by Lily Cahill
He braced one arm against the edge of the bed and hauled Grace toward him with the other. It made her pussy press against his stomach, and she tilted her head back with the sensation.
Tim buried his face between her breasts and breathed out loudly.
“Good lord, I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you. Your shirt wet, your tits right there in my face.”
Grace laughed. “So you weren’t the only one who had trouble sleeping that night.”
Tim peered up at Grace, his expression wicked. “Are you telling me you touched yourself and thought of me?”
A little smile played against Grace’s lips. “And if I did?”
Tim growled again and lapped at her nipple peaking the fabric of her bra. Grace groaned and pressed her chest against his mouth.
With quick fingers, Tim reached around Grace’s back and unhooked her bra. It fell to the floor, and her breasts pushed against Tim’s face. With achingly slow movements, he traced the edge of her breasts, circling in toward her peaked nipples. God, she could barely stand it. She quivered with anticipation and nearly grabbed his head and rammed it to her nipple.
But then he was there, and it was heaven. He pinched her with one hand and dipped his mouth to her other tit. Grace let her head fell back and gasped with pleasure. He sucked at her, his teeth grazing her sensitive nipple. Tim lapped at her, lavished her with the delicious ministrations of his mouth, but his hand didn’t still.
It trailed down her electrified skin. Lower … lower … lower. Grace spread her thighs, tilted her pelvis up just as his fingers whispered against her slit. He hooked the edge of her panties and tugged them to the side, and Grace thought she would burst with the desire pulsing through her.
His fingers dragged up her wet pussy, teased at her clit, and Grace moaned loudly. She felt Tim smile against her tit, then his lips closed around her once more at the same time that he rubbed her clit. He didn’t let up, didn’t slow down. He was giving her every bit of pleasure she could handle, and all Grace wanted was more. One finger plunged into her, pumping in and out while he rubbed her clit.
“Lay back,” Tim whispered, his voice hoarse.
Grace fell back against the bed, and Tim’s mouth trailed down her stomach, her hip, her thigh. His lips were hot, his mouth wet and open. Grace’s breath was high and tight, and she squirmed against his fingers still deep inside of her.
Tim’s breath whispered up the inside of her thigh, paused at the juncture of her thighs. “Can I kiss you?”
Grace gripped the quilt on top of the bed and nearly shouted. “God, yes.”
One handed, he tugged her panties down, then Grace kicked them off. She was naked before him, naked and throbbing with need. Then his tongue was there, right there against her clit. She moaned loudly and tilted her hips up. His fingers plunged deep inside of her, and he lapped at her, his tongue a wonder against her. His mouth closed around her nub, and he sucked at her.
Grace cried out, her entire body tightening. Oh God, she was going to come. It shuddered through her, a tornado of sensations that whipped her body into a frenzy. She panted, gasping for breath. And still Tim sucked at her, his tongue rolling against her clit and his fingers working inside her.
Her body tightened, coiled up like metal, then everything exploded outward. She moaned loudly, and her body fell still, languid. Her knees fell open, and Tim rested his forehead against her thigh.
But his fingers were still inside her. She could feel her swollen pussy still throbbing against them. He dragged them out slowly, then slid them back in. Hovering over her, Tim pressed kissed against her stomach, her nipple, her neck.
When she fluttered her eyes open, he was there, smiling down at her. Grace scooted up onto the bed, and Tim stretched out beside her. His fingers were soft, gentle, and slowly her body awoke once more. He hooked his fingers against that sensitive spot deep inside her, and Grace sucked in a sharp breath.
“Stop,” she managed.
When Tim frowned, she smiled.
“You don’t get to have all the fun.” She shimmied away from him, freeing his hand, then straddled his still-clothed groin. Her fingers shook slightly from the after-effects of her orgasm, but she made quick work of his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. She tugged his pants down, and he shimmied out of them.
