But right now, he didn’t have the patience to wait until they were back at his place. He needed her now. Right here.
He traced his fingernail against her slit, and she quivered hard against him. “So responsive. You’re protesting, but your body certainly appreciates that we’re out in the open. I think you may have a bit of an exhibitionist streak in you, Ms. Beaumonde.”
She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip, but no additional protest came.
“I love that you’re so damn dirty,” he said, sliding his hands along the backs of her thighs. “You could give me a run for my money.”
“You’re just a bad influence.”
He gave her an unapologetic smile. “Sit up, sweet Charlotte, lift your skirt, and straddle me. Your only instruction is to not make a sound when you come for me. You understand?”
Even in the moonlight he could see her pupils go wide with desire, the risk of discovery clearly making her anxious but feeding her need for playing at the edge at the same time. “Grant, I don’t know…”
But even as she made her lackluster objection, she was lifting off him, following his directive whether she knew it or not.
“You know how to make me stop, darlin’,” he said, slowly bunching her dress up her thighs. “Say the word, and I’ll take you back to the party.”
Her breathing became more shallow with each inch of exposure. “What if I can’t be quiet?”
“You will.” He unfastened his pants and dragged his zipper down, releasing his erection. “Make a sound and I’ll turn you over my knee and redden that pretty ass right here. I’ll make sure you won’t be able to sit when we get back to the party.”
Her eyes went round, and her little hum of fear went straight to his cock, nourishing that dark desire inside him. He loved pushing her boundaries, making such a strong, put-together woman quiver.
“Spread your knees and pull those panties to the side before I rip them off of you.”
She widened her legs, straddling him fully. The sight of her polished fingernails pulling aside the lace and revealing the pink, swollen lips of her sex was enough to have him let loose his own groan. “You have the sexiest fucking cunt I’ve ever seen. It’s taking everything I have not to put you on your back and lick and nibble every tender bit of it.”
Her cheeks darkened in the moonlight, but her eyes were pure want.
“I love that your whole body goes hot when I get crass,” he said, brushing a finger over her cheekbone. “Hold your dress up with your other hand. I want to watch you take me inside you. Slow.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, the soft words mixing with the sound of the breeze rustling the trees.
He propped himself on his elbow and took his cock in his hand, positioning himself at her entrance. Damn, he was glad he’d decided to forgo condoms with her. Being bare inside Charli was the most decadent treat he could imagine. Her slick heat enveloped the sensitive head and sent a shock of pleasure marching up his spine. “Ah, baby, yes. You feel so good.”
She lowered herself at a tortuous pace—teasing him but also teasing herself. He could feel her inner muscles clenching around him, trying to draw him deeper. He was glad he was the one lying down. His knees would’ve given out otherwise.
“That’s right, take me in slow and easy.” The visual alone was enough to have his balls tightening. The sensual slide of her taking each inch of him, the slight tremor in her thighs as she fought to hold herself still, the quick rise and fall of her belly as her breath hitched with each new sensation.
“I could come just looking at you like this.” He reached out and stroked a thumb over her clit. She arched, her nipples going prominent against the material of the dress, but she managed to stay silent. “Ride me, Charlotte. Pull my orgasm from me. You can come when I do.”
She sank down, burying him deep inside her heat, and he had to bite his own tongue not to moan. But the rapt expression on her face was worth it. She was no longer worrying that she was fucking him where someone could discover them. All she was focused on was the pleasure of it, her need for release, and her desire to please him. She’d gone into subspace without any restraints or pain play. She was all his right now. And he fucking loved it.
She raised herself and plunged back down, slowly at first and then faster, until she was riding him with a rhythm that had his own mind going fuzzy. The sound of skin meeting skin filtered through the night, and the intoxicating scent of sex enveloped them, mixing with the smell of the freshly cut grass. Grant’s free hand curled into the sod as every nerve in his body seemed to vibrate.
Rarely did he give a woman free rein like this. He was so used to controlling the speed and execution of every little aspect of sex. But Charli was sending him down a track with no brakes, and all he wanted to do was enjoy the ride. No soft, romantic lovemaking for his girl. She wanted it hard and fast tonight, and he was happy to oblige her. He worked his fingers against her folds, teasing and pinching, then stroked her clit until he could feel she was on the brink.
“Grant,” she whispered, the begging so gentle but the clench of her sex like a sweetly tortuous vise grip.
“I’m right there with you, darlin’. Go for it.”
She fell forward, bracing her hands against his chest, and canted her hips even faster, fucking him with a desperation that turned his blood into rocket fuel. Her sharp pants hit his cheeks, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her face—parted lips, closed eyes, the gorgeous glow of exertion. He loved how she let the passion engulf her.
He pressed his fingers along the sides of her clit, and her body tightened around him, her thighs squeezing his hips and her pussy contracting around his cock.
Liquid bliss shot through his veins and straight downward, his release hurtling forward. “Fuck, baby.”
“Oh, God.” Her head tipped back.
