She nodded and burrowed her hands underneath his shirt while he located his wallet. He abandoned his search to stop her with a hand on her wrist. Things were going from bad to worse.
“I—” He what? What could he possibly say here? The truth was that he didn’t want her to see his naked chest because she might see the scar he had from that time Joey Fabrizzi shot him with a BB gun. They’d spent several days on the beach every summer, and she’d seen his chest many times. Even if it was too steamy to get a good look at the scar, who knew if she’d recognize the rest? Hell, now that he’d seen her breasts, they’d be committed to memory for life. In fact, he’d be able to pick them out in a room filled with breasts. So what to say to her now, when the look of wild abandon was slowly changing back to one of insecurity?
“I’m a little cold,” he said.
Because they were in a sauna. So that made sense. He was clearly not in a position to talk his way out of this one, so he did the next best thing. Distraction. He swiveled his hips, grinding his aching cock against her sweet spot until her eyes drifted closed and her hand lay limp in his. He didn’t stop as he searched the billfold still in his pocket until he found the emergency condom that he’d kept there precisely for this occasion. The day that Gracie finally realized that she wanted to sleep with him.
He continued his pelvic grind while he made quick work of the wrapper. She opened her eyes at the tearing sound and shifted away so he could slip it on. It took some doing since he was hard as a baseball bat, but then it was done and she sat back on her heels, staring down at him.
“Ready?” she asked, a shy, but hungry smile playing around her full lips.
He was way the fuck past ready. “Yeah.”
She took him awkwardly in hand and shimmied over him. After a few misses and one mortified but funny, “Oops, wrong door!” she settled over him with a sigh, sinking by centimeters onto his straining shaft. It seemed like a year before she was fully seated, but it was the best, most excruciating year of his life. He was buried deep and could feel the stretch of her channel, fluttering, opening to accommodate him. He lifted his head to look. To see himself inside her, but the expression on her face caught him. Her head was thrown back, the mane of curls that he loved wild around her shoulders, her mouth a pretty “o” and her brow wrinkled like she was in pain…but not.
He pumped his hips once, nudging deeper still, and she gasped.
“It’s so full. I just want to stay—”
He thrust up again, angling into the general g-spot area. Hopefully—
“Son of a bitch!” she snarled, her thighs working up before slamming down again and taking him back to that place. No more cockadoodly. She was letting the curses fly now. That was excellent. Her frown deepened, and the chanting started again. He watched, enthralled as she fucked him, sliding high, then plummeting down, all the while whispering. “What is that? That’s soooo…”
He wanted to take it slow. To keep that even, driving pace until she couldn’t stand it for another second. To make her wait for it. To make her come. And then come again. But she’d found something she wanted now, and it was clear that she wasn’t going to stop until she got it.
He ignored his body’s urgent messages, telling him that if he didn’t slow her down, he was going to explode. Instead, he clenched every muscle and began a mental chant of his own. “Do not fucking blow this. Do not fucking blow this. Do not fuck—”
“Oh-god-Jesus.” Grace arched over him, her back bowed so hard he feared she might snap in two. Her eyes were squeezed closed tight, and her mouth worked wordlessly now. He was in awe of how damned beautiful she was, but it was the activity on the bottom half that had him barreling toward home. She clenched over him in pulsing waves, her tight channel milking his cock, relentlessly.
Lights exploded behind his eyelids, and the breath sawed in and out of his lungs. He let go while she still shuddered above him and came hard on a low growl, his shaft jerking and pumping into her. He curled his arms around her bottom and pinned her against him tight as he emptied himself into her clutching heat. For a full minute afterward, he couldn’t speak for fear of what crazy thing he might say.
Gracie, I’ve waited so long for this and the reality makes the fantasy seem like dime-store viewing-room porn.
Gracie, it’s really me and I love you.
Gracie, will you fucking marry me?
“That was…” She didn’t finish her sentence. She just buried her face into his neck and laughed.
