The Bars Between Us

by A. S. Teague

  Not even in the slightest.

  I was invested. It wasn’t even that I wanted to know more about her—I needed it. Deep inside me, I needed to see the ugly parts of her so that I could show her the ugly parts of me. The parts I tried so desperately to keep hidden. The parts that she somehow made acceptable with nothing more than a simple grin and gentle touch. I couldn’t explain it, this deep-rooted need to connect with her, but it was there all the same.

  Her body is small against mine, fitting into the curve of my arm as though she’d been made to be there.

  And hell…here I am staring down at her, wondering if she had been.

  Her soft hand rests over my racing heart and her silky hair smells of flowers as it tickles my chin.

  Maybe it was the beers I’d slammed back in a worthless fit of anger earlier, but whatever the reason, I’d spilled the beans about my dad, and then revealed to the only woman I ever wanted to keep the horrible things my piece of shit mother had said.

  She should have looked at me with disgust.

  She should have run.

  She should have never looked back.

  But Grace, being well, Grace, her beautiful face above mine, her eyes full of sadness, she stared down at me with respect and admiration blazing in her eyes.

  There was no pity, and for that I was thankful. No, what I saw in her eyes was understanding, a commonality that somehow bonded us, two people from different sides of the tracks. And that thread of likeness only caused the lust to surge through my veins thicker and faster than ever before.

  I study her face, asking for something that it’s probably too soon to hope for. But, through her sadness, there’s also desire.

  She wants me, too.

  With a nod so slight I almost don’t catch it, she gives me the permission I’m desperate for.

  I slide my fingers through her hair, the silky strands creating a buzz on my skin that travels over my entire body. Her head in my hands, I bring my lips to hers, kissing her slow and deep with reverence.

  Her lips are pliant against mine, her mouth opening without hesitation, inviting and almost daring my tongue to enter.

  She moans, the sound igniting my body and fueling me forward. Flipping us, I cover her, relishing in the way her breasts press against my chest.

  “Bronn,” she breathes into my mouth as I slide my hands up her waist, her ivory skin smooth under my rough, calloused hands. She arches her neck and I trail kisses down her throat.

  Bringing my lips to her ear, I whisper, “I want you.”

  She groans. “God, please.”

  Kissing along her jaw, I tell her, “Fuck, but I want to be inside you.”

  She writhes beneath me, rolling her hips to press her core against my cock. “Then what are you waiting for?”

  My lips twitch.

  This is the first time in my life that I’ve hesitated, but Grace is also the first woman in my life to mean something to me. I don’t want to fuck it up by rushing into something physical.

  And yet, she wants to know what I’m waiting for.

  “Any further and there’s no turning back,” I murmur, still running my lips along her throat.

  She slides her hand down my body, grasping my dick in her palm. “It’s already too late to turn back,” she purrs.

  Lifting my head, I catch her gaze. There’s no hesitation, only lust mixed with something deeper, something I’m not sure I’m ready for.

  Pulling her shirt down, I reveal a lacy bra. Wasting no time, I begin to lick along the edge of the fabric.

  “Yes,” she cries, arching her back off the bed and allowing me just enough room to unhook the clasp, freeing her small round breasts.

  My mouth dries at the sight of her perfect pink nipple, and a growl emanates from my throat. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I tell her, rolling the tight nub between my fingers.

  Her hand at my cock convulses deliciously as I suck her nipple deep into my mouth. Licking and swirling my tongue, I devour her. She writhes beneath me, moaning my name, causing my cock to swell impossibly harder.

  It feels amazing. Too good in fact.

  Releasing her nipple, I wrap my fingers around her arm and pull her hand out of my pants.

  “Bronn,” she protests.

  I press my mouth to hers, silencing her plea with a lingering kiss before continuing my descent down her body.

  Curling my fingers into the elastic band of her pants, I pause.

  “Once I pull these off, I’m not stopping,” I tell her, giving her a chance to back out.

