The lightning flashed again, illuminating his face. His jaw was like granite as he glared at her. “You need to stay inside. It’s too cold to be out here in your pajamas.”
She closed the distance between them and poked her finger into his chest. “You are not in charge of everything around here, mister. If I want to step outside, I will. And if I want to sleep on the table or… or stand on my head, I will. You don’t own me, Garrett Spencer. You get to tell me what to do as it pertains to my safety—but that is all. Do you follow me, or are you too stupid to get what I’m saying to you?”
A splat of rain landed on her face, and then another and another.
“Get the fuck inside, Grace,” he growled, “or I’ll carry you inside.”
The sky chose that particular moment to open up. She stood there in shock at the cold as the deluge plastered her pajamas to her skin. But Garrett was only shocked for a moment. Then he was stooping and putting his shoulder into her midsection. Another second and she was hanging upside down, his hand firmly on her ass as he turned and carried her back through the door she’d come out of.
The rain stopped stinging her skin as he entered the house. He slid the door shut and locked it, and she started to kick her legs and thump his back with her fists.
“Let me go!”
One broad hand smacked across her ass, and the sting was enough to shock her into silence—but only for a moment.
“How dare you! How fucking dare you!”
She screamed and wiggled and Garrett held her with both hands firmly on her hips. He slapped her again, harder this time, and she stilled.
“I’m going to kill you,” she growled, even as something deep inside her leapt in excitement. “Just as soon as you put me down, I’m going to tackle you and pound you into the ground.”
He laughed. And then her world tilted and she dropped onto the mattress in her wet pajamas. True to her word, she launched herself at him.
But she didn’t hit him. Instead, she grabbed his wet jaw with both her hands and dragged his mouth to hers.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
GRACE FULLY EXPECTED HIM TO PUSH her away, to politely end the kiss and tell her—again—that he couldn’t cross that line with her. She knew he was going to reject her, and yet she’d kissed him anyway.
Kissed him when she’d meant to knock him over and thump him good for spanking her. What the hell was the matter with her anyway? As if she hadn’t let herself be humiliated enough.
But she was all in now, her frustration to the boiling point. His mouth was warm and hard against hers—and then his tongue slipped into her mouth and he groaned softly. Her heart leapt as his fingers tightened on the wet fabric of her pajamas.
A shiver rolled over her, and she plastered herself tighter to his body. He broke the kiss, and she nearly wailed with frustration.
“You’re cold.”
“No, I’m excited.”
“You should take these clothes off and get into the shower.”
“You can keep me warm,” she whispered, kissing him again.
He kissed her back, his tongue stroking against hers so hotly that her heartbeat rocketed higher. Her skin was on fire, and her sex grew wetter the longer he kissed her.
He cupped one of her breasts in his hand, his thumb gliding across the hardened tip of her nipple. Grace gasped into his mouth and he kissed her harder.
Any second he would come to his senses. Any second he would stop this before it began. She knew it, and she didn’t want that to happen.
Grace reached for his belt, tugging it open before unbuttoning his jeans and reaching inside to take him in her hands. He made a noise as she touched him, a groan that reverberated through her and sent waves of need pounding through her body.
“Grace, you shouldn’t—”
“Shut up, Garrett. Just shut up.” While he was still too surprised to react, she shoved his jeans down his hips and dropped to her knees. He filled both her hands, his cock soft and silken and so very hard at the same time.
Grace took him in her mouth and he stiffened, swearing. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste and feel of him. He jerked against her tongue, and she tasted the salt of his pre-come. She began to stroke him, sucking as she did so. Her heart pounded and her body felt impossibly tight, like her skin had been stretched over a drum.
She wanted to make him come—and she wanted to come too.
Suddenly he reached down and pulled her up, and she let out a noise of frustration. His eyes searched hers as he held her so near and yet so far at the same time. Her fingers curled with the urge to grab him and pull him to her.
