Grace let go of the couch, reached for him, and slid her fingers into his hair as she flicked her tongue against his. His hips picked up speed. He fucked her with long, deep, frantic strokes, meeting every rock of her hips with his own. Electricity gathered inside her, was on the crest of breaking, was—
He drew back from her mouth, pulled free of her body. Grace gasped. But before she could protest, his hands landed against her hips, and he was twisting her. “Flip over. Knees up on the couch.”
She moved as fast as she could, her heart racing, her body trembling. Fabric rustled, and something hit the floor. Then she felt his bare knees between both of hers, nudging her legs wider. “Open. And arch for me.”
Grace lowered her chest to the back of the couch, the movement forcing her ass out and up. One of Brian’s big hands landed against her hip, the other brushed her inner thigh. And then he filled her again in one sharp thrust that dragged a groan from her chest.
“Fuck. You feel so damn good. So much better than you should.”
Grace didn’t know what he meant, but she didn’t care. She was lost. Her fingers curled around the back of the cushion, holding on while he fucked her hard and deep. So much deeper than before. One of his hands closed around her breast; the other slid down her stomach, between her thighs, and flicked her clit in time with his thrusts. Electricity arced all through her body once more.
“Brian…” She tried to reach back for him, couldn’t get her hands to grab on.
“Yes,” he whispered, leaning over her, thrusting deep again and again. “You can come now. Come with me, Gracie. I want to hear you let go.”
That was it. All that she could take. Her orgasm exploded in a burst of heat and light she felt everywhere. She wasn’t sure if she screamed, but she felt his whole body stiffen, felt him drive home again and again, then heard his cry of release when his own orgasm hit.
Her arms collapsed beneath her. Her cheek landed against the back couch cushion. Dragging air into her tight lungs, she blinked several times, trying to figure out how the hell she’d gotten so lucky tonight.
“Are you alive?” he said behind her, his warm breath rushing over the sensitive skin of her neck to make her tremble, his body plastered to hers.
“Barely.” He was still inside her, still hard and hot and so very thick. She couldn’t stop herself from tightening around him. “God, that was good.”
He chuckled against her, and she felt the vibration all the way to her toes. “Wait here.” Carefully, he pressed his lips to her nape, then disengaged himself from her body and moved away. “I’ll be right back.”
Cool air washed over her spine. Blessed, much needed cool air. While he disappeared into her bedroom, she flopped back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, just trying to regulate her pulse.
That hadn’t just been good, it had been…amazing. And even though she should be embarrassed and wondering what he thought of her now that it was over, all she could think about was how much she wanted that again.
Water ran in the bathroom, and she waited for him to come back, but he didn’t. Long minutes passed in silence. Her stomach tightened with a host of nerves.
Pushing up, she looked around, spotted his black button-down hanging off the lamp, and reached for it. He’d said she’d regret this, but she didn’t. Not a bit. And if he did, well, she planned to change his mind. At least for tonight.
Because she wasn’t ready to let Mr. Hottie go. Not yet.
* * *
Stupid. So fucking stupid…
What the hell were you thinking?
Bracing his hands against the granite counter in the bathroom, Brian lifted his head and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was mussed thanks to Grace’s wild hands, his mouth still swollen from her demanding kisses, and his body…. Yeah, his skin still tingled and his dick was already semi-hard again just thinking about her lying naked out there on the couch, limp and sated from multiple climaxes.
He obviously hadn’t been thinking. Not with his big head, at least. If he had, he never would have touched her.
Goddamn… He raked a hand through his hair. He was so screwed, it wasn’t even funny. As soon as Ryder found out about this, his ass was fucking fired. Once again, he’d managed to take a good thing and shoot it all to hell.
A soft knock sounded at the door. “Brian?” Just the sound of her sexy voice shot a wicked thrill all through his body, and damn, but he loved the way she said his name—all soft and needy and…hot. “Did you fall in in there?”
Shit. His eyes slid closed.
He couldn’t hide from her. What he needed to do was open the door and tell her who he really was. But if he did that, he’d be digging his own grave.
As his mind spun with the negatives, a tiny voice screamed if he left now—before she figured out who he was—and he didn’t see her again, maybe he could skate free of this before everything turned to shit. Ryder had said he and his sister weren’t particularly close. She didn’t know Brian’s last name or even that Jake had sent him, and she’d lied to him about who she really was, proving she didn’t want anyone to know what she was up to. He hadn’t picked up a single threat in the two days he’d been following her, and he could come up with some bullshit excuse to Ryder why he needed to send someone else to look out for her during the rest of her trip. If he got gone now, there was a good chance she’d never even mention this crazy night to her overbearing older brother.
His pulse raced. His hands grew sweaty. It was a cowardly thing to do, but right now it was the only option he had. Decision made, he pulled the door open, then went still as stone as soon as he saw her wearing his black shirt, contrasting sharply with her pale, perfect skin, the buttons open enough so he could see the mounds of her small, heavenly breasts—the ones he’d had in his mouth only minutes ago—and the hem grazing her creamy, toned thighs. Thighs that had wrapped around him, drawn him in, and shut down every functioning brain cell until want was all he knew.
