I was pissed.
I’d spent the entire day looking forward to seeing her, and then she’d just blown me off. No call, no text, nothing.
So when she’d texted that she was outside the bar at three a.m., I‘d fought the urge to tell her to take a hike.
I didn’t need to spend my entire day waiting on a phone call.
I didn’t need to hear her voice.
I didn’t need to see her face, hear her laugh, smell her hair.
At least, that was what I was telling myself.
But, it was all lies.
Even after she’d shown up and apologized, I’d continued to tell myself that I didn’t need her, that she didn’t have any effect on me. I’d tried to be cold and distant, not letting her know just how fucking pathetic I’d been tonight. But she wouldn’t stop pushing, apologizing, asking me what was wrong. And the words had flown out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Here I was, pining over a woman, worrying that something had happened to her, or worse, that she had finally decided to cut her losses and move on, like the smart woman I knew she was.
In the matter of mere weeks, I’d gone from the consummate bachelor, destined to be married to my work, to being so wrapped up in a woman that it was a wonder that I could breathe without her.
Though the funny thing was, now, with her nestled beside me in my bed telling me about the not so pleasant parts of her life, I didn’t want to breathe without her.
Not even in the slightest.
I was invested. It wasn’t even that I wanted to know more about her—I needed it. Deep inside me, I needed to see the ugly parts of her so that I could show her the ugly parts of me. The parts I tried so desperately to keep hidden. The parts that she somehow made acceptable with nothing more than a simple grin and gentle touch. I couldn’t explain it, this deep-rooted need to connect with her, but it was there all the same.
Her body is small against mine, fitting into the curve of my arm as though she’d been made to be there.
And hell…here I am staring down at her, wondering if she had been.
Her soft hand rests over my racing heart and her silky hair smells of flowers as it tickles my chin.
Maybe it was the beers I’d slammed back in a worthless fit of anger earlier, but whatever the reason, I’d spilled the beans about my dad, and then revealed to the only woman I ever wanted to keep the horrible things my piece of shit mother had said.
She should have looked at me with disgust.
She should have run.
She should have never looked back.
But Grace, being well, Grace, her beautiful face above mine, her eyes full of sadness, she stared down at me with respect and admiration blazing in her eyes.
There was no pity, and for that I was thankful. No, what I saw in her eyes was understanding, a commonality that somehow bonded us, two people from different sides of the tracks. And that thread of likeness only caused the lust to surge through my veins thicker and faster than ever before.
I study her face, asking for something that it’s probably too soon to hope for. But, through her sadness, there’s also desire.
She wants me, too.
With a nod so slight I almost don’t catch it, she gives me the permission I’m desperate for.
I slide my fingers through her hair, the silky strands creating a buzz on my skin that travels over my entire body. Her head in my hands, I bring my lips to hers, kissing her slow and deep with reverence.
Her lips are pliant against mine, her mouth opening without hesitation, inviting and almost daring my tongue to enter.
She moans, the sound igniting my body and fueling me forward. Flipping us, I cover her, relishing in the way her breasts press against my chest.
“Bronn,” she breathes into my mouth as I slide my hands up her waist, her ivory skin smooth under my rough, calloused hands. She arches her neck and I trail kisses down her throat.
Bringing my lips to her ear, I whisper, “I want you.”
She groans. “God, please.”
Kissing along her jaw, I tell her, “Fuck, but I want to be inside you.”
She writhes beneath me, rolling her hips to press her core against my cock. “Then what are you waiting for?”
My lips twitch.
This is the first time in my life that I’ve hesitated, but Grace is also the first woman in my life to mean something to me. I don’t want to fuck it up by rushing into something physical.
And yet, she wants to know what I’m waiting for.
“Any further and there’s no turning back,” I murmur, still running my lips along her throat.
She slides her hand down my body, grasping my dick in her palm. “It’s already too late to turn back,” she purrs.
Lifting my head, I catch her gaze. There’s no hesitation, only lust mixed with something deeper, something I’m not sure I’m ready for.
Pulling her shirt down, I reveal a lacy bra. Wasting no time, I begin to lick along the edge of the fabric.
“Yes,” she cries, arching her back off the bed and allowing me just enough room to unhook the clasp, freeing her small round breasts.
My mouth dries at the sight of her perfect pink nipple, and a growl emanates from my throat. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I tell her, rolling the tight nub between my fingers.
