Steel Country Boxset

by Fields, MJ

  “You were gonna tell him?” she whisper-hisses.

  I shrug. “Not sure.” I can’t stop looking at her lips.

  “No, Grayson, you do not want that. You wanted—”

  She stops when I kiss her. Her mouth opens immediately, and I give her a quick lick before grabbing her lower lip between mine and sucking on it. Her hot, sweet breath hits my face when she whimpers.

  I grab her ass and lift a leg, pulling it around my hip. Then I do the same with the other. I kiss down her jaw, her neck, licking, tasting. She tastes fucking good everywhere. I make my way back to her mouth when she clenches my hair.

  I kiss her harder this time. I fucking kiss her because I fucking need to, which is completely foreign to me.

  Another need I can’t ignore is the throbbing of my cock, so I reach down and rub it against her. Then, really fucking slowly, I push in.

  Her head falls back, and she digs her nails into my scalp and whimpers. “So. Full.”

  “That’s just the tip,” I tell her, warning her of what’s to come. “Can’t fuckin’ wait to be all in you. So fucking tight. Fucking hot. Fucking dreamed about this.”

  As soon as those words fall out of my mouth, she releases a held breath, puts her forehead to mine, eyes wide and staring into mine. “Take it,” she whispers.

  “Fucking plan on it.” I grip those sexy, curvy hips and thrust into her fully.

  Her eyes are even wider. Pain? Surprise?

  Fuck!

  “Breathe, sweetheart.”

  Finally, she breathes out.

  “You good?”

  She doesn’t say a word.

  I push my forehead harder against hers. “Speak, sweetheart.”

  She nods, and I start fucking her slow, gentle, while kissing those lips. Finally, she’s moaning again.

  She’s going to ruin me.

  She’s spent, I’m fucking exhausted, but I want more.

  She doesn’t fight it when I carry her out of the water, her hands linked behind my neck. She doesn’t say shit until, “Clothes. Boots.”

  I nod. “Hang on.” I reach down and shove her clothes in her boots. Then I carry her up the fucking dirt road, completely and totally bare-assed.

  When I lay her in the bed, she begins to roll to her side.

  “I don’t think so, Mandee, I don’t fucking think so.”

  She smiles as she rolls onto her back. “Better get a towel. We aren’t in the water this time.”

  “You better not fall asleep, or you’ll wake up to me forcing myself in there again.”

  She smiles. “If I fall asleep, I expect you to do just that.”

  She has ruined me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Body Language

  Mandee

  I wake up sore and completely empty, but I have a smile on my face. I feel next to me then open my eyes when he isn’t there. He’s not, but about twenty red Gerber daisies are next to me. I smile as I sit up, and when I see they make a trail down the bed, I laugh.

  On all fours, I follow the trail that doesn’t stop there, but out the door.

  Excited, I get up and follow them into the kitchen where coffee is made and a flower is next to the pot.

  I pick up the flower and smell it. Then I pick up the hot cup of coffee and take a sip when something at the window catches my eye.

  Grayson is standing in Mags’ window, shirtless. God, I want to look closer just to see if I left bite marks on his chest, possibly tore a nipple ring out, or to simply see the wings that he says are falcon wings, but to me, they are angel wings.

  He gave me the ability to believe that life was still okay to live. That on the gloomiest of days, the worst of my life, it was a blessing to still be alive with that song he sang in the woods. Then, when living simply became existing, even before I knew for sure he was the same man, he made me want more. Now...now he has given me more, so much more.

  He holds up a cup, nods, and takes a drink.

  I can’t help smiling.

  He swallows down his drink and licks his lips. I bite mine, hoping to stop it from spreading into a I-haven’t-had-sex-in-two-years—hell, I’m not sure what I was having back then would even be considered sex after last night when Grayson Falcon, hottest man on earth, rocked my world and every part of me—grin.

  The song, “Body Language” by Gyth Rigdon starts playing, and I look around. I follow the sound to the bedroom to see it’s coming from my phone. I grab it and see the screen has a number, no name, I hit the green message and a text opens.

