Breaking All Her Rules

by Maisey Yates

  Which was not what he wanted to be thinking about right now. He wanted to be thinking about Grace. About her soft skin. Her glossy hair. The way it felt to slide deep inside her body.

  Yeah, that was better than pâté.

  He knocked on the door with the correct number/letter combination, then heard locks jiggling before it opened to reveal Grace, hastily tucking her hair into a bun.

  “Are you primping?”

  Her eyes rounded. “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.”

  “I’m going to take it down, you know.”

  She leaned into the door, her posture a poor attempt at casual. “Yeah but...I don’t ever wear it down so...so it seemed like I should pin it up.”

  She was wearing a purple dress that formed to her slight curves, a black ribbon tied around her slender waist. She had stockings on. He had some serious opinions on which kind they should be.

  “No need to dress for me, darlin’,” he said. “But I do appreciate it.”

  “You are...in a suit,” she said, looking him over slowly.

  He looked down. “Oh. Yeah. I was at a thing.”

  “You said you weren’t busy.”

  “I wasn’t. I was bored.”

  “You were bored.”

  “Industry stuff.”

  “So you left an important industry event to come here and witness the lowest low my personal restraint has ever experienced?” she asked, arching a brow.

  “Are you going to invite me in or do I have to stay in this incredibly narrow hallway all night. Because I have to admit, that’s not exactly what I thought you called me over here for.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She moved away from the door and waved her arm, as if ushering him in. “I actually just needed my garbage disposal fixed, and my super was busy. So-o...”

  “If that’s a euphemism for your lady parts, it needs work.”

  She clapped her hands and laughed, bending at the waist, then dropping her head forward and shaking it. “You’re ridiculous. We’re ridiculous. All of this is ridiculous.”

  She straightened, running her fingers under her eyes and blinking rapidly. “I wasn’t supposed to call you.”

  “I shouldn’t have answered.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around the apartment. It was different than the rest of the building. Fresh, bright white paint on the walls, with matching, immaculate rugs over dark walnut floors. There were floral arrangements all over the damn place. And framed, matted paintings of flowers. Somehow it all managed not to look frilly. Just a little simple beauty in an otherwise clean space.

  “I’m glad you did. Because I would have felt like a leper.”

  He walked toward her, his stomach tightening with each step. Then he put his hand on her cheek, curled his fingers around the back of her neck. “You’re certainly not a leper.”

  “That is...not a great romantic compliment.”

  He frowned. “It’s really not. I’m out of practice. Let me try again?”

  She licked her lips and nodded.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. You’re beautiful.”

  That earned him a blush. “Thank you.”

  “And you smell nice.”

  “Also good.”

  “And I think I’ve been hard since you left the other day.”

  Her lips folded in and her smile widened, like she was trying to hold something back. “One too far,” she said.

  “I sensed it might have been. But then I went with it.”

  “Your instincts are broken, don’t trust them.”

  “Now that is the damn truth.” He leaned in and kissed her then, because he knew that it would be better than anything he could say next.

  Because she was right, he didn’t know what to say. He sucked at this. But he remembered how to kiss. At least, he seemed to remember how to kiss when she was in kissing range. And more to the point: he wanted to kiss her.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, arching into him. The way she responded...it made him feel more alive than he’d felt in longer than he could remember. Everything, even sex, had been just going through the motions after his daughter died.

  And there was a point where he just hadn’t bothered.

  But this was new. It was like fresh grass. All bright and new. The same as what had come before, but entirely different somehow, too.

  All terrible metaphors aside, Grace was the first thing he’d felt with his whole body in way too long.

  He wrenched his mouth away from hers and tugged down the zipper on her dress, revealing a black lace bra and matching panties. And the stockings were indeed the kinds with lacy tops, held up onto her slender thighs as if by some blessed sexual magic.

  He loved those. And he’d forgotten how much until this moment. Simple pleasures that he hadn’t even let himself think of in far too long. Blue skies, birds chirping and stay-up stockings on a woman in a thong.

  Life was beautiful. Right now. With Grace’s bare skin beneath his hands and her name on his lips.

  He kissed the curve of her neck, ran his tongue along the line of her collarbone. She tasted so good. So damn good. And he needed her now.

  “So why did you call me?” he asked. He probably shouldn’t be asking.

  “Like I said. One-night stands seem cheap...sordid.” She shifted. “Okay, it didn’t seem cheap and sordid. I guess that’s the thing. I expected it to. But it didn’t. And in the end, I just wanted you again. And...I’m so obsessed with not making mistakes. I’m sure I’m making one right now, but I’m enjoying it. So...so why not?”

  The question hung between them, unanswered.

  “Tell me you have condoms,” he said, “because I wasn’t expecting this.”

  “Oh! Right.” Grace jumped away from him and walked to counter. And he watched her butt the whole way. She was still wearing heels. A fantasy that he just didn’t deserve. Because he had nothing to give her other than this.

