by Grace James
He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road.
“You never told me your dad was violent,” I said quietly.
He shifted gears and then glanced out of the side window before turning and driving back past his old house. This time, we didn’t slow down.
Just when I thought he wasn’t going to speak, he said, “I look a lot like my mom.”
“Yeah, I saw that.”
“I think that was part of it. Why he couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
“So he…hit you?”
“Not at first. At first he just avoided me, got wasted, stayed out for days, that type of thing. He only started using his fists when I called him on it – didn’t appreciate being told that he was a fucking loser by a kid. Especially one who looked like his dead wife.”
I bit my lip, hating the thought of the little boy in the pictures I’d just seen being so miserable…and so alone.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” he said, sharply. “I don’t want pity.”
“No pity,” I assured him. “I was actually just thinking how strong you are. After all that, you did something incredible today.”
He finally glanced my way, dubiously.
“You tried, Blake. You gave it a chance. That’s more than most people would do in the same situation.”
He took my hand in his, lacing our fingers together and raising my hand to kiss the backs of my knuckles. “Love you.”
“Love you, too, Brother Blake.”
He snorted softly. “Closest I’ll ever be to a monk.”
“Lucas is so cute, isn’t he?”
“Well, he is related to me so…was always gonna be that way.”
I let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that must be it.”
We drove in silence the rest of the way to my apartment. When we got there, I had gotten half way out of the car before I realized that Blake was making no move to get out himself.
“Are you coming in?” I asked.
“Actually, do you mind if I don’t? I just need to go blow off some steam for a while, y’know?”
I raised my eyebrows coyly. “You can’t blow off some steam with me?”
He got the suggestion, but it only pulled a small grin from him. “Later, Princess.”
I couldn’t really hide my surprise. That was the first time he had ever turned me down when I’d offered even the slightest sexual hint.
“Hey,” he said, reaching out to skim a knuckle over my cheek softly. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just need a little time to get a few things straight in my head, okay? Seeing my dad – it was harder than I thought.”
I felt a stab of shame. He was dealing with something big and here I was, making it about me.
“I’m just gonna go to the gym,” he continued. “Or play my guitar for a while, maybe put down some lyrics.”
“You need to be alone,” I realized.
“I’ll come over after,” he said pulling me in for a long, slow kiss before he eased back and gave me a cocky grin. “Be naked.”
I let out another small laugh and rolled my eyes as I got out of the car.
But as I watched him drive away, I couldn’t ignore the sinking sensation in my gut.
86
I spent the next several hours packing for the wedding the next day, talking to Hayley who called about Maid of Honor duties that she wanted to triple check I was on top of, chatting with Mel – who was already at the Jewel that night because the flights worked out cheaper or something – about how fancy the place was and whether they really needed to gold plate the soap dispensers, and fielding calls from Harvey who was going to be in charge for – that day included – three days straight, alone, for the first time since he hired me.
When I said goodbye and goodnight to Harvey for the fifth and – he assured me – final time, I fixed myself a quick dinner, changed into my pajamas, and then settled myself onto the couch to catch up with The Walking Dead.
It was late when Blake showed up at my place.
As soon as I heard the knock I removed my tank top and pajama shorts, tossing them on to the couch. I did check the peephole before I opened the door, though, just to be safe.
As soon as Blake saw me, completely naked, his eyebrows shot up. I grinned at him and he smirked back – then he was on me, fingers digging into the back of my hair as his lips landed hungrily on mine.
He kicked the door shut behind him as he backed me quickly towards the kitchen. My hands went to the belt of his jeans to keep me from stumbling.
“Are you okay?” I asked breathlessly against his mouth.
“Fine,” he replied when he broke the kiss long enough to tug his shirt up and off. Then his lips were on mine again, punishing and insistent.
I felt the hard edge of the kitchen counter against the small of my back as Blake pushed me against it – trapping me there with his body. His hands tightened their hold on my jaw as he rolled his hips against me, the steel length in his jeans grinding against my bare stomach.
“Need you,” he growled against my lips. “Now.”
I trailed my fingers down over his stone hard abs, my light touch the total opposite of the rough hold he had on me. “I’m here,” I said softly. “Have me.”
With a low groan, he grabbed my waist and spun me around. Taking my wrists in his hands, he used his body to push me forwards over the counter, so that my nipples brushed over the cool surface, then he placed my hands flat on the counter top. “Need you like this, baby.” His breath skimmed across the shell of my ear, making me tremble. “Bent over and begging me.”
Ohhh…wow…
I bit my lip against a moan. “…begging you?”
Shifting his hold so that he had both my wrists caged against the counter top with one hand, he moved his other hand between my legs, working me over, his fingers gliding through my slick heat. He took his time exploring me, like he was committing me to memory; rubbing, stroking, swirling – but never dipping inside.
I found myself chasing his fingers, gasping in frustration and delicious agony.
“Tell me what you need,” he commanded.
“You know –”
He cut off my words with a nip to my earlobe at the same instant as one digit just eased inside me, making my fingers claw against the counter. “Tell me.”