  - Nothing hotter than you on the dock, except you in the water, or maybe you in the bed. Can’t figure out which it was. Would like to try and figure it out. Liked kissing you. Liked the way we moved. Can you keep up?

  I am now doing it, the I-haven’t-had-sex-in-two-years—hell, I’m not sure what I was having back then would even be considered sex after last night when Grayson Falcon, hottest man on earth, rocked my world and every part of me—grin.

  - Sure would like to give it a try, I type back,

  The song starts again, and I smile when his reply pops up.

  -See you tonight. And Mandee, as fucked up as I was, I know you heard some stuff. Can’t say anything, hot lips, got it?

  - Secret’s safe with me, Gray. But you can talk to me and not just...you know.

  “Speak that body language. Get to know you tonight. Think it might be dangerous if we’re to get it right,” sounds through my phone, and I hit the green bubble.

  - Kind of like to keep all that out of what we got going on.

  - I kind of do, too. But friends, Gray. We were friends, and I’d sure still like that.

  “Speak that body language. Get to know you tonight. Think it might be dangerous if we’re to get it right.” I hit the green bubble.

  - Friends don’t move like we do together. I wanna keep moving with you.

  I want both, is what I want to type back, but that’s not what I agreed to.

  - See you tonight.

  Sitting at Dad’s desk, where I am supposed to be focused on the tasks at hand—checking stock, refilling coolers if needed, counting up the cash drawers from last night, setting them up for the day, and heading to the bank—I find myself spinning in the chair like I used to do when I was here, waiting for my parents to get the place ready for the day.

  When I hear a laugh come from behind me, I quickly set my feet on the ground to stop myself and see both Pearl and Janice in the doorway, spinning a little themselves.

  “Some things never change,” Janice says. I think she’s smiling, but my eyes have yet to adjust. “You used to do that when you were just a little thing.”

  “Used to?” Pearl laughs. “I’ve caught her spinning like that for a couple weeks now.”

  “Have not,” I say on a laugh, defending myself.

  “I’m pretty sure you were spinning last night,” she jokes. “Probably hurt like hell today.”

  Before I am able to say a word, Janice pipes in, “You look exhausted. You should go home and get some rest.”

  “Lots to do,” I say, steadying myself as I stand up. “And I’m actually feeling wonderful.”

  As they both look at me, I bite back a laugh, because their heads both cock to the side slightly, like Tritt’s did this morning when I went home.

  Pearl’s eyes narrow as she looks me over from head to toe. “Something’s different about you—” She stops when Janice elbows her. Then her mouth makes a slight O before a smile creeps up.

  I shrug. “Responsibility looks good, or is it exhausting on me?”

  Janice grabs Pearl’s elbow. “Let’s leave Mandee to it and go get cooking.”

  “It’s Sunday,” I remind them. “No specials today.”

  “We have a whole lot planned here, too,” Janice says. “You let us do our thing, and you do yours.”

  As I finish up with the paperwork, my phone rings. “That One Is My Dad” plays.

  “Hi, Dad,” I answer.

  “How yo
u feeling?”

  “You sound tired,” I tell him.

  “Not used to sleeping away from home.”

  “Is it nice there?” I ask.

  “Same old Joe, same old Lance, same old cabin, same tiny lake—nothing’s changed,” he answers expressionlessly.

  “Give it a chance, Dad. You deserve a break, and to have fun.”

  “Something happens when you get to be my age, Doodlebug.” Now I can hear a smile in his voice.

  “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

  “Joe and Lance are smellier than I remember.”

  “And your dad is more of an ass than we remember,” I hear in the background and can’t help laughing.

  “Promise you’ll try to have fun, regardless of how bad they smell?” I ask.

  “Three weeks of this?” He sighs. “Sure, I’ll give it the old college try.”

  I hear another voice say, “Dad was a stud in college...until he fell in love.”

  Then the other, “Then he disappeared.”

  “Will you two shut the hell up?” Dad snarls at them, and they laugh.

  “A stud, huh?” I laugh myself, shoving the bank bag into my purse.

