by Gynger Fyer
“No problem, you can get it in a moment. Are you okay, Miss Hughes?”
Grace wasn’t sure what to say, as the sheriff looked pointedly at her.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m fine.”
Her words were slightly hesitant since she didn’t know why the question was being asked.
“Do you feel threatened or need help, Miss Hughes?”
It finally dawned on her; the sheriff thought she was being manhandled.
“Wait, you think Brett was…I’m sorry, sheriff, but Brett would never harm me. Just look at him.”
At that moment, they both looked over at Brett, who was scowling. The sheriff gave her a look which said she wasn’t convinced.
“Okay, so he is looking a bit upset but that’s because he doesn’t know what’s going on.”
“So, you are physically fine and are not being held against your will?”
The sheriff’s eyes scanned her body for any signs of foul play. Grace just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She’d been all game for some foul play before the sheriff pulled up, in fact, the fouler the play, the better.
“No, ma’am, I am most definitely here of my own free will.”
As if noticing her embarrassment, the sheriff grinned slightly. “Thank you, ma’am, you would be surprised at how many women are assaulted on our highways. I had to check.”
She sighed with relief as the officer ushered her back to the car. Brett was looking at them expectantly.
“Would you mind explaining to me why you just swerved out of your lane, cutting off a semi-truck without using your signal light, then hopped out of your vehicle in an aggressive manner and started engaging in what could be viewed as a lewd act in public?”
Damn, Grace wanted to say, come on, lady, cut us some slack, this is The Wolf. Then she remembered how many times she had cursed celebrities for using that very same tactic to get out of things ordinary people would get ticketed or arrested for.
“I apologize, sheriff, my girlfriend here just gave me some good news and I got a little carried away.”
“Must have been some pretty good news. It looked like you two were starting Mardi Gras early,” she responded, turning towards Grace with one eyebrow raised.
Grace cleared her throat and pulled out her purse as Brett stood to the side, his eyes sparkling with mirth. She fumbled in her purse and produced her Florida driver’s license. As the sheriff looked it over, Grace turned her eyes on Brett, only to see him smirking at her. He thought this was funny. She caught him waggling his thick, chestnut eyebrows at her and crossing his eyes. She stifled a snicker but some of it came out anyway, bringing her the unwanted censor of the sheriff. If they ended up on the news because of this, it would serve him right.
“Miss Hughes, is everything okay?”
Grace looked at the woman and smiled. The sheriff eyeballed the interior of the SUV. She couldn’t tell if the sheriff was messing with her, or thought there was another problem. She erred on the side of caution.
“Yes, Sheriff Williams,” Grace said the name she read on the sheriff’s badge. “I am wonderful. Brett was just being spontaneous, that’s all. He can be intense at times, but how could any woman say ‘no’ to that face?”
At that moment, they both looked at Brett who flashed a silly grin and crossed his eyes, making himself look goofy. They all burst out laughing.
Chapter Four
Brett was back on the highway, and the traffic had picked up as they began heading into New Orleans. The sheriff had decided against ticketing him. Instead, she asked if Grace could take a picture of them, which she was happy to do in lieu of getting a ticket for performing lewd acts in public. Brett had also autographed a Chick-fil-A napkin for the sheriff’s son before climbing back into the SUV.
Grace waited until they were going at a reasonable speed before she burst out laughing. He loved the sound of her laughter. He joined in, too.
“You know you almost got me arrested, right?” He tried to look innocent.
“What? I was just trying to cross that off on your bucket list.”
“You know good and well getting arrested is not on my bucket list!”
“Oh, I must have gotten yours mixed up with Tia’s.” She slapped his thigh.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“For being a smart ass!”
“Yeah, but I’m your smart ass.”
He tossed it out there, wanting to see what her response would be. Would she be willing to discuss their future and explore the possibilities of them having a relationship, or would she try to down-play what she had disclosed earlier about wanting him.
“So, I’ve decided on a way that I can have fun and still keep my self-respect.” Grace’s voice held a teasing air as she looked at him.
So she was going to down-play it; disappointing, but not altogether unexpected. He knew she tended to gloss over things she didn’t want to discuss, especially if they involved relationships. Ordinarily it would have pissed him off, but they were passing over Lake Pontchartrain and even her unwillingness to discuss her earlier admission of wanting him could not tamp down the excitement he started to feel.
It had been years since he’d last been to Mardi Gras. There was something magical about the event, something that made you lose your inhibitions. He would use that to his advantage. No matter how she wanted to sweep them under the rug, he would eventually win her over. Hell, she was already his, anyway, even if she was crazy as hell.
She’d shown him a side of her personality he never knew existed. He was actually turned on by her descent into madness. Sure, it pissed him off that she was being irrational and acting jealous, but he realized, even if she was too stubborn to acknowledge it, she was only being that way because she cared for him.
She wasn’t able to discuss a relationship with him right now and that was okay. She’d given him all the encouragement he needed to stay the course. He decided to take the verbal olive branch she was extending and went along with this new topic.
