by Jess Dee
He set the box of poker chips and cards on the table and turned to put out glasses and drinks.
Beer? Check.
Wine? Check.
Vodka coolers—
The lights above him flickered and died, cloaking him in darkness.
Well, just freaking perfect. Poker in less than an hour, and no lights. No text message, either, but hey, who’s keeping track?
“Trev?” a feminine voice called from the other side of the house. “The power’s gone again.”
He laughed softly. As if he needed the heads-up. Still, he couldn’t get annoyed. Not when it was Grace Miles stating the obvious. It seemed anything that came out of his new housemate’s mouth was welcome. So long as he could hear her voice, he was happy.
“How often does this happen in Sydney?” Grace yelled. “It’s the third time in as many weeks.”
“Not often at all,” Trev called back and inched his way to the lounge room. “Almost never, in fact. Something must be wonky with the power supply to the neighborhood.”
“Yeah? Well, I wish they’d fix it. I’m running late.”
“You going out now?”
“Uh-huh. Got a date.”
Lucky man. Trev wouldn’t mind dating his gorgeous housemate. With her long blonde hair, unbelievable curves and breasts that begged to be touched, Grace was easy on the eyes. Very easy on the eyes indeed. Which surprised Trev, seeing as he usually didn’t give women much of a second glance. Not that he had anything against them. No, not that at all. He’d had his fair share of women in the past, and he’d enjoyed them all heartily. Lately, however, his taste favored men.
Tall, ripped men with hard asses and jet black hair. Men with eyes so blue they shocked him every time he looked into them. Men who knew just how to kiss him to fire up his senses and just where to touch him to keep his body burning. Men who he spent the night with maybe once every week or two. Men who should be texting him right about now to see if they’d be spending tonight together.
Fuck, who was he kidding? Trev wasn’t interested in men. There was only one man who had his attention. One very hot, very sexy diamond dealer he hadn’t seen in six weeks, thanks to his diamond dealings around the world.
Just thinking about Max Ashberg made his cock ache, and he rubbed it, trying to ward off the frustration and pain. If the man would just text him, he could answer yes and spend the rest of the evening secure in the knowledge that relief was but a few hours away. Relief, pleasure and a night of blistering passion.
Or maybe it wasn’t Max he ached for. Maybe it was Grace.
Since she’d moved in with him, her sweet, feminine aroma had been doing crazy things to his libido. Wild, unexpected things. Never mind her scent, just looking at her had him twitchy and aroused. It was those damn pajamas of hers. The flimsy silk that didn’t cover nearly enough flesh.
Watching her breasts swaying gently beneath her top? It blew his mind. Fuck knew, he shouldn’t be looking at his roomie’s braless breasts, but when she walked into the kitchen in the mornings he simply couldn’t help himself. No man could.
Fuck with a capital F.
Trev squeezed the base of his dick through his jeans. Fantasies about his gorgeous housemate in a dark house were not a good thing. Not when those fantasies were all twisted up with dark hair, blue eyes and a cock so perfect Trev’s mouth watered just thinking about it.
“Trev?” Grace called again. Only this time her voice was much closer. She’d walked into the lounge room, and he hadn’t noticed.
He yanked his arm to his side, thankful it was dark enough she wouldn’t have seen him cradling his cock. “I’m right here.”
He should have noticed her presence. Hints of vanilla wafted in the air around him, the unmistakable aroma of Grace. The scent made him want to fall to his knees and bury his face between her legs.
How long had it been since he’d tasted a woman’s pussy? Since he’d burrowed his tongue between her legs and licked her creamy folds?
Two years. He’d lost the yearning to make love to anyone else after his first taste of Max.
Headlights from a passing car lit the lounge room momentarily, and there she was. Meters away from him. Then it was dark again.