  “Stud? No. More female attention than these two, because I showered, got an occasional haircut, and didn’t think farts were something you bring to every party.”

  “You sure as hell did until you saw that beauty,” one of them says.

  I hear the sound of a door creaking as it is opened then shut.

  “Idiots,” he mumbles.

  “Not old enough that we didn’t hear that,” I hear one yell, and I laugh again.

  “Wasn’t trying to hide the truth in my words!” he yells back.

  “It sounds like you’re having a good time, Dad,” I say after a minute.

  “Yeah, sure.” He sighs. “And you?”

  “I may have gotten a little drunk last night,” I admit.

  “Yeah, Mandee, I’m aware.”

  “You mad?” I ask.

  “Mad? No. Worried a little, but you were with your friends and Phoenix. Hoping you feel like hell today so it doesn’t become a habit? Absolutely.”

  “Yeah, Dad, I feel like hell.”

  “Good.” He sighs. “Now get to work.”

  “Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you, Doodlebug,” he whispers back.

  When we hang up, for the first time, I think about what it would be like to be in Grayson’s situation. It was unimaginable to me, knowing what Gage and Garrett had been through. Now...now it’s even more so. I understand him wanting them to be happy. In a much different way, I, too, have lived a lie and hidden hurt to protect me. To protect my father. To protect a community who loved my mother, me, Dad, us?

  More imaginable is how hard it would be to hide that secret, and for the reasons he seems to be, from the people he loves. It makes my heart hurt and my head spin. I can only imagine what it is doing, and has done, to him. But I promised him I wouldn’t say a word, and I won’t. Still, I wish he would have that moment, like the one I had. A moment when I wanted so badly to gobble up the words falling out of my mouth, yet it I couldn’t stop them.

  I think about all that Phoenix and Gage, Juliana and Garrett have been through. I think about the hate Phoenix has for Gage’s mother and wish she knew about this. Would she be angrier or sympathize with her, as Grayson obviously has, and I am doing right now?

  Then I think about the fact that Gray doesn’t stay put, but runs when his father mocks him, as if he were weak for trying to make everyone happy. I understand that, I do, but what a burden to carry.

  As he said, he is a man, and like my father, nothing will change his mind. No amount of light shined on the darkness in which his secrets hide will lessen the burden, until something happens that takes him to a place, like I was the day my father and I fought. I pray, when it happens, the outcome will be as good as it seems to be for us. Until then, Grayson and my secrets will hopefully dull the hurt from the others he carries.

  And maybe, just maybe...

  I attempt to stop the way my train of thought is heading, but what a beautiful journey it would take if I only allowed it. But a promise is a promise.

  Walking out of the office, I lock it behind me as I look at my phone. It’s ten in the morning. The bar opens at noon on Sundays and closes at nine, our shortest day. Normally, it’s only Dad and I here, unless something is going on in town. Today, there isn’t anything I am aware of.

  I walk into the kitchen where Pearl and Janice have the stainless-steel island covered in what I know to be leftovers from the reception.

  “You hungry?” Janice asks.

  “Not particularly,” I say when I see the wedding cake that I somehow missed last night.

  “It’s red velvet,” Pearl says, reaching over and grabbing one of the plates covered in clear wrap.

  “I’m not sure that should be—”

  “Red velvet is chocolate,” she taunts, holding it up.

  “Well”—I shrug and pull up a stool—“I suppose I could indulge myself.”

  Both of them giggle then stop quickly when I look up and point a fork at them.

  “I don’t know what you two are thinking, but stop. Just stop right now.”

  “He’s gone one day and she’s already filling those boots,” Pearl jokes. “Comes by it naturally, I suppose.”

  I shove my fork in the cake and take my first bite. “Oh, my God,” I moan as I savor the flavor.

  Someone clears their throat from behind.

  They look up, and I swear I see stars in their eyes.

  “Morning, ladies.”

  It’s him.

  And I’m eating cake.

  At ten in the morning.