  She pushes up on an elbow, her eyes dancing with challenge. “You better not stop.”

  Grinning wolfishly, I slide her pants down her legs, taking her panties with them. Tossing them to the side, I stand and begin removing my jeans as I take in the sight of her, laid out in front of me.

  With lust-filled eyes, she watches me free my cock of its denim confinement.

  Sinking to my knees, I spread hers wide and, as slowly as I can stand, lick my way up her thigh, stopping when I get to her core.

  I’ve never been very good at self-control, my arrest record proof of that, but for her, I’m determined to take my time tonight. To feel every touch and flick of her tongue against my body and for her to feel the same.

  She whimpers, circling her hips as she pleas while I continue to tease her, nipping and sucking everywhere except the one spot that she so desperately wants. Finally, when the sound of her moans morph into begging, I flatten my tongue, torturously making my way up to her clit.

  She fists my hair, holding my head in place, letting me know exactly what she wants. And I have no problem giving it to her.

  I continue to lick and suck her clit, her hips rolling against my mouth as her breathing becomes more ragged.

  Until finally she breaks.

  “Oh, God,” she cries, slapping her hands out to the sides, fisting the sheets.

  I pick up the pace, working her harder and faster until her sharp cries of ecstasy drift into sated moans.

  As her orgasm wanes, she relaxes on the bed, her eyes closed, a small smile on her face.

  It is so fucking cute that even as my cock aches for release it makes my lips curl, mirroring hers. I’m in so much trouble with this woman.

  I stand and grab a condom from the nightstand, making quick work of rolling it on.

  Grabbing her behind her knees, I slide her body to the edge of the bed and position myself between her thighs. She hooks her feet behind my back, her knees at my waist, and without a moment’s hesitation I slam into her, stopping once I’m fully inside, relishing the way she feels.

  Her head flies back against the pillow, her eyes aimed at the ceiling.

  “Yes,” she hisses.

  Palming her ass, I slide out of her slowly before driving back in.

  Her body welcomes me home with every thrust.

  It isn’t long before my balls begin to tingle, my own release looming.

  Releasing her ass with one hand, I move my thumb over her clit, rubbing circles. Her neck arches, a cry of pleasure escaping her lips.

  “You’re going to give me one more,” I rasp.

  “Yesss…” she moans. “God, don’t stop.”

  Her words fuel me on, and soon she’s crying out again. And then with one last thrust, I follow her with my own release.

  With a groan, I crash down on top of her, careful to catch my weight on my elbows on either side of her head.

  “You done with the caveman jealousy bit now?” she asks in a soft playful voice that I swear strokes the angry ache that lives inside of me.

  With twitching lips, I arch an eyebrow. “Come again?”

  She grins and lifts her head off the pillow long enough to brush her lips with mine. “Well, I can’t come again right now. Give me a few minutes though and maybe…”

  I nip at her bottom lip. “I wasn’t fucking jealous.”

  She giggles. “You so were.”

  “I wasn’t fucking jealous,” I r
epeat louder, but I say it with a smile so it holds no heat.

  “It’s okay. I’m thinking you’d look hot in a loin cloth, pounding on your chest. So, really, I don’t mind.”

  Chuckling, I roll my hips into her “You done being a smart ass? I need to clean up.”

  “I’m done being a smart ass,” she confirms with a glowing white smile.

  After a quick kiss I push off her and head to the bathroom, making quick work of getting rid of the condom before making my way back to the bed and collapsing beside her.

  She turns to face me, wrapping an arm around my waist and resting her cheek on my chest.

  I’d never considered myself a cuddler after sex, but then again, I’d never met Grace Monroe before. She is quickly becoming the exception to every one of my rules.

  With a satisfied smile that I couldn’t wipe from my face, I let my eyelids drop, the rocking of the boat lulling us both to sleep.

