by Vanessa Dare
I just stared at his hand. Big, with long fingers that could wield a gun, mix a drink, kill a man, yet bring me to pleasure in the most gentle and sweet way. He was offering me the chance to be with him, as himself. Not Nick. Not Moretti’s goon. As himself. Grif. The name suited him.
This was the moment. Did I put my hand in his, bridging the huge gap that stood between us? Did I put my trust in him, want to be with him because he was the man who’d done those things for me? Protected me, saved me? Loved me?
I swallowed down a swift case of nerves, knowing this moment would be etched in my brain forever. Slowly, I put my small hand in his, even with my sparring gloves on. “I’m Olivia Edwards, but everyone calls me Anna.”
Nick—Grif—pulled me into him, his arms circling like bands around my back, lowered his head and kissed me. It wasn’t gentle. It was demanding, searing. Possessive. His tongue swooped in, tangled with mine. One hand held me about the waist, the other slid up my back to my nape, anchoring me as if afraid I’d disappear if he didn’t hold on. He walked me backward until I was pressed firmly against the wall.
I lifted my hands to cup his face but my sparring gloves were in the way. I pulled back from Grif’s mouth and yanked at the Velcro straps, tugging the gloves free and tossing them onto the floor. Placing my palms against his jaw, I felt the rasp of his stubble beneath my palms, tasted the familiar flavor that was all Jake, engulfed in his heady male scent.
Rough hands moved underneath the hem of my T-shirt to cover my breasts through my sports bra as one of Grif’s legs moved to wedge between mine, making me ride his hard, muscled thigh. I moaned into his mouth, the assault on my senses too much. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, he lowered to his knees, aligning his face directly with my breasts. He pushed my shirt up, getting it caught beneath my arms. I grabbed hold and tossed it over my head. Roughly, he worked my sports bra up and latched on to a nipple that had me arching my back into him, wanting more. I ran my fingers through his damp hair, holding him in place. I cried out as the intense pleasure overwhelmed me, sent heat coursing through me, my core aching and ready for him.
“I love you,” Grif whispered against my breast, laving a path to the other one before licking it, pulling it into his mouth. I was close, so close to coming, his mouth—and his words—taking me there quickly.
“Please, Grif, hurry,” I panted. I wanted it all. Now. I needed him deep inside me, filling me, making me whole. “Don’t stop.”
“God, I love hearing you say my name. No. I won’t stop,” he murmured. Slipping his fingers into the waistband of my shorts, he tugged them down along with my panties. I stepped out of them while he undid the zipper on his shorts, pushed them down, along with his boxers, enough so his cock sprang free. It was thick and hard, pulsed upward by his navel. It was the first time I saw it, and I had a flash of panic, wondering if it would fit. I hadn’t had sex since I was eighteen, so long I considered myself an almost-virgin.
My fingers touched it tentatively, bobbing in place while he hissed through his teeth. “I’ve never… God, Grif, are you sure—”
“Shh, love.” He reassured me with his soft words, as he lifted my thigh with one hand, pulling it to his hip, the other slid to my core, running gently over me, feeling the wetness there. Sliding one finger, then two deep inside, I forgot about being scared, about everything but what he was doing to me. Curling one finger, he rubbed a spot deep within that had me arching into him, crying out with pleasure. It wasn’t quite enough to tip me over the edge, to push me to that place only Grif had ever taken me.
Slipping his fingers free, I felt empty. But when he lifted them to his mouth, sucked on them, I was done for. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a condom, ripped the package open with his teeth and rolled it on. “Wrap your legs around me.”
I didn’t know what he meant, but when he grabbed on to my thighs and tugged, I hooked my legs around his waist. Between the wall and his rock-hard body, I was pinned, his cock positioned at my very center. My eyes fluttered closed at the pressure, the slight push of his broad tip into me. I could feel myself opening, stretching as I was slowly filled. I shifted my hips, trying to adjust to him. He was so big and I was so full, even with just the very head inside.