“Oh, really, and just how are you going to have fun at Mardi Gras and still keep your self-respect? If I’m not mistaken, the reason we are here is so you can lose some of that self-respect.” He chuckled as she scowled at him.
Damn, she was cute, her pretty eyes and thick, suck-able lips could turn him to mush.
“I’m not going there with you.”
She undid her seat belt and twisted until she was halfway in the back seat. His hand was itching to smack her delectable bottom, tightly molded by her knee-length leather skirt, but she plopped back in her seat before he got the chance. He took one look at her face and roared with laughter.
She sported what was supposed to be a black mask. However, the thing looked like a butchered piece of cloth that had holes cut into it at odd angles. She looked adorable as her lips turned into a pout.
“What’s so funny? This is a genius idea. Now, I don’t have to worry about showing up on ‘Chicks Gone Crazy’ or some other reality show.”
“Grace, where did you get that thing? Is that a butchered do-rag?”
Her nose crinkled. “What do you know about a do-rag?” Her eyebrows quirked in question and her plump lips pursed.
He knew he would get her with that one. “I own an auto detail and repair shop. Some of the guys like to wear them. Not to mention they make great props in wrestling.”
“Humph. At any rate, this is not a do-rag. It happens to be a wrap scarf. See, these sticky tabs hold it in place.” She attached and unattached the sticky fabric to show him how it worked.
“Baby, you look like yourself with a mask on. Just like all people in disguises do. If you do show up on ‘Chicks Gone Crazy’—which I doubt because that franchise died out a long time ago—your parents will still know who you are.”
The black cloth hit him on the side of his head and fell on the seat.
“Hater!” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest and turned away.
He continued to laugh.
Chapter Five
Brett located the stately Devereaux Hotel. The lobby of the hotel looked regal with its gold marble pillars and burgundy antique furnishings. They received stares from several people, but Grace was not sure if it was because they recognized Brett or just thought they were an interesting pair. She didn’t have time to dwell on it as they were immediately called to check in.
Grace gave the receptionist her confirmation number and was prepared to check in using her card but Brett had them switch it to his American Express Black card. The receptionist took one look at Brett and the card, and began typing furiously.
“Is this your first time staying with us, Mr. McAllister?”
“Yes, it will be our first time here.”
“Well, as it happens, we have a double suite available for you and your assistant in our presidents’ wing.”
Graces eyes got round at the word “assistant.”
“I’m not his assistant,” she replied with indignation.
“My apologies, we get celebrities here all the time with their assistants I just thought...well, never mind what I thought.” Her café au lait-colored face brightened.
“I think you and your…guest would be more comfortable in that set of rooms.” She eyed Grace with a look of envy, even though the smile never left her face. "I would be more than happy to upgrade you at no extra charge.”
Grace stood next to Brett, fuming. She didn’t like how the woman had said “guest” either, as if she were some hooker off the street. The reservation had been in her name, not Brett’s; but once he took out his fancy black card, she ceased to exist. It was all about Brett now.
She was just about to give the woman a piece of her mind when Brett glanced at her.
“I think you will need to ask my fiancée that question; after all, she was the one who made the reservation,” Brett said, while looking the woman straight in the eye.
There was no way she would turn down a suite regardless of how crazy the receptionist was. She looked up at him and he winked at her. She smirked back at him and then looked at the tight-faced receptionist.
“The suite will be fine.” She smiled smugly. All of a sudden the woman was having a problem looking her in the eye. A bellhop in burgundy uniform ushered them to their suite to get settled.
Grace was floored by the opulence of the décor. She had stayed at nice hotels before, since travel was sometimes a part of her job. However, this hotel was fit for royalty. There was a living room, dining area, and two separate bedrooms, and all of the rooms were very spacious. The Devereaux Hotel was one of those boutique hotels, so she’d expected small beds and dainty chairs that would break if you looked at them the wrong way. She would have been comfy, but she knew Brett, with his massive build, would be like a bull in a china shop.
The suite was laid out in an open floor plan with enough room to entertain at least ten people if they wanted to. Grace was relieved that they could both enjoy their accommodations.
She went into the first of two bedrooms, the dark, wooden, double doors opened directly to a massive king-sized bed that had her stomach catching as images of her and Brett entangled in the sheets quickly passed through her mind. Lord, the things she wanted to do in that bed… As if her thoughts had beckoned him, Brett strode into the room, his energy adding to the already tense, sexual vibrations in the air. She shook herself trying to get her mind off of the sexy images. However, her overactive imagination was dead set on producing, directing and starring them both in scenes which would make an adult film star blush. She needed to keep moving.
She removed her focus from the bed with its crisp white bedding down to the plush carpet on the floor. She loved soft carpet. She immediately bent down, unzipped her boots and stepped out of them. The thick carpet felt amazing under her feet and she reveled in it with a sigh.
Grace decided to check out the view, which was partially hidden by the gold curtains covering the French doors leading to the balcony.