He tried to catch his breath and respond, but then something tickled his nose. He reached up a hand to find the right side of his mask hanging limply against his skin. He froze, his already hammering heart speeding up to triple time. Between the steam and the sweat, they’d managed to screw the mask right off his face.
She shifted, starting to pull back, but he held her close, panic making his throat constrict. “Grace, listen. I know when I tell you this—” he could barely choke the words out “—you’re going to think it’s a blow off. But I’m asking you to trust me that it’s not, all right?”
She stiffened in his arms, and he almost swore out loud. Already she was steeling herself, slipping away from him, but what choice did he have? If he told her the truth now, she would never forgive him. He just needed to buy a little time. Time to figure out what to do next. Time for her to miss good old Catman. Time for her to get used to the idea that she wasn’t just ready for a new relationship, she wanted one. With him.
“Say it, whatever it is.” Her voice was grim, and he wanted to howl in frustration. He’d needed maybe ten more minutes out of that glue. Ten. Minutes.
He took a breath and said what he had to say. “I have to go. I was supposed to meet a buddy half an hour ago, but I was so distracted with you, I lost track of time.”
He expected a way different reaction than the one he got, like a dirty look and a verbal smackdown. Maybe even a slap on the face for the apparent wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. But leave it to Gracie to take his words at face value.
“Oh. Well, that’s okay. I wasn’t expecting a proposal or anything.” She struggled against him in earnest now, and he released her, cupping his hand to his face to hold the mask in place. “But did you think it was…good? Like, what we did?” She was aiming for casual, but her eyes were filled with uncertainty.
God, he was an asshole. And she trusted him. “It wasn’t good. It was excellent.” He wished he didn’t have the stupid contacts in so she could at least see the truth of that in his eyes.
She must have believed him, though, because a smile lit her whole face. “Do you think you maybe want to do it again sometime?”
“Definitely. Absolutely. In fact, if I had my way, we’d be doing it again right now.” He flexed his hips to emphasize his point.
“You can call me,” she said, before hurriedly adding, “if you want.”
“I want. There is no question of that.” Already, this whole thing was spiraling out of control. The plan—what little of it there was—had been to get close to her for the night, romance her some, and then tell her the truth and how he’d felt about her. But he needed a little more time with her. Time to show her how good it could be between them so she could see that it was worth it to take a chance on him. One night wasn’t going to cut it. He had no idea how he was going to make it happen, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.
He took care of the condom while she dressed and then got dressed himself, turning his back so she couldn’t see his drooping mask. When he turned around again and asked for her phone number, she rattled it off while he pretended to add it to his contact list with his free hand.
“Got it,” he said and slipped the mercifully non-descript mobile back into his pocket.
He had to get out of there, but he found he couldn’t stop looking at her with her sexy pink cheeks and swollen mouth. A fine sheen of sweat shone on her skin and her hair was a tumbled mess. She was the stuff wet dreams were made of, and if he’d had a garage, t
here’d be a calendar of her hanging on the wall.
She shifted beneath his intense gaze. “Since you’re going, I guess I’ll go back to the party now and see how Serena’s making out.”
“I’ll walk you back to your friend so you’re not alone.” He dreaded the thought of seeing Serena again before he had a chance to explain, but it didn’t feel right just walking out on Grace.
“That’s okay, I already feel like there’s a giant neon sign over my head, flashing ‘Freshly Laid,’ or something, and she’s going to grill me about this anyway, so I’d rather not give her additional ammunition.”
He’d just have to hope that the grilling didn’t end with a big reveal out of Serena. But it was out of his hands for now, so he nodded and stepped back. “Okay, I understand. But how about one for the road?”
Just in case it all hit the fan, he dipped his head low and pressed his lips to hers for one more kiss. She opened them eagerly, and what was meant to be a goodbye had his just-sated body waving hello again.
He drew back slightly. “I’m very glad to have made your acquaintance, Ms. Love,” he whispered against her mouth. And with that, he let her go, turned on his heel, and walked out the door.