  So give it to her good.

  Well, that was a solution that appeased his libido anyway.

  Grace started rifling through the little plastic bag on the counter, pulling out a candle, a package of mints, a bottle of hand soap and, finally, condoms.

  “Did a little shopping before you called?”

  “The condoms started this whole thing. I was not going to call you. I wasn’t even tempted. Mostly. I mean, I was, but I sitll wasn’t going to. But then I was walking down the aisle for things...nonsexual things. And I saw...well, they’re ribbed,” she said, her eyebrows arching. “I’ve never, never tried that before.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes. And then I...sort of thought of the fact that there are a lot of things I haven’t tried and maybe I needed more than just once with you.”

  His gut tightened as he watched her tear into the box. She rummaged inside and produced a strip of condom packets, tearing one off. She looked at him, expectation gleaming in her dark eyes.

  “So there are these,” she said.

  “And?” he asked.

  “Go ahead and...take it out.”

  “Take it out?”

  “Your...your...take off your clothes,” she said.

  “What is it you want to see, baby?” he asked, suddenly desperate to hear something raw from those pretty, polished lips.

  “I...”

  He wrapped his hands around himself, squeezed his erection through his pants. “What?”

  She looked down, red staining her cheeks.

  “Say it,” he said, “or you don’t get it. And I know you want it.”

  She looked up again, her eyes meeting his. “Your cock,” she said, drawing in a sharp breath immediately after.

&
nbsp; “I like hearing you talk dirty,” he said. “And because you did what I asked....” He worked at the belt on his pants, hoping she didn’t notice the trembling in his fingers.

  Hard to play it cold and commanding when he wanted her so bad it was a physical ache.

  He tugged himself free, shoving his pants halfway down his hips. She licked her lips, like she’d done earlier. A nervous tic, maybe. But it sent a shot of pure heat all the way down his spine.

  He reached out and took the packet from her hand. “We don’t need this just yet,” he said. He pushed his pants down the rest of the way, then looked for a place to leave the condom.

  There was a little table by the entry door. Polished wood with spindly legs and small, balled feet at the ends of them. He put the condom there, right next to the white vase that was sitting next to it. Right on a doily.

  “Why don’t we need it yet?” she asked, standing there, looking confused and sexier than anyone had a right to.

  “Because. Things moved a little bit fast last time and I didn’t get to do something. I regret it.”

  “What?”

  He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her, pushing his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, cupping her butt. Squeezing her. Then he kissed her throat, the valley between her breasts. And as he moved lower, he brought her panties down with him, until they were around her ankles, and he was kneeling in front of her.

  He braced his hands on her hips and tugged her forward, pressing his mouth to the tender skin just above the dark hair at the apex of her thighs.

  She shivered and he tightened his hold on her, kissing her again, this time just beneath her hip bone, before moving back.

  “This is what I want,” he said, sliding his tongue between her slick folds, over her clit, then deep inside her body.

  He groaned, moving his hands so that he was holding her ass. It had been too long. Too long since he’d indulged himself this way. Since he’d tasted a woman. Given her pleasure while he took his own.

  And even that was simplifying it too much. Because in the moment, how long it had been since he’d been with someone else didn’t matter. He could have done this to another woman yesterday and it wouldn’t have made Grace—her scent, her flavor—any less intoxicating.

  She forked her hands through his hair, tugging, the sharp pain sending another throb of arousal through his body.

  “Zack.” She said his name like a prayer. Or a curse. He wasn’t sure which. And it didn’t really matter.

  He increased his efforts, licking her, sucking her, and she tugged harder on his hair. He moved his hand, pushing his fingers between her thighs, pushing one deep inside her body.

  A sharp, shocked sound escaped her lips. He lifted his head. “Should I stop?”

  “No!”

  He chuckled and lowered his head, tasting her long and deep, and she shivered beneath his tongue. So perfect. So intense. Her response was enough to make him come then and there. But not yet. No, not yet. He needed to be inside her.

  “I could do this all day,” he said, sliding the flat of his tongue over her sensitized flesh and blowing lightly on her damp skin.

  “I would...die,” she said, breathless, her legs starting to wobble.

  He braced her, held her up, kissing her deeper, working his tongue inside of her until she cried out, her hands moving to his shoulders, nails digging deep into his skin.

  “Can’t have that,” he said, as out-of-breath as she was. And he hadn’t even gotten his. “You’re too damn pretty.”

  “Is that the only reason I’m of...any use to you?” she asked, still panting.

  “Hell no.” He stood up, keeping his hold tight on her, lifting her off the ground. Then he saw the condom on the table. “I need you for all kinds of things.”

  He moved her to the table. “Put your hands on the doily, darlin’.”

  She obeyed, but shot him a look. “You need me for sex,” she said.

  “Same reason you need me,” he said, positioning himself behind her, reaching for the condom. “What else would need some big, rough cowboy for? Certainly not for work events. You just need to use me. For your own personal satisfaction.”