Orgasm crashed over both of them, pulling them under and drowning them. He grabbed her hips, driving deep, and stifling a moan as his release pulsed inside her. Her nails dug into his shirt, but the only sounds that escaped her were these little sharp catches in the back of her throat. It was the sexiest damn sound he’d ever heard.
When both their sounds of restraint had quieted, she finally opened her eyes and melted against him, pressing her cheek to her shoulder. “That was way more fun than an awards presentation.”
“You got that right.” He chuckled and kissed the top of her head, then froze. Was that the murmur of voices? The crunch of leaves? “Get up, freckles.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, immediately raising herself up and off of him.
He hurriedly tucked himself back into his pants and pulled up his zipper. “I think I hear someone.”
Panic lit her features. “Shit.”
She scrambled to her feet, straightening her dress and checking to make sure she was covered. But there was no way she’d be able to hide that flushed, post-orgasm glow. He stood and dusted the grass off his backside. “Just take a deep breath. Someone’s coming, but I doubt anyone saw us.”
Soon, two men walked out from the bank of trees a few yards away and headed toward the edge of the pond. They were deep in conversation and didn’t seem to even notice they weren’t alone. Grant grabbed Charli’s hand. “Come on. Let’s pretend like we got lost and make our way back to the party.”
She nodded and clasped his hand, but before they took a handful of steps, one of the men glanced over and saw them. The conversation halted.
“This part of the grounds is not open to guests,” the man called.
Grant raised a palm. “No problem. We got a little off course. We’re heading back now.”
The white-haired man headed their way, and his companion turned and followed. As the two men approached, Charli went stiff next to Grant. She pulled her hand from his. “Crap. What the hell is he doing here?”
Grant was about to ask her what she meant, but then the elderly man’s wide-shouldered friend squinted at Charli. “Beaumonde?”
Charli sighed. “Hi, Trey.”
Trey. Grant searched his brain, trying to remember if Charli had ever mentioned that name.
The guy looked Charli up and down with evaluating eyes. “Wow, I barely recognized you all dressed up. What are you doing here?”
Grant gritted his teeth, the guy’s tone and perusal of Charli pushing Grant’s mine buttons.
Charli shifted from one boot to the other, then looked over to Grant as if deciding whether to come up with a story or tell the truth. “I’m on a date. This is Grant Waters. Grant, this is Trey Winger, my boss.”
Her boss. And ex-lover. The guy who told her she wasn’t good enough for an on-air position. Grant stuck out his hand and shook Trey’s maybe a bit too firmly. Trey looked between Grant and Charli, openly curious.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Charli said.
Trey shrugged and put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Mr. Brinkley invited me. He sits on the station’s board of directors and owns this property.”
More introductions were exchanged, and Grant could sense Charli’s professional image rising like the tide. Her posture turned straighter, her voice firmer, despite the fact that her heart had to be hammering in her chest. Hell, his own knees were still a little weak from their interlude. Seeing Charli flip that switch so easily gave him a ridiculous sense of pride. His girl had her shit together.
His girl. Damn, he needed to tame those thoughts.
He grabbed her hand again anyway, ignoring the satisfaction he felt when she grabbed back.
Mine, his mind whispered.
TWENTY-FIVE
“So do you think your boss saw anything?” Grant asked as he turned the truck into Charli’s neighborhood.
She shrugged, thinking back to the way Trey had looked at her when he’d realized who she was. That wow reaction had been more than a little satisfying, had made every wax and pluck of her makeover worth it. Nothing like a great how-ya-like-me-now moment. “I really don’t think so. Trey’s not smooth enough to cover up his reactions that well. He wouldn’t have said anything, but he would’ve shown some sign.”
“I thought when you two went off on your own for a few minutes that he was going to confess to having seen us.”
“Nah, I just wanted to tell him about my big break in the story,” she said, looking out the window at her sleepy neighborhood. “He was really excited. Offered to go with me in the morning.”
“Is that right?” Grant said, his sarcasm evident.
She looked over at him, frowning. “It’s going to be a huge story. Of course, he’d be interested in going.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What?”
Grant’s gaze slid toward her, then back to the road. “You should know that boss of yours is still interested in you.”
She snorted. “Oh, please. First of all, this is the guy who told me I wasn’t pretty enough for TV. Second of all, I’ve been down that road with him and have no interest in going back. He knows that.”
Plus, how could she go back to someone like Trey after experiencing what she had with Grant? It’d be like going back to canned ham after you’ve had Kobe beef.
“Freckles, I’ve spent a lot of time in my life observing people’s behavior. And the way Trey acted with you tonight was like a dog on the hunt. His attention never left you when you moved around the party. And the guy looked at me with challenge in his eyes.” Grant smirked at her. “Which proves he’s not only interested in you but apparently has a death wish.”
She laughed. “Ooh, jealousy. Looks kind of pretty on you, cowboy.”
He sniffed.
“For the record, I told him he didn’t need to come along. I don’t want him spooking my source.”