“You’re a bad girl, Grace. So prim and proper—and so fucking hot underneath the bun and glasses. Telling me in that superior voice of yours that you’ll tattle on me to your daddy one minute and then sucking my dick like a porn star another.”
“What are you going to do about it,” she whispered, her blood racing with heat and need, her pussy tightening and aching for his touch.
He reached for the bottom of her pajama shirt and ripped it up and over her head. “What am I gonna do? Every fucking thing I shouldn’t, cupcake. Because I’m a man with a hard-on, and my give-a-shit factor is pretty low right now.”
He let her go and she went for his T-shirt, tugging it over his head and then dropping it. His mouth was on hers, her breasts in his hands—and then he dropped his head and took one tight nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while she clutched his shoulders and gasped.
Another moment and he stripped the sodden pajama bottoms from her body until she was completely naked. Goose bumps rose on her skin as his hot mouth moved from one nipple to the other. Then he scooped her up and dropped her on the bed, coming down on top of her as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.
He was big and solid, pressing her into the mattress, and she shivered with anticipation.
“You’ve pushed me to the edge, Grace, I hope you know that.”
She didn’t know that, but it was nice to hear. “I’m glad.”
“No finesse right now, none at all,” he muttered. He reached past her, fumbling in the dark for something. She heard the tearing of a wrapper, and then he was rolling on a condom, the head of his cock pressing into her entrance. She was too elated to even wonder at how convenient it was he’d had a condom at hand.
Her body clamped around him, resisting his invasion as he pushed deeper into her—but oh, how she wanted it.
It had been months—so many lonely months—and Jeffrey certainly hadn’t been, well, as endowed as this man.
“God, you’re tight,” he said.
“And you’re big.”
His laugh was half-broken. “Grace… God.” He grew really still for a moment, and her heart throbbed as she thought he must be fighting with himself.
Intending to stop, even though they were more than halfway gone.
She wrapped her legs around his hips more tightly and arched her back, forcing him deeper inside her body. She moaned with the pressure—good pressure, but still—and prayed he would start to move. That instinct would take over.
“Garrett… please… please…”
He dropped his mouth to her neck, sucked the skin there. Infuriatingly, he didn’t move. “Please what, cupcake?”
“Just please.”
“You know what I’ve been dying to hear you say?”
Her brain could hardly credit that he was having a conversation at a time like this. “No.”
“Tell me to fuck you in that prim voice of yours. Tell me that, and you own me for the night.”
It was that simple? And that difficult, because Grace had never said such a thing to a man. The mere thought made her blush. But for him she would. For this, she most definitely would.
She ran her fingers over the hot, hard muscles of his back.
She lifted her head and kissed him lightly, and then she put her mouth to his ear, nipped his earlobe for good measure. “Please,” she said in her best Helena Voice while he
r heart thumped, “if it’s not too much trouble… fuck me, Garrett. I really, really want you to fuck me.”
A shudder rolled through him. “Damn, cupcake, that was hot.”
He flexed his hips then, sliding deep inside her before pulling out and slamming into her again and again. His mouth fused to hers and his body drove hers, riding her hard.
But she loved every second of it. Every soul-destroying, pleasure-giving stroke. She thought he would take her to the edge and let her tumble over, but he didn’t do any such thing. He kept her on the edge for so long, her body coiling tighter and tighter, her breath gasping from her lungs, until she realized that those sounds she heard were her voice—her, begging him to make it last, begging him to make her come, begging, begging, begging.
She’d never begged during sex before. She couldn’t imagine doing anything differently with him, however. Garrett was the sort of man you begged for more. So much more.
He kissed her again, his mouth taking hers, hard and hot. She lifted her head, trying to get more of his tongue, his lips, his taste and scent.
Sex had never felt so good, so necessary to her existence before now. Anything he wanted, she would give him. Anything, just to feel one tenth of the pleasure she felt right now.