By the time he reached his car, his insides were wrecked. The elation he’d felt had already faded, and a sense of hollowness had started to set in. He’d waited so long for Gracie to give him a chance…to see him as someone who could be a hell of a lot more than a friend. She’d given someone a chance tonight, but to her mind, it hadn’t been him. He’d lied to her. Pretended to be someone he wasn’t. Now he had better make sure it was worth it, for both their sakes.
Chapter Six
“You had sex with him?” Serena stared at her from across the granite island of Grace’s kitchen, mouth agape, and set down her forkful of grapefruit. “Like, the full Monty?”
Grace nodded, tugging at a loose piece of rattan on the seat of her stool. In spite of her embarrassment, she couldn’t stop the grin from stretching her mouth. “Yup.”
“Inside Chaz’s house?”
“Yup.”
She searched her conscience for some guilt but couldn’t find even a drop. Regret that he’d left so quickly? Yes. But she wasn’t in love, so it wasn’t a heartbreak. She hardly knew him, and no matter what, he’d given her a big piece of something she could never repay. Her confidence.
Once Grace had wiped the stupid grin off her face and gone back out to the party the night before, Serena had been MIA. When Grace checked her phone, there was a text saying she’d finished her meeting with Chaz and was headed to a booty call but that she would catch up with her in the morning. That had given Grace enough time to decide exactly how much to tell her friend about her night with Catman.
In spite of her resolve to keep it to herself for a little while, the second Serena showed up with fruit and bagels that morning, it had all but exploded from her lips. After all, it wasn’t often a girl got her mind blown by a stranger. At least, not this girl.
“So what now? Are you guys going to go out again or?”
Serena had apparently digested the information thoroughly enough to resume picking at her breakfast again, and chomped on a segment of fruit while Grace debated on exactly how to answer that question.
“I’m not exactly sure. He had to leave right after…you know.”
Grace set her fork down again with a clatter. “Oh he did, did he? That motherf—”
“Take a pill. It’s not like that.” In spite of her reassurance, she really had no idea if it was “like that” or not, but judging by the rising fury on Serena’s face, it was better to placate her instead of risking her friend hunting poor Catman down and showing him what kind of damage a super-villain could really inflict. “He had to go, but he said he’d be in touch.”
It sounded lame even to her ears, but for some reason, she had believed him. He’d looked so sincere.
“I’m sure that no guy has ever said that after sex,” Serena snorted.
“I think he was telling the truth. Maybe I’m naive, but you know what?” She shrugged and laughed, feeling more free and relaxed than she’d felt in years. “I don’t care. I mean, I’m hoping he does call, but either way, I’m glad it happened. Vic did such a job on me about the whole sex thing and this? Was liberating. I might be ready to actually get out there again and try to meet someone now.”
Serena nodded slowly and pushed her half-empty plate away. “That makes me really happy to hear you say that. That prick did enough damage, and you’ve wasted enough time on him.” She leaned forward, a mischievous light in her china-blue eyes. “So dish the deets. Was he hung or what?”
Grace didn’t answer, but her cheeks burned as she busied herself fussing with the fake flower arrangement on the table.
Serena squealed with glee. “Yes! Awesome. Way to pick ‘em, doll. So what else?”
She opened her mouth to tease her a little and tell her that nice girls didn’t kiss and tell right before she spilled the beans on her wild night, but the doorbell rang. She got up to answer it, and a tingle radiated from her chest. Could it be? Of course not. He didn’t even know where she lived, for crying out loud.
The door swung open before she got there, and Trick and his mutt, Skeeter, stepped inside. Weird because he never used the bell, usually opting instead for a quick knock before coming right in. And weirder still, the tingles were in full force, same as always when Trick came around. She’d thought those had been fixed last night, once she’d zeroed in on Catman, but apparently that wasn’t the case. So did that mean he wasn’t right for her either? Maybe he wouldn’t call after all. What was that about the cobbler’s son never having shoes?