“Take my hand,” he told her and reached out blindly in her direction. “For your own safety. With my luck I’ll trip right over you and knock us both unconscious.” Clumsy was Trev’s middle name. If there was a plate to be dropped, he dropped it. A glass to be knocked over, he knocked it. Grace had learned quickly to put all her pottery gear away lest Trev trip over it and break it.
“Good idea,” she answered, and he could hear the smile in her voice. There was one lady not willing to take any chances in the dark with him.
She must have taken advantage of the temporary illumination and stepped forward, because he found her sooner than expected. Only in typical Trev style, it wasn’t her hand he found.
Her sharp intake of breath was his first indication he’d reached a part of her body he hadn’t intended to. The tingles racing across his palm and shooting up his arm were the second sign, and the tightening of his already hard penis the final confirmation that he’d cupped his hand neatly around her breast—her plump, luscious and, oh, fuck, bra-free breast—and squeezed ever so softly.
No, the squeezing had not been intentional. It had been instinctive. If he didn’t move his hand the hell away, he’d squeeze again, and then again, and then he’d use both hands and probably his mouth as well.
“Hell.” He dropped his arm like he’d burnt his fingers. “Sorry, ’bout that, Gracie.”
It took her a few seconds to answer. “It’s okay.” Her voice, usually a low sensual hum, was slightly higher than he’d heard it before. “It’s dark in here. If anyone was gonna make that kind of mistake, you’re it.” She chuckled.
Trev laughed with her, feeling anything but humorous. “Yeah, or maybe I’m just being a typical guy and taking advantage of the dark to cop a feel.” Because that’s what he was. A typical guy. Craving a man’s cock and a woman’s pussy, just like any other guy out there.
Grace snorted. “You grabbed my breast on purpose?”
“Hell, yeah. Lights are off, no one will ever know better, and you have a fine pair.”
“You’re incorrigible.” Grace laughed. “And clumsy as hell. Now, about the lights, how long do you think it’ll take for them to come back on?”
Trev breathed a sigh of relief and frustration. Crisis averted. Hard-on still there. “No idea. And this time the electricity’s out too. Looks like we have to phone the Council and find out what’s up.”
“Damn it. I have to dry my hair. I’m going out in less than thirty minutes.”
Her date. “Do I know the guy?”
“Not sure. Hunter set it up. Told me it was someone from his work.”
Probably no one he knew, then.
Seemed like Grace’s cousin, Hunter Miles, was good at setting her up. He was the one who’d suggested she move in with Trev. The timing was perfect. Trev had mentioned at their weekly poker game he was looking for a housemate, and a week or so later Hunter phoned to say his cousin was moving to Sydney from Adelaide and needed a place to stay. Within ten days Grace was settled in Trev’s spare room.
Not for the first time, he wondered how Max would respond to the news. They’d never had another person in the house with them before. Would tonight be the first time?
Fuck. Why hadn’t his phone beeped yet? Max never waited this late to text.
“Where are you going?” Trev asked out of politeness. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Grace dating. Yeah, selfish of him when his thoughts were all wrapped up in Max, but the thought of her with another man didn’t sit well.
“Drinks, and if that works out, dinner.” She laughed. “If I’m not home by eleven, don’t wait up.”
Tre
v stumbled on his answer. If she wasn’t home by eleven, she was probably spending the night with her date. The thought made him want to hit something.
But if she wasn’t home by eleven, then he and Max would have the gift of solitude. His dick twitched. There was nothing like spending quality private time with Max. Nothing like it at all. If Trev could make it permanent quality private time, he’d do so in a heartbeat.
He patted his phone, waiting for it to vibrate.
“I’ll leave a light on in case,” he teased.
“Nice gesture, Trev.” Grace snorted delicately. “Which light would that be exactly? The outside light that’s not working, or one of the fifty inside lights that aren’t working?”
“Fine, so I’ll leave a candle burning instead,” he offered gallantly.
“You have candles?” Grace’s voice was hopeful.
“Yep. I bought them after the last power failure.”
“Brilliant. I can use them to find some clothes and finally get dressed.”