Her hips rose to meet him with every stroke, their bodies sliding together wetly, the rain and her juices making everything so slick and hot between them.
He changed tempo suddenly, and she cried out in protest. The tension in her body was at the breaking point, and he kept withholding the reward. She would kill him if he didn’t kill her first.
But then he shifted and took her nipple in his mouth, the angle of his penis bumping right up against the nerves in her clitoris. He sucked her nipple deep and slammed into her again and again, slower but harder now—and Grace sailed over the edge, crying out.
She might have said his name, God’s name, obscenities—she wasn’t sure what she said, but the words poured out of her as her body broke in wave after wave of the strongest climax she’d ever had. Was it the excitement of doing it with someone she barely knew? The illicitness of misbehaving with her bodyguard?
Or was it the chemistry between them that made her willing to give everything she had and damn the consequences?
She was still coming when he clamped her hips and held her hard, his body stiffening as he poured himself into her. He swore as he came, his voice ragged and hoarse.
When it was over, when she could finally breathe again, she could still hear the rain coming down outside, slapping on the deck and the roof, drenching everything. She lay beneath Garrett, feeling the reassuring weight of him pressing her into the mattress. Her legs were quivering and her breathing was still fast, but her body was more relaxed than it had been in weeks.
He levered himself up on an elbow and searched her face. She couldn’t bear to see regret there, so she tugged him down and kissed him, their tongues twining at a much more leisurely pace this time.
He rolled over, pulling her with him until she was on top, her body stretched out over his. That’s when she realized his jeans were still halfway down his legs. They’d been in such a hurry that he’d never managed to undress completely. Now he kicked them free, and they dropped to the floor.
He ran a hand up and down her spine, and her body trembled as she lay with her head on his chest and sighed.
“That was hot, Grace. Incredibly hot.”
She heard what he didn’t say. “But it was also wrong, at least for you. Am I right?”
He sighed. “It’s not my finest moment as a bodyguard, that’s for sure.”
She propped her chin on her hand and gazed at him. “Never gotten frisky with the protectee before?”
“No.”
He ran a finger over her lips, and they tingled in response. Or maybe that was just from how sensitive they still were. Her entire body was sensitive, come to think of it.
“Never wanted to,” he added, and her heart gave a little kick.
“I’m sorry I tempted you then.” Except she wasn’t sorry at all. For the first time in a long time, she was… content.
“No you aren’t.”
She laughed. “No, not really. You shouldn’t have spanked me, Garrett. I lost my head.”
“Now I know the secret, don’t I? Uppity Grace Campbell gets turned on when her ass is stinging.”
She wanted to blush. Probably was blushing, but at least it was dark in here. “I don’t know that I was turned on by it so much as I was very angry with you for daring. I really did mean to tackle you.”
“I like the way you tackle.”
He shifted, and she felt him still inside her, still hard and big, and her body responded with heat and wetness.
“Why were there condoms in the nightstand?”
“It’s a safe house, set up and stocked for use at any time. Food, water, condoms, Band-Aids—I expect to find it all here.”
She touched his pectoral with her tongue. He was salty and hot, and she wanted to lick him up like ice cream. “I’m rather glad you did.”
“Grace, you keep doing that, we’re going for another round.”
“You promised me an entire night. One hot, dirty night, you said. I want it. I want it all.”
*
Mendez would string him up by the balls if he found out what Garrett had done to Senator Campbell’s princess, but the genie was out of the bottle. Too late to cram it back in.
Grace was hot and sexy and sweet, and he couldn’t stop now. One night. One hot, beautiful, sexy night with a buttoned-up scientist who wasn’t so buttoned up when he was making her come.
He loved that he made her writhe and beg. He loved the sound of her voice in his ear, her prim little pleas, her wet pussy clamping around him and making him insane with need as he stroked into her body.