  The shrill sound of my cell phone ringing wakes me. Startled, I sit up and look around. The room’s bright, the sunlight streaming in through the small window that doesn’t have curtains. I don’t recognize my surroundings, and panic grips my belly for a split second before the warm body beside me stirs.

  Bronn.

  Realization of where I am dawns, and my shoulders sag in relief.

  “What the fuck is that noise?” he grumbles, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

  I stare at him over my shoulder, admiring his handsome face for what feels like the thousandth time since we met.

  “Morning,” I say softly.

  His head whips up, his eyes widening when he catches sight of me.

  Okaaaaay.

  “Oh, Grace. Hey. Uh…” he trails off, pushing a hand through his hair. His arm flexes with the movement and I’m overcome with the desire to feel it wrapped around me again.

  I lean back, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “We must have fallen asleep last night.”

  His body relaxes as he places an arm around me, as if he had read my mind just a moment ago, and pulls me closer to him.

  His lips pressed into my hair, he murmurs, “Morning, Grace.”

  The warmth from his body spreads over me and I sink further into his embrace. My body aches, but in the most delicious way, and as I remember the way my shitty day ended, my belly begins to heat with desire all over again.

  The morning after can go one of two ways. It can be awkward and stiff, unsure of whether I should stay or go. I’d had enough of those to know that the answer is always go.

  Or it could be relaxed and comfortable, like it wasn’t the first time you were intimate with a man.

  Like this.

  I’d never been more relaxed, more content, more blissful than I am in this moment.

  I nestle in closer to him, my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat strong and steady, and let my eyes drift shut.

  We’d had sex last night. But it wasn’t just sex. No, it was more than that. Way more. I felt it, and I hope that Bronn did, too.

  I want to do it again.

  And again.

  And then once more.

  But the rocking of the boat begins to lull me back to sleep, and I think that maybe Bronn has the right idea, living on this thing. Just as I drift off, my phone begins ringing again.

  “What the hell?” Bronn huffs.

  Groaning, I scramble over his bare chest and hang over the side of the bed, digging through my purse. I’m reminded that I’m naked when Bronn begins rubbing his hand back and forth over my skin, causing goose bumps to break out on my flesh. I pretend to swat his hand away, giggling, but it doesn’t deter him. And the more he rubs, the less interested in answering my phone I become.

  Getting my hands on the offending item, I don’t even bother looking to see who it is, just hit the accept button and put the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?” I say, breathless.

  “Grace?” Riley’s tinny voice invades my ear. Fear grips my gut.

  “Is everything okay? Nana?” I squeak, fearing the worst.

  “What?” he asks, the panic turning to irritation. “Your Nana’s fine. You just saw her yesterday, remember?”

  I’m still hanging off the bed, the blood rushing to my head. “Oh, thank goodness.” I breathe.

  “What took you so long to answer?” he demands.

  With a sigh, I roll my eyes and push up on the bed until I’m sitting cross-legged. Bronn eyes me, no doubt hearing the male voice on the other end and I roll my eyes again, making a gun with my thumb and finger and putting it to my head.

  “I was asleep. What time is it anyway?” Glancing around the room, I don’t see a clock anywhere, so I raise my eyebrows in Bronn’s direction.

  He checks his watch and mouths, “Twelve-thirty.”

  Before Riley can answer, I shout, “In the afternoon?” I want to be shocked that I slept so late, but considering who I was cozied up against, and the long day I’d had before, I believe it.

  Ignoring my outburst, Riley continues, “Where are you, Grace?”

  Frustrated, I push off the bed and begin to stalk to the door of the boat when I hear a throat clear from behind me.

  Glancing over my shoulder, Bronn’s eyes are almost dancing. With his hand, he makes a sweeping motion and says quietly, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying the view. But, not sure you want the local shrimp guys to get an eyeful?”

  I look down to see what he’s referring to, and my eyes almost pop out of my head when I realize that I’m still naked from last night.

  Screwing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath and tell Riley. “Listen, Ri. I’m fine. I’ll call you later.”