Her hand at my cock convulses deliciously as I suck her nipple deep into my mouth. Licking and swirling my tongue, I devour her. She writhes beneath me, moaning my name, causing my cock to swell impossibly harder.
It feels amazing. Too good in fact.
Releasing her nipple, I wrap my fingers around her arm and pull her hand out of my pants.
“Bronn,” she protests.
I press my mouth to hers, silencing her plea with a lingering kiss before continuing my descent down her body.
Curling my fingers into the elastic band of her pants, I pause.
“Once I pull these off, I’m not stopping,” I tell her, giving her a chance to back out.
She pushes up on an elbow, her eyes dancing with challenge. “You better not stop.”
Grinning wolfishly, I slide her pants down her legs, taking her panties with them. Tossing them to the side, I stand and begin removing my jeans as I take in the sight of her, laid out in front of me.
With lust-filled eyes, she watches me free my cock of its denim confinement.
Sinking to my knees, I spread hers wide and, as slowly as I can stand, lick my way up her thigh, stopping when I get to her core.
I’ve never been very good at self-control, my arrest record proof of that, but for her, I’m determined to take my time tonight. To feel every touch and flick of her tongue against my body and for her to feel the same.
She whimpers, circling her hips as she pleas while I continue to tease her, nipping and sucking everywhere except the one spot that she so desperately wants. Finally, when the sound of her moans morph into begging, I flatten my tongue, torturously making my way up to her clit.
She fists my hair, holding my head in place, letting me know exactly what she wants. And I have no problem giving it to her.
I continue to lick and suck her clit, her hips rolling against my mouth as her breathing becomes more ragged.
Until finally she breaks.
“Oh, God,” she cries, slapping her hands out to the sides, fisting the sheets.
I pick up the pace, working her harder and faster until her sharp cries of ecstasy drift into sated moans.
As her orgasm wanes, she relaxes on the bed, her eyes closed, a small smile on her face.
It is so fucking cute that even as my cock aches for release it makes my lips curl, mirroring hers. I’m in so much trouble with this woman.
I stand and grab a condom from the nightstand, making quick work of rolling it on.
Grabbing her behind her knees, I slide her body to the edge of the bed and position myself between her thighs. She hooks her feet behind my back, her knees at my waist, and without a moment’s hesitation I slam into her, stopping once I’m fully inside, relishing the way she feels.
Her head flies back against the pillow, her eyes aimed at the ceiling.
“Yes,” she hisses.
Palming her ass, I slide out of her slowly before driving back in.
Her body welcomes me home with every thrust.
It isn’t long before my balls begin to tingle, my own release looming.
Releasing her ass with one hand, I move my thumb over her clit, rubbing circles. Her neck arches, a cry of pleasure escaping her lips.
“You’re going to give me one more,” I rasp.
“Yesss…” she moans. “God, don’t stop.”
Her words fuel me on, and soon she’s crying out again. And then with one last thrust, I follow her with my own release.
With a groan, I crash down on top of her, careful to catch my weight on my elbows on either side of her head.
“You done with the caveman jealousy bit now?” she asks in a soft playful voice that I swear strokes the angry ache that lives inside of me.
With twitching lips, I arch an eyebrow. “Come again?”
She grins and lifts her head off the pillow long enough to brush her lips with mine. “Well, I can’t come again right now. Give me a few minutes though and maybe…”
I nip at her bottom lip. “I wasn’t fucking jealous.”
She giggles. “You so were.”
“I wasn’t fucking jealous,” I repeat louder, but I say it with a smile so it holds no heat.
“It’s okay. I’m thinking you’d look hot in a loin cloth, pounding on your chest. So, really, I don’t mind.”
Chuckling, I roll my hips into her “You done being a smart ass? I need to clean up.”
“I’m done being a smart ass,” she confirms with a glowing white smile.
After a quick kiss I push off her and head to the bathroom, making quick work of getting rid of the condom before making my way back to the bed and collapsing beside her.
She turns to face me, wrapping an arm around my waist and resting her cheek on my chest.
I’d never considered myself a cuddler after sex, but then again, I’d never met Grace Monroe before. She is quickly becoming the exception to every one of my rules.
With a satisfied smile that I couldn’t wipe from my face, I let my eyelids drop, the rocking of the boat lulling us both to sleep.