Avet, Danica - Ain't No Bull [The Veil 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Danica Avet

  Isola’s face, which was red before, slowly turned vermillion, her dark eyes sparking with gold flecks. Holy hell, she was pissed!

  “Insane?” She hissed softly. “Is it insane, or is it called being smart? I’ve seen too many women get trapped by males who destroy their self-worth. Been there, done that, got the metal plate in my head from it.”

  Once again, Grant was struck speechless. “A metal plate?” he asked, completely baffled.

  She gave him a superior smile and turned on her heel. “You wouldn’t understand,” Isola tossed over her shoulder as she entered the house.

  Damned right he didn’t understand, Grant thought as he stared at the empty doorway. What had started out as a good day had turned into a nonstop rollercoaster of lust, ridiculousness, and outright insanity. He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

  Slowly, a smile crossed his face that he couldn’t hide. Isola might be the craziest woman he’d ever met in his life, but she gave head that made a man nearly faint like a romance book heroine. Chuckling at the thought, Grant went inside, not surprised to see no sign of Isola. He probably wouldn’t see her for the rest of the day, but that was fine.

  Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he headed for his laptop. It was good to be the owner of a security company. Isola was about to be thoroughly investigated.

  Chapter Nineteen

  RosettaLynn U ho!

  IzzyliciousUr a ho! Remember Bruce “The Bull Moose”?

  RosettaLynnHe wasn’t a real bull tho.

  IzzyliciousCould’ve sworn he was with the way you carried on

  RosettaLynn He’s a bull, gf! Walking steak.

  Izzylicious Never said it was 4ever.

  RosettaLynn That’s not the impression Fallon gave us…

  Izzy frowned at Grant’s laptop screen, letting the cursor blink as she tried to think of the right thing to say. Grant dozed on the sofa across the room, giving her privacy to contact her best friend, but this conversation was uncomfortable even via direct messages on Twitter.

  She hadn’t talked to him after the truck incident and he hadn’t tried talking to her either. If she was being honest, she was kind of disappointed. Did he no longer want her after what happened? Or had it been so long since she’d given a blow job that she was horrible at it?

  Tapping her fingers on the desk, she thought over her technique. No, she was pretty sure she’d done a good job. He seemed to have enjoyed it.

  RosettaLynn U scared?

  Grousing under her breath, she set her fingers on the keyboard and typed furiously.

  Izzylicious U should be scared for when I get my hands on u!

  RosettaLynn U R scared! Am telling @SagaBaby

  “No!” she shouted at the screen, frozen in horror. If Rosetta told Saga, her friend and mentor would be all over it like white on rice. Of course, Rosetta couldn’t hear her, and with the phone ban, Izzy was reduced to yelling at Twitter.

  “Problem?” a deep voice rumbled from across the room.

  “No.”

  “You say that word a lot.”

  She saw long, muscled arms lift over the back of the sofa. Then a tousled blond head appeared. Grant was too sexy for her peace of mind when he first woke up. The damn bull looked good at any time, she thought with a mental sigh as she logged off Twitter and shut down the computer.

  Grant hadn’t exactly given her permission to use his laptop, but since he didn’t say anything, Izzy figured they had an unspoken agreement.

  She’d just have to try talking to Rosetta later that night when Grant was taking his shower. Ignoring her funk, Izzy strode to the bathroom without looking at the minotaur on the sofa. Cleaning herself over the bathroom sink was getting old fast. She hadn’t taken a complete shower since the previous morning. She didn’t smell bad so much as she just felt gross. Izzy was an Amazon who loved her showers, but not when she had to share them with the one male who made her lose her mind.

  Slamming the bathroom door behind her, she slumped against the door. Not only was Grant acting like he didn’t want her anymore, but no one was giving her information on what was going on back home. Fallon hadn’t returned, and though Rosetta chatted about the camp, she hadn’t mentioned what was happening with Grant’s situation.

