by Robyn Grady
Wynn hunkered down. “Tate, when Grace and I first met, she was around your age. Crazy, huh?”
Shoving his hands into the back pockets of his shorts, Tate eyed Grace as if he truly did think it was mad, but also interesting. “I like dinosaurs,” he told her. “Do you?”
Kneeling down, Grace tried to think. “I don’t know any.”
“That’s okay.” When Tate smiled, Grace saw he’d lost a tooth. “I have lots. I’ll show you.”
Taking her hand, Tate yanked but his father stopped him short. “Son, our latest guest hasn’t met all the family yet.”
Another woman—a very pregnant woman—entered the room. Her high cheekbones and large, thickly-lashed eyes bespoke classic beauty—or would have if not for the grimace, which seemed to have something to do with the way she held the small of her back. This must be Eloise, Grace thought. Wynn’s stepmother, although she looked young enough to be a sister.
“I swear, if I don’t have this child soon,” Eloise said, “I’ll collapse. I can’t carry this twenty-pound bowling ball around inside of me much longer.”
As Eloise ambled nearer, Cole’s shoulders inched up. Taryn slipped an arm through her fiancé’s, as if reminding him she was there, a support. Grace wondered.
What’s that all about?
Stopping before the newly arrived couple, Eloise dredged up a put-upon smile and Wynn stepped forward to brush a kiss on his stepmom’s cheek. As he drew away, Eloise looked to Grace as if she expected the same greeting from her. Grace only nodded hello before saying, “Thanks for having me in your home,” and then, “Can I ask—do you know what you’re having?”
“I’ve prayed for a daughter. Every woman wants one.” Eloise’s gaze flicked to Teagan, who was squatting, tying Tate’s shoelace. “Another daughter, I mean.” She set her weight on her other leg. “After that long trip, you both must need a good lie down. Your old room’s all ready for you, honey,” she said to Wynn.
“Barbecue’s happening around five,” Cole added.
“I’ll bring a dinosaur,” Tate said.
A moment later, Wynn was ushering Grace up a grand staircase, then down a corridor that led to a separate wing of the house. His “room” looked more like a penthouse suite. Standing in the center of the enormous space, which included a king-size bed, Grace set her hands on her hips.
“You had all this to yourself growing up?” she asked.
“Doesn’t mean I sat around, bathing in milk and ringing the butler’s bell.”
“No?” She turned to face him.
“I worked very hard at my studies and sport.”
She wandered over. “Wanna show me your trophies?”
“I wanna show you something.”
His arms circled her and his mouth covered hers. It was a stirring kiss. Warm and good and...somehow different. Must be because of the surroundings. As his lips left hers, she let her eyes drift open and memories of the Hunters and that Colorado Christmas came flooding back. One memory in particular. She pressed her lips together to cover a laugh.
“I can still see you gnashing your teeth over that snowman’s hat not sitting straight.”
He pretended to scowl. “Because you and Teagan kept messing with it when my back was turned.”
She didn’t cover her laugh this time. “You were so darn easy to stir.”
When she bopped his nose, he jerked to take a bite at that finger. “You were lucky I remained a gentleman.”
“I don’t remember you behaving in a gentlemanly fashion. You’d go all stiff and mutter that I needed a good spanking.”
His lips came close to graze up the slope of her throat. “I’m feeling and thinking the same thing now.”
While his tongue tickled her earlobe, the zipper on the back of her dress whirred down. She felt the cool air, and then a warm palm slid in over her skin before skating down toward her rear. Closing her eyes, Grace let her head rock back.
“I thought we were going to rest before dinner,” she said, “not play.”
“Either way, we need to get out of these clothes.”
He slid the dress off one shoulder, she handled the other shoulder, and the dress fell to the floor.
Since that evening in his office, they’d seen each other regularly. Whenever they got together, inevitably they would end up in bed, exploring each other’s bodies, discovering what the other liked best, and then finding new ways to top that. Like that thing his mouth was doing now to the lower sweep of her neck. The gentle tug of his teeth on her skin felt light and yet deep enough to ignite a set of nerve endings directly connected to her core.
