Best Jerk

by Lulu Pratt

  I yell her name over and over as we both ride the final waves of ecstasy.

  I pull out of her and rest my head on her shoulder as we both breathe, spent from the effort.

  Chapter ten

  JAMESON WILCOX

  The next morning, I wake up alone in my bed. I glance at the clock on the nightstand and realize it’s not even eight.

  Where the hell is Grace?

  After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I slip on a pair of boxers and go out into the hall.

  Our clothes are still strewn about carelessly, reminding me of our hurried first encounter. We’d eventually made it to the bedroom for rounds two, three and four.

  It’d been a long night. A long, satisfying night.

  The smell of coffee wafts into my nostrils as I round the corner to my kitchen, but I still see no sign of Grace.

  Worry sets in until I see something sway past the kitchen window.

  Walking over to the sink, I see Grace is out on my back deck swaying in the swing that overlooks my property. She’s wearing my boxers and shirt from last night, sipping coffee from my favorite mug.

  She looks serene and right at home.

  My eyes take in the scene and an unfamiliar feeling settles in the pit of my stomach.

  Guilt follows as I fall into a thoughtful mood. She’s here under false pretenses, blindly trusting me.

  Shaking off the unwelcome feelings, I walk outside to greet her.

  A beaming smile welcomes me when she looks in my direction.

  I speak first.

  “Good morning, Grace.”

  “Good morning,” she says almost shyly, her voice raspy from the screaming she’d been doing all night.

  I feel my boxers tent as flashbacks ambush me.

  “What are you doing up so early?”

  “I’m always up this early,” she pats the space beside her and I sit down obediently.

  She offers her cup and I take a sip, groaning at the richness of the flavor.

  The woman makes an excellent cup of coffee.

  “I would have made breakfast, but you don’t have a lot to choose from in your fridge,” she explains.

  My chuckle is low and bashful.

  I hadn’t exactly anticipated having company so my food rations were low. After we’d devoured our take-out from the diner around two a.m., the only thing remaining was a sad gallon of milk and a few beers.

  Her stomach rumbles and my guilt is automatic.

  “I’ll go into town and grab us something,” I volunteer as I stand to my feet.

  “I don’t mind going with you,” she says, staring up at me.

  Her amber eyes are arresting in the morning light. She looks content and well rested despite the early hour.

  But as tempting as her offer sounds, I know I have to decline.

  I need some alone time to contact Mendoza and see if he’s been successful with the task I gave him a few days ago.

  Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I excuse myself.

  I dress and retrieve my keys, leaving Grace to lounge on my back deck.

  * * *

  Unbeknownst to Grace, I’ve been tailing her all week since discovering Brick was in town.

  Each day, she travels the same route between home, work and the gym completely oblivious to the black SUV I was driving three cars behind her at all times.

  My surveillance doesn’t end until I knew she was home for the night, confirming this information with carefully worded texts.

  I don’t plan to let up until I know that bastard has skipped town and hasn’t sent any other hounds sniffing for her.

  Last weekend, after my first date with Grace I’d called Brick and asked for an extension on my previous deadline. He had reluctantly agreed, happy that I was at least tracking her closely at all times.

  I was relieved to have bought myself more time. My initial thought was to end our business relationship altogether but Mendoza had warned that it would raise too many red flags on Brick’s end.

  As I call him now to check in, I’m thankful for his foresight.

  “Wilcox,” he answers on the first ring.

  “What you got for me, Mendoza?”

  “I’m about twenty minutes away, can you meet up with me real quick? I don’t want to do this over the phone.”

  We agree on a place and I disconnect the call, before backing down my driveway. On my way out, I stop to check my box and the only item inside is an envelope containing an invitation to the American Veterans Ball.

  I have received the same invitation every year since my discharge and each year I don’t show my face.

  This year won’t be any different. Balls and fancy outings just aren’t my thing. I’ll simply buy a ticket in support and stay home.

  * * *

  An hour and a half later, I’m parking in my paved driveway.

  The meeting with Mendoza took longer than I expected. I learned that Brick had left town last night, arriving back in Ravenwood early this morning according to one of Mendoza’s men.

  But that doesn’t mean Grace is in the clear. There’s always the chance that he’ll return or send someone else to check up on her.

  I’d left our meeting in a hurry to go retrieve breakfast from my favorite mom and pop spot up the road.

  The appetizing smells coming from the bag remind me of how hungry I am.

  As I enter my home, I hope Grace isn’t too suspicious about my long absence.

  However, when I reach the living room, I know the odds are slim as she is knocked out on my couch. Her body is in a tight ball in the corner.

  Placing the food on the coffee table, I study her quietly.

  Her hair is damp when I ease my fingers through the thick strands, evidence that she took a shower in my absence.

  Envy surges through me when I realize I missed it.

  She’s still wearing a pair of my boxers and a clean T-shirt she found in my room.

  I kneel beside the couch, running my hand over the smooth skin of her jaw.

  “Grace,” I call, attempting to rouse her with my voice.

  She’s awake instantly, amber eyes wide and searching the room frantically.

