Blaire

Our visitors had left and Jake was updating Grant on the status of Bobby and Drew. I was sitting on the couch and Grant was perched on its arm, his hand never leaving mine ever since he’d slipped the ring on my finger. I was fuming on the inside, but set my outrage aside to listen to Jake.

“Bobby’s out of surgery. Two of the bullets were through and through, but one was lodged in his shoulder,” Jake explained. “Drew has a concussion due to his fall.”

“His fall?” Grant asked.

“The reason he was out for a while was because someone shot him with a tranquilizer.”

“It must be the suit guy who approached Blaire,” Tyler said. “I was able to radio Drew when the homeless guy attacked Bobby, so it must have happened soon after.”

“The hospital will be keeping them both overnight for observation,” Jake said. “Bobby will be out of commission for a while; Drew, probably until he’s clear of his concussion.”

“Make sure Bobby and Drew are covered with what they need,” Grant told his man. “Get with Heather to see where their short-term disability is at. The company will cover anything the insurance won’t.”

“On it, Mr. Thorne.”

“Anything else?”

Tyler looked at me, then returned his eyes to Grant. “We had a visit from a Miami FBI agent this morning.”

Grant tensed beside me. “Wilkes?”

“Yes,” I answered. “So you know him?”

“He was the agent on the scene in Miami. What did he want from you?”

I told him my conversation with the fed.

“Is he trying to say that Liam’s death was a cover-up?” Grant asked.

“I don’t know anymore.” I was afraid to put my hope into words.

“Blaire, don’t,” Tyler whispered, his expression one of sadness and pity.

“Anyway, I think he’s dropping the case,” I shrugged.

“I don’t want Wilkes showing up unannounced again,” Grant said. “Donovan, you still have the number for Liam’s crew?”

“Last I heard from any of them was during Watt’s funeral in Atlanta. The number’s been disconnected. I figured they were using aliases.”

Hope reawakened inside me. “Doesn’t that sound suspicious?”

“If they’ve disconnected their number, they don’t want to be found,” Jake informed me. “Don’t buy any more trouble, Blaire.”

Jake and I had come a long way since his initial disapproval of me after finding out I was the daughter of a ROC cleaner, but his last statement stung because I knew he was right. Grant had expended so many resources to keep me safe and his family was paying the price. I had to let this go.

“I’m tired,” I said, rising and trying to pull my hand out of Grant’s, but he wouldn’t let me go. This reminded me of another issue—the fact that I was engaged. I glared at my fiancé as he got up calmly.

“That’ll be all, Tyler, Donovan.” His eyes never left mine.

When our security left, we were still staring at each other. His expression was inscrutable, but I was sure mine left no doubt as to what I was feeling.

“Whatever I say in there, please go along with it?” I mimicked his exact words from earlier with as much sarcasm as I could muster. “You manipulative son of a bitch.”

“That was the right call and you know it,” Grant countered. “Even Gus had no objection to it.”

I raised a brow. “So our engagement is not real, right? It’s just for show?”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Of course, it’s fucking real.”

“I don’t recall getting asked,” I taunted, ignoring the hardening of his jaw.

“Blaire …” he warned.

Getting on tiptoes, which was really a joke since he still loomed above me, I leaned in. “And I certainly don’t recall saying yes!”

“That’s it,” he muttered. Suddenly, my world went upside down as I found myself tossed over his shoulder.

“Grant!”

“Quiet!”

Oh no, he didn’t. I wasn’t taking this Neanderthal act. I struggled, twisting and kicking. He swore, clamping both his arms over my legs to prevent injury to him and me.

“Goddammit, woman!” He flipped me on the bed, leaving me sprawled on the mattress and glowering up at him. He stared at me with a mixture of frustration and—amusement? I couldn’t tell as he reached behind him and took off his shirt, exposing the ridges of muscle that made my mouth water.

He smirked.

I glared.

“You think sex is going to fix everything?” I hissed even as my eyes hungrily took in his huge cock pressing behind his sweatpants.

“No, but I could sure pound a ‘yes’ out of you.”

“You still haven’t asked—Grant!” I yelled as he yanked my leg forward, reaching for the waistband of my leggings and stripped them off with my panties even as I was kicking him. He chuckled. Chuckled!

He went for my tunic, but I managed to land my feet on his chest and kick him off, but I didn’t get far when he hooked me around the waist and tossed me back on the mattress. He got on top of me, settling between my legs, his hardness against my needy core. I was so annoyed and so aroused at the same time. I tried to buck him off. My nails bit into his sides and he growled, manacled both my wrists with one hand and pinned them above me. It was then I saw the gleam in his eyes. They were euphoric and triumphant.

“Marry me,” he whispered.

“No!” I said.

“Marry me,” he repeated and bit my lower lip. I shook my head.