His cock strained against the fabric of his boxer-briefs, and Grace swallowed hard at the sight of it. Lord, but he was big. Her pussy grew wet at the promise of him inside her.
But not yet.
Taking her time, Grace slid down Tim’s taut body, letting her breasts glide down his skin. She hooked the band of his underwear with her fingers and tugged them down. She paused at the head of his cock and looked up at Tim from below her lashes.
“Can I suck you?”
Tim could only groan in answer, but he nodded.
She teased the tip of his enormous cock, brushing against it with her lips, her tongue. She grabbed hold of his shaft and slid her hand down the length of him, making his cock shudder.
“Grace,” Tim stuttered. “Grace, there’s something I need to—”
She didn’t let him finish. She plunged his cock into her mouth, taking him deep. Tim groaned again, and his hand tangled up in her hair. She worked up the length of him, moving her tongue and sucking. Faster now, harder, she sucked Tim’s cock and felt his entire body shudder with pleasure. She wanted to give him exactly what he’d given her. To give him more. And more.
“Wait,” Tim croaked.
Grace kept him in her mouth and looked up at him.
“I need to be inside you,” he panted. “Please.”
Then in one swift motion, he turned over and dragged Grace with him. She was on her knees, her ass in the air. Tim squeezed her ass and slid his fingers against her slit.
“Condom,” Grace managed.
He grunted his assent, and she heard him grabbing his pants. A moment later, she felt the tip of his cock press against her pussy. Tim grabbed hold of her hips, then plunged into her.
Grace cried out in ecstasy. God, he was so big. His cock plunged so deep. She gasped and tilted her ass up to take more of him. He pumped in and out of her, each thrust of his enormous cock rubbing against that spot deep inside. Lord, she was going to come again. Harder than the last time.
Then right at the edge of orgasm, Tim pulled his dick free and rolled Grace over. He hovered over her, his arms braced at either side of her face. Slowly, slowly, he eased his cock into her, his eyes locked on hers.
“Grace,” he whispered. He ducked his head to hers as he thrust slowly into her and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. “Grace, my name is Bret. Say it. Say my real name.”
Grace looked up into Tim—no, Bret’s—piercing blue eyes and hooked her ankles around his back.
“Bret,” she whispered.
He plunged deep, pumped faster.
“Bret,” she said again.
He closed his eyes and smiled, plunging into her over and over. Her orgasm built to a blinding crescendo, then flooded though her body once more.
“Bret,” she cried out. “Bret!”
Chapter Nine
Grace
GRACE STOOD UNDER THE SMALL porch at the back of the apartment and rubbed her arms. Lightning electrified the sky, illuminating towering storm clouds. Rain pelted the weedy lot behind the building, cold and angry.
A lot like how Grace felt right now.
She couldn’t deny her attraction to Tim … no, Bret. It still felt strange to think of him as Bret. Not that she’d had a problem with it a few minutes ago. But now ….
Grace rubbed harder at her arms, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just betrayed her soulmate. Her destiny belonged to the bear. He was out there somewhere right now—somewhere close, even—and fate would pull them together. She knew that.
So then why had she so eagerly fallen into bed with Bret? Grace clamped her eyes shut, but all she saw was Bret, all she felt was the way he’d touched her, ma
de love to her.
The back door creaked open, and Grace felt warmth settle over her shoulders. She glanced behind to see Bret smoothing an old wool blanket around her. The light in his eyes … the warmth. It made the guilt bubbling through Grace threaten to overwhelm her. She hadn’t just betrayed her fated mate—the key to her lock—she’d betrayed Bret. Grace knew a truth he didn’t—how could he?—and yet she’d been weak. She’d let lust cloud everything she knew to be true.
She’d hurt him by sleeping with him.
Bret ran his hands down Grace’s arms and encircled her in a gentle hug.
“I’ve never seen storms quite like this before,” he said, his chin resting on top of Grace’s head.