“I call dibs on this room,” she tossed over her shoulder.
She noticed his vision was on the bed and the look in his eyes could have burned a hole through it.
Her nerves started to get the better of her and she quickly retreated out to the balcony. There was an amazing view from the wraparound balcony which they could access from the master bedroom.
To her surprise, the air was warmer than it should have been for this time of year. She was going to have to change into something cooler before they hit the town.
There were plenty of people milling around below the black wrought iron balcony. The cacophony of voices and activity below mesmerized her; there was so much to see and do. It was almost like sensory overload. This was going to be an awesome trip.
The bed had Brett’s undivided attention from the start. He just knew a place like this would have antiques all over the place, but all of the furnishings looked solid. Good, because he planned on fucking Grace on every one of them. If he got his way, and he normally did, Grace would be his woman by the time this trip ended. He planned to leave his mark on every part of her delicious, chocolate-colored skin. He noticed how quickly she moved out onto the balcony. He figured she was nervous. It was time for him to make his move before she found a way to stall.
Grace was on the wrap-around balcony looking down at the drunken revelers. Her feet were bare and the pink sweater she wore over her mock turtleneck had been discarded. Her soft, feminine curves drew him like a siren’s song. He loved her body, full on top, then tapering down into narrow hips.
Coming up behind her, he placed his hand on the balcony railing, caging her in. Her body stiffened in surprise.
“Brett, what are you doing?” she questioned nervously as she tried to turn around.
“Did you mean it?” he asked, deliberately being vague. The best way to lower her defenses was to get her talking.
“Mean what?” Her voice held confusion.
“What you said about wanting me. Did you mean it?”
He moved one hand from the railing and pushed her hair back and away, exposing her pretty ear and neck. His lips searched out and found the side of her neck just below her ear and kissed it softly. She shivered and gasped; her breathing picked up as his tongue licked her neck. She tried to pull away but he had her locked firmly against his body.
“B-B-Brett…” She stammered his name. He was not sure what she wanted to say but whatever it was, ended with a moan. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his lips.
“Your neck tastes so good, I wonder what the rest of you tastes like. Are you going to let me find out?” His tongue snaked out and flicked her ear lobe before he drew it into his mouth and sucked.
“Brett, please…” Her voice was more of a whimper than a plea for him to release her.
He released the lobe and proceeded to plant wet kisses along the column of her neck just above the top of her turtle neck. She turned her head to the right, giving him more access. It was all the invitation he needed. He brought both hands up to her soft, yet firm breasts, tweaking her big nipples with his fingertips. He loved her thick nipples. They always appeared when she was near him, like full-on head lights, daring him to caress them, taste them. He planned to do all of that tonight and more. Fuck… She was rubbing her ass against his crotch like she was trying to make a home there.
The moaning sounds she made had him so fucking turned on he was in jeopardy of forgetting his own strategy. In many ways she was in complete control because he was totally out of his depth. He was used to being confident with women; they were always there, offering themselves to him. He knew he could have them; his efforts at seduction were minimal at best.
With Grace, nothing was a guarantee. He would have to make sure she was so far beyond the edge of reason that she couldn’t do anything but allow her true nature to take control. Heaven help him if he allowed the accountant to show up. She would withdraw from him in an instant and his path would be harder than ever. He was no longer willing to ta
ke one step forward and two steps back.
He wanted to pull her back into the room, but instinct told him not to waste time. The black wrought iron railing with its intricate fleur-de-lis pattern hid them in plain sight from the swarm of people below.
“Let me help you cross off a couple of more things on your list.”
Brett used his hands to ease her skirt up her thighs. His hand sought out and found her soaking wet core through the satin of her panties. The material was damp with the delicious honey from her sex and he had only just begun. The stroke of his fingers along her clit had her moaning and panting. It was music to his ears.
“Brett, what if they see us.” She squirmed in his arms in a meaningless attempt to break free. The modest part of her personality tried to mount one last offensive, but he could tell it was half-hearted at best.
“Nobody’s paying us any attention baby, just relax and enjoy. Don’t think, just feel.”
He moved the crotch of her panties to the side and finally made contact with her moist flesh. He racked his fingers over her clit as if he were running them over the teeth of a comb. Back and forth he strummed, refusing to let up. Grace moved her hips enticingly; her head fell back against his chest as he brought her pleasure.
He whispered naughty things in her ear as he moved with her. Grace’s breathing came out in heavy pants.
“Grace, do you want me?”
Using his middle finger, Brett played around her flooding entrance, only slightly penetrating her with the tip. She was so tight, he could only imagine how snug she would fit him. He cursed under his breath just thinking about it. Grace was dipping her hips trying to impale herself on his finger. She still hadn’t given him an answer and if he went too much longer, he would be beyond caring about her reply, but this wasn’t some soon-to-be forgotten fuck for him.
He needed her to acknowledge her true feelings for him and accept that he wanted her in return. He purposely pulled his hand away. Her eyes fluttered opened, he could see her scan the crowd below, dazed and off-balance.