Grinder (Seattle Sharks Book 1)

by Samantha Whiskey

Gage smirked and wrapped his arms around my hips, bringing our bodies flush as he claimed my mouth. I opened for him, letting his tongue trace the edges of my teeth as he expertly drew a moan from my lips.

  “Gage.” I sighed, hooking my legs around his hips as he hefted me onto the island.

  His lips worked their way from my mouth to the tops of my breasts that peeked generously out of the costume, to my tummy, where the fabric was tight and thin. He slipped his hands underneath the skirt, gripping my thighs.

  “These fishnets may be hotter than those yoga pants you torture me with,” he said, a smirk on his face. “But a maid? Really?”

  “Jeannine has a wonderful sense of humor,” I said, yanking him closer to me with my legs, sighing at the friction his perfectly placed cock offered me.

  He growled, nipping lightly at my neck. “Remind me to send her a thank you note.” He dug his fingers into the holes of the tights as I pulled his shirt over his head.

  Good God this man looked better and better every time I saw him shirtless. His broad chest and rock hard abs were glorious, and he was finally allowing me to touch them, which I did, like a greedy, starved woman. His skin felt so good underneath my fingertips, like warm velvet, and the groan on his lips when I dipped my hand to grip him soaked my panties.

  He reclaimed my mouth, ripping the fishnets out from under the skirt as he licked and sucked my tongue. I gasped when he slipped the black lace thong to the side, his fingers finding home against my clit.

  “Fuck, Bailey,” he said against my mouth. “You’re so wet. Perfection.”

  I bucked against the pressure of his hand, sighing between his lips. He gave into my demands, obliging me with his fingers plunged inside me, curling them in a come hither motion as I rocked against him. Heat pooled low in my belly and all my muscles coiled as I tightened around him. He kissed me until I was breathless, before jerking his head back and working his way lower. He replaced his hand with his mouth, his head disappearing beneath my skirt.

  The marble counter was cold against my barely covered shoulders as I laid on my back, gripping the edge of it above me—I needed something to hold onto and despite his shoulder being solid again, there was no way in hell I’d risk hurting him.

  Was he? Yes, yes he is.

  I gasped as his tongue worked over my clit, the already sensitive flesh reaching new levels of heat as he applied just enough pressure to torture me. The tips of my stilettos dug into his back as I arched against his mouth, moaning and writhing with the need for release. He’d built up my need for so long that I was already spun tight.

  “Gage,” I groaned.

  “I knew it. You’re fucking delicious, Bailey.” His breath was hot against me. “I could wear you around my face all fucking day.”

  “I won’t let you if you don’t—” my words were cut off as he slipped his tongue inside me. A jolt of electricity shot through me, my body coiling so tight I thought I might not survive.

  “Don’t what?” He asked, challenging me. I could hear the smirk in his tone but didn’t care.

  “Please, Gage.”

  “Say it, Bailey.”

  “I need it.” The culmination of weeks worth of wanting him built inside me, and I was on the cusp of explosion.

  “You really fucking do,” he said and pressed his fingers against my clit as his tongue worked me from the inside out.

  I bucked against him, the added pressure gathering rapidly, and when he took my clit into his mouth, sucking it in just the right way, I came undone beneath him.

  Holy shit. There were orgasms, and there was whatever the hell that was. It was another realm of pleasure I’d never seen.

  He gave me only a moment, bringing me down with a few gentle strokes before I heard the beautiful sound of his zipper dropping. He finally came out from underneath my skirt, where I could see the fire in his eyes before he ripped open a foil packet.

  My heart raced, loving that he didn’t take any time to stop, didn’t take time to think—he was as lost to this as I was. He slid my panties off and left my heels on. Gripping my hips, he drew me to where he stood, situating me on the counter at the perfect angle for the tip of his cock to tease my wet, aching center. He locked eyes with me, and I arched against him, one of his strong hands holding the small of my back. That was all the go signal he needed, and he plunged inside me.

