced.

  Then his cock started pulsing inside her, he shoved his face against her throat and growled through it. She clung to him, running her hands over the wide expanse of his back, little moans escaping with every slow glide as he wound them both down.

  Finally, he collapsed to his side and rolled onto his back. Pulling off the condom, he dumped it in the trash by the bed then rolled back. Sliding his arm around her waist, he dragged her in close, tucking her into his side, and held her there, as if he thought she might get up and go. As if that were even possible. Her legs were like spaghetti.

  He was quiet for the longest time. She struggled to think of something to say. What did you say after an experience as mind blowing as that?

  Finally, he gave her a squeeze and whispered. “Sleep, princess.”

  After what they’d done, she didn’t really have any choice. She slept.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shit, her ass felt good pressed against his dick. Perfect.

  He held one soft breast in his hand, hard little nipple against his palm. Yeah, shit, that felt pretty fucking good, as well. Shay was still asleep; he could tell by the way she was breathing, the crazy-cute mewing sounds she made every now and again. He’d spent enough nights in her bed to know the difference. He liked that he knew the difference. Too damn much.

  This was the first time a woman had spent the whole night at his place. He’d never had a woman in his kitchen, cooking him food—and he sure as hell never had a woman show up at his door with an overnight bag. Even now, her toothbrush was sitting on his bathroom cabinet. He liked that, too.

  She wriggled her ass, and he groaned.

  He liked all of it. Liked her in his house, his kitchen, his bed. Seeing her clothes in his room. When he’d opened the door and saw her standing there on his doorstep with her bag, that open, beautiful smile aimed at him—it had messed with him. Fucking unhinged him. Seeing her there, in his house, had changed things for him. He’d tried to fight the feeling, the feeling that this was where Shay belonged. That he wanted her there with him every day. In his bed every night.

  And when he’d walked into his room and had seen her in his bed, in his shirt, he’d known in that moment he didn’t want to let her go. That knowledge scared him. He’d tried to fight it, had fucked her in a way he’d wanted to since the first time he’d laid eyes on her, in a way he’d decided he never would because Shay didn’t need to see that side of him. The part of him he was sure would scare her away. That pissed-off, dirty-mouthed asshole with a self-destructive streak a mile wide.

  But last night, he’d wanted that side of him to scare her away.

  Needed it to.

  Because he knew now he couldn’t end this thing between them. He’d thought hammering it home to her, to himself, that what they were doing was only sex, showing her that side of himself, might force her hand. That this sweet, sometimes shy, gorgeous woman would be so disgusted by his base behavior that she’d walk.

  She hadn’t.

  She’d fucking matched him stroke for stroke. Loved every minute of his brutal thrusts, begging for more, for him to fuck her harder.

  He didn’t know what that meant.

  He just knew he wasn’t ready to walk away from her yet. But he also had to keep what they were doing quiet. Until he could find a way to get free of Al, his hands were tied.

  He felt it the minute she woke. She stilled, then her hand slid up over his, the one covering her soft, smooth breast, and squeezed his grip tighter around her. She twisted so she could see him, her silky red hair sliding against his chest. Sleepy, sexy as hell green eyes blinked up at him, puffy suckable lips parting on a sweet moan.

  “Hey,” she whispered.

  His cock, which was already hard, surged against her ass. He had to press closer to stop the ache. “Hey.”

  A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Are you going to do something with that?” She wriggled her ass again. “Or are you trying to torture me?”

  He let his free hand drift down between her thighs and growled when he felt how wet she was. “I’m torturing us both at the moment, princess.”

  She rolled over fully, so her front was pressed to his, and stared up at him. Jesus, that felt good.

  “I’m not really into all that kinky stuff. Torture isn’t my thing.”

  He lifted her bent knee over his hip and tugged her closer. “Me, either.” Then he surged up, sliding inside her, filling her with one quick, hard thrust.

  She cried out, eyes slamming shut, mouth dropping open. Fucking hot.

  “Feel good, beautiful?”

  She whimpered. “So good.”

  He pushed her to her back, keeping one knee lifted to keep her spread wide, and slid back in nice and deep. Jesus. So damn hot and tight and wet. So good he lost control completely and started thrusting with all the finesse of a rutting bull. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the woman beneath him. The way her beautiful breasts bounced with every jolting thrust of his hips, the way she watched him through half-lidded eyes, biting into her lower lip. Shit, he couldn’t get enough of the small gasps and cries that filled his ears every time he pounded inside her.

  Then her head tipped back, neck arching, and she came hard. Her fingers dug into his ass, pussy clutching him so tight, he had no choice but to blow up with her. Shay moaned helplessly as he pumped her full of everything he had, clutched him tighter, grinding up against him, body trembling beneath him.

  He collapsed on top of her, struggling to catch his breath.

  He’d fucked around, had his fair share of women, but nothing had ever topped this. Nothing felt as good as him and Shay when they were together.

  “Hugh?”

  “Shit, baby.” He kissed the side of her neck, her shoulder.

  “Um…Hugh?”

  “Love it when you say my name when my cock’s still inside you.”

  She squirmed beneath him, pushed at his shoulders. He lifted up
so he could see her face.

  “We didn’t…” Her eyes were round, huge. “No condom.”

  What? Shit. How could he have forgotten? “You on the pill?”

  She shoved her hair back from her face. “Yes.”

  Thank fuck.

  “I’ve never gone bareback with anyone else. Ever.” He couldn’t believe he had now. Not once had he been so caught up he’d forgotten to wear a rubber. “Think we’re good.”

  She let out a relieved breath. “Okay. You’re right. It’s fine. And I haven’t…you know, never not used a condom, either.”

  He should be more freaked out, but he just…wasn’t, which was messed up for a lot of reasons. He was just about to kiss the worry from her cherry-red lips when someone knocked at the door.

  He waited. Maybe they’d go away? He hoped like hell they’d go away. But the knocking came again, harder this time.

  “Jesus Christ.” Shoving back the sheet, he grabbed his shirt from the night before, cleaned up with it and tugged on his jeans. “Back in a sec.”

  Jogging down the stairs to the front door, he checked who it was through the peep hole.

  Joe.

  Thankfully, he’d moved Shay’s car last night. He’d hidden it in his garage before he’d come up to bed. Just in case. He yanked open the door. “What is it?”

  “Nice way to greet your baby brother.”

  This was all he needed. Joe and Adam already thought he was playing with fire by spending time with Shay. The less people who knew they were seeing each other, the better, as far as Hugh was concerned.

  * * *

  Shay could hear voices coming from down stairs. Hugh had been gone a while, and she felt weird just lying up there.

  Pulling back the covers, she wrapped the sheet around herself, opened the door and tiptoed to the bathroom to clean up. When she got back to the room, she pulled on some clothes and after tearing her brush though her tangled hair, walked to the top of the stairs. She could see Hugh. He was standing in the living room facing her. Joe stood in front of him, T-shirt pulled tight over his wide shoulders and back.

  “So what the hell are you doing here so damn early, anyway?” Hugh asked, sounding impatient, which made her smile.