Slow Ride Home (The Grady Legacy)

by Leah Braemel

  “Promises, promises.” Her laugh echoing off the stairwell, she disappeared up the last three steps and out of sight.

  He leaped up the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time while undoing his belt buckle, pulling his shirt from his jeans. His dick was wrought iron hard when he caught a glimpse of her luscious derriere disappearing into his bedroom.

  He hopped a few steps, first on one foot, then the other, as he stepped out of his jeans and briefs, his cock grateful for being released from its confines. As he was undressing, he’d dropped the rope so he stooped to pick it up. Upon reflection, he looped one end into a slipknot.

  When he strode into his bedroom, Allie was kneeling on the bed, her hands hidden behind her back, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  “Hey there, cowboy. What took you so long?”

  She was planning something, but what? Maybe she’d found some rope or sash to make good her threat to tie him up?

  She tilted her head as she watched him cautiously approach, her hair draping over one breast like crimson silk. “What’s the matter? Don’t trust me?”

  “Not an inch.” He tossed the rope on the bed. Before she could escape, he bent and caught her over his shoulder, carrying her to the bathroom, her laughter filling the small room.

  Her eyes sparkled once he set her down.

  “I have a confession,” she whispered.

  “Which is?” He bent to kiss her shoulder.

  “I’ve always wanted to be tied up.”

  And didn’t that confession make him so hard it ached?

  * * *

  There was nothing like Ben in full-blown lust—his eyes darkened, his voice deepened, his muscles seemed bigger. He even smelled different. Everything about him was just more. Larger than life.

  There was no need to tell him she’d already showered. What was the point? It would only deny her the experience of running her soapy hands over his pecs, his abdomen. Of wrapping her hand around his shaft and jerking him off until he was shaking. Or getting on her knees at the end and making him sweaty all over again.

  Her eyes traced the rippling shoulder muscles down his arms, where a light tan turned to a heavier farmer’s tan. They stopped on a red streak on his forearm. “You’re bleeding.”

  He glanced down at it as if surprised. “It’s nothing. I was helping a couple of the newbies roll up the wire and a length snapped back on me. I cleaned it up back at the shed.”

  If Lewis’d had such a long or deep scratch, he’d have called an ambulance. Okay, maybe that was mean. But he’d have headed to the nearest urgent care clinic for a tetanus shot. Not Ben. Nothing so paltry as a scratch from a freaking length of rusty barbed wire would slow him down.

  Further evidence of the hard work he did could be found in the half dozen nicks on his knuckles and thick, callused fingers. Callused fingers that could soon cup her breasts, stroke her belly, stretch her pussy and bring her pleasure no vibrator or dildo could match.

  He stepped into the shower and held out a hand. The moment their palms touched, he tugged her beneath the hard stream of the shower and pressed her against the wall. Trapped between the heat of his body and the water, and the cool of the tile at her back, she alternated between shivering and sweating. He swooped down and captured her mouth, his tongue delving deep, claiming, possessing her. Letting her know exactly how much he wanted her, wanted this.

  She gave as good as she got, returning his passion with her own. It had been too long since she’d had someone need her like this, too long since she’d needed or wanted anyone else, trusted anyone enough to let them behind her shields.

  She grabbed a sliver of soap and worked up a lather then slid her palms over his chest, revelling in the muscles in his pecs, the hard strength of his shoulders. She’d seen him easily lift a sick calf across a pasture, haul it onto his horse then ride with it cradled in his arms back to the barn. Gentle strength was such a turn-on. As she pressed her lips against his sternum, she slid one hand between them and wrapped her fingers around the hard length of his cock. He eased back from her, and they switched places so he now rested against the wall.

  “Christ, that feels so fucking good.” He’d closed his eyes and let his head fall back.