“You’re not dressed?” Okay, so he’d grasped the unimportant part of her sentence, but damn, Grace without clothes? Standing next to him in the dark? The things he could do with her naked…
Hang on, she was dressed. He’d seen her in the car’s headlights and grabbed her breast, and she was definitely wearing something.
Grace muttered under her breath, then said, “Not only am I not dressed, but my hair’s wet and I haven’t got any make-up on. I’m still wearing my pjs, so I’m never gonna make it on time. Unless…we get those candles you mentioned.”
Trev’s eyes shut of their own accord. Christ, pajamas and no underwear. None at all. Never mind braless, the woman was pantiless too.
Which meant nothing covered her bottom save for that flimsy pair of pajama pants.
In that minute, the thought of burying his cock in a warm, wet pussy appealed as it hadn’t in two long years.
Add that to the endless wait for Max’s text message and the desperation to feel Max’s cock in his ass, and Trev was fucked. Well, proverbially speaking, anyway.
He shook his head. He needed to get laid. Bad. He’d thought of nothing else for days. Weeks. With Max’s absence and Grace’s appearance, he was hanging on by a fine thread. That wasn’t all. As if the physical desire to sleep with someone wasn’t bubbling through his veins like unleashed testosterone, the emotional need to settle down was messing with his head.
For the longest time he’d enjoyed no-strings-attached sex. Men, women, he’d fucked them both, with incredibly pleasing results. Most pleasing with Max. But now his needs were changing. His wants were different. Hell yeah, he still wanted sex—plenty of it—but he wanted so much more on top of that. He had since his last time with Max.
Now Grace stood before him—with no fucking underwear—and he had to act normal.
Fuck with a capital F!
He could do this. No prob. “I’m running out of time too. About ten minutes after you leave, seven peeps are going to knock on that front door, expecting drinks, snacks and a game of poker.” One of those seven people would be Max. “Oh, yeah, and light. Because playing poker without light isn’t so easy. ’Specially the black cards. Tricky little buggers in the dark, those ones are. The eights and nines? Impossible to see, which—”
Grace’s laughter shut him up. “How about we go find those candles so neither of us is late?”
“Ah. The voice of reason. They’re in the kitchen. I have a torch there too.”
“Well then, Mr. Greenfield, why not lead the way?” She touched his arm, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, and just like that, for the nine hundred and seventh time since Grace had moved in—hell, since she’d walked into the room tonight—his mind fixated on making love to her. “You get the candles, I’ll find the torch, and we can shed some light on this…shady situation.”
“You’re just full of good ideas, aren’t you?” Trev’s face split into a grin. Damn, her hand felt fine there. Hot and right.
Okay! Best head for the kitchen before he did something they’d both regret—like kiss the woman and divest her of her pajamas.
“I’m always full of good ideas,” Grace told him without a shred of modesty.
Trev’s grin widened as they made their way across the minefields of the lounge and dining rooms. Grace was cool. One of the coolest women he’d ever—
“Shit!” He tripped. Over what he had no clue, but he went down fast, landing like a fool on one knee.
Grace was gracious enough not to laugh too loudly. Even so, her muted chuckles echoed in the dark, reverberating through his stomach.
Since she hadn’t released his arm when he fell, he gave serious thought to pulling her down with him. Hah, then they could debate which was funnier, her tumble or his. But if she landed on top of him now, there’d be no promises he wouldn’t take it a step further and accidentally touch her breast again. With his tongue.
“Nice,” he said instead, picking himself up and dusting himself off. “Laugh at the idiot who tripped in the dark. Very nice.”
Grace chuckled even louder. “How lucky did you get when you landed me as your housemate? Not only am I nice, I’m full of good ideas, plus I can see humor in the gloomiest of situations.”
Her peals of laughter sounded like sunshine and daylight and made Trev chuckle too. Oh, yeah. He got lucky all right, landing her as a housemate. Question was, how lucky would he get in the future?