  I move to disconnect the call when Riley’s distressed voice causes me to pause. “Did you not hear what I said? I’m at your house.”

  “My house?”

  “Well, the place that you’re staying at. I’m sitting on the porch, enjoying a glass of tea with your neighbors, wondering why the hell you aren’t here.”

  Anger bubbles up and I press my lips together tightly to stop from shouting at him. How dare he show up unannounced after I told him the night before that he had to give it a rest.

  As much as I care about him and appreciate everything he has done for my family, and for me, I am not interested in a relationship with him. It doesn’t matter that I have told him that, in many ways in the past. He is convinced that I don’t realize that we are the perfect match.

  It doesn’t help that he had my Nana’s blessing, that she has all but forced me on him after he’d taken on her estate and affairs as her attorney.

  I count to ten in my head before releasing the breath I’d been holding, and through clenched teeth tell him, “I’ll be home in fifteen minutes. And then we need to talk.”

  I don’t bother waiting for a response before ending the call. With calculated effort, I walk to my purse and put my phone away to keep from throwing it across the room.

  Racing around the tiny space, I retrieve my clothes and begin to put them on.

  “So…” Bronn lets the word linger, waiting for me to fill in the blanks for him.

  I’m sure it looks suspicious, a man calling repeatedly asking where I am, but I don’t have the energy to go into detail about our relationship, or lack thereof.

  “Cliff notes version,” I say, pulling my shirt on over my head. “Nana thought that I would be a great match for her young, handsome attorney. Riley’s a great guy, but I am not a great match for him. He disagrees and won’t let it go. I tried the friendship route and––“ I break off, throwing my arms to my sides in frustration. “Obviously, that shit isn’t working either.”

  I plop on the edge of the bed that Bronn is still just lounging in, and the longing to climb back in with him overwhelms me.

  I want nothing more than to spend the rest of the day in his arms, under his body, and between his legs.

  My irritation grows as my eyes roam Bronn’s chest, remembering how his skin tasted beneath my tongue last night.
<
br />   With a sigh, I slide my heels on and stand. “He’s at my house, apparently, having tea with one of the neighbors.”

  “Let me get dressed, I’ll go with you.” His voice is soft, but I don’t miss the edge to it.

  He’s watching me intently, and there’s something there that I can’t quite put my finger on. The longer he stares, the more intense his eyes become.

  Is it doubt?

  Jealousy?

  I shake my head. “No, you don’t have to do that.”

  He pushes to his feet, grabbing his jeans from the floor and slides them over his muscular legs. My gaze follows them to his thighs and I look away, not wanting the desire in my belly to intensify more. I don’t have time for another romp in the sack, no matter how badly I want it.

  “Sounds like this guy doesn’t know the meaning of no.” His voice is tense.

  Shaking my head, I tell him, “Riley’s a good guy.”

  Bronn’s eyes narrow, the suspicion from earlier making another appearance, and I hold my hands up.

  “Really, he is. He’s been such a good friend to me. I think he’s just hopeless maybe?” I scramble, the guilt of painting one of my closest friends out to be a villain washing over me.

  I don’t want to hurt Riley, or ruin our friendship, but he can’t go on thinking that we will ever be anything more than just friends. I just don’t know what to say that will get my point across.

  Maybe I should let Bronn go with me.

  Shaking my head, I run my fingers through my hair, wishing that I had time to style it and put fresh makeup on. I pick my purse up from the floor and throw it over my shoulder before taking a deep breath and turning back to Bronn.

  With an apologetic smile, I tell him, “Sorry I have to rush out. I’ll call you later though, okay?”

  His lips are set in a thin line, his eyes still wary, but he nods.

  Throwing him one last apologetic smile, I hustle through the door into the bright sunshine.

  My old truck rumbles, the motor obviously not in the mood to cooperate with me today, and I groan.

  You’re gonna get caught.

  Good, you shouldn’t be such a fucking creeper in the first place.

  Oh, shut up.