Just That Easy (11 page)

Teryn felt as if she were being stalked. Slowly,
methodically, mercilessly. He’d not said one word about her bolting out on him
this morning. He’d even shown up with a bottle of wine to have with dinner.

“Here. Give this a try.”

“I’m not much of a wine drinker.” Her nose crinkled at the
memory of all the past disasters of trying to like the stuff.

“You’ll like this. Try it.”

Taking a small sip, she was surprised how good it was. Wine
usually was too bitter for her taste, she’d tried everything from cheap to
expensive and ended up decided that Boone’s Farm often tasted better than crap
that cost ten times as much. Not this. This was delicious. She took another
long sip.

“That is just excellent.”

“Told you.”

You’ll learn to trust me one of these days.
She could
see it on his face but he didn’t say it. That was almost worse than having to
hear it and respond.

They made dinner together, falling into a relaxed, easy
rhythm. A comfortable back and forth that neither had to force. Exactly what
she’d been pretending were just the in betweens for the incredible sex they
were having. They cooked, laughing, talking, moving together in tandem as if
they already knew all the ins and outs of each other’s habits. He didn’t sit
back and leave her to do any of it by herself, he jumped right in. He had not
been lying. The man could cook, and well. They ate, cleaned up, laughed and
talked some more. About everything, bad habits, politics, weird stories from
their childhood, anything and everything.

But typically confrontational Grant didn’t say one word
about that elephant staring them down from right between their noses. And that
put her on edge. She was getting used to him blurting out things. Things designed
to push her, things designed to incite her, things designed to just flat out
make both of them hotter than an August Sunday. Not actually saying it…that was
new.

He poured her another glass of wine when they were finishing
putting the food away. Then he grabbed her, easily lifting her to his chest,
kissing her with the hunger she knew all too well. The hunger that she
understood. That feeling she got when he overpowered her like this, the
slippery jelly feel that shot into her legs, her entire core. As independent,
do it yourself, don’t need a man as she was, she was still shocked that she
loved him using his power over her like that, just as much as she reveled in
her power over him.

“Time for dessert.”

“We didn’t make dessert.”

“You know what I’m talking about. And you’re it.” He had her
jeans down her thighs before she could blink, nipping at her panties. Then they
were gone too. He lifted her and sat her on the table. Another table. A tremor
went through her thighs.

He moved in between those shivering thighs, spreading her
open to him as they both reached for his shirt at the same time. Just like
making dinner, not having to talk to know what came next, one move spurring on
another.

The feel of that soft-as-suede thick male skin sent another
shiver through her, she could never get enough of how it felt against her,
under her hands. Running her fingers over his chest, kneading the muscles
there, she barely had time to lean forward and lick one flat, dark nipple. He
didn’t give her a chance this time, instead he dropped down and his big
shoulders were hunkered down between her thighs and those deep blues were
burning at her under his thick black lashes.

“Take off your shirt.”

The buttons flew through her fingers, shirt tossed
who-knew-the-hell-where. The clasp of her bra was open before he could mouth
the words because she knew he would. Teasing, she held it there just a moment,
clutched to her chest before she slowly let it slide down over her hard
nipples.

“Tease. I can play that game too.” He dipped his head in low
and she felt his breath roll across the dampness between her legs. He gently
flicked his tongue over the outer edges of her, lightly, his breath cooling
every warm place it touched. Thigh muscles tightening, she felt her skin jump
with shivers. She gripped the edge of the table and he had barely touched her
yet. He licked the spot at the top of her thigh he’d stroked so softly the
night before and she felt a warm gush of wetness.

“That for me?” he whispered as his tongue dived into her,
lapping at her softly then driving in deep, swirling it inside until she
thought she was going to crack the edge of the table with her grip.

“Like that, baby?” His voice was muffled between her thighs
but husky, deep with arousal.

“Yes… God, Grant, you are driving me insane.”