“Look at me, Anna.” His words were rough, tinged with a dark growl of possession.
I couldn’t help but stare into his eyes, deep and fathomless and filled with lust, a need so powerful he slipped another inch into me. This is why he’d waited before, why he said it wasn’t yet time. He wanted me to know who he really was when we came together. Wanted to be Grif when we did.
“Mine. You’re mine.”
With those words, he shifted his hips and thrust deep. The exquisite pressure, the fullness had me wrapping my arms about his back, my nails digging into his skin through his T-shirt. My sensitive nipples were abraded by the cotton.
“It’s too much,” I said, trying to lift myself up, but Jake’s hands held firmly on to my hips. He wasn’t moving, just filling me, letting me adjust. He hadn’t taken me before because he didn’t want anything to come between us. It really was just the two of us. Grif and Anna.
“Yes, it’s too much. Being with you is too much.” He licked at my neck, nuzzled down to nip at the spot at the juncture with my shoulder. My inner muscles clenched around him from the hint of pain and Jake groaned. “It’ll always be like this with us. No, don’t fight it. Accept it. Accept us. Say it, Anna.”
I was adjusting to him, my core softening, accepting, but I still fought against his hold, his possession. My eyes were squeezed shut, my head thrown back. “Say what?” I asked, frustrated with the feelings, the need that was overwhelming me. Jake was consuming me, us, in this thing I didn’t understand.
“What you feel. How it feels to have me inside you, part of you.” Grif demanded, pushed me to give in, to give over to us.
“I love it.”
He slid out a fraction of an inch, shifted to fill me once again.
“Oh God, I…Grif, I don’t understand,” I cried out. The feelings of pleasure, the pressure, Grif’s all-consuming presence was too much. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I fought, pushing now at his chest, trying to push him, the feelings, the need back just a little. I didn’t know how to handle it, didn’t know what to do with the emotions washing over me like a tidal wave.
Even with my struggles, Grif didn’t relent. He pulled out of me, almost completely, then surged in. It was so intense I wanted to scream. “I’ll help you. Do you want me?” he asked, his hips starting a slow rhythm.
“Yes,” I said, feeling my legs clench tightly around his waist.
“Can you feel what’s between us?”
In. Out.
“Yes,” I panted.
“This is love, Anna. I love you. You love me.”
In. Out.
I shook my head. Did I? I didn’t know what love was. Couldn’t let myself give in to it.
With a deep thrust he said, “Yes, you do. Say it.”
“I can’t!” I cried. My orgasm was right there, just out of reach. I needed—
“Yes, you can. You do. Just let the words out.”
A sheen of sweat slicked my skin, our bodies wet where we were joined. I never wanted him to stop, to be parted from me. I needed this. Needed him. This wasn’t just sex. This was possession, and not just on Grif’s part. I did this to him, made him lose control. He loved me and it showed in everything he’d done for me. I felt it with every stroke of his cock inside me.
“I—” I licked my dry lips. “I love you.”
Grif lowered his forehead to mine, paused. Just breathed me in. Took a moment to revel in what I’d said. He had to be, because I was. I’d said it. Felt it. Meant it.
“Good girl,” he whispered, bringing one hand between us to my cleft, his thumb finding my clit and moved in slow circles.
I cried out, arched my back, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
He circled his hips, moving now withi
n me without the same precision, as if he’d lost his control, driving us both to the brink…then over.
I came hard, crying out his name as my inner muscles milked him, holding him deep within me. Grif drove into me deeply one last time and shuddered against my neck as he came. I could feel his seed pulsing within me, even through the barrier of the condom. I held him tightly, never wanting to let go.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Somehow, we made it back to my apartment. My body was sated, softened, relaxed. Pleasured. I was in a daze, overwhelmed by what we’d done. Not just the fact that we’d had sex; that was enough for almost any near-virgin to handle. What we did wasn’t just sex, it wasn’t making love, it was bonding at an elemental level and in a way where there was no going back. I was his and he was mine.