  Ignoring the water splashing onto her face, she lowered herself to her knees. She skimmed her nose over his belly, following the thin line of hair from his belly button lower. When she reached the stiff, heavy cock jutting from the thick nest of hair at his groin she tilted her head and lick the long length. With her grasp firm on his hips, she swallowed the swollen head, lapping until he groaned and fisted his hands in her hair, delivering the bite of pain she loved. The pain told her he was straddling the line between rigid control and losing it, a line she loved to push him to, push him past until he lost total control.

  Over and over she teased him, swallowing his shaft down to its root, her tongue swirling circles over the sensitive head. His groans and the tugs on her hair guided her speed and told her exactly what he liked and how fast. She’d long ago learned she loved the control she had over his body with this simple act, loved the power it gave her.

  His limbs were shaking, her hair twined in his fists in tight knots when he finally pulled her off. A whimper of disappointment escaped her that he wouldn’t let her complete his release.

  “There’s plenty of time, but you make me shoot off my load now and the fun’s done for a while.”

  She sat back on her heels and grinned up at him. “Maybe for you, but there’s plenty you can do for me while you recuperate. Like returning the favor?” Going down on her was one of his favorite ways to get her off. Or at least it had been. Maybe he’d changed.

  “Oh, I plan on making sure the favor is returned. Believe me, we’re just getting started.” He ducked his head under the shower and squirted on some shampoo, then quickly rinsed off again.

  The mirror over the sink was covered in steam before Ben shut off the shower. Allie handed him a towel from the rack behind the door, but instead of using on himself, he wrapped it around her. “Can’t have you catching cold, now can I?”

  The brisk scrubbing of the towel over her skin set her nerve endings afire. His gaze was intense, his movements methodical. Focused. All on her.

  After quickly drying himself off, he caught her by the waist, set her on the counter and dropped to his knees.

  With a nudge, he spread her legs, kissed her hip, kissed again just above her mound, then lowered his head until the scruff of his five o’clock shadow scratched her inner thigh. She sucked in a breath, arching when he spread her folds and swirled his tongue across her clit. Carefully balanced between the edge of the counter and the sink, Allie threaded her fingers through his hair, not so much to guide him as to just hold on.

  He knew just what pressure to use to make her body react, until the only thought she had was how she needed to be filled by him—his tongue, his fingers, his cock, she didn’t care. She needed this pleasure, needed this release.

  Between his tongue and his teeth toying and teasing her clit, and his fingers deep in her passage, the first flutters of an orgasm made Allie stiffen.

  “Relax. You’re fighting it. Let yourself come.” His breath was hot on her skin, and the vibration of his words added an extra sensation to her already sensitive tissues. He scissored his fingers inside, twisting them, pressing them against the—

  “Yeah, right there. Harder.”

  “That’s it. God, you’re close, aren’t you? Stop thinking so hard, just feel what I’m doing and forget everything else.” He continued the regular strokes, finding that special spot every time. And then, when she didn’t expect it, his teeth nipped her clit, caught it and tugged.

  Her body reacted, clamping around him, as she shuddered through her release.

  He caught her before she slipped from the counter, held her in his lap until the last of her climax faded. She rested her head on his shoulder. After a moment he easily stood, still holding her in his arms, and carried her into his b
edroom.

  She was a boneless heap by the time he laid her on one side of his bed. Her body still tingled from his attentions, and she watched, quite content, while he stripped the top cover from the bed from the opposite side.

  She blinked at his “lift up.” Nope, her body wasn’t ready to move. She was comfortable right where she was.

  “Like that, huh?” His lips tugging up at the sides, he lifted her and stripped the rest of the cover from beneath her one-handed. “Down you go.”

  Once he laid her back on the bed, she snuggled into the pillow. God it even smelled like him. She nestled deeper, letting his scent surround her. “Comfy.”

  “Good.” He trailed a finger down her arm. “Trust me?”

  “Of course.” She was so languid she didn’t react when he gathered her hands and pressed them together.

  The prickle of hemp on her wrists was the first warning that he’d followed through on his threat of tying her up before he hauled her hands over her head and fastened the rope, binding her wrists to the headboard.

