It’s been a week since I found Gracie beaten and mostly naked in that building. It’s something I’ll never forget—seared in my brain where it’ll stay forever. And knowing the person responsible is still breathing and walking free is fuel thrown on my fire. It’s heated lava, blazing and bubbling over, fed only by my anger and pure determination to find him and do what I do best—put an end to his miserable life. But I won’t do it quick. I’ll take my time and he’ll regret the day he was born.
I don’t do messy. I’m quick and efficient in my work but not this time. This time I plan to get my hands dirty and avenge every bruise, scratch, and cut on her beautiful body.
Until then, we’re safe here because Crew does not fuck around when it comes to security. The penthouse cannot be penetrated.
Her headaches are gone and she’s moving easier. We could’ve flown back a couple days ago but when I asked her if she was ready during one of the many times we were sitting on the veranda, she just stared out at that tower and shook her head.
And since she did this while we were wrapped up in each other, there was no way I could argue. Personal space isn’t something we’re respecting at the moment, even though I am giving her the time she seems to need. She won’t take a phone call from anyone. Grady, her sisters, Maya—they’ve tried repeatedly and with a persistence that drove Gracie to turn off her shiny new phone.
I’ve taken the fallout of her going AWOL. And, fuck, has there been a fallout. I’ve always been able to rely on Grady to have my back in this organization but he’s lost his patience with me. I’m surprised he hasn’t flown across the pond and busted our door down. Pretty sure the only reason he hasn’t is because I’ve convinced Crew I have this under control. In return, he said, “You’d better fucking manage this with Grady.”
He hasn’t taken my calls since but I do think he’s kept his mouth shut about me and Gracie so far because Grady hasn’t given losing his shit a new definition. And it would be epic.
My best guess is Maya has kept him from going apeshit from Gracie not taking his calls. She’s the only one who can keep him under control.
Asa’s back and he is taking my calls because I’m ready to track down Calvin Prosk and figure out what the hell his deal is and why he even knows my name in the first place.
I should be anxious to fly home—to get back to work, to track down the nosy-as-fuck reporter, and to somehow figure out a way to tell my closest friend on this planet that I’m into his youngest sister in a big way.
But I’m not doing any of that. Because … Gracie.
We’ve fallen into a routine. A painful and torturous and repetitive one that will surely be my demise, which is whacked since I look death in the eye on a normal basis in my job.
Can someone die from a severe case of blue balls? Because I’m testing the theory—pushing it to its limits. Sapphire, cobalt, navy, royal… I’ve had them all and have been living in the blue color wheel over the last week. And just because she’s feeling better doesn’t mean I’ve allowed her to shower alone. The penthouse is big for this area of Paris but it’s not big enough for me to take a timeout from our time together and jack-off in the shower. Or the laundry room or the pantry or the guest bedroom. Hell, I’d settle for the coat closet.
And since I don’t want time away from Gracie, it’s given new meaning to the term a double-edged sword. I’ve fallen on both sides and would be happy if someone put me out of my misery—that someone being my one-night stand with whom I’m currently playing house.
I turn her away from me and don’t even pretend or hide the fact my cock is fully ready for some action because I press it into the small of her back. Once I found out she’d told the doctor the truth, I ditched showering in my underwear because that was a pain in the ass. Talk about dying a slow death, walking the line of leaving her alone because I don’t want to hurt her and picking her up to fuck her so hard against the shower wall where neither one of us will see straight afterward is a tightrope I’m having a hard time balancing.
Hard being the key word.
I drag the soapy rag down the front of her, over her tits, and across her hard nipples that are begging me to suck them. She arches, her head falling against my chest, water dripping through her thick eyelashes that are closed and fanned across her cheeks.
“Noah.”
I drag it farther down her body as I hold her to me, pressing my cock into her back. I put my lips to her temple next to the stitches that are almost ready to come out. “Hmm?”
Every day we do this dance—teasing and tormenting—and every day we move farther, adding more, until I eventually pull the plug, first because of her concussion, then because of the bruises. But, despite the color of my balls, I’ve stopped it every single time.
When I drop my hand between her legs she moans. I don’t stop myself for the first time since we were together in Virginia. Our first and only night together—I’ve not forgotten one moment of it.
She presses her hips into my hand and grips my bicep, holding me to her. I can’t help but smile against the side of her head as I look down her wet, soapy body. Even though I know what the answer is from the way she’s hanging on to me, I want her to say it. After this past week, I need her to say it. “What do you want, baby?”
“Don’t stop.” She blinks up at me through the water. “Please, don’t stop.”
I toss the rag to the floor and bring my hands up to her tits that are heaving with each breath. Rolling her nipples between my fingers, she brings a hand up to cover mine, making sure I don’t let her go this time. When I wrap one arm around her and drop the other to her pussy, I realize she’s got as much sexual pent-up energy as I do.
“For the love of God, don’t stop.”
“What about when you beg me to stop because you can’t take any more?”
“Please, Noah. Just, please.”
I run my fingers through her pussy, from her opening to her clit. “Like this?”