She slapped on a smile and met Trick’s gaze. For a brief second, she wondered if he could tell what she’d been up to. She resisted the sudden urge to fix her hair, or check for a scarlet letter on her shirt. Did she look guilty? And why did she care if she did? He’d be happy for her, wouldn’t he? For some reason, the thought made her just a little less enthusiastic than she’d been a minute before.
“Hey, how was the party last night?” he asked, his signature grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Speaking of which, that was a pretty sexy mouth…
Great. One night of awesome nookie and now she was going to turn into a sex maniac. Vic would be so pleased to know that he’d been right all along. “It went really well,” she said, hesitating to say more. Trick closed the door behind him and wiped his work boots on the welcome mat.
“She did it with a guy who had a really big schlong,” Serena called from the kitchen island.
Grace closed her eyes and wanted to melt right into the floor. She had imagined telling Trick that she’d met someone and they’d hooked up, but she never planned on telling him all that. Especially the schlong part.
She cleared her throat and met Trick’s gaze, wondering if her face was as red as one of the poppies on her kitchen table. “Um, so that’s TMI, I’m sure.”
The smile had ramped up from a solid seven to a glaring eleven and he seemed positively stoked over the news of her debauchery. Well, why shouldn’t he be? They were friends, after all. And maybe he’d had a big night too. The thought of Trick doing the same thing she’d done last night with someone else made her stomach clench around that giant bagel she’d horked down a few minutes before. Not cool. These stupid tingles were messing with her head.
“Not TMI. I’m actually happy to hear it,” he said, making his way into the kitchen over to the coffee pot to pour himself a mug. “You haven’t dated since you moved here, and I was starting to worry. It’s about time you got out there. Someone you met at Chaz’s party or someone you know?”
“Nope. Never met him before.”
“And he was hung, huh?”
She shook her head and glared at Serena. “She said that, not me.”
“So, he wasn’t hung, or?” He looked decidedly less enamored with her tale and she changed the subject quickly. It had been fun rehashing her n
ight with Serena, but with Trick it felt…off.
“Enough about me,” she said, opting to ignore and deflect. “What did you do last night?” Had his shoulders always looked so broad in that black peacoat? She resisted the urge to check her upper lip for sweat. Was it actually possible that one night of sex had turned her into some sort of nympho or something? Because she literally could not stop thinking about it.
“Not too much. Hung out with Alec for a while and then chilled around the house.” He looked away and snapped his fingers, beckoning Gandalf over. The dog hoisted himself from his doggy bed, plodded across the room and laid a slobbery kiss on his jeans-clad thigh. “Hey buddy, want to go for a walk today?” he murmured, rubbing the mastiffs big, square head.
Serena didn’t get the memo that they’d moved on to a new topic, and she slid off her stool. “So did she tell you her mystery man was dressed like a panther? Sexy, right? And he talked like Batman.”
“That sounds like fun.” He turned his attention back to Grace. “How did your ghost costume go?”
“It didn’t. I ended up going as a slutty vampire hunter.”
“Hey! That wasn’t slutty. You looked sexy and kickass. You acted slutty,” Serena said proudly.
Grace punched her friend on the arm and laughed in spite of her embarrassment. “I know I should be ashamed of myself, but I can’t find it in me.”
“Glad you weren’t saying that last night,” Serena deadpanned.
Trick held up a hand for a fist bump and Serena obliged him. “So are you going out with this guy again or what?”
“I’m not sure,” she hedged. It shouldn’t matter one bit between friends but for some reason, she couldn’t stand the idea of Trick thinking that she’d been such a lousy lay that her date from the night before had run out without bothering to set up a second meeting. Still, she hated the thought of lying to him even more.
“He said he’d be in touch,” Serena added. “I don’t know about you, but I think guys who say that and don’t call are the worst kind of scum.”
