by Josie Kerr
“Wow. I . . . don’t know what to say.”
“The first time I got a hint that the way I was growing up was not normal was when I played on that rec team.” Pierce curled his hand around Annie’s neck.
“How did you feel about that?”
She could feel him shrug. “Pissed. Jealous. The other kids thought it was the coolest thing ever, to not have to go to school or really deal with adult supervision. I thought it was awesome when someone’s mom invited me over for dinner.”
“Oh, Damon.” She turned her head and buried her face in his chest, hugging him even tighter. No wonder he tried to hang on so tightly even if the thing he clung to wasn’t good for him.
He cleared his throat. “So, yeah. That’s me. I know I’m fucked up.”
Annie laughed a little. “Well, you might be, but you’re about the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”
“Shit. You must know some real bastards.” But he smiled.
“Oh, honey, you have no idea. But, you do. Anyway, I have some things to say about us.”
“Um, sure.”
She broke the embrace and sat down on the edge of the narrow bed.
Okay, Annie, just spit it out.
“Damon, I care for you, okay, but . . . oh, don’t you groan at me. This is not that kind of talk.”
Pierce arched an eyebrow at her but kept silent.
“I want to keep doing whatever it is we’re doing, but you have to understand that I have spent the last seventeen, no, the past thirty-three years being told what to do and when to do it, without any input, without any consideration of what I wanted or needed. That means that you don’t get to tell me what to do. I know you’re just trying to make sure I’m safe, and I appreciate that. But my father thought he was doing what was best for me, and believe it or not, I think Jeff did, too, at least for a while. But they weren’t and they didn’t, and I’m not going to live like that again. What I’m saying is that you can’t control me, but I’m yours. Okay, Damon Pierce? I am yours.”
Her speech done, Annie waited, gazing steadily into Pierce’s eyes, which were looking steadily back at her. Just when she was getting ready to scream at him to say something, his face broke into a brilliant, dimply smile, and he pulled her into his arms and sealed his mouth over hers.
They were still wrapped around each other when Colin knocked and stuck his head inside the apartment.
“Hey, Pierce, why—whoa, okay. I was just going to tell you to take tonight off and . . . well, you know what the last night before training camp’s like. So. You do that. Okay.” He saluted and went right back out the door.
“What in the world?” Annie laughed at Colin’s pink ears but was surprised at Pierce’s equally pink cheeks. “Damon?”
“Feel like another date?” Pierce asked with that shy grin of his.
Chapter Twenty-four
Pierce had shown up precisely at six o’clock with dinner, a mixed bouquet, and no duffel bag. They had eaten, cleaned up the kitchen, and now they lounged on the couch, not really watching a movie.
Annie was in the corner of the couch, much like she had been when she’d panicked before, but instead of cowering, she lay relaxed with Pierce sprawled on top of her, almost asleep. He knew he shouldn’t spend the night, mainly because he needed to be at the fight club at an insanely early hour. At least, that’s what he told himself. But Annie’s hands roaming all over his back and caressing the back of his neck made it very, very tempting to stay.
She shifted under him, rocking her hips upward and wiggling a little before making a small, satisfied noise.
Damn. Instantly hard.
“Am I too heavy, darlin’?” Pierce hoped he sounded nonchalant, whereas every ounce of his being wanted to crawl all over her.
“No, you’re good.”
Pierce tilted his head up at the timbre of her voice. Annie bit her plump lower lip, and he could see her pulse thrumming in the dip in her neck. Her eyes shined with mischief, and she ducked her head down to place a soft kiss on his mouth.
Pierce chuckled and then kissed her back. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand before shifting a bit. Annie sighed as he pressed his mouth against the smooth skin of her neck, working his way from her chin down to the sensitive spot right between her breasts.
Annie ran her foot along Pierce’s calf and up his thigh.
“Sweet girl,” he whispered when she wriggled again. Pierce slid his hands around her hips and pulled her closer. “You make me crazy.” He worked his hands under her shirt and did his own roaming along her back.