  “That’s true,” she said. “I’m using you, too.”

  “We’re using each other. And that doesn’t have to be cheap or dirty. It’s pretty damn hot really.” He rolled the condom onto his length and guided himself to the wet entrance to her body, testing her slowly. “Bend over just a little more,” he said.

  She obeyed, and he pushed in deeper. He swore. “You’re so tight.”

  “You’re just big,” she said, her voice shaky.

  Her put his hand on her hip, then slid his palm over her stomach and down between her legs, running his fingers through her folds. “Okay?”

  “So...good. I didn’t even know...I didn’t...” He thrust his hips forward and she moaned in response. “I didn’t know it could be so good.”

  Then he couldn’t say anything else. All he could do was give in to the desire roaring through his body. All he could do was chase his release, each thrust bringing him closer.

  “Harder,” she said, the word a near-growl.

  “Like this?” he asked, pulling her back against him as he pounded into her.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes. Don’t be careful. Just...you don’t need to be careful.”

  So he wasn’t. He stroked her in time with his thrusts, until he couldn’t hold on anymore. That he’d had this much control was a damn miracle. And it was all gone now.

  He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, bracing himself for the release that was about to hit. But there was no preparing for it.

  She let out a hoarse cry, her internal muscles tightening around him, and that was the end of his restraint. He swore, holding onto her so tightly he thought he might leave a bruise. She moaned again, shifting her hands on the table, dragging the doily—and vase—to the side, and tipping it and its contents onto the floor.

  “I hope that wasn’t expensive,” he said, eyeing the shards of porcelain on the floor.

  She laughed, the sound unsteady. She moved away from him. “Careful, don’t have shoes on.” She still did. She still had the shoes, her stockings and her bra. “I’ll get a broom. Stay back.”

  She ran a hand over her flushed cheeks and walked back into the kitchen area and he couldn’t help but watch her butt.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said. “Bathroom?”

  “That way.”

  She gestured to the hall at the other end of the living room. He found his way and disposed of the condom, returning just in time to see her sweeping up the last of the vase.

  “It was my Nai-Nai’s. Poor Grandma, she loved this vase.”

  All the blood drained out of his face. “Grace...”

  “I’m kidding!” she said. “Sorry, bad joke. And my grandmother is alive, in one of those really nice assisted-living places. The vase was from Target.”

  Grace felt like she’d made a huge misstep with Zack just now. Which was great since she was still knocked loopy from having sex in her entryway. Like that. She’d never done it like that before. It was intense. And amazing. And then she’d ruined it with a dead-grandma joke.

  “I’m sorry, Zack. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  He shook his head. “No. It’s not...it was a joke.”

  He still looked stunned. And a little pale. “You don’t look okay.”

  “I understand how much things can mean to you after you lose someone,” he said. “If I would have broken your grandmother’s vase because I was an impatient jerk who bent you over what is...a damn nice but delicate-looking table, I would have felt like a giant moron.”

  “It’s fine. I’ve never had anything like this. Where...where it seemed ea
sier to do it like that because walking to the bedroom is too hard. I’m...enjoying it.”

  “I’m glad you find me enjoyable.”

  “Specifically I find your...male member enjoyable.”

  “Oh, back on such formal terms,” he said, shaking his head. “You were on a more familiar basis with my...member.”

  Her face heated. “Well, that was...I was in the moment. Have you eaten?”

  “I nibbled on some cold shellfish. And yeah, nibble is all I got for that. Tiny, slippery cold...I haven’t eaten.”

  “Would you like to stay? And build up your strength so that you can do—” she waved her hand “—all that to me again?”

  She couldn’t believe she was inviting him to stay, but honestly...she’d been consumed with not putting a toe out of line for years. For always. Since high school, and college, and then onto her job, where she’d kept her head down and just tried to be...what she thought she was supposed to be. Which was a lot of hard work. And she’d had relationships, but they’d just been a nice addendum to her work life. Like whipped cream on your latte. Sure, it was good, but without it you still had a latte.

  Losing David had been like losing whipped cream. Except by then she’d been kind of tired of him. And she was never tired of whipped cream, so maybe that was a bad example.

  Not tired of him in an active way. It’s just...when he’d said it was time to end it, it had seemed right to her, too. That wasn’t normal.

  Maybe she was dysfunctional. Possibly a cyborg. She’d long suspected. She’d even been accused of it a time or two.

  But hard work and doing right were important. Those values had been instilled in her early, and success in those things didn’t come by accident. She’d wanted to show her parents that they didn’t have to worry about her. That she was going to do things...perfect. That meant good grades, that meant while she was getting established very few things could take a higher priority than her job.

  Right now, though, her job was causing her stress. And orgasms were...a form of stress release.

  “How long are you here?” she asked.

  “Two weeks,” he said. “I have the exhibition and before that about a million meetings and cocktail get-together thingies.”