“Yes. Holy shit. Don’t stop doing that.”
I circle her clit and watch her hips move with my hand, it feels like an alternate universe when we were like this last. We didn’t know each other, didn’t know what was to come, or if there would be a second time.
“Don’t hurt yourself, Lover.” I haven’t called her that since I left her in Brussels.
She looks up at me with eyes that are hungry and desperate and needy. “Nothing hurts right now. At least not like that. Why are you taking so long?”
My lips tip on one side but I don’t speed my actions. This, I’m going to enjoy for as long as I can. “Nothing wrong with slow.”
Her hand slides north on my thigh behind her and she moves just enough to reach between us, wrapping her fingers around my dick. When I press into her hold, she squeezes and I’m not smiling any longer.
I give her clit a firm circle, spreading her. She takes note and shifts her legs open for me at the same time she works her fist up and down, doing exactly what I’ve craved for the last week.
But there’s no way I’m going to let her jack me off—not now. Even though my cock would gut punch me if he could, I rip her hand away from my very deprived organ. “You first.”
“Okay,” she mumbles and doesn’t argue.
She also doesn’t take long. In what has become our shower in our little world, she comes, and watching it happen is even more spectacular than I remember. I don’t let up and hold her to me, trying not to hurt her ribs as she moans, shakes and convulses on my hand. When she starts to come down, I turn her, take her mouth in a searing kiss that’s desperate and hungry all at the same time. She surges up on her toes to reach for my face, pressing her body into mine.
“I want you,” she says against my lips as she claws at my shoulders. Her nails dig into my skin and I feel it in my throbbing cock.
“I don’t have a condom,” I admit against her lips, dropping my hands to her ass. “I don’t travel with them and I certainly didn’t think to order any with the grocer
ies from the way you were feeling.”
She pulls away from me and gives her head a little shake. “I’m good. And I’m clean as long as you are. Please be clean, Noah.”
She looks as desperate as I feel, which cannot be humanly possible since I’ve been thinking of nothing besides her from the moment I laid eyes on her at Asa’s wedding reception.
I’m fucked. Not literally—not yet, anyway. But I’m fucking gone for her.
I pick her up and she wraps her legs around my waist. “Dammit, Gracie. I’m gonna be selfish and fuck you here when I should take you to bed because of your ribs. Tell me if I hurt you.”
“I’m fine.”
With one hand firm on her ass, I wrap my arm around her back to protect her from the marble wall. The word fine barely slips past her lips when I surge up and I groan. Fuck, the feel of her everywhere. I could live the rest of my life right here.
* * *
Gracie
His big hand cradles my head when it falls back.
This is what I needed. Nothing but him and me. If I could stay like this forever, I would.
He pulls out and surges back, filling me, stretching me, and reminding me of how good it was when we were still strangers. The memory he gave me, when I thought that was it—that I wouldn’t have Noah Jarvis in any other way ever again.
I press down, meeting his thrust, and his chest rumbles against my sensitive nipples. I lift my head and put my hands to his jaw, pressing my lips to his, plunging my tongue inside, wanting nothing but to be connected with him in every way possible.
His breath sweeps my face, water dripping between us. I run my fingers through his wet hair and his dark eyes open to focus on mine. His next words come out almost angry, his jaw is tense and every muscle in his body taut. “This is just the beginning, Gracie. Don’t fucking try to put me off again. You understand?”
My eyes fall and I press the side of my face to his. “I don’t want to leave. Everything here is easy. I could stay here with you forever.”
His thrusts come quicker and harder, with a desperation I feel down to my toes. He doesn’t answer, he just takes me like I’m his and that thought thrills me and scares me in equal measure.
I wrap my hands around his neck and hold on, not wanting this to end even though everything does. It’s inevitable.
My insides tense, my sex spasms, and I see nothing but him and the Italian marble surrounding us, when my vision turns to stars.
He thrusts two more times and groans, pressing his face into my neck, and his cock pulses inside me. Our hearts race—their pitter-patter mixing together as one while we both work to catch our breath.
Noah puts a hand to the wall and looks into my eyes. “Never been bare with anyone. You’re so fucking perfect, it makes my insides twist.”
I shake my head. “I’m far from perfect.”
He leans in to kiss me. “You’re going to have to convince me of that.”
Sliding out of me, he sets me on my feet like I’m a china doll. After we finish in the shower, I wrap the thick white towel around me and start to comb my hair.
But I stop when I hear my brother’s voice echo through the white bathroom. I look up and Noah is standing in the doorway, his own towel wrapped low on his hips with water still dripping down his chiseled chest.
I turn and he’s holding out his phone, Grady’s voice filling the room. And the expression on Noah’s face matches mine as he replays the voicemail for me.
“Asswipe. I’m over this shit. There will be a plane with our pilot waiting on you tomorrow—same airstrip we always use. He’s taking off at noon your time and your ass had better be on it with my sister. I could kick myself for listening to everyone and their cow and not getting on a plane the second I realized she was in trouble. I don’t know why she won’t talk to me and I don’t know why you, of all people, are giving me the runaround. You’ve got shit to attend to here and you know what I mean. I’m over it. Don’t take your eyes off Gracie and get her the fuck home to me. I’ll be at the airport waiting.”