“Damon?” Annie squeaked when he slid the tips of his fingers below her waistband.
“Sorry, babe.” He kissed her mouth again and then pushed himself up. He ran his hand over his head. “Sorry. I got ahead of myself.”
Annie walked on her knees across the sectional to sit very close to him. “What . . . what if you didn’t get ahead of yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean”—Annie slid into his lap so that she sat face-to-face with him—“I mean, you know. Well, I mean.” Annie leaned over and pressed her lips to his neck.
“Holy fuck, Annie. Shit.” Pierce gripped her hips, grinding against her twice before stopping and reclining his head on the back of the couch.
He didn’t let go of her hips, nor did he pull back. He wanted to press against every inch of her, inside and out.
Palms flat, Annie ran her hands over his shoulders, and when she bit her lip again, Pierce thought he was going to lose his mind.
“So, when you were reading my book,” she began.
“Yeah? That book is something else.” Pornographic is what that book is.
“There was this scene, you know, earlier in the book . . .”
“Yeah?” Pierce thought he might like where this was headed.
“You know, in the kitchen, this morning? When you . . .” She sat back and began to unbutton that white shirt he liked so much, dropping it off of one shoulder.
Pierce was almost stupid with lust, so he just nodded for her to go on. She gave him a shy grin but then shimmied, and the shirt dropped to the ground behind her. So there she sat, in her soft cotton bra and a pair of tight leggings, on Pierce’s lap. Her nipples were already erect, jutting out through the material of her soft cotton bra, and Pierce had to get his hands on them.
“Your turn.”
Pierce had never rid himself of a shirt so quickly.
Annie ran her hands all over his naked chest, tracing the heavy ink of his tattoo. Pierce sat motionless, loving the feel of her small hands on his body and her hot pussy pressing against his hard-on.
“I like this.” Her fingers danced down his chest to pluck at his nipples.
“Fuck, Annie.” Pierce tangled his fingers in her hair, and he caught her mouth in a hot, desperate kiss.
“I want to make you come like I did before,” he breathed in her ear. “Please?” He continued to stroke her.
“Please.”
“All right. Here we go.”
Pierce thrust the hand that wasn’t playing with her nipple into her pants, underneath her panties. His thick middle finger stroked her seam, and he brushed against her nub. Annie arched her back, pushing her breast into his hand and grinding against his hard-on.
It was Pierce’s turn to groan. “Fuck me, Annie. Goddamn.”
He thumbed her nipple a little bit harder and rubbed her clit a little bit faster.
“Damon . . .”
And then Pierce bit her shoulder as he rolled her nipple and her clit between his fingers. She shuddered and bucked against his hand, throwing her head back and thrashing against him.
“I’m dying to taste you, Annie.” Pierce kissed his way across her collarbone and shoulder. “I want my mouth on you, on all of you.”
She stilled, and Pierce was instantly on alert. “Annie? What’s wrong?”
She flushed, all her bravado and confidence gone.
“Um, n-no one’s e
ver done that to me, you know, before. I-I-I don’t groom. You saw that in the shower this morning.” Her neck was bright red, but her face was pale and her breathing quickened. Pierce was afraid she was going to work herself up into a panic attack.
Pierce stroked her chin with a calloused thumb and then sealed his mouth over hers. After he had thoroughly kissed her silly, he leaned back and quirked an eyebrow.
“Annie, baby, never, ever feel like you have to do anything to your body to make me happy, especially if you don’t want to do it.”
“But I know that a lot of men like shaved . . .”
Pierce rolled his eyes. “Honey, I’m going to like your pussy however you choose to give it to me, whenever—if—you ever choose to bless me. Okay?”
“Oh my gosh,” she giggled again, turning a delightful shade of pink. “Yes?”
