Dating the Rebel

by Lisa Childs

  “I don’t know, Grant,” she said, “you might just be all talk and no action.”

  He chuckled and flashed that wicked, wicked grin of his. But he pushed down his unzipped pants, taking the boxers off with them. Then he shrugged the open shirt off his broad shoulders, his chest and arms rippling as he stripped it off.

  She nearly moaned again. He was so damn fine...

  Then he reached for her, tucking his finger into the top of her lace thong and tugging her toward him. But he didn’t close his arms around her; he didn’t press her body up against his naked one. Instead he moved his finger from her panties up her body, on a straight line between her breasts to her chin. He tipped it up again, but this time he didn’t stare into her eyes. He lowered his head to hers and kissed her.

  No. Consumed her...

  His lips nibbled. His tongue stroked and tangled with hers. She clutched his head, tunneling her fingers into his soft hair, as she kissed him back just as hungrily.

  He was such a damn good kisser, so passionate. She nipped his bottom lip lightly with her teeth, and he chuckled.

  “You’re naughty,” he chided her. But his cock had jumped and pushed against her midriff, so she knew he found it exciting, as exciting as she found him.

  She stepped closer to him so that her breasts rubbed against his body. Her nipples peaked even more, and a moan slipped through her lips.

  He reached between their bodies and cupped her breasts in his hands. Then he pulled back from kissing her and stared down at what he held. His hands were enormous—unlike her breasts. But they were full and round and incredibly sensitive.

  She pushed against his palms and moaned again. He leaned over and kissed the top of one mound before protesting, “You’re too short.”

  “You’re too tall,” she countered.

  Then he lifted her, with his hands cupping her butt and hips, until her head was at the same height as his. He smacked a kiss lightly across her lips before lifting her even higher—high enough that he closed his mouth over one of her breasts and stroked the nipple with his tongue.

  She clung to him, gripping his shoulders with her hands while wishing she could touch more of him.

  His hands, cupping her butt, moved between her legs, and he stroked her through the panties already damp with her excitement for him.

  For what she anticipated was coming...

  He pushed the panties aside and dipped a finger inside her while he pushed his thumb against her throbbing clit. Then his teeth gently closed around her nipple, tugging at it as he stroked her.

  And she came, his name slipping out on a low moan of pleasure.

  “You’re easy,” he said.

  Maybe she should have been offended, but she laughed. She didn’t usually come this easily, but it had been a long time for her. Maybe she needed to use her vibrator more...

  But she would rather use him.

  “I have to taste you,” he said. And he lifted her even higher, sliding her legs over his shoulders. Then he pulled her panties aside and slid his tongue inside her. He lapped and licked and teased with his tongue and his lips until another orgasm shuddered through her.

  Limp with pleasure, she nearly fell. But he caught her, swinging her up in his arms. Then he carried her from the living room part of the suite into the bedroom. Light from the living room spilled into the room, across the big bed. Then she spilled across the bed as he flopped her onto it.

  “Don’t get sleepy,” he advised her. “We’re not done yet.”

  “Promises, promises,” she remarked. But she reached for him now, wanting to give him the pleasure he’d given her. He stood next to the bed, silently refusing to join her. And he was so tall that she had to kneel on the bed to reach him, to slide her hand up and down his cock before closing her lips around the tip of it.

  A bead of his pleasure slipped out, and she licked it away.

  He groaned. And his fingers tunneled into her hair. He held her against him as she took him deeper in her mouth, in her throat, before he pushed her back.

  “I want to be inside you,” he said. “I need to be inside you.”

  She understood that need. Even after the pleasure he’d given her, she needed more and instinctively knew she’d experience that with him.

  He pulled open the nightstand and grabbed a condom from the drawer. This hotel was truly full service. His fingers shook a little as he fumbled with the packet, so she took it from him. And she used her teeth to tear it open before rolling the condom over the length of him. He pulsed in her hand, hard and thick and tight with desire for her.

  He was powerful, but she felt powerful, too, for making him want her so...

  And he did. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and his forehead, and his entire body vibrated with tension. Then he knelt on the bed and pulled her on top of him.

  She straddled his hips, but he lifted her higher, his sheathed cock stroking her mound. She reached down and guided him inside her—where she was already so damn wet and ready for him.

  She arched as he slid inside—deeper and deeper—until he filled her. And so damn thick that his cock pushed against her clit, too.

  “You’re so tight,” he said, his voice gruff. “So damn hot.”

  Clutching at his shoulders, she rode him—bucking up and down, rocking against him. His hands gripped her hips, and he matched her rhythm just as he had on the dance floor. Fast, frantic—the beat of desire pounding inside her head, inside her body...

  Tension wound tightly inside her, pulling her nipples taut—making her clit throb. As if he knew it, as if he felt it, too, he reached between them and rubbed her clit with his thumb.

  And she came, the orgasm shuddering through her with even more intensity than the other ones he’d given her. She dug her nails into his shoulders and screamed his name.