Grif—it was strange to call him that—led me directly to my bathroom, turned on the shower, adjusted the temperature. We didn’t speak; words weren’t needed. He took off my clothes slowly, exposing my body to him one bit at a time. In return, I lifted his T-shirt. He helped me, drawing it up and over his head. I pushed his shorts and boxers down over his hips and to the floor. He was fully erect once again and I stared at it in awe, wondering how it had fit. I was sore—God, I’d been stretched so fully—but my body was ready for him once again. My core clenched in need at the sight of him completely naked. Broad shoulders, tapered waist, muscular thighs, heavenly butt. I could officially say that his dark skin was not from being out in the sun. He tested the water and pulled me into the glass enclosure with him.
Leisurely, he soaped my body, paying special attention to my breasts, between my legs. Once rinsed, he continued to touch me, learning my body, recognizing what made me hotter, wetter for him. Dropping to his knees, he was right there.
Oh. My head fell back, knowing what he could do to me with his mouth. “Put your foot up on the bench,” he murmured darkly, looking up at me through wet lashes.
I did as instructed, never before imagining the shower seat would be used for anything so carnal. Parting me with his fingers, he licked into me, his tongue moving from my opening, which clenched around its tip, to my clit. He pushed me, higher and higher, his skill at oral pleasure impressive. But it wasn’t enough. “I need you inside me. Please, Grif.”
I felt him grin against my inner thigh. “Greedy now, are we?”
Putting my hands in his wet hair, I tugged him up. “Yes. Now give it to me.”
He stood, looked down at me, quirked a brow. “Give it to you? With pleasure, but I don’t have any more condoms.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, my words coming out in a rush as I ran my hands over his muscled abs, the crisp hairs tickling my palms. “I’m on the Pill.”
Grif’s brows went up, searched my face, considering. I lifted up on my tiptoes, kissed him, licking into him. “Please.”
Taking my hips, he turned me to face the wall, pressed me against it. I hissed from the chilled tile against my belly, my breasts. Grif slowly slid my palms up the slick surface to place them by my head. He bent his knees, nudged himself against my opening, already swollen and slick for him, then thrust deep in one stroke.
I cried out, surprisingly sore from before, but the pleasure of having him fill me completely, pressing into me so deeply, made sure that I didn’t care. I arched my hips back and into him, letting him slide in to the hilt.
“God, Anna. You feel so good.” With those words, Grif drove into me, took us up and over, pounding into me without mercy, but I didn’t want slow or soft. I just wanted him to possess me, consume me. He did. When he came with a growl against my neck I felt his come spurt deeply within me and I knew he’d given me everything. I was his. Marked. Taken.
Grif
Anna was going to kill me. Sex with her was one of the most pleasurable things I’d ever experienced. When she said I could come in her without a condom, the sensation, the connection was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I’d never had sex without a condom. Never. Not even when married to Nadine. She’d made me wear them, saying the Pill made her sick. Since neither of us wanted kids, condoms were our go-to option. I hadn’t been too excited about it at the time, but now, I was glad. Glad I could experience this connection first—and only—with Anna.
As she turned around, I saw the satisfied look on her face. She looked well used, very well fucked. Her nipples were full and soft again, her cheeks pink from her pleasure.
“That was the first time for me without protection.” I glanced down, ran a finger through my seed coating her thighs. I’d filled her, all but branded her as mine. “That…that’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. I had no idea.”
Anna’s eyes grew large as my cock filled with blood and hardened once again. Was it always going to be like this? This desperate need for her?
I reached for the scented soap and began to clean her once again, washing the evidence of our pleasure from her body. Gently, I cleaned her thighs, then between, her skin there swollen and hot. Anna’s eyes slid closed at the contact.
I could have easily taken her again, but my cell chimed from the pile of clothes on the floor, signaling a text. “Later,” I murmured, planting a soft kiss on her plush lips. Opening the glass door, I dried quickly, wrapped the towel around my waist and retrieved my cell from my jeans pocket. “We’re on for eight,” I said, reading Carrie’s text.