“Marry me, Angel,” he mumbled against my throat, before heading lower and releasing my wrists. I didn’t answer, but gasped as he bit my nipple through my tunic and bra before pulling away to discard the rest of my clothes. He then resumed his downward journey with his fingers, seeking the heat between my thighs, groaning when he found me wet. He looked up from just above my navel. “You want me.” He circled my entrance, reveling in my slickness before slipping his calloused fingers in and out, deliciously abrading the sensitive nerves of my inner walls. “Your pussy doesn’t lie, baby.” He continued nipping down my pelvis and I inhaled sharply when I felt the first flick of his tongue. With his face buried between my thighs and my legs over his shoulders, Grant devoured my delicate folds. His tongue lashed and dipped at my entrance and then he moved to my clit.

“Yes, there … there… oh, God,” I whimpered as my fingers clutched the sheets and my ankles squirmed on his back.

He flicked his tongue, back and forth, back and forth, building an unbearable pressure and then he sucked the sensitive nub and I exploded on a scream, my back arching at the force of my orgasm.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” Then it became too much until I couldn’t breathe. “Stop. Oh God, no more!” I yanked his hair but he only smashed his face further into my core, keeping the pressure on my clit and extending my pleasure.

I was still coming down from my high when he drove into me. My fingers clutched his shoulders as I marveled at his powerful body moving above me, muscles cording in sculpted beauty with the force of his vigorous pounding.

He lowered his head to kiss me roughly. “Marry me, baby.”

With my legs hooked under his arms, he spread me wider, giving him unfettered access to slam his cock into me, over and over.

“Grant,” I moaned as he hit a particularly sweet spot and I knew I was seconds from coming again. “Fuck me harder.”

He changed the angle of his thrusts, keeping me on the brink, not letting me come. His mouth was tight, he was sweating, and straining not to come himself. “Answer me, Angel,” he growled. “And it better be the fucking answer I want.”

“Harder,” I moaned.

His pumping was relentless but it wasn’t the rhythm I needed. I reached for my clit, but he grabbed both my hands and pinned them above me once more.

“Make me come, please …” I begged, anticipating the intensity of release only Grant could give me.

“Say it, Angel,” he mumbled, slowing down to a maddening pace.

“Yes,” I whispered in surrender.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” I barely got the last word out when his lips crashed down on me. His thumb hit my clit and I soared into climax.

My inner muscles gripped his cock and he went feral, pounding deeper, sending me higher until he joined me. He groaned into the crook of my neck as he released inside me. His thrusting slowed and gentled. Then he was kissing my jaw, my cheek, and my lips. When the tremors left us both, he caught my gaze.

“I love you, Blaire.” Grant kissed the tip of my nose.

I didn’t know why, but my eyes filled with tears and a sob caught in my throat. I laughed to hide the sudden onslaught of emotions. “You kinda did that in reverse, Thorne.”

“I know,” He grinned crookedly. “We’ve wasted so much time these past ten months.” He pulled out of me, and maneuvered us to sit against the headboard. I was naked and he was still wearing his sweatpants. How was that fair?

“I took too long to tell you how I felt,” Grant said. “You took off and then I discovered your secrets in the cabin and I didn’t know if you were the same woman I had fallen in love with. When I got you back, I knew nothing had changed and then the whole mess of the past month happened. I only fell deeper in love with you and you had put up a wall between us.” Pained eyes looked at me. “Do you know how crazy you made me?”

“I think I have an idea,” I murmured, drawing circles on his chest. “You had us engaged when we barely got back together.”

“In my mind, we were never broken up,” Grant said with arrogance. “I used that time to woo you.”

I shook my head, as a burst of laughter exploded from my lips. “You really never do things in order.”

“See, if I told you I loved you first, and if I followed the order of things, I would have to wait at least three months without sounding psycho-in-love to ask you to marry me. I wasn’t willing to wait that long.”

“Hmm … and this doesn’t make you psycho?” I teased.

“I have you where I want you,” he smirked. “Naked, on my bed, and wearing my ring.”

“Usually, feelings have to be mutual, Grant. Are you sure I love you?”

He scowled down at me. “I couldn’t love you this much without you loving me in return.”

“That’s very presumptive on your part.” I was having a hard time keeping a straight face, but his smug expression was annoying. Who wanted to be a foregone conclusion? Not me.

“You love me,” he growled, and had me sprawled on my back once again.

“I do love your cock,” I said. “And your diabolical tongue.”

“Blaire …” My name was a guttural warning.

“Oh, all right,” I smiled. “I guess I love you.”

“Guess?” His eyes sparked with amusement this time when he caught on to my teasing.

“I definitely love you, Grant Thorne.”

“I know.” The smirk was back.

Cocky bastard.