The Hero I Need: A Small Town Romance

by Snow, Nicole

  She’s gripping the blanket like my mouth might give her the key to defying gravity.

  Come for me, woman.

  Come so hard you don’t even know what hit you.

  Just who.

  Me.

  As she goes over the edge with a glorious toss of her head, a full body shudder, her pussy drenches my face as I make her ride my beard. I’m smiling inwardly like a total fool.

  Guess that’s what happens when you bring your new obsession off so fucking hard that Sir Isaac Newton’s sweating in the corner, afraid his laws are shattered.

  We’re both floating, high on each other, and she comes beautiful.

  And my mouth isn’t done with her.

  My tongue plunges deeper into soft pink as her convulsions wane. I take her like that for several minutes, adding my fingers, flinging her back over the cliff.

  Her hips arch into me, even as her voice becomes one long whisper.

  “Grady...Grady! I-I can’t—”

  What? She thinks she can’t come for me again this soon?

  I smile as my fingers find that spot on her wall that silences her with a moan like melted caramel.

  Now she’s begging me to let her go because she can’t hold back much longer.

  I pull her down tighter against my face, lapping at her sweetness, determined to prove her wrong.

  My fingers fuck her in sync with my lashing tongue.

  When I move my lips to her clit, sucking it with a greedy fury, she’s going, going, gone.

  Her groan spills into one long gasp of shock and awe as her release hits like a drug.

  Her hot pussy clenches around my fingers, so tight I have to fight to keep going—and not to jizz myself when I imagine what it’d feel like pinching my dick—fingering her and sucking, dragging this out, robbing her senses for anything but diving bliss.

  Yeah, shit.

  Even though I love every scorching second, I’m also a little scared.

  I wonder just what the hell I’ve started.

  Because something says my new addiction to this woman and the sugar rush between her legs is going to be one cruel spell to break.

  Laughing, I finally release her when she’s panting for air, letting her collapse on top of me.

  My arms tangle around her, my hard-on seething against her soft belly. I’m intent on filling it up often tonight.

  “Damn you,” she rasps, her eyes shuddering. “You...you make me do things I didn’t even know were possible.”

  “Surprise,” I whisper. “And now that you’re warmed up, here comes the main course.”

  I’m dead serious.

  Reaching over, I grab one of the rubbers I’d put on the table by the futon earlier, while she and the girls were washing dishes and I’d brought down the bedding.

  Holding it up like the Holy Grail, I add, “I came prepared tonight. If that damn tiger breaks out again, he’s just gonna have to content himself with a drink at my bar. We’re. Not. Stopping.”

  She giggles. “I’m glad, too, about more than one thing.”

  She takes the package from me with a soft smile, rises up on her knees, and scoots backward, past my cock still standing as straight as a flag pole. Then she sits down slowly on my thighs, parting those legs.

  With nothing but vicious teases in her eyes, she tears the package open—but rather than pulling it out, she leans down and takes my cock in her mouth.

  “Fuck!” I grunt, my whole body tensing as her tongue coils down my shaft. She licks the huge vein running my length.

  Looks like it’s my turn for surprises, and I get them in spades.

  Seeing her mouth slip halfway down my shaft and slide up over my head destroys me.

  Feels so good I have to hold my breath to keep from losing it on the spot.

  Willow’s a sorceress with that tongue—or else I’m just that bricked, watching her take every inch of me she can.

  She’s a downright worshipful cocksucker.

  I think I’m in love.

  She kisses, licks, and pumps my shaft in her small hand till my whole spine ignites. Lava courses in my veins, and I’m too close for comfort, grabbing the sides of her head to make her stop at the last second.

  Fuck.

  Thank God she has more sense.

  It’s a mix of heady relief and savage disappointment when she pulls away with a parting kiss for my angry, throbbing cockhead.

  “Ready for me to put this on you...or should we give it another minute?” she asks with a wink, retrieving the condom from the package.

  “You damn well know I am.”