Pierce grinned and gently laid her back on the couch. He nibbled on her neck, her chin, the space behind her ear that made her gasp, all while he worked her leggings and panties over her hips and down her legs, dropping the last of her clothing to the floor.
He sat up, and froze, because Annie, this beautiful, strong, shy woman, lay naked in front of him. Her lips were pink and swollen from his kisses, and a sheen of perspiration lay across her body.
“You have too many clothes on.” Her voice was huskier than normal.
Pierce grinned and immediately dropped his pants. Annie’s jaw dropped in shock, and Pierce had to close his eyes because the thought of that sweet mouth around his cock was going to end things before they began.
“Damon.”
Pierce went to her, making love to her with his mouth, with his hands. He worshipped her body, stroking and petting her until she thrummed with pleasure.
“Please . . .”
Pierce lightly pinched that sensitive nub between his calloused fingers as he bit down lightly on one nipple, and she shrieked his name and knocked the lamp over with her flailing.
She repeated his name as she came down until she spoke in nothing but a whisper. She lay on the couch, sprawled out, skin glistening. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Damon,” she whispered. “Stay. Even if it’s just for a little while.”
So he did.
And when he got up to dress three hours after he lay there in her bed, not sleeping, just looking at her, she rolled over and sleepily grinned at him.
He leaned down and kissed her as he zipped his fly and fastened the button on his waistband.
“Sweetheart, I gotta go. I’ll call you tonight?” He kissed her again.
“Okay. Just wait until I wear the magic panties. I’ll blow your flipping mind.” And she fell back asleep.
Honey, my mind’s already blown.
Chapter Twenty-five
Good morning, beautiful.
Annie grinned at Pierce’s text message. They had texted every night and morning, small snippets, not much, but Annie hadn’t felt this light, this fulfilled in years. Pierce encouraged her, comforted her when a deal fell apart, and Annie supported Pierce in turn even though she didn’t know much about fighting at all. Thank goodness Ashley was giving her a crash course in MMA before the fight. Pierce was halfway through his training camp, so it would be five more days before she saw him in person again. Five days, less than a week. It seemed an interminable amount of time.
She tapped out a response, promising to talk in the evening. She grinned to herself as she prepped for her afternoon meeting at an upscale condo complex.
Her desk phone rang. “Hello, Standings Real Estate, Annie speaking.”
No one was on the other end, but she didn’t hear a click, so she put aside her niggling feeling, hung up the phone, and continued gathering brochures and sell sheets to take with her to her meeting.
A few hours later, Annie stumbled back into the office, starving, but triumphant. Her latest client had been looking for a block of condos to rent as corporate apartments, and with the help of Ashley, Annie had secured a three-year lease on the entire complex—twenty units. She was still in shock.
“Hey, Hilary. Are there any messages for me?”
“No, just the delivery.” The receptionist pointed toward a medium-sized box on the side of the high desk. “I was just going to take it back to your office.”
“Oh, good. Just in time. I used my last sell sheet today.” Annie wrestled with the box. “Thank you, Hilary. Can you ring me when Ashley comes back?”
“Sure thing.”
Annie, despite her fatigue, practically skipped to her office. She was still feeling a bit giddy as she tore off the wrapper to her protein bar with her teeth while she rummaged in her desk to find something to open the box. Chewing and humming, she slit the seals and opened the box.
“Dang, too much packaging,” she muttered when she saw the box nested inside the first. The inner box was jammed in so tightly that she couldn’t just lift it, so, armed with her trusty letter opener, she began to work on the seams of one side.
“Good grief—more packaging? Watch the corners be all bent anyway.”
She unsealed the inner package and pulled off the top.
And screamed at the top of her lungs.
Robert Standings ran into the office. “Annie, what in the worl—what is that smell?”
“It’s . . . it’s . . . oh my goodness, I’m gonna vomit.” Annie fell to her knees and promptly vomited into the wastebasket. “Don’t look inside, Robert. Just . . . don’t.”
Robert shrieked. “Oh my God, there’s something moving in there!”