Her gaze searched his. “Are you okay?”
Okay? Was he okay? No, wasn’t fucking okay, because he desperately didn’t want to leave.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. Told himself to hold it together. “I’m fine. You’re, ah, wearing my shirt.”
A mischievous smile curled her lips. “I know.” She laced her hands behind her back and moved toward the big bed in the middle of the room, all but skipping. And goddamn, that shouldn’t be sexy either, but it was. “If you want it back, you’re going to have to come take it from me.”
She knelt up on the bed, leaned back in the pillows, and sat cross-legged, her dark hair falling around her face in a sexy little tousle. She had a youthful vivaciousness he hadn’t experienced with anyone else, and it made him feel alive in a way he’d been missing the last few years. His body ached to be near her, his fingers itched to touch her, to slide across her long, slender legs folded beneath her, then up to the tails of his shirt just barely covering her sweet, steamy center.
Mother of God…
He swallowed hard and only just caught himself from calling her Grace. “Samara…”
She crooked her index finger at him. “You don’t want to leave yet, Brian. Not when things are about to get fun.” Heat flooded his system. That adorable little dimple flashed. “Come here before I’m forced to come get you.”
Forget want. He needed. His feet moved on their own, and his hands landed on the mattress before he could stop them. “You’re gonna be trouble for me, you know that?”
He loved the girlish giggle that slipped from her lips and the stark desire in her eyes when he crawled over her. “I like the thought of getting into all kinds of trouble with you.”
Her hands captured his face, and she dragged his lips to hers in a blistering kiss that supercharged every part of his body.
He liked that thought as well. Way too much.
Sinking into her kiss, he told himself he’d leave in the morning. But tonight, she was his.
CHAPTER FOUR
Grace couldn’t sleep. She’d been trying to doze for the last three hours, but every time Brian’s warm breath tickled her skin or he did that soft snoring thing like he was doing now, her body seemed to shoot right back to spontaneous combustion.
She should be relaxed. She should be sated. And she was—for the most part—but his head resting against her chest and his naked body intertwined with hers under the covers kept making her hot. And thinking about the way he’d moved, the things he’d done with his mouth and fingers and tongue… There was no way she was falling asleep tonight when all that was replaying in her head.
Glancing down at him, she ran her fingers through his silky hair for the thousandth time and sighed. Her hands slid down his neck to his right shoulder and the weird, puckered scar all along the top of his back. She hadn’t noticed it earlier, but now she couldn’t help but wonder where he’d gotten it and what it was from.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t going to find out tonight. He clearly wasn’t having the same insomnia problem. After all, she’d made him rock her world three—no, four—different times before she’d let him fall asleep. The guy had to be exhausted. But she didn’t want to wake him with her restlessness, so carefully, she eased out from under him, snagged his shirt from the floor, then tugged the door closed behind her as she buttoned the garment and moved into the living room.
A light snow was falling outside, catching in the lights off the balcony of her room and the ones that overlooked the slopes. Her fingers hesitated over a button on the shirt as his words echoed in her head—words from last night.
“Come with me, Gracie. I want to hear you let go.”
For a moment, her heart rate ticked up, then she frowned and pushed the stupid worry aside. She’d obviously made that up in her head, afraid she’d given herself away in the middle of one of her sex-crazed moments. But she knew she hadn’t. She was sure of it. For all Brian knew, she was Samara, winged fruit of the stupid maple tree.
Holly was the one who’d convinced Grace to use a fake name, and though Grace still wasn’t sure about that decision, her friend had been right that Vail would be a great place to get away and regroup. Grace felt better than she had in days. Slowly, her gaze slid to her guitar in the corner of the room.
As she stared at the instrument, notes came out of nowhere, pinged around in her head, and seemed to mesh together as if being written in air. Lyrics she’d been struggling with for days. Entire lines that had been hidden to her only hours ago. Excitement bursting inside her, she glanced quickly around, spotted her notebook, and grabbed it before she lost the thread.
Humming the bars in her head first, she softly strummed them on her guitar so she wouldn’t wake Brian, then furiously scribbled in her notebook. She wrote fast, afraid the notes would disappear into the ether. She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but before she knew it, she was staring down at two complete songs—the last two in her contract she’d been struggling with—chicken scratched in her blue-checked notebook like they’d been there the entire time.
Awe slithered through her. Holly had been right again. A little hot sex had done wonders for Grace’s creativity.
And the songs weren’t just there. They were good. Really good. Probably the best music she’d written in…forever. Far better than what she’d written before.
She glanced toward the closed bedroom door, wanting, needing to tell Brian what she’d just done, but he was still sound asleep, his soft snoring echoing through the door. Biting her lip, she thought of him naked in her room, thought about going in there and thanking him properly for his help. But then she remembered the way he’d collapsed against her after their last bought of adventurous sex, and she knew she couldn’t wake him. He wouldn’t understand her enthusiasm and probably wouldn’t care. And common sense also screamed she couldn’t share what she’d done when he thought she wrote back-cover copy for romance novels
Lordy. She blew the hair out of her eyes. That lie had been a bright idea, hadn’t it? Her gaze shot back to the music. But she couldn’t contain her excitement either. She had to tell someone. And the only other person she wanted to share the news with was an hour ahead of her, and that meant—she glanced toward the clock on the wall—it was still only 5:00 a.m. in Nashville.