But today they’d been travelling around the clock. Her body was pleading for a warm shower and some rest.
She stepped out of the dress pooled around her ankles and headed for the dresser, stopping twice to slip off each shoe while unfastening her heavy necklace. Laying the necklace on top of the dresser, she caught Wynn’s reflection in the mirror. His gaze was dark and fixed upon her hips, the back of her briefs. He didn’t look tired at all.
When he slipped off his shoes and moved up behind her, Grace’s insides began to squeeze. His palms sailed over her bare shoulders, down her arms. Leaning back against his muscled heat, she breathed in his musky scent as two sets of fingers drew lines across her ribs before arrowing down, running light grooves over her belly to her briefs. He plucked at the elastic and murmured, “These need to come off.”
As his fingers dived lower to comb and lightly tug at her curls, liquid heat filled her.
For comfort’s sake, she hadn’t worn a bra on the flight. In the mirror, through half-lidded eyes she watched him scoop up a breast with one hand while, lower, his other worked beneath her briefs. When he lightly pinched and rolled her nipple, she shivered, sighed and let her head drop to one side. The palm covering her mound urged her closer, pushing her bottom back to mold against him.
Then, knees bending, he began to slide down. She savored the feel of his defined abdomen, his chest and then chin, riding lower down her spine. When she felt his breath warm the small of her back, a finger hooked into the rear of her briefs and the silk was eased down to her knees. He dropped a lazy kiss on a hip then the slope of her bare behind. At the same time, the stroking between her legs delved deeper, slipping a little inside of her. She couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror anymore—she only felt his mouth as it explored one side of her tush before trailing across the small of her back to sample the other side.
When his lips traveled lower and he kissed the sensitive area under the curve of one cheek, she held on to the dresser for support. Between her thighs, his fingertip rode up until he grazed and circled that sensitive nub. When he applied perfect pressure to the spot, stars shot off in her head before falling in a tingling, fire-tipped rain. She brought up one knee. Her briefs dropped from that leg before falling to rest around the other ankle. Pushing to his feet, he turned her around.
As his teeth danced down the column of her throat and his hands cupped her rear—lifting her at the same time they scooped her in—she gripped his shoulders. Steamy heat came through the fabric of his shirt to warm her palms. She brushed her wicked grin through his hair.
“Am I the only one getting undressed here?”
He paused. “Well, now, that could work.”
He backed up a few steps while his gaze drank her in. Feeling desirable—and a little vulnerable—she leaned back against the dresser as his chest expanded on a deeply satisfied breath.
“You’re perfect,” he said. “I could stand here and just look at you all day.”
Her cheeks were burning, not because she was embarrassed but because his words, the honesty in his voice, touched her in a way that left her wanting to please and tease him this much all the time.
With his focus glued on her, he backed up u
ntil his legs met the bed. After he threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the mattress, he beckoned her with a single curl of a finger. He wanted her to walk over and, given the glimmer in his eyes, he wanted her to take her time.
She took a breath and set one foot in front of the other; the closer she got, the more his dark eyes gleamed. When she was close enough, he reached to cup her neck and draw her down.
Her hair fell forward as her lips touched his. The contact was teasing—deliberately light. Her tongue rimmed the upper and lower seam of his mouth before she nipped his bottom lip and gently sucked. That’s when his mouth took hers. As a strong arm coiled around her back, drawing her toward him more, she let her lips slide down and away from his at the same time she lowered to kneel at his feet.
She was positioned between his opened thighs, her mouth inches away from his chest. Taking her time, she released a shirt button, two and then three. Each time, she twirled her tongue over the newly exposed skin.