  She blushes as my gaze fuses to her, so hot I’m half expecting purple arcs of pure energy between our eyes.

  Smiling, she rolls the condom down the full, swollen length of me.

  My dick pulses in her hand, leaking with anticipation.

  “Oh, you are ready. Imagine that.”

  Damn her.

  “Hop on,” I bite off.

  Grinning with her eyes still blazing, she rises up on her knees and scoots forward, positioning herself above me. I fist her hair the second I’m able with one hand, grabbing at her shoulder, ready to impale her on my cock.

  “I get top this time,” she whispers, bringing those lips to mine like an encroaching storm.

  “Woman, you can get the moon and the stars as long as I get that pussy right the fuck now.” Growling, I grasp her hips as she slowly lowers, taking me into her slick silk.

  She’s hot and thoroughly soaked.

  Of-fucking-course she is.

  And it just makes me madder to break her in two as she leans her head back, arches her back, and thrusts her tits in front of my face.

  “Love the way you fill me, Grady. Oh, God.”

  I yank on her hair, twining it around my hand, beginning to shift my hips up into hers.

  Ten strokes in, I’m pounding her like an anvil, the delicious clap of our skin filling the silent night.

  I grasp her tit with my free hand, rolling her nip in my fingers, urging her to go for the end zone.

  “Something I love more,” I tell her, my voice a dull flame. “All of you. I love having you up to my balls like I’ve never loved anything.”

  The truth hurts, especially when it rips out of me, but it’s also the hottest pain of my life to put into words.

  My hips collide with hers, smacking loudly, our rhythm quickening.

  I sink down a little deeper with every stroke, stretching her till she gurgles sweetly, pulling at her hair so I get the whites of her eyes.

  Yeah, fuck, no doubt about it now.

  This woman was made to take me, take me hard, take me to the stars.

  She rises up and twists her hips down on me again, engulfing my length. Riding me like I’m a mechanical bull and I’m happy to oblige.

  She’s my chariot, a beautiful, blue-eyed unexpected mess I know I can’t keep.

  Trouble is, my dick has other plans, and that greedy cudgel beats me over the head with every stroke, as much as each savage thrust brings her a little closer to nirvana.

  A place where we don’t have to worry about Bruce or the kids or the assholes after her.

  A kingdom where it’s just me, her, and both of us sealed in sweet fuckery.

  Fused and forged and enraptured.

  Body, mind, and soul.

  And there’s so much soul when her next O erupts, my slashing strokes pounding it out of her. A snarl for her lips tears out of me as I smother her under my kiss.

  Give it the fuck up, pretty darlin’.

  Give it all up for me.

  She does, and beautifully.

  Every whimper falls against my tongue like she’s autumn wind and drifting bright leaves personified.

  It’s so unfathomably hot I’m near my limit.

  So I just grab on, letting the pleasure put me to work, lifting her fully onto the bed and laying her down. My cock slides in and knows it won’t stop till we’re both satisfied, spent, exploding.

&
nbsp; The inferno at the base of my spine is an urgent throb, a war drum, beating through my entire body as I slam into her, begging to be let loose.

  Her eyes are doing that pre-orgasmic oh-my-God-I-can’t flickering thing again.

  She grasps my biceps with both hands, holding on as I show her what it’s like when these hips go to eleven.

  The friction is an earthquake where we’re fused.

  Her tightness, her heat, her butterfly moans are the most sublime pleasure known to man, but watching her face, knowing she’s getting crushed as much as I am...

  Holy fucking shit.

  My climax is imminent, just as hers reaches fever pitch.

  I jerk her down with a fist back in her hair, pinning her to the mattress, ramming in so deep my balls slap her ass.

  She’s only seconds ahead of me, and the way every darling bit of her convulses tells me she’s coming like she never knew she could.

  My release kicks like an angry mule, winding me up, turning my groan into one big, dark feral echo of the fire lashing out my balls.

  We ride the pleasure tide together.