  My heart stops as the utter fear registers on her once peaceful face.

  At once, I’m seized by the desire to comfort her and ask her what she’s so afraid of.

  My gut tells me it has everything to do with Brick but how can I ask those questions without revealing myself?

  Grace sits up, wrapping her arms around herself in defense.

  “Oh, hi,” she whispers. “I must have been a lot more tired than I thought.”

  Her eyes land on the bag of food and she lights up, the dark mood lifted immediately.

  Before us, I spread out breakfast sandwiches loaded with bacon, eggs and cheese. I also retrieve ample orders of hash browns from the bag.

  From our previous outings, I know Grace isn’t a modest eater and it’s a complete turn on.

  “What would you like to do for the rest of the day?”

  Tilting her head, she observes me as she continues to eat her food.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, growing uneasy.

  “You want me to stay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Are you free for the rest of the weekend?” I ask, shoving food into my mouth greedily.

  I want her to stay for a very, very long time. It feels right to have her here, no matter how devious my initial intent.

  If she’s here, I can keep an eye on her. And fuck her around the clock.

  Last night’s activities had only been a small taste of what I plan to do to her.

  “The rest of the weekend?” she echoes in lieu of an answer.

  “Yea, are you free? I want you here with me.”

  A rapid blush settles over her cheeks.

  “Okay,” she agrees with a small nod. “I’ll just have to get some clothes from my place. You ripped my only underwear and I don’t think I’ll survive in your boxers all
weekend,” she adds cheekily.

  I definitely wouldn’t mind her in my boxers all weekend.

  Chapter eleven

  GRACE CHAMBERS

  We journey into the kitchen to dispose of the garbage and grab some more coffee before hitting the road.

  Jameson tells me it’s about a forty-five minute drive although I don’t remember it taking that long last night.

  I prepare two more cups utilizing his single-serve dispenser, taking in his immaculate kitchen.

  From what I’ve seen so far, everything has its own place. Organized so meticulously that I bet he knows exactly where everything is even when the lights are off.

  I wonder if he’s always been a neat freak or it’s something he picked as a SEAL. Probably a combination of both, I decide.

  As I turn to retrieve the creamer from the fridge, Jameson’s strong hand grasps my elbow turning me around with a firm tug.

  My front melds with his as ravenous lips claim my own.

  Caught off guard, I moan as his tongue slides against mine, exploring every corner of my mouth.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you on my back deck this morning,” Jameson confesses, making me dizzy.

  Breakfast was innocent enough, but the tension was there and the hardness pressing against my stomach is proof.

  Spurred on by his arousal, I become hungry for a taste of him.

  His tongue had felt so divine against my aching center last night and I want to return the favor.

  Without warning, I drop to my knees in front of him on the kitchen floor.

  “I’ve wanted to do this for a while, too,” I tell him.

  The tile is cold and unyielding against my knees, but I don’t allow myself to dwell on the discomfort.

  I have one goal in mind and that’s driving Jameson to the brink, just as he had done for me the night before.

  Making quick work of removing his sweats and boxers, my eyes delight at the sight of his heavy cock as it springs free.

  “You’re so thick, Jameson.”

  I rub the head against my greedy lips, savoring the tortured growl that escapes him at my naughty remark.

  My hand closes around the width, cherishing the heat it transmits to my palm.

  I lick my lips in anticipation, eyeing the pulsing vein that runs along the underside.

  His penis is as beautiful as the rest of him.

  Rising up on my knees, I stretch my mouth wide before I take him inside.

  A curse tears through him when my tongue makes contact and I want to smile at the effect I have on him.

  I begin to suck him fiercely. My head is bobbing as I move back and forth to accommodate him.

  The saliva gathers in my eager mouth and coats his length, lubricating him.

  My hands provide added stimulation as I fondle his heavy sack, teasing the hypersensitive flesh there.

  Forcibly, his hands fist my strands and pull slightly as he begins to rock his hips towards my open mouth.

  Oh my God, fire settles in my belly at the tugging action.

  The slight pain is intoxicating.

  Again, I moan against his hardness allowing the vibrations to travel through him.

  “Fucking shit… ah, Grace,” he swears almost incoherently.

  I pull him free from my suctioning hold with a resounding pop and focus on the swollen tip. My wet kisses moisten him in conjunction with the salty pre-cum oozing from the head.

  Smearing his arousal against my swollen moist lips, I decide I could stay here all day, enjoying him this way.

  He groans again, seemingly in agreement with my wicked thoughts.

  My pussy throbs with the knowledge that I’m eliciting these sounds from this gorgeous, powerful man.

  I want to reach down and rub my envious clit, desperate to enjoy this as much as he is.

  But I’m deprived of the opportunity.

  “Get up,” he commands roughly and I obey dutifully.

  As soon as I’m standing in front of him, he crushes his mouth to mine and steals my next breath.

  Effortlessly, he lifts me from the floor and into his capable arms.

  Unconsciously, I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks over to the small table in his breakfast nook.