She pulled the shirttails out from his jeans, and when his shirt lay wide open and the bronzed planes of his chest and stomach were completely revealed, she started on his pants. With him leaning back, his arms supporting his weight, she flicked the snap, unzipped his fly. As she tugged at his jeans, her head dropped down.
Her tongue drew a lazy circle around his navel before she dotted moist kisses along the trail of hair that led to his boxer briefs. When she grazed her teeth over the bulge waiting there, his chest gave an appreciative rumble and he leaned back more, propping his weight on his elbows. Her fingers curled inside his briefs.
She dug out his engorged shaft and whirled a finger around the naked tip before her head lowered and her mouth covered him—barely an inch. Gripping his length at its base, her fist squeezed up as her mouth came down. Relishing the taste of him—the scent—she repeated the move again and again, taking her time, building the heat. He started to curl his pelvis up each time she came down while she squeezed him harder, took him deeper.
Too soon, he was sweeping her up and over, so that she lay flat on the bed. He whipped the shirt off his back and then retrieved a condom from his wallet, all before she could say she wasn’t finished with him yet. When he tore open the foil, she took the condom and rolled the rubber all the way on. After ditching the jeans, he came back to kiss her, first thoroughly and then in one hungry, savoring snatch after another.
They were tangled up around each other, breathing ragged and energy pumped, when he urged her onto her side and pressed in against her—his front to her back. As he nuzzled the side of her neck, he drew her leg back over his and entered her in a “no prisoners” kind of way.
When he slid her leg back more, she stretched and ground against him. His thigh felt like a steel pylon. His chest was a slab of thermal rock. She grazed her cheek against his biceps as he held her and moved, setting up a rhythm that fed the pulse thumping in her throat and in her womb.
With his palm pressed against her belly, his fingers toyed with her curls. With each sweep, he grazed that uber-sensitive nub. The contact was maddening—drugging and delicious. When she was balanced on a precipice, oh-so ready to let go, he used his weight to tip her over.
Her leg uncoiled from around his thigh and her knee dug into the mattress at the same time her cheek pressed against the pillow. Settling in behind her, he began moving again, his pace faster now—fast enough for the front of his thighs to slap the backs of hers. This different angle changed the way that he filled her, placing a different pressure on a sensitive spot inside. The pleasure was so fragile and yet fierce—too exquisite to get her whirling mind around.
As his thrusts went deeper, he slid a palm under her belly to lift and press her closer. A searing heat compressed her core. A few more thrusts and she cried out as her fingers curled into the sheet and contractions swept in.
A heartbeat later, he gripped her hips and his strangled growl of release filled her ears.
Eight
“We don’t have to go down,” Wynn murmured as he bundled her close. “Go back to sleep.”
After making love in his former bedroom, he and Grace had crashed. When his watch alarm had beeped a moment ago, he’d been stirred from a vivid dream—and Wynn rarely dreamed.
They were kids again, back in Colorado that Christmas long ago. There was a snowman with a screwy felt hat, and Wynn’s scar was a fresh wound on his brow. Rather than blame an annoying brat for the gash, Wynn wondered if he’d tripped over his lace. He’d gone on to invite Grace—a lively, pretty thing—back to his parents’ home in Australia.
“My brain feels full of cottonwool,” Grace murmured against his chest as she tangled her leg around his. Her toes tickled the back of his knee. “But everyone’s expecting us.”
Inhaling the remnants of floral perfume mixed with the more alluring scent of woman, he kissed her crown. “They’ll understand.”
She glanced up. A line formed between her brows as she pushed hair away from her face. “We’re not spending all our time here, right?”
“You mean in bed?”
She grinned. “In Sydney, dummy.”
“I do have a surprise or two planned.”
“Then I want to spend as much time as I can with Teagan while we’re here.” Grace shifted to lean up against the headboard of the bed. Her hair was mussed and still flopped over one side of her brow. “Do you know if she’s seeing anyone? Anyone special?”
“Dex said he thought that she might be. But the man who catches our Ms. Independence will need to be darn determined.”