  “Fuck, Gage!” I screamed, breathless as his length filled me. I clenched around him, bucking against each of his thrusts as he controlled our speed with the strength of his hands.

  “I love it when you say fuck,” he growled, angling me to get deeper.

  I moaned and he leaned down closer to me, wrapping his free hand around the back of my neck, and lifting me enough to meet his mouth. His kiss was as consuming as the way his cock filled me, and I writhed beneath him, never wanting him to stop.

  Which is exactly what he did, shocking the hell out of me as he went still against me.

  “Let’s move to the bedroom. You deserve a bed,” he whispered against my lips before kissing down my neck. He wrapped his arms around around my hips as if to pick me up, but I grabbed a fistful of his hair and jerked him to me.

  “Don’t you dare stop,” I ordered. I would not let him go. I refused to give him a moment to think, to take me to his room and remember all the reasons he’d kept me out of there since I’d moved in. I secured my legs around his waist and moved them back and forth, forcing him to pump inside me.

  “Ahhhh, fuck. I don’t normally take orders, Bailey.” A low growl rumbled in his chest but he let me take control as he buried his face in my breasts, jerking the tight fabric down just enough to take one of my nipples in his mouth.

  “You do now,” I moaned as he lightly bit it before rolling his tongue along the tip. Pleasure shot through me, streaking from my nipples to where he was buried deep inside me. “God, yes.”

  He thrust harder every time a word slipped out of my mouth, and when he nipped at me again, all the muscles in my body clenched, tightening with need for another release.

  “Come with me, Gage,” I begged. I wanted him to, needed him to let go with me completely. I needed him to be mine without a doubt, if only just in this moment.

  He grew even harder inside me, the friction creating the most delicious flames that licked every inch of my body, inside and out. I gripped him with my thighs, securing him as close to me as humanly possible.

  “Fuck. Bailey,” he sighed my name as I came around him, all the heat in my body soaring as I felt him release inside me.

  He sighed, his body slightly trembling before he dropped his against my chest. We laid there on the kitchen island, silent except for our heaved breaths.

  I tangled my fingers in his hair, combing through it as we both came down from the incredible high he’d taken us to. I didn’t know if it was the costume, the empty house, or the tension that had built between us since I moved in, but I thanked whatever happened inside his head for him to finally lift the restraints on us. And now that I knew what I’d been missing, I didn’t want to go back to the way things had been before.

  The realization that I’d slept with Gage McPherson—my best friend, the father of a little girl I loved, and my boss—sent waves of warmth cascading through me. We’d been perfect together.

  And it was then, with him on top of me, in the kitchen where I made him and his daughter breakfast every morning, that I knew.

  I no longer was falling.

  I’d fallen.

  Now the question remained, would I become just another bunny of his? Or would he finally trust me enough to let me claim him for myself?

  Chapter 11

  Gage

  The sun was out, and I felt it more than in the sixty degree high we were expecting today. There was a lightness in me that I was cautious to call happiness, but it was there all the same.

  I knew exactly who was responsible for it: Bailey.

  Last night...God, she’s been so perfect that I wanted to wax poet
ic. My eyes strayed to the section of the counter I’d taken her on, and my body inconveniently reacted.

  Jesus, you fucked her three times last night, settle down.

  Once in the kitchen. Once in the shower. Finally, once in the bed when we’d woken up this morning. We hadn’t really gotten around to talking about what happened, though. She’d been gone by the time I’d gotten out of the shower, and I wasn’t expecting her until later when we’d give Lettie her present a day early.

  It was hard to hide a swing set the size of a small building.

  “—so that’s when I told her that I wasn’t really looking for something serious,” Rory said, pulling another beer from the fridge and me from my own thoughts.

  “Sounds fair to me,” Warren said with a shrug. “You got those, Gage?”

  “Yeah,” I said, taking the last beer and slipping it into the cooler.

  Beverages on ice and ready for delivery, we carried the cooler out the back deck and down the flight of stairs to the only level place I had in the yard.

  “Beer!” Rory called out.