  He wore a look of smug satisfaction when he sat back on his heels. “Shit, you’re sexy all bound up.”

  Arching an eyebrow at him, she tugged on the rope. Nope, he knew how to tie a good knot. She couldn’t stop her ear-to-ear grin as she admitted, “I thought you were joking when you brought in the rope.”

  “I thought I was too, but then you challenged me.” He trailed a finger down her cleavage, drawing circles over her breasts, her belly that left her aching for him to continue. “You know I’m never one to step away from a challenge.”

  She did know he wouldn’t back down. Maybe that’s why she’d dared him.

  If she’d thought he was focused on her in the bathroom, it paled in comparison to the attention he paid to her now. From the long kisses that left her breathless to the way he cupped her breasts, laving them with his tongue, tweaking them until her nipples were taut and her thighs pressed together at the ache in her pussy.

  Every touch of his hands, of his lips, every look in his eyes was pure worship. Not an inch of her body escaped his caresses. Only when she was trembling and begging, her folds damp from need, did he finally settle between her thighs. His gaze blazing hot as it slid over her body, he grabbed a condom from the bedside table. A rip of foil and he quickly sheathed himself then planted his fists on either side of her head and stared down at her, his expression unreadable.

  Allie squirmed beneath him, the head of his cock slipping through her folds, but bound as she was, she couldn’t move down the bed far enough to force him inside.

  “Shh,” he soothed. “I’m getting there.”

  “Then what’s taking you so long?” she ground out. “I need you.”

  Shifting his weight to one arm, he cupped her face in his palm. “If you only knew how many nights I fantasized about you here beneath me again.”

  Oh damn. So much for keeping her romance shields up. His statement cracked them into a thousand tiny pieces. Her chest ached and she blinked at the emotion filling her.

  He released her face and slid his hand between them to place his cock at her entrance. Her body softened at his smooth glide as he pressed inside her. He lowered himself to his elbows and tilted his hips, driving himself deeper.

  “Fuck yeah,” he breathed. The look in his eyes—of need and passion—set her whole body humming.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead and his muscles strained as if he fought the need to move faster than his slow, steady rhythm. Her body sang with each press back inside, her tissues loving the pressure and friction.

  If she hadn’t been tied up, she’d have dragged her fingernails down his back, clamped her hands on his ass and speeded him up. Since moving her arms wasn’t an option, she dug her heels into his thighs and surged beneath him, setting her own pace.

  “Fuck.” He quickened his thrusts. The sounds of flesh slapping on flesh mingled with the scent of their passion, filling the room in a heady, erotic scent. He swore again and banded his cock with his fingers to ward off his climax.

  “Come for me, Allie. Fast and hard.”

  Her body responded separately from her brain, tightening around his heavy shaft, milking him. A slight shift in angle set off another firestorm until she couldn’t draw a breath, her body shaking and her mind blown. In the distance, though he was just above her, Ben grunted his own release. Though she was certain she had no energy left, her body responded again, or maybe it was still the same climax, she couldn’t tell.

  By the time he sagged on top of her, she couldn’t put together a coherent thought, let alone voice a protest at his weight.

  “Hang on,” he panted. He rolled onto this side and reached up to untie her wrists. Once she was free, he lowered her arms and massaged the tender skin to encourage the circulation to return. “You all right, darling?”

  “Mmm,” was the most she could manage. Her eyes had closed, the lids as heavy as if someone had taped them shut. The bed dipped and moved, and footsteps padded across the bare floor, then running water. Moments later, Ben returned and lay beside her.

  Maybe he sensed she couldn’t move, because he half lifted her onto her side and snuggled her, spooning her.

  As tired as she was, her brain whirled at what they’d just done, at the love and tenderness he’d shown her. At the wild side he’d brought out in her. She rubbed the rough spot on her wrist left by the rope. All those years of playing the good girl first for her father, and then for Lewis, had made her wonder if she’d ever let herself find such passion again. She’d been lost for a while and now she was starting to find herself again, accept who she was, what she wanted. All because of Ben.