“I know!”
Ashley peeked in the office. “Oof! That’s worse than a week-old-diaper pail. Good God A’mighty. What are you two—dear Jesus, that’s awful! Oh my God—out. Out, out, out!”
Ashley hustled Annie and Robert out the door and slammed it. “I’m calling Johnny. And Rory. And Kyle. Hell, I’ll just call them all.”
Annie eyed the four men that huddled with Ashley at the end of the conference room. They kept looking back at her and would nod or give her a thumbs-up when they caught each other’s eyes. She smiled back at them because she really did appreciate them all dropping everything and running over, but she’d already had a conversation today with a man about how she didn’t need him to swoop in and try to save her. She didn’t need to have that same conversation with four men whom she wasn’t sleeping with.
It was getting irritating, and she was enough on edge that her fuse was very, very short.
It got a whole lot shorter when Johnny Richards slid into a rolling chair and sidled next to her.
“Annie.”
“Johnny.”
“Well, darling, I have some good news and some bad news.”
“ ‘Darling’?” Annie huffed. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight. I was talked down to for seventeen years. You do not get to condescend to me even if you are older and are a senior detective. Are we clear? If we aren’t, you can run on over to DS Fight Club and have Pierce give you a little recap of our conversation.”
Johnny blinked at her. “Um, yes, ma’am. We are completely clear, and I am very sorry. I’m used to women who—”
“You talk to Ashley like that?”
“Uh, no. She would kick my ass.”
“Do you talk to other women in that tone?”
Another brother, Darren, rolled over to her other side. “Hell no. Dolly would have your nuts in her handbag. Er, pardon me.”
“Dolly?”
“His partner.” Darren seemed about to say something else, but he snapped his mouth shut and just smiled blandly.
“Are you through?” Johnny glared at his brother. “As I was saying, I have good news and bad news. Because she got caught in Atlanta, and because she has some serious history with Colin, Bailey, and Pierce, Andrea Michaels was already on our radar in a big way even before you had your little encounter with her. The bad news is we’ve not seen hide nor hair of the woman since you had your alleged encounter.”
�
�Alleged?” Annie shrieked. “She stole my driver’s license! She ripped pages from my calendar!”
“Now, calm down. We looked at video footage, but unfortunately, the table where you and Pierce were sitting is out of range.”
“Oh, that figures. Dang it.” Her shoulders slumped. “What I am going to do?”
“Well, first of all, I have to ask: is there anyone else who would have reason to send something like that to you?”
“Well, I am recently divorced, and my husband, er, ex-husband was not happy at all. There was an encounter here. But I haven’t seen him since that day. I haven’t even heard from him.”
Now Rory rolled over to the table. “Yeh, I physically removed him from the building and threatened to beat his arse if he ever came near her again. A little Doyle Restraining Order, if you will.” He winked at Annie, who rolled her eyes.
Johnny rubbed his face. “Rory, don’t tell me shit like that, okay? Good God A’mighty. That said, we need to check this out. I’ll need all his information.”
Yet another Richards slid up to the table and stuck out his hand. “Annie, my name’s Kyle. After the issue with your ex, Ashley asked me to run some surveillance on him. I’ve got film on him as recent as a few days ago. I’ll forward the info to you, Johnny. Unfortunately, what Johnny said was true regarding Andrea—no sightings at all. We’ll cross our fingers that she’s long gone, but we’ll definitely keep an eye out for her.”
“I guess that will have to be good enough, right?” Annie scanned from face to concerned face.
“I wish you’d consider staying somewhere else, the fight club, maybe, until we’re sure who’s where.”
“Oh, no. Pierce has a fight. I’m not going to be in the middle of that. This is really big for him. And don’t tell him about the package. It’s five more nights, and then we can figure out what to do next.”
Johnny raised his hands helplessly. “I don’t like it, but we’ll honor your wishes. Just make sure you stay on your toes and keep hyperaware of your surroundings.”