  While the other Sharks grabbed a cold one—half the team had shown up to help build this thing—I surveyed our almost-done handiwork. The castle itself was huge, with two towers that boasted rock-climbing walls, and two slides. A set of swings came off one end, and a little zipline would be on the other. Maybe she wasn’t quite big enough for the zipline, but it had been really fucking cool, so I purchased the add-on.

  “Wow, it looks amazing,” Bailey said from behind me.

  I turned immediately, a smile already on my face as I found her standing in overalls with buckets and a huge toolbox. “Hey, I didn’t think I’d get to see you until later.”

  She gave me a timid smile. “Your mom took her for a birthday pedicure, so I thought I’d get started on that dragon we talked about.”

  “Yeah, that sounds fantastic. Are you sure you don’t mind?” Her talents were way better than the side of a soon-to-be four-year-old’s play castle.

  “I’d love to. That way she’ll always have a piece of me here.” That sad smile of hers reappeared.

  “Well, I love the idea, but you’ll be here, too, right? Is something wrong?” Fuck. Had I screwed up last night? She’d come at least five times. I’d counted. I’d wanted to make sure that if she ever left my bed, she’d have an impossible time replacing me.

  Then again, I was kind of hoping she wasn’t going to want to leave.

  “No,” she said, but she was looking at her feet.

  “Bailey. We’ve been friends since we were kids, I think I can tell when you’re lying.”

  She looked up and hit me with those gorgeous eyes of hers. “I’m fine, seriously. I just… we didn’t really get a chance to talk about…”

  “About the incredible, mind-blowing sex? Or the fact that we kind of blew apart the line we’d agreed not to cross? Or how I can’t keep my mind from wandering to how perfect you fit around me?”

  She blushed. “Quiet,” she ordered in a whisper.

  “Why?” I shrugged. “I don’t care who knows. Hell, I might need to kiss you publically just to mark my territory around these guys. You can’t trust horny hockey players.”

  “Let’s just keep this between us for today, ok? At least until we can talk alone, later?”

  I wasn’t a fan of the way that sounded. I leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Sure, as long as you know that I plan on getting you very naked later.”

  She smiled and shook her head at me. “Later.”

  It took every ounce of restraint in my body not to kiss her, but I respected her wishes. Hopefully she didn’t think I was going the one-night stand route, but after all she’d seen, I couldn’t blame her if she did.

  I’d just have to rectify that line of thinking tonight. I could hardly wait.

  Hammer in hand, I climbed to flat part at the top of Lettie’s castle and started to attach the shingles to the top of the towers. After each row, I looked down to see Bailey at work, her concentration purely on the green-scaled dragon that would guard my Princess’s keep. Not that Lettie needed it. My girl was more likely to grab a sword and defend her own castle.

  But I fucking loved that Bailey was pouring her love into Lettie’s present the way she had our home—with no reservations and no regrets. Yet.

  I kicked that thought out. Bailey wasn’t every other woman. If she left, it would be for a damn good reason. I just had to make sure I didn’t give her one.

  “Hand me another one?” I asked Warren, and he continued our assembly line as I conquered this side of the roof and Rory hit the other.

  Another shingle in hand, I lifted it to the roofline and started to swing—

  “Well, if this isn’t just the cutest thing!”

  The saccharine-sweet voice grated on my every nerve and shot them all to hell in the millisecond it took her to speak. Helen. My head swung to see our intruder, and my jaw dropped at the same time the hammer did.

  Onto my mother-fucking finger.

  “God fucking damn it!” I shouted, tossing my hammer to the floor next to me and examining my hand.

  “Well, I don’t think it’s really appropriate to use that language around our daughter, do you?” she asked, putting her perfectly manicured hands into fists and placing them on her Prada-clad hips. She pursed her lips under huge sunglasses as her long, blonde hair trailed down her back, and ice-cold rage charged my veins.

  Every hammer stopped around us as we became the center attraction. “Since Lettie isn’t here, I’ll use whatever language I see fit. What the fuck are you doing here, Helen?”