  Sitting down on one of the chairs, he grabs my hips and lifts me to hover over him.

  My pussy is actually aching for him to fill me.

  “Ride me, baby.”

  Anchoring my right hand on his shoulder, I take him with my free hand and slide his engorged cock over the swollen lips of my sex.

  The friction is amazingly intoxicating.

  I sink down onto him and nearly come from the sweet invasion.

  Despite our marathon session last night, I’m still not used to the way he stretches me so deliciously.

  A sense of fullness settles in my core as I begin to move.

  Strong arms lock around my torso, crushing me to him in a binding embrace.

  As my nerve endings are set ablaze, I know I could stay here all day.

  Our kiss is sloppy and rough, teeth clashing as our tongues battle for dominance over the other.

  “You’re so fucking tight and perfect, Grace,” Jameson announces as I bounce up and down.

  His hips begin bucking brutally as he pushes upward to fill me even more.

  I’ve never been so full in my life.

  A hoarse cry startles me before I realize it’s my own.

  He’s ripping me apart from the inside out and I’ve never felt anything so euphoric in my life.

  “You’re perfect for me,” Jameson huffs, his palm making stinging contact with my ass I continue to ride him.

  “Perfect, perfect.”

  I delight in his words and try to keep up with the frenzied pace he’s set.

  Nothing or no one has ever felt this damn good. I welcome the delicious assault.

  It’s only been a day and I know I’m addicted to him.

  My breasts shake and shift with the force of our movements and Jameson leans forward to give them the attention they crave.

  The added stimulation nearly drives me over the edge, but I hang on at the precipice of coming undone.

  “You’re mine, Grace. Tell me you know that.”

  I want to oblige him but the words are stuck in my burning throat.

  This emboldens him to increase his upward strokes.

  “Tell me you know that, Grace. I need to hear you say it.”

  The possession in his tone is palpable, a mighty force all on its own.

  “Yes,” I manage with a shaky nod. I’ll agree to anything as long as he continues fucking me just like this forever.

  “You’re mine,” he repeats, still pounding into me.

  He reaches between us and the smallest touch of his calloused finger ignites my longing clit, effectively pushing me off the cliff into a body-shaking orgasm.

  “Yes!” I shriek, falling apart. “Oh God, I’m yours.”

  Satisfied with my compliance, Jameson holds me tight staring into my eyes as I ride out the final shudders that rack through my body.

  Then, he starts moving again. This time all on his own. I don’t have the energy to join in right away.

  Upward thrusts shake me as I watch the ecstasy blanket his striking features.

  He kisses me hard on the lips, then bites down on my bottom lip unable to continue the caress as his body stills.

  I know he’s coming and I grind my dripping sex into him, trying to pull it out of him quicker.

  Jameson convulses and gives two final pumps before his hot cum fills me to capacity.

  Panting, I rest my head against his chest with him still lodged deep inside of me.

  Despite our best laid plans, I know we won’t be leaving the house anytime soon.

  Chapter twelve

  GRACE CHAMBERS

  I’m walking around the market with a goofy smirk on my face.

  I can’t help it even though I know I must look ridiculous.

&
nbsp; The amount of mind-blowing sex I’ve been having lately would have any woman on cloud nine.

  My muscles are wonderfully sore from our antics when I squat to grab a bag of rice.

  When my phone rings in my purse, I pull out the device fully expecting to see Jameson’s name displayed on the screen.

  My mother’s number brings me back down to earth.

  “Mom?”

  A wheezing smoker’s cough fills the line before she says a word.

  “Gracie? Oh, thank God you answered.”

  She sounds relieved and I’m not sure why.

  “What’s going on, Mom?”

  “How are you, sweetheart?” She attempts small talk and I roll my eyes.

  “I’m fine, Mom. What do you need?”

  My mom and I have no pretenses of a pleasant relationship.

  She wasn’t exactly nurturing when I was growing up and I haven’t exactly forgiven her for it. Still, she is the only mother I have.

  Whenever she calls, she usually needs something or has bad news to deliver.

  I sigh deeply, wondering what she has in store for me today.

  So much for my giddy mood.

  “I hear Brick is looking for you and he’s hired a professional to do the job.”

  Ice chills the blood in my veins.

  “What?” I ask incredulously, my brain refusing to let her words sink in.

  “Brick,” she repeats emphatically. “Martha from the bakery says she found out from his assistant when the girl came in to order a cake last Wednesday.”

  Fear traps the words in my throat and my knees weaken.

  With white knuckles, I grip the handle of the shopping cart before me, using it to support myself.

  “Mom, I’m sure it’s just a silly rumor,” I say regaining my ability to speak.

  “I don’t know,” she says uncertainly.

  “Trust me. Brick isn’t thinking about me anymore. Everything happened so long ago,” I speak trying to convince her as well as myself.

  “Even though I suspect you’ll never tell me the full story, I know the man is dangerous. Gracie, you didn’t just skip town for no reason.”

  “I know, Mom,” I say, stealing glances at my surroundings. I want to insure that no one overhears our conversation.