She bit her lip, debated. Finally decided, screw it. Five a.m. was close enough to morning.
She reached for her cell, dialed, and chewed on her thumbnail while she waited. Two rings passed before a groggy voice said, “Do you know what fucking time it is?”
“I know. Sorry.” Giddiness caused Grace’s voice to rise. “I couldn’t help myself. I did it!”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Holly grumbled.
“I finished it.” Grace moved to the window and looked out at the falling snow. “Holly, it all just came to me. Both songs. And they’re good. No, not just good, they’re amazing. I have that feeling. You know, the one that tells you this is it? Oh my God. I’ve never written anything so awesome before.”
Holly was silent on the other end of the line. Then said, “Really? Play me a few bars.”
Grace started to hum the first few lines of the second song, then changed her mind. “No, I still need to flesh a few things out, and I don’t want you to hear anything until they’re totally polished. But trust me…this is it. You were right! I still can’t believe how right you were. I’ll never question you again.”
Holly chuckled. “Does this mean you dragged McDreamy back to your room?”
Not just dragged. Ravished. Several times.
Warmth curled all through Grace’s body. “Possibly.”
“Is he still there?”
“Yeah, he’s asleep.”
“What does he do?”
“Um, he’s a professional skier. Totally not my type.”
Holly hesitated. “Are you going to see him again?”
Was she? A wicked flare burned in the center of Grace’s belly. She wanted to. She really liked Brian—more than she’d expected. And it wasn’t just about sex—though that had been the best she’d had in…well, forever. No, what intrigued her most was that there was something dark and mysterious about him, something she sensed he kept closed off from most people, something she had the strangest sense she was breaking through. And the thought of uncovering that made every cell in her body tremble with exhilaration.
But…he didn’t even know her real name. She’d lied to him, and when he found out everything she’d told him was false, he might not be as crazy for her as he’d been last night.
“I don’t know,” she said, the thought of not seeing him again more depressing than she’d expected. “I doubt it. He lives here. I live in Nashville. Plus, this was just a one-night thing.”
Holly was quiet for several moments, then said, “Probably smart. As you said, the last thing you need is a man.”
True, but…if she were going to fall for a man, Grace had a feeling Brian was the kind of guy that could make her tumble head over heels.
“What are you going to do today?” Holly asked.
Grace glanced toward the bedroom again. What she wanted to do was go in there and wake Brian up with her mouth. “I…don’t know.”
“Wow, you do have it bad.” Holly sighed. “You know what? You need to get away from the guy before you do something stupid. Fuck him again if you want, just to get it out of your system, but don’t forget what’s important. You don’t need some guy grabbing on to your coattails when you’re about to hit it big.”
There was that not so subtle thing again.
“I don’t know,” Grace mumbled. “Maybe I’ll just spend the day skiing.”
‘There you go,” Holly said. “Send McDreamy packing, then go and have fun.”
Grace looked back at the bedroom door. Holly was right. She didn’t need a guy confusing her priorities, but for reasons she didn’t want to examine too closely just yet, she wasn’t ready to let this one go.
Her stomach tossed, and perspirati
on dotted her forehead. She said good-bye to Holly and stared at the bedroom door. She was only going to be here another night or two now that she’d written her songs. And she really didn’t want to spend them alone. If Brian was up for it, she wanted to spend them with him.
She gnawed on her lip again. If, that was, he didn’t hate her after she told him the truth.
* * *
The scent of fresh-brewed coffee with a hint of something sweet roused Brian from a deep sleep. Blinking several times, he stretched his arms over his head, then rolled to his back on the soft, pillow-top mattress.
“You sleep like the dead,” a sweet, sexy voice said to his left. “Did anyone ever tell you that?”
Brian glanced toward the dark-haired vixen sitting cross-legged on the covers next to him, a mug of steaming coffee cradled in her hands and a wicked-hot smile curling her sensual lips. Morning light cascaded over her in bands of gold and white, making her look almost angelic, contrasting with the naughty things she’d done to him last night. His blood warmed at just the sight of her in his shirt again, his body coming instantly awake and alert with the memory of what she felt like beneath him, above him, bent over in front of him.
He sucked in a deep breath, planted his feet on the mattress, and scooted back in the pillows, careful to drag the sheet with him so she couldn’t see what she was doing to his body. Guilt slithered in. A guilt that told him he never should have stayed last night, shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much, definitely shouldn’t be here right now. “A few people have mentioned it.”
“Lucky girls.” She handed him the steamy mug.
“Not girls,” he said, taking a deep sip. Man, that tasted good. Almost as good as her. “Army buddies.”
“You were in the military?”
He nodded and took another sip, hoping the caffeine would wake up his brain so he’d stop thinking with his dick. “Delta Force. Seven years.”
“Wow.” She rested her elbow on her folded knee and perched her cute little chin on her hand. “Is that how you got that scar on your back?”