  Oh. My. God.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Middle of a Memory

  Grayson

  After breakfast with the entire fucking family, I needed to get the hell out of there. I fucking hate that man, and if there was a stronger word than hate, I would use it on him.

  I had no idea where I was going to go when Mags asked me if I wouldn’t mind grabbing her serving set that she forgot at the bar.

  Not going to say I wasn’t a little worried Mandee might get the wrong idea about this little secret of ours, what with the fucking flowers and coffee this morning, which I regretted immediately after walking out of Phoenix’s and locking the door behind me, until I saw her at the window. Now the regret in showing up here, for Mags, is gone at hearing her moan as she eats cake.

  “Good morning, Grayson Falcon.” Pearl smiles.

  “Thanks for the dance last night, Miss Pearl.” I wink.

  “Second best dance partner I’ve ever had,” she tells me.

  I try to focus on her, but I see Mandee straightening in her stool. That thick, rich chocolate hair hanging down not only looks soft, but I know damn well how it feels in my hands, against my body. I want to wrap it around my hand...again.

  “So, he dances and sings?” Janice looks at me and smiles.

  Mandee still hasn’t said a word.

  “Mags said something about a cake serving set?”

  “I think it’s in the dining room.” Janice looks at Pearl. “Come help me find it?”

  “We’ll have it out on the bar,” Pearl calls behind her as they exit the kitchen.

  I look back and watch them walk away. Then I walk over, grab a stool, and drag it behind me slowly toward where Mandee, who has yet to turn around, is sitting. Don’t know why, but watching her grow more and more tense does something to me.

  When I sit down, she glances over then looks down at her cake.

  “Is it still as good as it looked last night?” I ask.

  She nods and swallows before saying, “It’s delicious. Would you like a piece?”

  When she starts to stand, I put my hand on her knee, stopping her. “I’m not sure.”

  “No?” Her voice quivers a bit.

  “Looking at it, I want more,” I say, allowing my hand to ri
se up her knee a little. “Just not sure I could take one little taste and not need to bury my face in it.”

  Her face flushes and her eyes widen as I travel up farther.

  “Fucking love the taste of cake, Mandee.”

  She swallows hard and raises a finger that has frosting on it. “It’s really good.”

  I use my free hand to pull it toward me then lick the frosting. “It is really good.” Then I suck on her finger.

  Her mouth opens and shuts a few times as I swipe my finger across the cake then hold it up to her mouth.

  “Fucking loved your lips wrapped around my coc—shit.”

  “I’m sorry. Oh God, I am so sorry,” she says after unclamping her teeth from my finger. I can’t help laughing as she starts kissing it. “I bit your finger.” She blushes as she smiles and laughs, too.

  “You must be hungry,” I say, pushing her hair away so I can see her face, knowing I like the way she looks when she tries to hide.

  “Yeah, story of my life.” She rolls those big, brown doe eyes at me.

  “Mine, too,” I admit.

  She laughs. “What?”

  “I have an unreasonable affliction for chocolate,” I tell her. “Makes everything better.”

  She smiles and holds up a forkful. “Then, by all means, eat and don’t stop until you, too, have love handles.”

  I run my hand up the outside of her shorts as I take a bite and give her waist a squeeze. “Really like having this to grip while fucking—”

  I stop when her eyes widen in either terror or shock. Not sure which, but after I swallow down the cake, I take the fork and load it up, holding it to her mouth. “It’s sexy as fuck, Mandee. Christ, eat cake.” I shove it in her mouth then lean forward and lick the frosting off her lips. Then I kiss her quickly, because I fucking like kissing her, too.

  I force myself to stop and stand up. “What time you free tonight?”

  “We close at nine,” she answers.

  “Good. You grab two pieces of that when you leave, and I’m gonna make a meal out of you at nine fifteen.”

  Her mouth and eyes widen in sync before I turn and walk out the door, leaving her just like that.

  Fucking hot.

  I spend the day avoiding him and everyone else who may catch on to what I am doing. I fucking hate that Gage looks at the man like he’s a fucking saint, and I hate that Garrett is trying his best to do the same.