  “Screw that, let me see your hand,” Warren snapped, examining my throbbing third finger on my left hand. “Damn it, you smacked it hard. Can you bend it?”

  “Lettie. What a horrid nickname. I came to see Scarlett since her birthday is tomorrow, of course,” she said like it was simple—like she was the kind of mom who even thought about her kid.

  “Oh, are you coming to the party?” The rookie asked.

  “Shut the fuck up, Rookie,” Rory snapped.

  “Party, tomorrow, huh?” Helen asked.

  “Can you bend it?” Warren demanded a second time.

  It was hard—like looking away from a spider you need to kill—but I took my eyes off her. And bent my fingers. “Yeah, but it hurts like hell.”

  The digit was angry, red, throbbing and probably going to need to be taped.

  “At least it isn’t broken.” Warren looked over to where Helen waited. “Maybe take it inside,” he whispered. “Not all these guys need to hear your business two days before we take on Ontario.”

  I nodded my agreement and jumped down from the top of the castle. Stupid, given that I could have just fucked myself up in a myriad of ways, but this wasn’t going to wait any longer.

  “Gage,” Bailey called.

  “Later,” I snapped at her, then closed my eyes. I took a deep breath and turned toward where she stood, splattered in paint, even on the tip of her delectable nose. “God, I’m so sorry, Bailey. Just...I need to deal with this.”

  She nodded, the motion small. I wanted to kiss the frightened look off her face, to assure her that I wasn’t going to do anything with Helen that I might regret, but I needed to get the viper out of our house first.

  “So nice to see that you’re still trailing after Gage, Bailey,” Helen sang.

  I saw red. “Get in the fucking house, Helen.”

  She sashayed her ass up the stairs ahead of me as I composed what I was about to say. I wanted to rip her limb from limb for abandoning our daughter, but I had to keep my head on straight. I’d been waiting for this opportunity for almost two years and I couldn’t blow it.

  “It’s nice,” she said, surveying our breakfast room into the kitchen. “An artist, huh?” she asked as she saw the twin easels Bailey had set up in the sunlight so she could paint with Lettie.

  “Bailey’s a good influence,” I said, as I passed her and went straight to
the desk in the kitchen. I pulled open the file cabinet at the bottom and pulled a manila envelope from the bottom.

  “I’m actually really glad you came by,” I said, trying to keep my voice as even as possible as I came back into the breakfast room. I didn’t want her in the kitchen. Helen was like a disease, and I wanted her as far away from Bailey’s favorite room, and my favorite memory as possible.

  “Me, too,” Helen said, pulling her sunglasses to the top of her head. “I’m sorry that Scarlett isn’t here, though. Does she ask about me?”

  Her eyes were wide, but there was no sadness there, no genuine concern for the little girl we’d created.

  “No.”

  Her mouth popped open. “Really? I mean...I’m her mother.”

  “In biology,” I admitted, but that was it. “You left when she was barely two, the minute the doc said I’d miss the rest of that season and all of the next. All she knows about you is that you’re not here.”

  She straightened. “Well, I’m here now.”

  “For three days. You haven’t so much as called her since you walked out.”

  “She was two!” she snapped. “What do you say on the phone to a two-year-old?”

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose with my uninjured hand and tried to ignore its insistent throbbing. “You know what? I don’t want to fight.”

  She sighed and walked over to me, swinging her hips. Her fingers trailed over my chest, and I swallowed back the urge to vomit. “Me, either, Gage. I know walking out on you was horrid, but it really was for the best. And I have missed you, I promise.”

  “Right.” I stepped out of her range.

  “I want to see Scarlett.”

  “It’s always about you, isn’t it?” I snapped. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Mom’s advice swirled in my head and I did my best to cool my temper. Besides, we each had something the other wanted. Leverage was never bad. “Look, I’ll let you come tomorrow on one condition.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, putting on a fake, sexy pout that held no allure. Not after I’d spent an entire night listening to Bailey’s genuine, breathless sighs in my ear.