Grinch (Cerberus MC)

Grace smiles at me, and I refuse to focus on the tightness in her jaw. I can’t back down, and it doesn’t seem like she’s going to either.

I keep my eyes on her shoulders as we walk down the hall and into the living room. Watching the way her hips sway in those heels, knowing there is a vibrating plug in her ass, may be the death of me.

As expected, Ugly is waiting in the middle of the room, a bright knowing smile on his face as he watches Grace walk toward him. He crooks his arm for her when she approaches, and she doesn’t waste a second, linking her arm through his.

“You look a little out of sorts, sweet Grace,” Ugly whispers in her ear.

I clench my fists, a reminder that I can’t punch him in the face because this is what she wants.

I know what the man sees. Her face is flushed from the orgasm she just had, and the plug lodged inside of her is keeping that feeling alive. It thrilled me until she walked out here and shared part of that with him.

I let them inch further ahead, allowing more distance between us as we leave the clubhouse, but I regret doing that when she leans in close to him, whispering something in his ear I can’t hear.

I know she’s telling him about the plug. I know it’s the first time anything specific about tonight has been shared, and it makes me want to rip him away from her and tell him to kick bricks. But I can’t.

Ugly helps her into the back of the SUV, grinning like a maniac when she whispers at the press of the plug when she settles in.

“Gonna be a long ride,” he says before closing her door.

The man makes eye contact with me as he adjusts the front of his slacks, and all I can do is grind my teeth and climb inside.

I can’t keep my eyes off of her in the rearview mirror as I pull out of the parking lot. Within ten minutes of the drive, the scent of her arousal permeates the air around us, and I’m no better at keeping my cock under control than Ugly is.

I may be in pain by the time the sun rises tomorrow, but at least it means I can start healing from the damage she’s caused for so many years.

Chapter 32

Grace

“Is the spa a front for the club?” I ask as we pull into the parking lot.

Trenton was right about the batteries not lasting the entire trip, and I’m both glad they died and a little disappointed.

“Everything is on the up and up,” Isaac assures me. “They just operate at different times.”

“So sexy, happy-ending massages during the day and wild kinky sex at night?”

I feel like I’m chattering too much, but my nerves are kicking up now that we’re here.

“Regular spa services. The two businesses are on the same property, but they don’t mix.”

There goes my request for a relaxing massage before we get started tonight.

I smile at Isaac when he opens my door and offers his hand.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he says, stepping into my side and dropping his palm to my back. The heat of it promises so many dirty things.

Trenton lags behind, and I make sure to roll my hips a little more when I walk, knowing his eyes are glued to them.

“You’re being naughty,” he whispers as he catches up.

I look up at him, trying to read his mood but come up empty. The man’s ability to mask what he’s feeling is amazing.

“I thought being naughty was the entire point.”

“It is,” he assures me as he steps forward to open the front door for me.

I walk through, grinning when Trenton steps in directly behind me, not letting Isaac resume his previous position at my side.

“Welcome,” a handsome man with dark hair and eyes says when we approach the front desk. “I’m Gus. What can I help you with this evening?”

Even the atmosphere in the front room is sexy—slow, thumping music playing through hidden speakers.

“We have a reservation for Trenton Cole.”

The smile on the guy’s face spreads wider. “It’s always a pleasure to serve our friends from New Mexico.”

Trenton grunts as he pulls out his wallet. I reach for my own ID, grateful my aunt was able to send some of my things. Tonight wouldn’t happen without the proof of identification because it’s required to enter the club.

“What color bands will you three be needing?”

“No bands,” Trenton snaps as I look over the color-coded poster on the wall.

“Your reservation isn’t for another fifteen minutes. You can wait here, but if you enter the club, you have to have a band. You won’t be able to get a drink from the bar either.”

The man’s smile never falters as he explains.