It bothered Trev no end he could even consider getting lucky with Grace knowing how he felt about Max…but man, was he ever considering it.
He gave a little snort as he began to pick his way more cautiously to the kitchen. “Oh, yeah. I lucked out when I found you, all right. Although, a housemate with a bit of sensitivity and caring might have been good too. You know, someone who’d ask if I was okay after sustaining life-threatening injuries. But someone full of good ideas, who’s nice and funny is just as lucky.” For good measure, he reluctantly added, “I suppose.”
“Aw, shame.” Grace rubbed her hand sympathetically over Trev’s arm. “Did the little boy get a booboo? Need me to kiss it better?”
Trev came to a dead stop. He turned to face her before he thought better of it. “You offering to kiss it better?”
Well, damn. He’d meant that to come out as a joke. Instead his voice sounded raw and…excited.
Her laughter stilled.
The air between them was heavy all of a sudden, thick with the tension Trev had felt ever since Grace moved in. The teasing and the humor were gone.
Her face was close. Near enough he could smell her minty breath. Near enough that if he dipped his head a couple of inches he’d find her lips with his mouth—even in the dark.
“Trev…”
“You offering, Gracie?” he asked again. This time he didn’t bother to hide his intent with humor.
He’d wanted her for three weeks, and now that she’d brought up the whole kissing idea, he thought he might go mad if he didn’t get to taste those cherry-red lips.
She didn’t answer, just exhaled real slowly, her breath tickling his nose and mouth.
“Because I’m accepting if you are,” he said softly.
She loosened her grip around his arm and gradually ran her hand over his shoulder and up his neck, her palm on his bare flesh heating him from the outside in. Then she took the tiniest step closer, so her braless breasts pressed against his chest, two round pillows of splendid female flesh.
With his eyes useless in the dark, the rest of his senses worked overtime. The whisper of her soft breath and his harsher exhalations echoed in his ears. Her fresh vanilla perfume tickled his nose, while the heat of her hand continued to sear his skin. Her chest moved against his, up and down, as she inhaled deeply then let the minty air out.
Her softness took his breath away. He’d gotten so used to Max’s muscular
physique, to the hard sinew of man, he’d forgotten how a woman felt.
Grace’s abundant curves blew his mind. They made his heart skip a freaking beat.
He had to discover if her mouth tasted as sweet as it always looked. Trev dipped his face to hers, guided by the soft sounds of her breathing, and nearly jumped three meters when light flared around them and sound blared unexpectedly from the telly.
Just as startled as him, Grace stumbled back with a gasp.
He blinked against the glare of the light, taking in the sight of the woman before him. Long damp hair, a shade darker than usual, hung down her back. Her mouth was pouty, color stained her cheeks and her brown eyes were wide with arousal and shock.
Desire rippled through him. Desire and something else. Something less physical and more…sentimental.
“Oh, good. The lights are back on,” she said redundantly. He would have smiled again if lust and emotion hadn’t clasped his lips in a death grip.
God, she looked exquisite. Her nipples poked at the flimsy silk of her top, telling Trev she was just as affected as him by their almost-kiss.
“Grace,” he murmured.
“The power’s back too.” She raised her arm slowly and lifted a strand of damp hair. “I can use my hair dryer.”
She didn’t need it. Her hair looked perfect the way it was, just beginning to dry, so it fell in waves of wheaten gold down her back.
“I can put on make-up.” She looked surprised, as if the idea was both novel and astounding. “And I can get dressed.” She nodded. “Because I can see.” She looked at Trev then pointed to the light. “The power’s been restored. I can get ready now.”
“You can.” Jesus, his dick ached like the devil. “Or you can step right back here and finish what we just started.” His brain was fried, his body working on testosterone alone.
“Yeah. Okay.” She stared at him, her cheeks turning pinker. “I think I better go get dressed now.” And with that she launched herself into his arms and caught his mouth in a kiss so sinful the room spun.