  Izzy’s eyes burned, but she held back the tears. She’d effectively cut off her tribe with her actions, intentional or not. It was like they didn’t trust her to do what she needed to, and she supposed they had a valid reason. She hadn’t exactly gone out of her way to show she was responsible. Rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, Izzy took a deep breath.

  A knock vibrated through the door. “Hey, you’re not showering without me, are you?”

  “Gah!” She kicked the door with her heel and stomped off to her room.

  Throwing herself facedown on the bed, she tried to ignore her hormones and Grant, who’d entered the bathroom behind her. She should’ve been well-sated after the intense session in his truck yesterday, but her body ached for more. And she couldn’t find relief since she couldn’t have BOB without Grant and she couldn’t even take a shower alone. She was going insane.

  “Babe, really. You should shower,” he stated from the doorway behind her. “I won’t touch you. Much.”

  Izzy screamed into the bedspread before rolling over in a fit of fury. “You’re making me crazy! Crazy!”

  Godsdamn him, he looked delicious. She idly wondered if he was closet exhibitionist because he never wore shirts around the house. Not that she really minded ogling his bare torso, but a woman could only take so much before she snapped. And Izzy was closer to snapping than she’d ever been in her lifetime.

  He rubbed a hand over his chest, the rasp of his callused palm over his hair-roughened skin sending pulses of desire through her system. “I think you’re too uptight.”

  She bounced to her feet in complete outrage. “I am not uptight! I’m the Amazon Most Likely to Be Arrested!” She poked a hard finger into his chest with every word. “I’m the life of the fucking party, Raging Bull, and don’t ever forget it.”

  One of his eyebrows rose skeptically. He shook his head, his expression both sad and humoring. “Of course you are.”

  Snarling with frustrated desire and just…frustration, Izzy tore her shirt off while kicking her boots off her feet.

  Uptight,” she muttered as she wrestled with the laces of her leather pants. “Asshole bull thinks I’m uptight? I’ll show his ass.”

  The pants fell to the floor next to her shirt and boots. Izzy unfastened her bra and stalked past Grant into the bathroom. He didn’t move except to follow her with his eyes.

  She turned the shower on, slapping back the curtain and ripped off her panties. “Well? Are we taking a fucking shower, or what?”

  * * * *

  Grant thanked the gods because they’d made them both paranormal beings in peak condition. Then he sent a mental thank-you to his parents for giving him excellent eyesight and the temperament to put up with a crazy Amazon who made him hot. Lastly, he thanked Isola’s parents because her body was perfection, even if her attitude was abrasive.

  He’d known acting cool towards her would put her in a bad mood, and though it had been hard on him as well, the results were astonishing. The background check he’d done the night before yielded very little concrete information, but it was enough to tell him Isola was used to walking away before she was rejected or hurt. No one left that many tribes in the amount of time she had unless they were dealing with some major issues. What he wondered was why no one had noticed before, but he supposed her flighty attitude did a lot to mask her true reasons for moving around.

  They really should be working, but they were both too uptight. Justifying his need for her as stress relief, he slid his belt out of the loops, flinging it across her room.

  She shot him a dirty look that held more heat than she was probably aware of before she stepped into the shower. Not wanting to waste a minute of the experience, Grant tore the rest
of his clothes off. He didn’t care that he’d had a shower just two hours before.

  Pulling back the curtain, he was awarded with the sight of Isola’s head tilted back as water cascaded over her delicious body. His mouth watered. Had it only been yesterday that he’d brought her to gut-wrenching climax? It felt like a lifetime.

  He stepped in the shower in front of her, struck mute by the glory of her pebbled nipples with water shining like diamonds on them. Grant swallowed a groan, on the verge of embarrassing himself. Her hands were scrubbing her hair leaving those delicious mounds unprotected.

  He peeked at her face. Her eyes were closed. One hand rose to catch a drop of water as it threatened to fall from her breast.

  “Touch me and you’ll pull back a nub, bull boy.”

  Grant snatched his hand back, guilty color rising in his face. It was an effort to drag his eyes from her breasts, but hers remained closed as she rinsed. Damn Amazon instincts, he silently grumbled as he squirted soap into his hand.