“I haven’t even started yet. Better hang on.” His tongue
shot straight from the top to the very bottom of her entire pink wet slit. Her
ass barely connected with the table anymore, it was all she could do not to
strain hard into his soft lips, wanting to sit back and enjoy the pleasure, but
her body was doing a one-eighty and wanting to grind hard into his mouth. Now.

This was what she understood about Grant and herself. This
raw impulse, the deep sexual connection they effortlessly shared. The sweetness
of the night before had been deep, deeper than this sheer, powerful lust, and
much, much more terrifying. Tonight they were back in territory she could
maneuver. That had clearly been his plan all along, calm her nerves with what
he knew neither of them shied away from, and she’d been led here by the master.
She didn’t care, she needed to feel more of that tongue.

Not that Grant wasn’t intent on giving her a lot more of it.
He moved slowly back up, licking and sucking her pink flesh into his mouth the
entire way. She anticipated that he would reach her clit soon and her whole
body tensed, ready for the shock of that liquid hot tongue and when it came.
When it did, she rocketed forward off the table, launching herself into his
mouth.

As always, he had anticipated her reaction and his big hands
caught her easily, squeezing her ass hard, holding her back down and continuing
his offensive. He pulled his tongue back and sucked gently on her, pulling her
between his lips, then flicking the tip of his tongue over that throbbing knot.

“I can’t take it, Grant!”

“Yes you can, baby,” he murmured into her pussy, but he let
up on the tongue thrashing he’d been giving her clit and moved lower, sucking
and lapping at the now-constant flow of cream flooding from her. “You taste so
damn good. I’m so fucking hard just from licking you.”

The image of his thick cock pushing those jeans to the
extreme-fatigue test sent a fresh set of chills through her. “I want you in
me…”

“Uh-uh…not yet. I could do this all night, baby. I ever tell
you that you taste like an Almond Joy?” She felt a thick finger slide inside
her and she fell back into the haze. He pulled it back, sliding her own wetness
down over her and put his tongue back to work, but softer this time, light
circles moving slowly around the outer edges of her clit, enough to make her
moan and bite her lip, not enough to let her slide over the edge and come into
his waiting mouth.

Then she felt the pressure of his fingers again, sliding
deep into her. The next sensation sent her straight up and off the table once
again, the utter corrupt bliss of his wet finger sliding easily into her tight
ass.

No word to even match the sensation of both of his fingers
working her in tandem with his tongue licking those light circles on her clit,
she could only moan, rock her hips into his face and nearly black out with the
force of the blinding orgasm that he brought down on her.

Still swirling in darkness, she wondered if she’d screamed
his name in her head or in his ears as she tasted the tangy wetness of his
lips, of her, on her mouth. His breathing came heavy and labored as he kissed
her, strong hands still gripping her hips. Through the fog of her receding
orgasm she started working on the buttons of his Levi’s. The image of that thick,
velvet cock in her hand and hearing him groan in pleasure filled her head.

Wrapping one hand around his neck, she pulled him closer,
biting at the skin of his shoulder as she used her other hand to finish yanking
open the buttons of his jeans. “What do you want, Grant, tell me.”

“Just you, Teryn. Always you,” he ground out, arching his
hips into her hand.

His jeans fell to his ankles and she slid her hand down over
him. She felt the satisfying catch in his breath as he lurched slightly
backward with her touch.

“Yes, baby, yes, touch me. Fucking stroke me.”

His ragged desire filled her, pulsed through her like the
red-hot blood pulsing through the vein of his throbbing cock, the one that was
near to exploding for her. All for her. She did exactly what he asked, what he
wanted, aching with the desire to push him to the same heights he so easily
brought her to. She stroked him firmly, coating her palm with the wetness of
the pre-cum leaking from the tip of his rigid cock. Her mouth clamped firmly
over the tiny, pebbled nipple and she sucked hard, her tongue flicking over it
as he pumped his hips into her hand.