  Consumed.

  Destroyed.

  Rebuilt.

  Wave after wave after brutal fucking wave that tears us out of our bodies, joins our hearts, and power slams us back into ourselves.

  It goes on for an eternity till I learn a whole new meaning of drained.

  Damn.

  Then she collapses on my heaving chest, all warm curls and sighs, tucking her head under my chin. Almost like she needs to feel safe from what the fuck just happened.

  That makes two of us.

  After I roll off the condom and tie it shut, tossing it in a nearby garbage can, I fold my arms around her.

  It’s bittersweet holding her, unsure if I’ll ever find the words or the inspiration to describe just how amazing this is, and knowing she deserves to hear it.

  I’m also not sure we’ll survive when it ends—and end it fucking must, sooner or later.

  “Not bad. You’re not half bad, Grady McKnight,” she tells me with a smirk, tracing a teasing finger down my chest.

  Her coy tone makes me laugh.

  “You’ve had better? Bull. I know I haven’t, and I’m older than you.”

  “I mean...” She pauses, her eyes flashing with laughter. “Not in this lifetime. I think it was like, a couple thousand years ago when I was Cleopatra...”

  “What-the-hell-ever,” I growl, smiling anyway, giving her a long, solid hug, then kissing the tip of her ear.

  One thing’s for sure: I’ve never been this addicted to a woman, and I’m astonished I’m already hard again this soon.

  “Want to give me round two? No Roman boy ever laid it on like I’m about to,” I warn her, tugging at her bottom lip with my teeth while my fingers roll her nipple.

  “So much tough talk but...fine. I thought you’d never ask,” she whispers, her hand already sliding down my thigh, hot and eager to get started.

  * * *

  Okay.

  Shit.

  Last night was the kind of go at it till we’re boneless incredible that only happens once in a blue moon—and good thing too or I’d be six feet under—but I have to admit the morning is a close second.

  Waking up next to Willow and watching her sleep, makes me think about just how perfectly she fits in my arms.

  In my life.

  Before she showed up, I hadn’t even known I’d wanted that, much less how much my daughters needed a woman younger than Aunt Faye and Joyce in their lives.

  In just a few weeks, they’ve come to adore the shit out of Willow. I’ve seen a change in them since she’s arrived. Hell, a change in everything.

  A happiness, a wholeness, a sweetness that was missing from our lives.

  And I have no frigging clue what I’ll do with that once she’s gone.

  Another fact I can’t help noting—having a morning quickie is one awesome start to the day.

  What starts with a round of good morning kisses and gentle touches rapidly devolves into her on all fours, begging for my finest.

  She takes me like our whole day depends on it—if not her life—grinding her hips back on my shaft as I crash into her from behind.

  It’s fast, coarse, and so intense it scalds me when I empty my balls inside her, hating the condom between us.

  Somehow, some way, I’m going to come inside this woman if it’s the last thing I do.

  A minor miracle happens when we’re finally able to peel ourselves off each other, clean up, and head up for breakfast.

  The text message from Drake that arrives while we’re eating is good news.

  He’s managed to squelch the posts online about a big cat sighting by putting out an official post from the police department, confirming a probable mountain lion.

  The odd cougar isn’t that unusual in these parts. We’re also damn lucky there were a few wildcat sightings last week around Dickinson.

  Just close enough to make our cover story believable.

  “Must be nice having friends in high places,” Willow says after I read his post to her.

  “Even nicer having a bud who only works to help this town out.” I smile as she lifts her brows. “Drake married a billionaire oil heiress, so he’s not in it for the money. If he’s got any sheriff ambitions, they’re right behind his need to serve and protect.”

  Her eyes grow wide as she glances at the girls and then back to me.

  “So, um, is everyone either crazy rich or a movie star or a super hot ex-military guy in this town?” she asks.

  “Dallas is special, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. We’re one big messed up family, secrets and all. Sorta happens when it’s a part of life being up in everybody else’s business.” I chuckle, loving how pink her cheeks get.