  They washed in silence though Grant spent more time watching Isola’s hands run over every inch of her body. She acted as though he wasn’t in the small space with her, washing herself quickly and efficiently. He was scared to wash anywhere below his waist for fear that he’d go off like a rocket.

  Isola didn’t have the same problem. The minute she dragged the washcloth down her abdomen to the apex of her thighs, Grant’s brain shut down. Her gaze snapped to clash with his as though she dared him to say something. She didn’t have to worry because he wasn’t sure he could do anything as remotely complicated as talking.

  She didn’t linger, she didn’t attempt to seduce. The washcloth dipped between her legs and was gone in a matter of seconds, but it may as well have been hours of foreplay because Grant was a goner. His cock throbbed, pearls of cum beading at the tip. His body was tight with vicious need.

  Then she slipped on the floor of the tub and scrambled to catch herself, but not before the silken skin of her hip grazed his cock. Just like that, Grant exploded, his seed pumping furiously on the bathroom tiles. Heart thundering with relief and embarrassment, he groaned, slumping against the corner of the shower.

  He closed his eyes and banged his head on the wall. Gods, what was he? Twelve? He’d never lost control like that. He only hoped she either hadn’t noticed—not much luck of that since he’d creamed on her leg—or that she wouldn’t say anything.

  Grant knew he was doomed because the day Isola Malone wouldn’t say something inappropriate was the day she agreed to be his mate.

  * * * *

  Izzy stared at her leg and the stream of seed that burned a path over her skin. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Her stomach fluttered like she’d swallowed a Mexican jumping bean. She wanted Grant. She couldn’t dispute that, and judging by the agonized groaning and cursing, he wanted her so much he could barely control himself.

  A small smile danced around her mouth. She’d been so worried that he’d seduce her she hadn’t given any thought to accidentally seducing him. Her eyes drank him in and she had to grip the curtain to stay on her feet.

  He was wet, his hair stuck to his shoulders in long trails of dark blond silk. His massive chest bellowed as he fought to regain his breath and his cock, half-erect in spite of his orgasm, looked as though it was ready for another round. Her body flooded with warmth that had nothing to do with the water raining over her head.

  It was so easy to pretend she could resist him when they were both somewhat clothed and in a large room. It was a completely different matter when they were both stripped bare in a shower together. She wanted Grant, wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything else.

  “Gods, Isola, I’m—” He stopped, his voice tight and angry. His eyes were squeezed closed, his face drawn into a grimace of displeasure. “I’m so sorry.”

  He didn’t wait to hear her reply, throwing back the curtain to escape the shower. Izzy scrambled after him and was rewarded by the sight of Grant drying his body with long, rough strokes that sent lust rushing through her. He was angry and guilty and utterly adorable.

  Not even wondering where her willpower had gone, she crossed the room and slipped her arms around his waist. His body went rigid as she pressed her body into his back.

  “Isola.” His voice held warning, danger, and arousal.

  She shivered, her hardened nipples poking into the satiny muscles of his back. “Shh,” she breathed against his skin. “Just relax.”

  He shuddered, bracing his hands on the counter in front of him. Peering over his shoulder, Izzy saw that his eyes were closed, the long lashes resting against his cheeks in an expression that would’ve been innocent if it hadn’t been for the stark lust on his face. Her hands were in a completely innocent spot, resting against the middle of his stomach, but that wasn’t where she wanted them to be.

  She pressed open-mouthed kisses against his shoulder as she stroked her hands over his rippling abdomen. His cock thrust high and proud. She nipped a small piece of skin as her right hand grasped the prize.

  They both groaned as her fist enclosed him. His head fell back and his lips parted as he dragged in a deep breath. The feel of him hard, hot, and silky made Izzy’s thighs clench with need. Her left hand slipped further down to cradle his balls, rolling them in her palm.

  She rested her forehead in the middle of his back, her breathing raspy and fast. She wanted him so much. She squeezed her hand around his cock, dragging a shuddering moan from deep within his chest.