  Then he tensed and growled as his body pulsed inside her with his release. He lifted her up and off him and laid her limp body on the mattress, and then he disappeared into an open door of the bedroom.

  And Miranda panted for the breath he’d stolen from her. He had not disappointed. Grant Snyder had entirely lived up to her teenage fantasies and then some...

  * * *

  What the hell had happened?

  Grant had spent the night—the entire night—having sex with Miranda Fox. While he’d hoped for that to happen, he had learned to never count on anything where she was concerned. She was more likely to do the opposite of what he wanted than she ever was to do what he actually wanted.

  Until now...

  Now she’d done everything he’d wanted and some things he hadn’t even realized he’d wanted.

  She was insatiable. And she’d made him insatiable. He’d never rallied as much as he had for her—the desire more intense each time.

  The first light of dawn streaked through the blinds of the bedroom, painting lines across her silky skin. She lay limply on the bed, on her stomach, her face turned toward the side. A slight smile curved her lips. She was pleased with herself.

  So was he.

  Wasn’t he supposed to ask her something now? Demand something from her?

  Something about...

  He couldn’t think of anything but her, of wanting her yet again. Damn it.

  “Damn you,” he murmured as his cock began to stir again.

  “I’m not even touching you,” she said, and the smile was in her voice, too. She was staring at him now, though, and that was all it took.

  He hardened, and the minute he did, she moved. She must have tucked the condoms under her pillow because she already had one in hand. She sheathed him in latex and then in her wet heat as she straddled him.

  She felt so damn amazing. So hot. So tight.

  Her inner muscles flexed and rippled, stroking his cock into madness again. Stroking him into madness.

  The se
x with her was so incredible that it could become addictive. The pleasure so intense and unlike any he’d felt before.

  Her every movement, every touch affected him so damn much. She leaned over and pressed her mouth to his chest, teasing one of his nipples with her tongue, just like he’d done with her moments ago.

  He cupped her breasts in his hands and stroked his thumbs over her nipples. Then he rolled them between his fingers, tugging gently at them.

  She uttered a soft cry of pleasure as she began to move faster, more frantically...

  Despite all her orgasms, she was greedy for another, too. Maybe she would become as addicted to him as he was becoming to her.

  Or maybe they’d wear each other out before the sun fully rose. He wasn’t sure. And he didn’t give a damn.

  He just had to have another orgasm, or his body was going to explode. He gripped her hips and moved her faster, harder.

  She cried out, her body shuddering as an orgasm gripped her. And she gripped him, those inner muscles squeezing him as she came.

  Heat rushed over him. He pumped harder and faster, making it last for her until his tension broke as he joined her in the mind-blowing release. Her name escaped his lips on a groan of pleasure. “Miranda...”

  He was supposed to ask her something...but he was too damn tired to remember exactly what the question—or the demand—was. And so was she as she dropped limply onto his chest. All he could do was wrap his arms around her and hold her close as he finally drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  NOT WANTING TO do the walk of shame into the office in front of her sisters, Miranda had had Grant drive her to her apartment instead. But she refused to let him come inside. She knew exactly what would happen.

  Her body already ached in places that hadn’t been touched in so damn long. With as big as he was, maybe they’d never been touched.

  He was so incredible...

  And she was so exhausted. But she had to go to work. So she had to get rid of him.

  “Goodbye, Grant,” she said—on the sidewalk outside the high-rise building where she paid entirely too much rent for just a studio apartment. But the building had a doorman who stood at the door, waiting for her to walk toward the lobby.

  She was safe here on the street bustling with people heading off to work or to sightsee. She was safe from Grant and safe from her desire for him. But still, she didn’t trust herself to kiss him and not want him again.

  So she held out her hand.

  He chuckled. “You want to shake?”

  She was already shaking inside, her body all soft and Jell-O-like from how he’d made her feel last night—this morning—and from the temptation to let him make her feel that way again.

  “I want you to leave so I can go inside and get ready for work,” she replied honestly.

  He chuckled again. “So you’re going to be like that, huh? Got what you wanted and now you can’t wait to get rid of me?”

  A smile tugged at her lips. “I have to go to work,” she repeated.

  “You’re the boss,” he said as he leaned closer to her. “You can play hooky. I sure remember you talking my sister into skipping school a lot.”

  She glared at him. “I’m the boss,” she said. “So I have to set a good example.” Coming in late after a night of debauchery was not the way to do that. But she would try to hide the dark circles under her eyes and claim that she’d had a morning meeting with a potential member.

  That wasn’t entirely a lie. Grant had claimed he wanted to join. But she had no idea what he really wanted. Last night it had been her.

  Over and over again. The man sure had some kind of stamina.

  “Speaking of your business,” he said, and he flashed his wicked grin, “did I pass the audition?”

  She sucked in a breath as pain stabbed her heart before it turned cold. So now she had her answer—that was all last night had meant to him. It had been an audition for him to sign up to date other women. The sex hadn’t been that incredible because he’d wanted her but because he’d been trying to prove to her how good a lover he was. He wasn’t really interested in her. Never had been. Would never be...