I knew what he wanted, and I wanted to give it to him. I wriggled against his hand as I murmured, “You, Blake…your cock, deep inside me.”
His rough exhale gusted against my hair. “In here?” He thrust two fingers inside me slowly and my inner muscles clenched greedily around them.
“Yes – yes –”
“Just like this?” His fingers withdrew almost all the way, before pushing back inside agonizingly slowly.
“…yes!”
Abruptly, he pulled them all the way out, withdrew them completely, leaving me empty and aching.
“Blake! What –”
He tightened his hold on my wrists as he sent a stinging slap across my ass. My mouth went slack with shock – and a violent clench rushed through my lower stomach.
“Beg, Princess,” he rasped, his hand travelling back between my legs and touching me so lightly that I wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t my wishful thinking.
Right then, I would have said anything to get some relief.
“Please,” I whimpered. “Please fuck me, Blake…”
His groan was ragged alongside the thick popping sound of his button fly being ripped open. Then I felt the damp kiss of the head of his cock against my inner thigh before he shoved inside of me.
His hand gripped my hip as he worked himself in and out, getting deeper with every thrust, until his hips were slapping against my ass with every fierce stroke.
Letting go of my wrists, he fisted a hand in my hair instead, pulling hard enough to make me feel helpless, owned completely.
He was so deep, touching every throbbing part of me, pushing me relentlessly to the brink. He must have known I was close – he kn
ew my body better than I did – because he doubled his pace and angled his thrusts just right to hit me right on my g-spot with every quick stroke.
My orgasm ripped a raw scream from my throat.
“Fuck!” he bit out, and for a second I thought he was following me into the abyss – but then he pulled out and whirled me around, grabbing my waist to lift me up onto the edge of the counter.
As soon as my ass hit the surface, he gripped my thighs, pushed them apart and shoved his cock inside me again.
“Oh – God!” I gasped, my hands flying to his bulging shoulders so that I didn’t fall back as he started to power into me.
His jaw was clenched tight, his chest and abs glistening with a fine sheen of sweat – and he was so focused, staring at my body so intently, from my breasts, to where our bodies joined, and back up again. I swear I could feel the white-hot burn of his cobalt eyes on my skin.
My second orgasm was sudden and strong; I sunk my nails into the skin of his shoulders, screaming as my head dropped back.
Before the contractions in my core had even subsided, he pulled me off of the counter, his cock still lodged inside me, and moved us to the bed. As soon as my back hit the mattress, Blake was moving his hips again, hammering his cock into me like he was trying to screw me through the bed and into the floor.
We were both sweating by then, our bodies a wet and writhing tangle. I clawed at his back, dug my fingers into the hard muscles of his powerful ass; his hands grabbed at me roughly, squeezing my breasts, clutching at my hips.
The whole thing was so intense, my orgasm – which hadn’t quite ended – started to build again, but it didn’t crest. It stopped just shy of the peak, buzzing through my whole body, crippling me…
I couldn’t take it. “Blake! I can’t – it’s too much – I can’t –”
His lips parted on clenched teeth as he ground out, “You can. You were fuckin’ made for me. Only me.”
His right hand moved down between our bodies and his thumb found my clit. As soon as it did, every sensation in my body ratcheted up.
“Oh, GOD! I’m going to – I’m –”
“Stay with me, baby –” his other hand slid under my neck to grip my nape “– look at me.”
I did.
Our eyes met and I could see the tortured strain in his from holding back. I could see love, too, all-consuming and fierce – and then the world burst apart and we went up in flames together.
He roared.
I screamed.
And then everything faded to black.
87
It could have been hours, or years, or decades later when I felt fingers stroking gently through my hair.
“Princess? Time to get up.”
I groaned, shaking my head. My whole body ached in that sort of good way that you feel after a workout.
I heard the smile in Blake’s voice when he said, “Sorry, baby, but you have to. We gotta get on the road.”
“Nooo.” I shook my head again. “It’s still dark.”
“It’s dark ‘cause your eyes are closed.”
I sighed and stretched, opening my eyes a crack. Pale morning light was filtering through the drapes, casting the room in a soft glow.
Blake was sitting next to me on the edge of the bed, fully dressed already in jeans and a Jimi Hendrix t-shirt.
“Why’re you awake?” I mumbled.
“‘Cause I’m a responsible as fuck Best Man –”
“Oh, SHIT!” I sat bolt upright in bed, horrified that I hadn’t even remembered it was Hayley and Derren’s wedding day until he’d said that. All the crazy-intense sex the night before had completely wiped me out. “Are we late?! Did I sleep in?! Oh, my God! I’m the worst Maid of Honor of all time!”
He burst out laughing. “Relax, we’re not late.”
“Really? Are you sure?!”
“Yes. I drew you a bath, which you have time to take –”
“But your tux! We have to stop by your hotel to pick that up before we even set off! And it takes over five hours to get to The Jewel, and then I have to –”
“Princess.” Blake took hold of both my shoulders. “First, I checked out of the hotel last night, so I have all my shit in my car. And second, it’s not even seven yet. The wedding isn’t ‘til four. We got time. Take the damn bath and chill the fuck out, okay?” He grinned, taking the sting out of the words. “I’ll make you coffee and breakfast while you’re in there.”