Trick looked thoughtfully off into the distance and went so quiet that Grace started to wonder if he’d tuned them out to pay attention to the news playing on the TV in the background when he nodded and turned his gaze on Serena. “Agreed.”
Her friends had a short but awkward staring contest, and a kernel of jealousy lodged itself neatly into Grace’s chest. What was going on with those two today? They’d always gotten on well enough. Granted, Serena was an insatiable flirt, but Trick had never seemed interested in the least. Now there was sort of weird tension between them and she wasn’t liking it one bit.
The moment passed and Serena turned to her with a tight smile. “Well, I’ll let you two walk the beasts. Write down all the details from last night and call me later. I expect a full accounting of the whole evening, blow—” she waggled her eyebrows “—by blow.”
She sidled up to Trick and fingered the collar of his coat. “I’ll see you around, handsome.”
A moment later, she was gone, leaving Grace alone with Trick and wondering if her lips were still swollen from last night. She wasn’t sure how to look less sexed, so she waved a hand toward the countertop.
“Why don’t you fill up the thermoses with coffee, and I’ll get my sweatshirt?” she mumbled and scurried down the hallway.
Once she was in her bedroom, she closed the door behind her and leaned on it heavily. What the hell was going on with her? Trick was her friend. Sure, he was dead sexy, and funny, and sweet. But he was also totally off limits. One of the best things about her interlude with the superhero had been that it gave her something to think about and look forward to that wasn’t off limits. So why was it that all of a sudden the only thing she couldn’t stop thinking about was Trick?
What she hadn’t counted on was this re-awakening of her sexuality making it hard to be around him. The things she’d imagined doing with—and to—a nameless, faceless guy during her two year dry spell had been a pale imitation of what she now knew the two of them could actually be doing if she made a move on him.
He wouldn’t say no.
That much, she was fairly sure of. He’d told her many times how pretty she was, and what a shit Vic had been for making her feel bad about herself, but it wasn’t only that. Every so often, when he thought she didn’t know it, she found him fixated on her ass or, more disconcerting, her mouth. His eyes would get all dark for a second, like he was imagining eating her alive. Then, a second later, it was gone, like a figment of her imagination. He’d never been shy about admitting that he loved sex and that he’d had more than his fair share of women. So would he sleep with her? Almost certainly. That’s what players did. And just as certainly, she would fall madly, irrevocably in love with him. It was only her terror of what she’d be left with when he invariably broke her heart that stopped her from doing it.
Would his mouth feel as good as Catman’s? Would he know how to touch her?
The door had been opened. Screw that, it had been mowed down by a tank fitted with a high powered assault weapon, and now it was like Pandora’s Box up in this place. She couldn’t stop thinking about it and all the things she’d been missing and how badly she wanted to do them with Trick.
A warm flush came over her, and she wondered if she needed the sweatshirt at all. She choked back a laugh. How Vic would taunt her now. She’d actually turned into the sex freak he’d always accused her of being. Now that was ironic.
“You almost ready?” Trick called from the living room. She fanned her face with her hand and shook her head at the empty room.
You have no idea.
…
Hung was good.
In fact, of the things a guy hoped for the morning after, hearing that the object of his attentions had told her friends he was hung ranked pretty high on the list. Definitely top three.
Not to mention that Grace was pretty damned chipper this morning. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she seemed to have an extra swing in her step and a confidence about her that hadn’t been there twenty-four hours ago. All in all, it had been a pretty sweet way to start the day for him, but he was having a rough time of it now.
Trick walked a few steps behind Grace and vowed to keep his eyes on the trail. Easier said than done. If that ass had confounded him before last night, it was the bane of his existence today. Round, juicy and—he now knew—with skin soft as satin. He wanted nothing more in the world than to take a bite.
“How far do you want to go?”
Deeper, he nearly groaned in response, exactly the way she had begged him in the sauna. His cocked bucked against his gym pants, and he struggled to focus.
Dirty Trick Page 5