  But that was fine with her.

  That flinch of pain she felt, though, reminded her of something else—her duty to her clients so that they wouldn’t get hurt. And Grant was too much of a heartbreaker to not hurt them.

  “No, you didn’t pass,” she informed him.

  His cocky grin didn’t even slip. Instead he chuckled in arrogant amusement. “Really? That wasn’t the best date you ever had?”

  The best sex—definitely. But that wasn’t what he’d asked. So she shook her head. “Not even close.”

  He sucked in a breath, and finally that wicked grin slipped away from his lips. “How can you say that? You came—”

  She held her hand up to his mouth, stemming his words, before the doorman could overhear him. “You brought me to a loud club after I told you all I wanted was a big glass of wine. A glass of wine I never got, by the way.”

  “I had it delivered to the hotel room,” he reminded her, his lips moving against her fingers until she jerked her tingling hand away. “You could have had the entire bottle if you’d wanted it, but wine wasn’t what you wanted then.”

  She’d wanted him. Heaven help her, she still did.

  “It had gone flat by then,” she said. “And the food was soggy and cold.” She shook her head. “So, no, it wasn’t a good date at all.”

  “Miranda,” he said.

  “And now you’re arguing with me on the street,” she said. “So it’s getting even worse.”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head. After uttering a shaky sigh, he said, “You obviously just want to get rid of me now. So I’ll let you go. But we need to talk about this.”

  She shook her head now. “Nothing more to say. You had your audition. You didn’t pass.”

  He leaned down then, until his mouth was just a breath from hers. “Let me try again...” he murmured. Then he skimmed his lips across hers, nipping gently at her bottom one, pulling it apart from her top one so that he could dip his tongue inside her mouth.

  She gasped and let him deepen the kiss, but she fought hard to keep her arms at her sides, so that she wouldn’t reach for him and clutch his head to hers. Instead she stepped back until their mouths separated. “Give it up, Grant,” she advised him. “This is one game you’ve lost.”

  Because she had no doubt that was all he’d been doing—playing some game with her. And she was far too busy for games, even ones that had given her as much pleasure as he had the night before.

  Before he could stop her again, she rushed toward the door that opened for her. And as she passed the doorman, she murmured in French, “Ne le laisse pas entrer...” before passing the man a folded bill.

  He nodded. “Oui, Mademoiselle Fox.” And he closed the door behind her.

  As she’d requested, he wouldn’t let Grant into the building. But it was already too late.

  She’d already let the man inside her; she’d let him get to her in a way nobody had in years, if ever...

  She couldn’t let that happen again.

  * * *

  Grant strolled into the office with a nonchalance he did not feel. This was his office—off the hangar at the airport in London. And it was already late afternoon, so hopefully his sister had left for the day.

  Had Miranda called Blair?

  She must have; they talked all the time. They told each other everything. She must have told Blair that she’d slept with her brother.

  His hope that she was already gone was dashed when he heard her voice. But Blair paid him no attention, her focus on the cell phone clutched in her hand. But it wasn’t Miranda to whom she was talking.

  “I can’t wait to see you, too,” she nearly cooed in
to the phone. “I miss you so much, Teo.”

  He groaned. “How? You two are barely apart.” But he knew now, after last night. The minute he’d left Miranda in Monaco, he’d started missing her. No. He’d started missing her before that, when she shut him down outside her apartment building.

  Why had she shut him down?

  Was the night before all she’d wanted from him? All that hot sex?

  Because it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more.

  “Oh, that’s just Grant being grumpy,” Blair said into the phone.

  “Grumpy,” he murmured; his voice so gruff that it sounded like a growl even to him. Yeah, he was grumpy. He was frustrated...with her damn friend.

  Blair finally glanced up from her call to look at him and ask, “What? Did you lose a game?”

  Suspicious, he narrowed his eyes and studied her face. What did she know? Had Miranda called her and bragged that she’d beaten him at his own game? He’d been playing a game with Miranda, trying to manipulate her into doing what he’d wanted. But he’d been so consumed with passion for her that he had completely forgotten about his mission. For Blair...

  “If you did lose, Teo wants a rematch,” Blair continued.

  He glared at her.

  And she giggled. Until Teo, it had been years since he’d heard his sister sound so happy and carefree.

  Blair seemed to forget him again as she refocused on her call and her caller. “I saw the interview you did,” she said. “You didn’t have to mention me at all.” Her face flushed, and her eyes sparkled at whatever her Italian billionaire said in the ear she had pressed against the cell phone. “I love you, too.”

  Grant groaned again—not over his sister’s happiness but over his failure to make sure it was protected, that she was protected. He’d been such an idiot.

  Blair giggled again and said, “Teo wants to know if you’re jealous.”

  “Of what?” Grant asked. “Of your sickening display of emotion?”

  “I can’t say that to my brother!” Blair exclaimed into the cell. Then she held it away from her ear and clicked the speaker button.