Grace (The Family Simon 5)

Matt followed Grace past the large house, and up a side entrance that led to a loft apartment over the four car garage. She flipped the switch and adjusted the lighting so that it was muted, barely making a dent in the dark shadows that inhabited the place.

Walking across the large open space, she leaned her hip against the shiny granite island, her chest still heaving, her lips still moist, as she gazed across the room at him. She was nervous—he saw that.

The air was thick and he was hot as hell. Matt reached for the lights. He turned the dimmer until the shadows disappeared.

“What are you…”

He smiled wickedly and her words dried up as he strode across the room until he was standing so close to Grace, her subtle scent washed over him.

“I want to see you.” Matt’s nostrils flared and he was already hard when he reached for her and slowly turned her around. He inched closer, sweeping long strands of hair from the back of her neck, and blowing hot air over the exposed skin. She shivered and he grinned wickedly, nuzzling her. “I want to see all of you.”

She braced herself against the granite but that wouldn’t do. Matt pulled her up a bit, smiling when her arms fell to her sides, and he tugged on the zipper that ran the length of her back. Slowy he pulled it down, eyes on the soft, creamy skin.

With another tug he had the dress around her hips and then one more pull had it falling around her ankles.

“Guess pink is my new favorite color,” he murmured appreciatively. He couldn’t resist and grabbed her ass—most of which was not covered by her silky underwear—and he pulled her back against his erection.

“Nice” he murmured. Her butt fit against him perfectly.

His hands slowly made their way up her body, fingers trailing here, massaging there, until he cupped her breasts. Still wrapped in that little bit of pink, he slipped his forefinger inside each of them and traced her pebbled nipples.

“You like that?”

A moan was the answer to his question, and he smiled wickedly, dropping his mouth to the back of her neck. He nipped her there, and undid her bra, turning her around so that she faced him and he could put his mouth on her breasts. His tongue. His teeth.

He tortured her for several long moments, loving how she gyrated against him and when he made his way back up to her mouth, she kissed him back, with an open, hot mouth that made him ache to have her. Matt slid his mouth along

Grace’s jaw and pulled back a bit so that he could see her.

Her breasts were perfect. Ab-so-fucking-lute-ly perfect. Not much more than a handful and topped off with dusky pink nipples that made his mouth water. Her stomach was softly rounded, the way a woman’s should be, and with a wicked grin he slipped his hand inside those damn, sexy pink panties.

“You’re so wet,” he growled against her neck. He slipped a finger inside. “Wet and tight.”

“Matt,” she breathed. She bucked her hips and grabbed his shoulders. “I want more. I want you inside me.”

That had to have been the hottest thing he’d ever heard. Matt kissed her once more and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. Once he had the condom free, he undid his zipper and slipped it over his straining cock.

She yelped when he scooped her into his arms, but went totally quiet when he strode to the sofa and bent her over the edge.

“Watch,” he said roughly, eyes on their reflection in the window.

Matt didn’t wait, he sank into Grace, and moaned, pressing one hand into the small of her back to hold her steady, while he reached around and found her clitoris with his other.

Their eyes met in the window and Matt thought that, hands down, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. With all that hair, those big amazing eyes, and her mouth open and moaning as he thrust into her—he knew it would be a vision he’d use in the dead of night when he was alone and horny as hell.

“This is not gonna be long,” he whispered hoarsely, smiling when she clenched around him. He played her, loving the slick feel of her. “Let me know when you’re close.”

“I’m almost…” But she couldn’t finish her sentence. Her mouth parted, that delicious tongue of hers sweeping across her lips, and as she gripped him tighter and tighter, he knew that they were both nearly there.

Their bodies strained together and Matt didn’t take his eyes from her as he came. She looked right back at him. So sweet. So earnest. So not up for a one-night-stand.

Regret washed over him as he rested against her and tried to get his breathing back to normal. He was weak. He should have walked away.

Carefully he pulled out and reached for his jeans. He tugged them on and grabbed his T-shirt off the floor before taking a few steps away from her. He checked his phone—pretended to scroll through a few emails—and then shoved the device into his pocket.

He glanced around the loft, noting a few paintings that had to be Shane Gallagher originals, soft overstuffed furniture that was more thrift store than boutique, and a single vase of red tulips in kitchen.

“What are you…are you going?”