“Everything’s bigger in Texas,” she said absently, her mind a million miles away.
She couldn’t do this. Every moment with Bret felt more significant than the last, like they could really be building something beautiful and amazing. But it was destined to fail. She had to end this now, before she hurt Bret even more.
Grace extricated herself from Bret’s embrace and stood back. She couldn’t quite look at him as she said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For this … this can’t happen between us. I’m meant to be with someone else.”
Bret blew a long breath out past his lips. “Destiny again. I don’t give a damn about destiny, Grace. I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t want to ever stop touching you. I’ve never felt like this before, like … like I would give up everything to be with you for the rest of my life. I don’t care what destiny tells us, I want to be with you.”
Grace squared her shoulders. “Destiny matters to me, Bret. And besides, what do I even know about you? I didn’t even know your real name until …,” her voice faded away for a minute before recovering herself. “You lied to me about your name. What else are you lying about?”
The light in Bret’s eyes blinked out. “So you’re going to make yourself unhappy just because you think I’m not the right person for you. You’re just hiding behind this destiny bullshit.”
Grace jutted her chin and let her eyes go cold. “We can’t all be selfish like you are. I have a family to consider, a family that expects certain things of me.” Grace deflated, her flash of anger subsiding. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, but I think it’s time you moved on.”
Every line of Bret’s body grew taut, agitated. “You have no idea what I gave up,” he hissed. “I was only thinking of my family, what was best for them when I walked away from it all, from my brothers, from success, from ….”
Bret stared at Grace for one awful moment, hatred plain in his face, then he strode out into the storm and disappeared into the darkness.
And it was only then, when he was too far away to hear, that Grace let herself cry. She folded the blanket over the back of a metal chair for Bret, then went home.
Chapter Ten
Bret
BRET PRESSED THE HEELS OF his hands against his eyes. He was still in the apartment, could still smell Grace on the sheets.
He’d barely slept. He’d let his bear run for half the night, and tossed and turned in this godforsaken bed the other half. One thought haunted him: Grace refused to give her love to him, just like fate promised in his vision all those years ago. He was truly destined to be alone.
Bret shoved his palms against his eyes. One night. He’d spent one night with this woman, and his heart felt … changed. He’d been moved to tell her his real name. Christ, he would have told her so much more if she’d let him. Was this how all those women had felt the day after he’d slept with them? Guilt crept over his skin and made him shiver.
Fate wasn’t just promising he’d be alone. Fate was dealing out a comeuppance. One he deserved. For the rest of his life, Grace would be the woman who held his heart, and he could do nothing about it.
Now, the only thing left to do was … leave. Bret shoved himself up and threw what little he had in his canvas duffle. He placed his guitar in its case, then paused. All the new music he’d written over the last few days was tucked away in a pocket.
Before he could stop himself, he pulled out one sheet of music that he’d composed with Grace in mind. In a scrawling hand, he wrote out “for Grace” at the top, then left it on the pillow.
Bret didn’t know where he’d go next, but he knew he had to get the hell away from this place. Maybe he’d walk to that diner—Darlene’s—and hitch a ride west. Alone, again. Naturally. Bret took one last look around the tiny apartment, a place he’d spent one perfect evening with Grace, then pulled the door shut behind him. He headed out into the deserted, quiet bar and was nearly at the door when he heard a voice.
“Tim.”
Bret turned, already frowning, to see Mateo. The kid was sitting in the corner, his feet up on a table and his chair tilted back on two legs.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?”
Mateo let the chair thunk to the floor and shrugged. “I skipped. Grace would murder me if she found out, but—”
“Then you should get your ass back to art class,” Bret said, holding tight to his bag.
Mateo stood up and walked closer. “Dude, she was up crying all night. You know how much that sucks to hear your sister sobbing in the next room?”
Discomfort rumbled through Bret. Had she really been crying because of him?