Usually when he came, he was done. Time to say good night and leave whatever woman had given him pleasure with a kiss and a promise to call. A promise he never kept.
Even when he’d banged those two best friends a couple of months ago, he’d had no desire to call them again when it was done. Yeah, they’d given him a hell of a night, that was for sure—and would have given him more.
Every man’s fantasy—two hot babes horny for his dick—and he’d been done after one round. He’d gotten his rocks off—and theirs—and then he’d politely ushered them out of his hotel room.
But with Grace, he didn’t want to stop just yet. There was so much he hadn’t done to her. He wanted to push her limits and see just how far she could go, and he wanted her to shatter again and again while he did it.
His dick was still hard, still ready, but he had to get rid of this condom and get a new one. He had no idea how many there were in this damn house, but he’d search the premises if he had to. Because he intended to sink into Grace and not come up for air for hours.
They were safe. There were cameras on the perimeter, and a perimeter alarm to alert him to anyone breaching it. He’d set it when they’d arrived, and it remained blessedly quiet.
He got up and tugged Grace up with him, then pulled her into the bathroom and turned on the shower. While it warmed, he removed the condom and retrieved another—there was a whole box, thank God—setting it on the vanity while he turned his attention to Grace.
She was standing with her arms wrapped around her body, a look of uncertainty in her pretty blue eyes. She was busy worrying her lower lip between her teeth. He dipped his head to her mouth and sucked her lip between his own. She moaned, catching him around the shoulders as she did so.
“You’re so sexy, Grace.”
Her breath caught. “You don’t have to say that.”
He set her away from him and studied her expression. “You really believe that shit you say, don’t you?” He took her hand and wrapped it around his cock. “This doesn’t lie, cupcake.”
“Garrett…”
He slapped her ass and her eyes widened. Her fingers tightened convulsively on his dick and his
heart kicked up. “Get in the shower, Grace. And then I want you to spread your legs and put your hands against the wall.”
The shower enclosure wasn’t big, but it was big enough. Grace stepped in without another word and did exactly as he told her. Garrett swallowed hard at the sight of her naked back, the dip right above her ass, the flare of her hips and those long, long legs spread wide. Her palms were against the tile, and he stepped in behind her, his cock riding the groove between her cheeks as he reached around and found her nipples. They were hard little pebbles, and she gasped as he pulled on them, tweaking them.
He grabbed the soap and poured some in his hands, then glided them over her wet body, returning again and again to her nipples.
She laid her forehead against the tile and moaned. He let his fingers drift down between her legs. Her clit was swollen, her lips plump. He glided his fingers lower, into the seam, and swallowed hard.
“So wet,” he said hoarsely. “Grace… fuck.”
“Yes, please,” she panted.
He nearly obliged her. But he wanted more than that right now. He dropped to his knees behind her, sliding his tongue into her wetness.
She cried out, and he flicked her clitoris as he fucked her with his tongue. She tilted her hips, giving him better reach. And then he turned until he was between her legs, facing her. He put her leg over his shoulder and spread her wide. She was looking down at him with such longing that a fierce wave of possession flooded him.
Slowly, he touched his tongue to her clit, his eyes never leaving hers. She shuddered and moaned, her eyes closing for a long moment.
“Look at me,” he told her, because he wanted to watch as she came.
Her eyes popped open. She looked a little scared, a little unsure—and a whole lot sexy.
He slid his tongue around her clit, sucked it softly, and then harder. She was panting now, riding his face with little jerks of her hips. He gripped her ass and held her to him when she would have backed away because the feeling was too intense.
“Garrett… I… Fuck.”
She shattered against his tongue, throwing her head back and crying out. He stood and turned her, barely remembering to reach for the condom and sheath himself. And then he was slamming into her from behind, holding her hips as he pumped into her again and again. He reached around and found her still-sensitive clit, worked it with his fingers while she said things to him he never thought proper Grace Campbell would say.
Hot Ice (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 7) Page 12