  “Shh, you’re thinkin’ too hard again,” he whispered, cuddling her closer.

  He was right. She relaxed into his arms and let her mind drift.

  The light outside had faded when she finally opened her eyes, and the crickets’ song filled the silence. Well, them and the sound of Ben’s stomach growling.

  “I need food.” His voice rumbled against her chest. “I can fire up the barbeque. Cook a steak?”

  “You barbeque, and I’ll whip up a salad.”

  “Deal.”

  After a lazy stretch, Allie plumped the pillows, enjoying watching Ben searching through his dresser, especially the way the moonlight highlighted his shoulders in its silvery light. Not to mention what it did to highlight his taut ass. He pulled out a fresh pair of briefs before wandering into the bathroom.

  He emerged wearing the briefs, nothing else. Oh man, he’d just given her how many orgasms and just looking at him could still make her girly parts tingly?

  “Can I borrow a T-shirt and some shorts or sweat pants? My clothes—well, your clothes—are still out on the porch.”

  “Better go get ‘em. If they aren’t filled with spiders by the morning, there’s an armadillo who wanders up on the porch every night who might decide to burrow in them.”

  “It’s a screened porch. How can an armadillo get in if the door is closed?” He had to be teasing. Didn’t he?

  With no trace of amusement in his expression, Ben shrugged. “I have no idea, but he has some secret entrance I haven’t been able to find. Trust me. You leave your clothes out there and he’ll make a nest. Just ask Jake about the time he passed out on the porch a few years back.”

  With a squeak, she scooted off the bed and rummaged through his dresser for a pair of shorts or briefs to cover her ass. Her fingers touched something silky. And lacy. She pulled out a pair of black women’s underwear. How had she missed these when she’d gone through the drawer before? The soft, tender feelings for Ben evaporated.

  Great a grip, O’Keefe. It’s not like you could expect him not to have dated.

  Keep it light. She held them up and forced a smile. “You taken to cross-dressing, Grady?”

  “Fuck. I thought I’d tossed all her stuff.” He snatched the panties from her and tossed them in the trash can by the bed.

  The jealousy crawling insid
e her wasn’t right. It wasn’t. Still, she couldn’t stop from asking, “Her?”

  “Someone else who hasn’t been in this room for over a year. You have nothing to worry about from her. Any more than I’m need to worry about your ex.” He lifted a brow. “Or should I?”

  Where she’d expected to see a hint of laughter there was none. She stroked his jaw. “I’ll admit, I’m a little jealous at the thought of you with someone else, but I wasn’t here and I’d moved on too.”

  It wasn’t like there was any commitment now. They were just scratching an itch. Weren’t they?

  Unable to deal with the questions, she shook her head. “I’d better get those clothes before I forget.”

  Dragging on a well-worn tee and a pair of Ben’s board shorts, she dashed outside and grabbed her clothes, giving them a good shake.

  Ben stood at the bottom of the stairs, still wearing only his underwear, when she returned. He hooked the bottom of her shirt and pulled her against him. “I like you wearin’ my clothes.” His voice was husky, possessive. And proud. “You remember us goin’ to that concert?”

  Allie pulled away and stared down at the faded Aerosmith logo on the front of her shirt. The shirt she’d bought him at the concert they’d attended together. “Oh my God, you still have it.”

  He grinned. “Wasn’t about to throw away the shirt I was wearing when I convinced a girl to go down on me in an elevator. It was the first time I’d ever had elevator sex.”

  “A girl?” Her! “First time you’d had elevator sex... You’ve had—” She held up her hand. “No, forget I asked. I do not want to know.”

  “Good. Because I don’t kiss and tell.” Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he led her into the kitchen. Unlike his bedroom, other than a fresh coat of paint on the walls, this was exactly as she remembered. It had been the center of the household, the family sitting at the table after dinner, Jake and Ben insulting each other, their father and mother laughing along with them.

  “Did you fix this place up or your parents?”