His voice erupted in her ear like a small roar. She felt
herself being lifted off the table, moving backward so quickly she thought they
were falling until the wall connected hard with her back. The force of it
slammed into her and his body crushing her from the other side sent her breath
from her lungs. It was nowhere near enough to slow the need to feel him.

On instinct she swung her legs up high over his hips to
spread herself open to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and laced her
fingers, locking them together. She felt his knees bend, and as he dipped down
a little she braced for the coming feel of his cock slamming into her. When it
did, the force of him filling her pushed her up off his hips, countered by his
strong arms forcing her right back down, digging deep. She nearly screamed with
the feel of him filling her, his thick, hard cock sending a shockwave through
her entire body.

As he mounted her hard, fast and in purely lust-driven
delirium, she felt herself moving toward another peak. When it came this one
was long, deep, and didn’t let go of her. More of those indulgent little
screams rolled from her lips and he groaned in response to each one. She felt
the walls of her pussy tremor with the intensity of it, felt it pull against
his thick flesh as he continued to drive into her, heard his gasping breaths,
his guttural moans against her neck as her body clutched at him and didn’t
stop. She loved hearing him like that, whispering barely coherent words,
everything stripped away to just the man lost in her body, marking her, filling
her. She shuddered again as the thought overtook her, pounding into her with
the same heavy impact as his body.

Just as the waves of her own climax faded, she felt his
explode, literally, the force of him coming into her so hot and deep she swore
she could taste him.

If you could collapse still standing, that’s exactly what he
did. His chest heaved against hers. Stroking his back, she felt the trickle of
sweat running down his spine, the heated flush still rolling over him. Glad the
weight of him had her pinned to the wall so they didn’t end up in a heap on the
floor, she felt a sudden urge to give him something more.

It rose up in her, gripped her hard, a desire to give him a
sweet little gift of herself like he always gave her. She recognized it was
more than just the remnants of adrenaline, and the fear of giving that piece of
herself, what that would mean, rose up just as strong to fight the impulse. She
let the fear overrule and pushed her desire down, regret on her tongue. Instead
of words of tenderness, she kissed him, softly.

Sliding his hands up over her hips, he hugged her close,
returning her kiss before nuzzling his face in her neck. “Did I hurt you? Seem
to be asking you that a lot lately.”

She shook her head softly and closed her eyes. “You can’t
hurt me when we’re like this, Grant, ever.”

But you can hurt me if it’s not just sex.

The silence hung between them for a moment. Then he gently
lowered her legs, holding her steady against him, breathing against her, his
lips just resting on her shoulder, not moving, not doing anything but being
there with her.

An hour later, they were sitting on her couch, watching an
incredible sunset out the picture window. He still hadn’t said a word about
this morning, instead wiping away the distance between them with the heavy mist
of their sex, which still clouded her brain even now. Hoping he didn’t raise
the subject, she had no plans to discuss it.

His chest tightened beneath her cheek and she popped her
head up to look at him.
Oh here we go
, was her first thought.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Would you say you’re at least
averagely intelligent?”

Not the opening she expected. “Yes.”

“Aware of what you like, don’t like?”

“Yes.”

“Pretty clear on your values, like what you feel about
honesty, politics, family, that kind of thing?”

“Yes.” She nodded, holding his stare, cocking an eyebrow.
She had knowingly let him lead her and was going to be caught up in her own
words somehow.

“Have we talked about any of those things?” A slight grin
curled his mouth.

“Most.”

“Do we seem to follow the same philosophical path?”

“Yes.”

“Are you attracted to me?”

She lifted her shoulders away from him, pushing away with
her hand on his belly. “Really? That’s your question?”

“Just say it,” he chuckled.

“Yes. Very.” She sighed, giving in. He had hedged around,
pushing her into admitting any feelings and flanked her.

He smiled a satisfied little smirk, and wrapped his arms
around her shoulders, pulling her back down against him. The move said he’d won
this round already, and she knew he had.