The soft mood that languished was gone. Reality returned.
“Adam’s meeting us at your building’s back entrance.” I looked the clock on my phone. “We’ll need to hurry.”
Anna stood in the shower, naked and flushed, dripping wet and perfect, her shoulders squaring, sadly slipping out of her arousal and into the present. The sated look morphed into determination. She nodded and reached for the shampoo.
“Before we do this…thing, maybe you can tell me something about yourself. The real you,” she said, ready to pour the shampoo into her palm.
I hadn’t yet closed the door. I could have let it click shut, let the steam swirl and fill the void between us, keep her at arm’s length. Instead, I stepped in, took the bottle from her.
“You know my name. You know Carrie and that I have two other sisters.”
I lathered her hair, reveling in how her head fell back, her eyes closed as I massaged her scalp.
“We grew up in Michigan, parents are still there. Doctor and school teacher. Just to clarify, my mom’s the doctor, dad the teacher.”
“That’s a nice twist,” Anna murmured. From the soft smile on her face, she seemed to be enjoying my hands in her long hair.
“I played baseball in high school, went to the state school on a scholarship for it. Ended up going into the Army after graduation.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I always wanted to go but my parents pushed me to go to college first. Since I had the scholarship, it made sense. If I still wanted the military after, they said it wasn’t going anywhere. They were right. Turn around.”
She did and tilted her head back, letting the spray rinse the suds away.
“I did four years in the Army with two tours of Afghanistan. Someone in my platoon was from Denver and going into the police academy. I had no plans, so I joined him.”
“Why undercover?” she asked, once she slicked the water from her hair and could open her eyes. We faced each other.
“I was married.” Anna’s mouth fell open but she didn’t say anything. “I thought it was love, but when I found out she’d been cheating on me, I pulled my head out of my ass and noticed our marriage had been a sham. I might have worked too many shifts, handled too many cases late at night, but I was faithful and expected the same. If she wanted someone else, all she had to do was tell me, not go behind my back. She made me jaded. I didn’t trust women after her. At all. With my marriage over, I took an undercover assignment no one else wanted. No family commitments. It was easy and I went under for six months. When that one was done, my life still sucked and along came another opportunity. I
took it. My life didn’t get better. I dealt with the wrong kind of people that only backed up my skewed view of life. Then, I went undercover to bring down Moretti, and you know the rest. You are the rest.”
“So we both had sham marriages,” she said. We were just standing there, letting the water fall around us. “Maybe it was good we lived through them. Made us learn what we were missing.”
What we were missing. I hadn’t known I missed Anna until I found her.
No matter how much I wanted to stay in the shower with her, to hide in the foggy bathroom forever, I had to focus, get my mind back in the game. Once I met her, it hadn’t ever really been in the game. I had a feeling I’d never be back all the way ever again. Now, there would always be a part of my mind wondering, worrying and thinking about Anna. I’d had it all wrong, all this time. Those guys on the force who I’d thought were slackers because they were pussy whipped by their wives or girlfriends? They’d had it all right. They knew what had been missing, found it, and never let go.
I left Anna in the shower by herself, needing a little separation to focus on what was to come.
Twenty minutes later, Anna joined me in the kitchen in a white tank top and black cargo pants. Taking a sip from a can of soda, my hand stopped halfway to my mouth as I looked at her hair.
“Holy shit, Anna.” It was mostly dry, but curly. Completely unlike the stick-straight hair I was used to. Full, thick ringlets went down over her shoulders, a few inches shorter than I was used to seeing. I placed the can on the counter and walked over to her, touching a curl, amazed how it twirled around my finger. “How?” I asked, mesmerized by the difference.
A pink blush rose to her cheeks, clearly little shy about the new look. “I straighten my hair every day. This,” she tugged on a curl and I watched it spring back into place. “This is natural.”
It was soft, like silk. Wild. I couldn’t get enough of it.
“You straighten this away?” Her gazed flicked up to mine, wary. “It’s hot as hell.”