“Look, I don’t know what happened, but I can’t just let my sister be upset. And you leaving would make her way more upset. I’d probably have to acknowledge that she was crying, and that really sucks for me.”
“Mateo,” Bret started. “Your sister and I ….”
Mateo held his hands up. “I don’t want to hear it, dude. All I know is that my sister has given up so much for me, to try to make me a good man. And trust me, I haven’t made it easy on her. There are things …. Shit sucks right now, man. My family is kind of crazy and they’re obsessed with trying to get revenge and get power and Grace is only caught up in everything because of me.”
Bret sighed and let his duffle fall to the floor. If he was the hugging sort, he’d be tempted to give this kid a giant one right now. He could see how difficult this was for him, telling Bret these things.
“My sister has been trying to keep us afloat, keep us safe. But since you showed up, it’s like she’s the old Grace. She’s been happier than I’ve seen her in years.”
Bret leaned back against the bar. He couldn’t deny it. He’d been happier in the last week as well. Grace was like a healing balm to his soul. Bret looked up at Mateo with hopeful eyes.
“Grace is lucky to have a brother like you, Mateo.”
Mateo grinned, revealing white, slightly crooked teeth. The smile lit his face up, gave a hint of what he’d look like as a man. Bret realized quite suddenly that he cared what this kid would be like as an adult. He wanted good things for him. He wanted … he wanted to be a good role model for him. It nearly shocked him off his feet.
It also made him miss his brothers so much he could barely breathe. If he could go back to that moment backstage and do it all over, he would. He’d admit what was happening, the reason he’d grown so twisted and full of hate. But could he ever really go back? He’d turned away from his family, his career, even his name.
And yet … it was because of that horrible moment that he’d eventually found Grace.
Bret looked up and met Mateo’s large, dark brown eyes. There was so much hope in the kid. Bret couldn’t disappoint him. He also couldn’t lie.
“Before you decide I’m exactly what Grace needs, I need to tell you something.”
“Anything, Tim.”
Bret grimaced. “My name isn’t Tim. It’s Bret. I … I was part of this band with my brothers, and I walked out on them, on the band.” God, it felt so good to claim his name again. Bret raised his eyebrows at Mateo. “I made a colossal mistake with my family, but I want to make it right. I want to make it right with Grace. I …. The way I feel about her ….”
Bret looked at Mateo with hope swelling in his heart. “Is there something I can do to show her what we could have together? She just needs to give me a chance.”
Mateo screwed his face up in concentration for a moment, then his eyes lit up.
Chapter Eleven
Grace
GRACE FROWNED AND EYED THE door. This was highly unusual. It was just after ten in the morning, and Mateo was the one pounding on her bedroom door.
“You should be sitting in Mr. Boyd’s history classroom right now, Mateo Lopez,” Grace shouted at the door.
“He sent me home on an errand,” Mateo said through the crack in the door. “Can I come in?”
Grace rolled over to sit and tried to arrange her hair into something approximating a put-together woman who hadn’t spent half the night crying.
After a moment, the door creaked open. Mateo was holding a coffee and a big donut on a plate. Grace nearly started crying all over again.
Mateo handed over the food then perched on the bed next to Grace. “It seemed like you needed it,” Mateo said, looking at his feet.
“Am I that pathetic?” Grace took a big bite of the donut and closed her eyes in carb bliss. “So,” she said around the mouthful of food. “This errand?”
“It involves you changing out of your pajamas and brushing your teeth.”
Grace grimaced, but stood and stretched. “God, I am that pathetic.”
Mateo grinned. “Don’t cuss.”
Grace rolled her eyes but grinned back. She rifled through her closet and grabbed a simple yellow cotton dress with eyelet along the hem and her worn-in cowboy boots, then padded down the hall to the bathroom to splash her face with water and brush her teeth. She was back in just a minute and found Mateo at her bedroom door holding the coffee and donut—though she noticed significantly more of the donut was missing.