Noah steps into the bathroom and comes straight to me, tossing his phone down on the vanity.
I look up to him and tell him the truth. “I don’t want to leave.”
His chest rises and falls with a big breath. “He’s right. I have shit I need to see to at home and I’m not sure I can put him off any longer when it comes to you.”
“I know.” Disappointment bleeds through my tone and I don’t even care how needy I sound. “I still don’t want to leave.”
He hooks an index finger between my breasts and pulls the towel and me into him. “I’ll bring you back as soon as we can swing it.”
I can’t lie to myself anymore because I want that. I do. I want it more than anything. So much, that I’m selfish enough to ignore all the reasons I should scream no! and walk away from him as soon as my feet hit US soil.
But I’m allowing myself to be selfish.
“I’m going to have to explain to Grady how I’m into his sister. Not sure how that’s going to go over but I’ll take care of it as soon as we get back.”
“Grady thinks he has some type of fatherly control over me but he doesn’t. You don’t owe him anything and neither do I.”
“He’s still my friend and I need to respect that.” Then, his beautiful, full lips part and his tongue peeks out to swipe the bottom one while his eyes get darker the way they do when he focuses on nothing but me. “It’s ten in the morning. We have twenty-four hours before we have to leave. I promise, I’m going to take advantage of every minute of it before the rest of the world butts in.”
With that, my towel falls to my feet.
And Noah shows me how well he keeps his promises.
Chapter 20
Trouble in Bromance-Landia
Gracie
The flight home was so very different than weeks ago when I was dead set on ditching Noah Jarvis.
I’ve lived another life since I closed the door on Moose and started on this journey. I’ve had a glimpse of the world, seen death through the eyes of a grieving family, helped save someone on the operating table, felt the hopelessness in my bones for those who couldn’t be healed, and hope was planted in my heart at an orphanage in the middle of Africa.
I was also drugged, kidnapped, and beaten.
But I also have Noah.
I’m different. And I think I like myself a little more.
No, that’s not right. I think I’ve finally made peace with who I am—my path. The road I was forced upon has no option of a U-turn—no alternate route.
I’ve struggled for years but it’s not until now, after the last three weeks, that I realized my road is not the end of the world. Does it suck? Of course. It’s made me a bitter person, it’s affected my state of mind, my relationships, and my family. They walked it right along next to me like they have everything else—Grady more than anyone.
But I’m done. I refuse to allow my life to be ruled by the actions of my dead father and I won’t allow the depression of what I’ll never have to suffocate me again. It’s been long enough.
I look up and Noah ducks his head as he turns from the cockpit where he was speaking to the pilot and shuts the door behind him. He comes straight for me where I’m belted in on the sofa and can’t stop being impressed by the private jet big enough for the two of us and most of our friends.
“Do you always travel like this?” I ask. “And does Grady? I’d complain that he’s been holding out on me all these years, if not for the fact whenever he buys me a plane ticket to visit, it’s always first class. But this is beyond fancy.”
Noah’s attention is centered on me when he unhooks my seatbelt and plops down next to me before he pulls me over to straddle him. “It’s easier for us to travel with our equipment when we don’t have to fuck around with security.”
“Equipment,” I mutter. He yanks at the hem of the loose dress that hits the middle of my thighs, dragging his hands up my back, and my bra is hanging sl
ack in no time. Pulling me into him, his lips land on my neck and I thread my fingers into his unruly hair. “That’s an interesting way to describe things that won’t pass security. I bet you’re not talking about your full-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner.”
His touch circles my rib cage to the front where his big hands completely cup my breasts. I know I’m not big and Noah dwarfs me in every way possible but he doesn’t seem to care because he can’t get enough of me.
When we found out Grady was pressuring me to come home by actually booking a plane, I knew our bubble was about to pop. And Noah did not lie when he said he planned to take advantage of our last twenty-four hours in Paris. After a week of him treating me like a delicate piece of china, he broke the seal. We were back to the desperation we both felt the night we met—hungry and needy and insatiable. Only this time, it was better. We know things about each other. It’s familiar and I don’t want just one memory. This time, I’m scribing an entire novel—one that, for now, is open ended and I couldn’t be happier about it.
Noah yanks my dress up and presses his hand into the middle of my back, bringing me to his mouth where he pulls my nipple between his lips before muttering, “Traveling with full-sized shampoo is just a bonus.”
I grip his hair and pull his head back to look at me. “What are you doing? I doubt that door between us and the pilot is soundproof. What if he comes out?”
He looks up at me and his expression is as serious as all the orgasms he gave me in France. “If he opens that door, we’ve got bigger problems. I told him not to bother us unless the plane was going down. I’ll do my best to kiss away your moans but we re-enter reality in,” he looks at his watch, “less than three hours. I’m going to have to deal with your brother when we get there and I have a feeling that won’t go well. Not sure I’ll ever have my fill of you but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”
Veils: A Killers Novel, Book 4 Page 17