  “Isola,” he groaned as she began to stroke him. “Gods, woman!”

  One of his big hands came up to clasp her more firmly around him, showing her the cadence he liked. Izzy hummed in pleasure, letting her brain flash pictures of what they looked like. Dampness coated her thighs, desire threatened to buckle her knees.

  “Faster.” His voice sent vibrations through her as he spoke. “Harder.”

  Biting her lip to stop a groan from escaping, she did as he asked, as he coaxed her faster with his hand. Soon his hips were thrusting into her downward strokes, moisture from his bulging tip providing lubrication for her hand. He was panting loudly, his hips churning in a frenzied rhythm she could barely keep up with.

  Then he let go, his seed bursting from him as he yelled to the ceiling. She felt every shudder, every burst of essence as it passed through his cock. Her legs felt weak, but she remained standing, not wanting him to know how much he affected her—as though he didn’t already have a clue, she thought with a roll of her eyes. She could smell her own arousal in the air and Grant, being a shifter, would’ve smelled it long before she did.

  He slumped forward, catching himself on the counter again as the last of his seed pulsed from his body. His body was a furnace and she eagerly pressed her cool, damp skin to his. Not that she was exactly cold, but he felt wonderful.

  She finally released his cock, somewhat reluctant to do so. It had felt…right in her hand, as though it was hers. Sliding her hands up his waist again, she gave him a tender squeeze. Maybe it was hers, she wondered as she pressed a kiss to his spine, maybe Grant really was her mate, a true Amazon mate.

  She stilled, her heart stuttering to a stop before galloping off again.

  Not every Amazon found her mate, but when they did, it was well known that she would brave the nine hells to keep him. Izzy hadn’t quite reached that point with Grant, but it was a near thing. Her body ached for him, but it wasn’t just sex, or at least not all about sex. She liked him. He was stubborn, funny, and loyal to his family.

  She was shaken out of her self-realization when Grant spun around, catching her around the waist with one thick arm. Turning again, he planted her on the countertop, his body shoved between her legs. His mouth ravaged hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth to tangle with hers.

  Fireworks went off throughout her body. The dusting of hair on his chest abraded her nipples with just the right amount of pressure to leave her panting for more—if she could breathe. Grant sucked the air right o
ut of her lungs, breathing it back into her as he refused to let her mouth go.

  His hands weren’t idle either. They roamed her back, tracing delicate patterns over the scars there before heading to her ass. Cupping her in his hands, he lifted her, grinding her exposed sex against the base of his belly.

  When he finally released her mouth, Izzy was rubbing her clit against his skin, wanting, no needing, release. He chuckled darkly as his hands left her ass to scoop up her breasts for his pleasure.

  Throwing her head back, she cried out as he tortured the sensitive flesh with his teeth. He wasn’t rough, and that was the problem. Grant nipped. He teased. He grazed and nibbled, but he never bit when a bite would have sent her over the edge. Then he put his tongue into the equation.

  The first swirl of his talented tongue sent convulsions of rapture through her womb. He laved her nipple with long, slow drags. His tongue danced around her peak before he settled his mouth on her and suckled. Izzy cried out, scraping her nails up the back of his neck to hold his head against her.

  She was going to die from the pleasure. Her hips gyrated against his stomach even as she told herself she needed to keep her head. She couldn’t have sex with him. That stupid bet and her own compulsive need for freedom held her back. Her spasming sheath didn’t give a rat’s ass what her brain wanted. It hungered for Grant’s cock, weeping for him.

  Grant’s mouth left her nipple with a soft pop before he tormented her other poor, neglected peak. She writhed on the countertop. She was going to come just from him suckling her breasts, she knew it! Her mouth gaped open as she tried to breathe. He left her again before she could reach climax. No, no!

  Izzy’s breath sawed in and out as he fell to his knees before her.

  “Grant, no.” The protest was weak, a bare whisper of sound with no real heat and he knew it.