“Well, when you put it like that…” I grinned back at him “…I probably should just chill the fuck out.”
He nodded. “Goddamn right.”
Half an hour later, fresh from the bath, wrapped in a towel with my hair still wet, I hopped up on the kitchen stool next to where Blake was sitting. He’d set out two plates of bacon and eggs, plus fresh coffee as promised.
“Morning, Best Man.” I smiled, leaning over to kiss him.
“Morning, Maid of Honor. You looking forward to walking down the aisle with me later?”
“Um…I think I’m walking with Kane,” I told him with mock apprehension. “I don’t think Hayley changed the arrangements since before you came back to town – when I still wanted to murder you.”
He narrowed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around me, tickling my ribs and making me shriek. “Not happening, Princess.”
I laughed and wriggled in his arms. “I know, I know – it’d give you a seizure. I’m kidding!”
He shook his head, feigning anger, making me laugh harder. “It’s like you want me to bend you over and spank you.”
“Oh, God,” I giggled. “I can’t take any more – not after last night.”
He stopped tickling me, suddenly serious. “Hey, did I hurt you?”
“No,” I said quickly, grinning at him. “Well, I mean, not in a bad way.”
“…yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.”
He grinned back, one hand coming up to tug at my towel as he dropped a kiss to my bare shoulder. With great force of will, I put my hand over his, stopping him from pulling my towel away.
“What?” he asked, frowning.
“We don’t have time.” I paused, biting my lip. “Not the way you do it.”
For a moment, his frown remained, and then he just couldn’t hold back the self-satisfied smirk that spread across his face. “That’s ‘cause I do it right, Princess.”
I patted the top of his head. “You do.”
He snorted and pulled back, grumbling, “Eat your eggs.”
“Mmm,” I moaned, putting a forkful of the fluffy, buttery scrambled eggs into my mouth. “I love your cooking. What did I do to deserve this?”
His hand on the nape of my neck and his kiss on my temple brought my attention back to him instead of the food. “Nothing and everything, Princess,” he said quietly. “Same as always.”
88
I know everyone probably says this about their best friend, but Hayley was the most gorgeous bride I’d ever seen.
She looked like a fifties pin up. Like Marylin Monroe if she were an auburn-haired rock-chick. Her hourglass figure filled out the ivory, lace fishtail dress in a way that I knew would have Derren – and probably every other guy there – salivating. Me, Mel, Dawn, and Patricia, must have taken hundreds of pictures of her during the couple of hours we spent together, getting ready in the honeymoon suite in The Jewel.
“You should be modelling wedding dresses,” Mel said, sipping the champagne she held and simultaneously skimming through the photos she had taken on her phone.
Hayley’s grin got even wider, if that were possible.
I hadn’t seen her stop smiling since I first walked into the suite and saw her standing there in her bridal underwear being doused in body glitter. (It looked a lot more classy and subtle than it sounds.)
The make-up artist was applying the finishing touches to Hayley’s false eyelashes, while the hairstylist simultaneously spritzed the elaborate up-do with yet more hairspray, when there was a knock at the main d
oor of the suite.
“If that’s Derren DO NOT let him in!” Hayley shrieked.
“Like Derren would dare break the rules,” I laughed as I made my way past the golden couches to the door.
When I pulled it open, Blake was standing there in all his tuxed-up glory. He’d even swept his usually messy hair over to one side.
“Holy hell,” I breathed, making him smirk.
“Who is it?” Hayley called out from behind me.
“Just Blake,” I called back.
“What does he want?!”
I raised my eyebrows at Blake in question. “You heard the woman.”
“I got something for Hayley from Derren,” he told me, then his expression turned roguish. “Can I come in or is she naked?”
I rolled my eyes and pulled him through the door by the lapel of his jacket. “No, no-one’s naked.”
As I turned to walk back through the suite, his hands settled on my hips from behind and he pulled me back against him. His warm breath gusted over my ear as he said, “You look incredible, by the way.”
“Thanks. So do you.”
All of a sudden, his arms locked around my waist, and I glanced down at where his hands gripped the green silk of my form fitting bridesmaid dress. His forehead dropped against the back of my head, so that his face was buried in my hair, which had been left loose – just curled a little at the ends to match with Mel and Patricia.
For a long moment, he just held me like that, not saying anything.
“Well? What does he want?” Hayley shouted through the suite.
That broke the spell.
Blake let go of me quickly and moved past me towards the other room where Hayley was still being primped way past perfection and into the realm of goddess-like.
I followed behind him.
“Hayls, you look gorgeous,” Blake told her when he caught sight of her.
Her perpetual smile sparkled. “Thanks – is Derren okay?”
“Yeah, he’s good. He just asked me to bring you something.” He reached into the pocket of his tux jacket, pulled out a small, velvet box and handed it to her.
No one tried to be subtle about crowding around her to see what was inside.