She concurred. “Doesn’t work until a girl wants to be caught.”
“Like this?”
Craning up, he exacted one very thorough kiss that he didn’t want to end.
When his mouth finally left hers, her breathing was heavier. The sheet had slipped from under her arms. Sliding down, he took a warm nipple deep into his mouth. His tongue was teasing the tip and his hand was snaking down over her belly when she gathered herself and pushed at his shoulders.
“I need a shower.”
He spoke around the nipple. “You really don’t.”
Grace eased off the mattress and he lost possession of that breast. Then she was on her feet, standing in front of him with fists on her hips, as if that could put him off. He would have hooked her around her waist and brought her back—only he had a better idea.
Pushing up on an elbow, he cradled his cheek in his palm and nudged his chin. “Bathroom’s that way.”
Her eyes narrowed as if she suspected he might suddenly pounce, but he only smiled.
Two minutes later, Grace had the shower running and Wynn was swinging open the glass door to join her. When she turned to face him—her hair wet and rivulets of foam trailing over her body—her expression was not surprised. As he stepped in, she threaded slippery arms up and around his neck. With her breasts sliding and brushing against his ribs, she grazed her lips up his throat to his chin.
“You are so predictable,” she said.
Grinning, he reached for the soap. “Don’t bet on it.”
* * *
“It’s about time!”
Standing alongside of Wynn in the Hunter mansion’s manicured backyard, Grace tracked down the source of the remark.
Inside an extravagant pavilion, two house staff flipped and prodded food grilling on a barbecue. A third attendant, carrying a drinks tray, was headed for the resort-style bar. Music played—a current hit from the U.K.—while a half dozen people splashed around in an enormous pool. Australian time put the hour at six o’clock, but the sun’s heat and angle said they had a couple more hours of daylight yet to enjoy.
Grace heard the male voice that had greeted them earlier call again from the pool. “We were getting ready to come up and drag you two out of bed,” Dex said as he splashed water in their direction.
Grace’s cheeks heated, but it was a harmless remark. No one knew what she and Wynn had gotten up to. Even if they had guessed, they were all adults, with one exception.
In the pool, Tate was balanced on Cole’s shoulders. He had his legs wrapped around his big brother’s neck and was kicking in excitement. With a grin, Grace wondered where the dinosaurs were.
“Wynn!” the little boy called out. “I got a beach ball. We’re in teams. You’re with me!”
“Us against those two clowns?” Wynn called back, making a face as he gestured toward Cole and Dex. “Hardly seems fair.”
Wynn wore a pair of square-leg black trunks that, along with his impressive upper body and long, strong legs, made Grace want to pounce on him again. She wore a bikini the color of the pool water with a matching resort-style dress cover. Now, the arm around her waist brought her closer as he asked, “Are you game?”
To splash around in that enormous pool with four boys?
Taryn was already out of the water, wringing her long dark hair, and Shelby was wading up the last of the arced pool stairs, right behind her. Teagan must be around somewhere, too.
“I have a feeling a lot of splashing and dunking is about to go down.” She pinched his scratchy chin. “I’ll go hang with the girls.”
She craned up to catch his light kiss before returning her attention to the women. Shelby was motioning her over.
As Wynn ran up to the pool edge and did a cannonball, creating one hell of a splash, Grace accepted a glass of juice from the help and joined Shelby and Taryn near an extravagant outdoor setting.
Grace eyed Taryn’s tan and smiled. “Wynn mentioned you and Cole had been off sailing.”
Taryn wrapped a towel around her hips and folded herself into a chair. “A leisurely sweep around some Pacific islands.” She sighed. “Pure heaven.”
“When are you going again?” Shelby asked, grabbing a plastic flute of orange juice off the table before reclining into a chair.
“If all goes according to plan, we’ll be able to fit it in just after the wedding.” Taryn sent an adoring look over to where her fiancé was spiking a ball at Wynn. “Cole wants to start a family straightaway. Me, too.”