  She shakes her head at me.

  “I thought it’d be boring here. Apparently, I have a lot to learn about small-town life,” she says.

  “You’re getting the accelerated course.”

  Okay, yeah, I know this banter feels like high school shit.

  Still, I’d be lying if I claimed I wasn’t delighted by how easy, carefree, and light every word feels. I haven’t had this in forever—a woman who can hold a conversation that makes me feel good.

  No, that wasn’t Brittany’s fault. Not when she was ravaged by disease, and I made my choice to bury my baser needs for the sake of raising our kids after her death.

  But hell, having breakfast with Willow at the table gives me something I never even knew I was missing.

  The girls are still sleepy after just waking up, stuffing food in their mouths and not looking at either one of us, so I reach under the table and brush a hand over Willow’s thigh.

  How the hell can I resist?

  How can I even think when every glance, every word, every breath feels charged when she’s sharing the room?

  “Does anyone want more waffles?” she says cheerily, grabbing my wrist.

  The girls shake their heads but compliment her with a thumbs-up on how delicious they are.

  “Great choice this morning,” I tell her, adding my appreciation. “Can’t remember the last time I broke out the old waffle iron. Much less ate a batch this good—and no, I’m not keeling over yet either.”

  She winks back at my food poisoning joke, the shine in her eyes saying she’s arrived on cloud nine.

  As soon as they’re done, I send them upstairs to get dressed.

  Before Willow gets a chance to reprimand me on teasing her in front of the girls, I bury her lips under mine.

  Honestly, the waffles were tasty, but this?

  Tasting her is heaven sent to earth.

  She leans against me as we break for air.

  “We have to be careful,” she whispers softly. “Including any innuendo.”

  I fully get that, but damn it’s been a long time since I’ve had this much fun.

  “Don’t worry.” I kiss her forehead and release her. “I’ll behav
e around my girls. When they’re otherwise preoccupied, though...no promises, lady.”

  “Easier said than done,” she says darkly, a wry smile on her lips.

  “Nah, I’m thinking it might just be easier done. Every single night,” I growl, running my hands down her back and pinching her ass.

  Shit, I’m bad.

  I give her a parting set of bedroom eyes as I leave the room.

  It takes a few hours of chores to realize I shouldn’t have been so flippant.

  * * *

  So maybe I was thinking with my little head and temporarily forgot that the situation we’re in is truly dangerous.

  It’s still on my mind when Faulk drops by with the computer she’d snatched from the refuge.

  “Good news: the laptop’s been cracked like a walnut,” Faulk says with a triumphant grin.

  “There’s bad news, isn’t there? What is it?” I ask.

  From the moment he parked outside, I could tell by his face that he wasn’t here to deliver an easy fix.

  Faulk sighs, rubbing his chin as he says, “The help I called in to decrypt this machine are good men, a lot of current FBI agents. Unfortunately, that means what they found has to be followed up on by the bureau itself.” His gaze is grave as his green eyes slash from me to Willow. “And that necessity leaves the folks in this room open to serious allegations and a formal look from the government.”

  The news is a fucking uppercut.

  I’m too winded for words.

  “You mean for...for stealing Bruce and the laptop?” Willow asks, nodding along, her face going slack. “And the truck and trailer. Jesus.”

  Faulk gives a single sad nod.

  “Those are all pretty minor compared to what’s been found, sad to say.”

  The knot in my stomach hardens into rock.

  “What the hell did you find?” I wish I didn’t need to ask.

  “Well. You’ve heard the old adage, 'follow the money?' That’s exactly what we did, a whole lot of tracing. Turns out, the Fosses look pretty clean.” Faulk’s gaze snaps to Willow. “You, on the other hand, appear to be money laundering.”

  “What?” she hisses, her brows pulling together. “Me? Money laundering? How?”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Faulk?” Anger barrels up my throat. “That’s fucking nuts. You know she’d never, ever—”